Chair... metal chair...

Cold... cold against my boiling skin...

Screams... my throat burns...

Screams... my head... my head!

Arms... where's my arm? Where's my?!-...

Arms... other arms... strong arms... muscular arms... I'd recognize the feeling of those hands anywhere...

"Steve..."

"It's okay Buck, it's okay, you're alright, just breath okay?" His voice in the darkness...

"Y-you can't be here, they'll... they've got... I'm not... can't control... where?..." My voice seems to have only worked when I first said his name...

"It's okay, Bucky... You're safe, I'm safe, we're safe."

"How?-..." the memories... flooding back to me...
Every. Single. One.

Screams... for real.
Screams... outside of the trauma that haunts my dreams...
Screams... from me.

Darkness... but I don't need the light to know my face is pressing into the bold, bare chest of my best friend...
I don't need the light to know how his brows are narrowing with concern, how his eyes are soft with care, how his body is positioned in a way that will protect me most...

Heartbeat...
His heartbeat...

My eyes are closed... I don't need the light to see him...

I don't need the light... when I have Steve.
Because Steve is...
My Light.