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[staringproblem]

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for @anothergo

[staringproblem]

[It's something they started to do a few months after her arrival, something Peggy told him that she used to share with Natasha, and Bucky knows they share one more friend that they lost. He's not exactly big on modern cinematography, but these movie nights are entertaining enough to keep his interest, especially when Peggy tells him that they made movies out of the Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit books. But tonight, they meet at her place, so it's ladies' choice.

Maybe if he hadn't been this exhausted, Bucky would have found the movie interesting, but an hour into that detention period with a bunch of kids, he's already nodding off. He's spent the better part of the last forty-eight chasing down leads regarding Sam's disappearance, and his lack of sleep is showing. He's completely out by the time the credit rolls, a rare sight to behold, even for the other Super Soldier.

The exhaustion triggers memories buried deep inside, the lingering thought of teenagers stuck in school bringing his mind back to a time when he used to prowl empty halls, except for the pitty patter of children walking to a military rhythm. Images of little girls learning ballet superimpose themselves to young women sparring with one another under the vigilant eyes of an older woman. His own hands twist a fragile arm around someone's back before he pushes the slim body of a petite blond into a brunette, the matriarch barking orders as he dodges the punches of an agile redhead.

The memory moves on to the same redhead training late into the night with him, drilling self-defence moves again and again, until her muscles can't move anymore and he watches with conflicted feelings as she collapses on the mat. She looks up at him with a small smile, and they are not in the training room, and the mats are not mats anymore and Bucky thinks he can remember the way she tasted, until the memories shift again to the matriarch pulling the redhead away from him, and his fist connects with some HYDRA guards, angry, hurt and desperate, and he hits another one and another one until something shocks him to his knees. Then there's only white, blinding pain and emptiness.

The last memory he sees of the pretty redhead is her face turning red, her hands trying to push away the metal hand around her neck, looking up at him hurt and desperate, her voice rasping out 'You could at least recognize me' even as his hand squeezes further.

Her words snap him out of the nightmare, and James sits up with a startled cry, drenched in sweat and breathing laboriously. He looks around, confused, not recognizing where he is at first. It's only then he realizes that his vibranium hand is clenching on something softer and warmer than a pillow, and blue eyes widen with horror when he sees that he's grabbed Peggy by the throat when he woke up from his nightmare. He drops his hand from her neck and instinctively retreats as far as he can from her on the couch.]

Fuck! Shit! Sorry! I...I didn't mean to...

Sorry...I'll go, [he says in a hoarse voice as he gets up from the couch, moving to grab his leather jacket on the coffee table, figuring Peggy might not want to be around him right now.]

[anothergo]

[Truth be told, sometimes she takes advantage of it being ladies choice to throw in a selection that would have a higher probability of Bucky 'accidentally' dozing off. Usually she aligns these particular movies when the bags under his eyes reach an alarming shade of insomnia. And when he does drift asleep, Peggy makes certain he stays that way, even if that means getting trapped under under the other super soldier as a partial or full pillow.

Tonight, her plan had gone off without a hitch. So much so that she managed to carefully extricate herself from the couch, turn off the movie, and tuck him in before padding off to try and catch a bit of sleep herself.

Her own sleep's light enough that when he starts moving around in his sleep, it jolts her awake as though it was a threat. Realizing it's Bucky having a nightmare doesn't slow down her movements any, and soon she's reaching down to give his shoulder a bit of a squeeze and shake, murmuring his name with increasing volumes.

That had been a rookie night terrors mistake. It takes a split second for his vibranium arm to find her throat, quick as a viper strike, and then she's struggling for air that's utterly inaccessible.

Dazed by the general surprise of the attack, Peggy doesn't fight back until he's already caught her in a vice grip. First, she goes for the hand choking her, but it's locked down tight. Immovable. Realizing his face is just enough out of reach that an assault there would prove ineffectual, her other hand searches for something hard or sharp. All she can find are pillows and the edge of the couch itself, neither of which were any help.

It's right as her vision starts to narrow that his hand loosens.

She gasps for air immediately, coughing and pushing him back off her just as fast as he sits up. Even as the room spins, her eyes remain wide and locked on him, the light from the streetlamps outside illuminating the horror knitted into his features.

At some point, she opens her mouth to try to speak, but the pain halts her, instilling more coughing and a deep wince. Still, she reaches out to grab his wrist when he tries to leave, keeping him there.

It wasn't his fault. It was a nightmare and she got too close when waking him. It could have just as easily been here, minus the vibranium arm.]

No. [She finally rumbles roughly, but firmly, before her voice softens. He's not going. They're going to work through this and make sure they're both okay before he leaves. If he leaves.] I know... You didn't. Stay.