The Winter Soldier bursts from his handlers and starts sprinting through the facility. He'd heard screaming, and it sent shivers down his spine.

He skids around the corner, never breaking speed. He could hear boots clanking after him. He goes faster.

He darts up a flight of stairs, through a hall, and slides around another corner into a small room on the third floor. It was dark, and the men chasing him thunder by without pausing to check in the room he ducked into.

This was where prisoners were held and tortured, and this one in particular looked to be in bad shape.

"Soldier?" The torturer stares at him, fear in his eyes. He composes himself, straightening up. "What are you doing here?"

He stands there wordlessly, his eyes trained on the POW, who lies motionless. The torturer gives a rueful smile. "Were you sent here to study my work?"

The Winter Soldier swallows and doesn't move, meeting his eyes. The torturer looks away quickly, back at what he's doing.

"You are welcome to watch. Do they tell you of my work?" He turns his back, studying his tools. The POW's head rolls to the side and his eyes open slightly. He looked dazed and hurt. "Dr. Hierman, that's who I am," the torturer says proudly, sending the Winter Soldier a brief smile.

He ignores Dr. Hierman, still staring at the prisoner, who was staring back, looking shocked. The Winter Soldier didn't like how he looked at him as if he'd known him before.

"Right," Dr. Hierman speaks, turning back around, ready to go.

The Winter Soldier watches silently, shifting anxiously where he stands. Dr. Hierman explains the process and the tools he's using, trying to educate him.

All the while, the POW was holding his tongue, trying to be as silent as possible. But he was shaking violently, and tears were running down his face. Blood ran in tiny streams to collect in a puddle on the table. The Winter Soldier didn't understand why it had changed from before, from screaming to silence.

Dr. Hierman finally leans back after long periods of endless torture. The POW wasn't moving, staring blankly upwards, tears still sliding down his cheeks, his chest heaving.

The Winter Soldier swallows.

"In a few moments, we will begin again. We give them time to rest," Dr. Hierman concludes, leaning back and wiping his brow. The Winter Soldier shakes his head slowly, surprising himself.

"No. Leave him," he says quietly, his voice sounding rough from disuse. Hierman cocks his head at him. "Leave him."

"You don't command anyone. You understand, Soldier? You forget your place."

The Winter Soldier straightens up, narrows his eyes. Dr. Hierman does the same, standing to face him.

"Leave him," the Winter Soldier hisses. Hierman scoffs, reaches over to the wall and presses a small red button.

Men are quick to file in, weapons drawn and ready. The Winter Soldier is grabbed and, fighting them off, he's dragged out the door, kicking and yelling.

"Don't kill him!" he yells hoarsely. He didn't understand the drive to make sure this POW was safe, but it was strong, and he needed to protect him.

Hierman glares after him as one of the men jabs him in the neck with a needle.

////

Bucky jolts awake in a cold sweat. He remembered that night. It had been years ago, but it had happened, briefly, for about a year or two when Steve had been captured. He had escaped, of course, but only with Sam and Natasha's help. They were the only others who knew - Steve never talked about it. They had also never mentioned it to Bucky.

Bucky staggers out of bed and down the hall to Steve's room, knocking on his door. After a second or two, he hears a tired, "Come in," and steps through.

"I'm sorry to wake you," he breathes as he shuffles over. Steve sits up, rubbing his eyes.

"It's fine. Did anything happen?"

Bucky twists his fingers anxiously. "Um... I remembered something." Steve looks at him expectantly. "You were captured, and - and I was there," he says quietly and Steve says nothing. "I heard you screaming... It was Dr. Hierman who did it," he mumbles, quickly realising that Steve in no way would want to be reminded of this.

"You stopped when I came in, and you were crying," Bucky adds in a quiet voice when Steve stays silent.

Steve rubs his hands over his face, taking a breath. "I was afraid and I didn't want -- " He purses his lips. "I didn't know if it would worry you if you heard me." He hadn't wanted to scare Bucky.

"You knew it was me?"

Steve stares at him incredulously. "You're not easily forgotten, Buck. I knew it was you."

"So you thought it was me watching that?" Bucky looks uncomfortable with the thought, that he in his right mind would ever witness that willingly.

Steve doesn't answer. He had never given it too much thought; he tried not to. "I didn't think so. You weren't... yourself."

Bucky folds his arms around himself sub-consciously. "I had no idea. I was right there, I could've -- "

"You did," Steve says quietly. "Told the doctor to leave me alone."

"Did I?" Bucky seems confused, he hadn't remembered that that clearly.

Steve sighs and leans against his headrest. Bucky shuffles, deep in thought. "I'm sorry for not helping you, I'm sorry for reminding you what happened," he mutters.

"It's okay," Steve responds and Bucky stares at the floor. Steve stares at his hands, also thinking hard on what had happened. He hadn't forgotten anything.

He clears his throat and shifts a little. He couldn't go down that rabbit hole again. "You should probably try to get some sleep."

Bucky nods, hesitating. "Can I -- "

Steve nods back and Bucky gets into bed as well, settling in close. Steve stares at the wall opposite. He wasn't getting back to sleep now.

"Steve?" Bucky says uncertainly. "What do you remember of it?" He had forgotten his period at that specific location - couldn't even remember if it was in America or not - and felt a deep need to know.

Steve sighs, closing his eyes. "It was a small facility, eight floors high, they kept you on the bottom floor, tucked away. I stayed on the third floor." He tries not to think about it, he couldn't go back there. It had almost destroyed him, what happened - it made him question everything. His motives, his determination to fight, his standing with the Avengers, and there was a lot of humiliation at even being captured.

Plus the fact that he knew Bucky was there, Bucky was alive, Bucky wasn't himself. He had been inches away, staring at him, puzzled, trying to piece together why he recognised him.

Steve couldn't say anything. He didn't want to get him into trouble. So he forced himself to be quiet, even when the torture continued and he wanted to die. Besides, if Bucky had heard his voice clearly and remembered, he didn't want him remembering in that place. He didn't want him to see him suffer.

Bucky curls in a little closer and Steve looks over his shoulder. "You're shaking," Bucky says quietly and Steve purses his lips. "I'm sorry."

"Let's just get to sleep." Steve tucks in tighter and exhales, staring at a spot on the wall.

Bucky ends up with his forehead pressed against his back, and Steve doesn't move, so Bucky doesn't, either.

"I'm sorry."

Steve closes his eyes and exhales. "It's okay, Buck. We're okay."

////

Just an idea I had. *shrug*