I don't think you guys get it, I adore Sam and Sev like they're real.

THE ROOM WAS DARK AND STILL, the only
light coming from the sliver of moonlight that slipped through the curtains. Sev, now fifteen, lay tangled in her sheets, her brow furrowed and her breath coming in short, panicked bursts. She was caught in the throes of a nightmare, memories of HYDRA and their cold, unfeeling faces swirling in her mind.

In her dream, she was back in that sterile, terrifying facility. The sounds of clanking metal and distant screams echoed around her. The faceless scientists loomed over her, their voices a cold monotone as they conducted their cruel experiments. She tried to run, but her legs felt like lead. Panic surged through her as she searched for her papa, but he was nowhere to be found.

"Papa!" She shouted. "Papa! I need you!"

The fear was suffocating.

"Sev!" she heard a voice call, distant and echoing. "Sev, wake up!"

Suddenly, she was jolted awake, her eyes snapping open. She found herself in her hotel rolm, the comforting surroundings a stark contrast to the nightmare. She was trembling, her breath coming in gasps. Steve was by her side, his expression filled with concern.

"Sev, it's okay. You're safe," he said gently, sitting on the edge of her bed. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, his touch grounding her in the present.

"Steve," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I... I was back there. In HYDRA. It felt so real."

Steve nodded, his heart aching for her. He knew how hard it was to shake off those nightmares, the echoes of a past filled with pain and fear. "I know, Sev. But you're here now, with me. You're safe."

She took a few deep breaths, trying to steady herself. "I hate those dreams. They always come back."

Steve pulled her into a comforting embrace, his arms strong and reassuring. "I know they do. But you're stronger than they are. You've come so far."

Sev rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. It was a comforting rhythm, a reminder that she wasn't alone. "I miss Papa," she admitted, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I was looking for him in my nightmare."

"I know you do," Steve said softly, rubbing her back soothingly. "And he misses you too. But he's doing this so that one day you can be together again, without any shadows hanging over you."

Sev nodded, her tears soaking into Steve's shirt. She knew that Bucky's decision to go back under was for the best, but it didn't make the separation any easier. "What was your nightmare about this time?"

Steve pulled back slightly, looking into her eyes. "I was back at HYDRA. I was looking for my papa because I was scared but I couldn't find him."

Steve brushed a piece of hair from her face to behind her ear. "That sounds scary, Sev."

"I just don't want to be scared." She told him. "I don't want to feel alone."

"You don't have to worry about that," Steve replied with a reassuring smile. "Now, how about we get you back to sleep? I can stay with you if you want."

Sev nodded, feeling a sense of comfort knowing that Steve was there. "I'd like that."

Steve helped her settle back into bed, pulling the blankets up around her. He sat on the edge of the bed, his presence a calming force. "Close your eyes, Sev. I'm right here."

She closed her eyes, the remnants of the nightmare slowly fading away. Steve began to hum softly, a soothing melody that eased her racing heart. He gently stroked her hair, his touch light and comforting.

As she drifted back to sleep, the fear and panic melted away, replaced by the warmth of Steve's presence. He watched over her, his heart filled with a deep sense of responsibility and love. He would do whatever it took to keep her safe, to help her heal from the scars of her past.

The room was quiet again, the only sound the soft, steady breaths of Sev as she slept. Steve stayed by her side, his thoughts drifting to Bucky. He hoped that Bucky knew that Sev was being cared for and loved.

SEV WENT WITH STEVE EVERYWHERE. Steve insisted on it. They had been on the run for two years now, hopping between scattered hotels across the country. It wasn't the life she would have chosen, but it had become her reality. Despite the chaos, Steve and Sam made sure she was taken care of, always looking out for her.

Though she was never meant to fight, Natasha had given her one of her old suits, turning her into a full-fledged vigilante. Natasha trained her diligently, far less harshly than HYDRA had, but still with a rigorous intensity that sharpened Sev's skills. Steve allowed her to join missions when he deemed it safe enough, ensuring the danger was manageable.

Sam, equally protective, treated Sev like family. He and Steve formed a united front, both in their missions and in their care for Sev. She found comfort in their presence, knowing she was in good hands despite the perilous life they led.

Bucky wrote to Sev often, his letters a lifeline connecting her to him. He would detail his daily life, express how much he missed her, and ask about her well-being. Sometimes she wrote back, but more often, she didn't. Regardless, she kept every letter, treasuring them as reminders of their bond.

One afternoon, as Sev sat in her small, dimly lit hotel room, Natasha entered. Without a word, she tossed an envelope into Sev's lap. "It's from your father," she said with a quick smile before leaving as swiftly as she had come.

Sev halfway smiled back, but the letters always left her feeling a mix of emotions. She glanced down at the envelope and sighed, opening it with careful fingers.

Dear Sev,

How have you been? I hope good, because it's been a while since you've written me back. I try to think it's because you have nothing to talk about, so I'm going to write a few questions that I hope you'll answer in a letter back.

How is everything? Are you okay? Steve said you've been having nightmares, which sucks, because me too. How are you dealing with those? I'm sorry I'm not there to hold you through them and soothe you back to sleep like I used to. I really miss that. Holding you, hearing the sound of your voice, feeling your hugs, seeing your smile at the little things. I really just miss you, all of you.

Anyway, I hope Steve has been good to you, which I know he is. But if you get the chance, write me back. I really love you, Sev. More than anything in this life, it's weird, but I do. When you stared up at me all those years ago, that little blue-eyed baby girl, you were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. And even though I can't see you, I know you still are.

I love you so much,
Papa

P.S. Steve told me to tell you to stop giving him attitude! He says you're just like me, but worse. Be nice to him; he's doing his best. :)

Sev felt tears prick her eyes, which she quickly wiped away. She didn't want to cry—she always ended up crying. Crybaby Sev, that's what Nat had started to call her. Crybaby Sev, crybaby Sev.

"I'm not a crybaby," she muttered to herself, fighting back the tears. She felt like she was losing her mind, but she knew she needed to write back this time. She had ignored his last three letters, and it was time to break that cycle.

She picked up a pen and a piece of paper that Steve had made her do homework on. The paper was mostly blank, save for a math equation scribbled in the corner. Steve had taken to homeschooling her when he had the time, he said it would be beneficial.

Dear Papa,

Sorry for not writing sooner, I've been busy. Steve has started schooling me, makes me do all sorts of wonky math and stuff, then gets aggravated 'cause he's no good at it either. It's honestly funny, to say the least.

To answer your questions, I'm okay. Well, I think. There's a lot happening in my head, and I don't know how to react to it. It's like I don't know emotions yet, and it makes me so mad. All I know is to cry, and it sucks! I hate crying, but I do it so freakin' much that I don't even know how I have any more tears to cry.

The nightmares are getting worse and worse. It's like I see their faces. The old man is a big one. He tries to hurt you and sometimes me. Steve always wakes me up and hugs me. I like his hugs, but I miss yours a lot. I don't like sleeping in my own bed either; it makes me hurt, not physically, just my heart. Remember when we always slept huddled up together in that one cot? I miss that. I'm much too big to do it now.

I've stopped eating. Not because I want to change the way I look, but because I feel empty either way. I hate it. I hate this. I miss you. Please, Papa, come see me, hug me, tell me everything's gonna be okay. I can't. I can't. I can't.

From, 
Sev

P.S. Steve doesn't know what he's talking about.

Her letter ended up longer than Bucky's. She started ranting towards the end, pouring out her frustrations and longing. She wanted to cry, missing him so intensely that it made her stomach hurt.

Her stomach hurt right now. In fact it burned. Maybe it was just hunger, or maybe it was because she felt like she was being stabbed by being away from him for so freaking long.

"Sev," a familiar voice called, pulling her out of her thoughts. She looked up to see Steve standing in the doorway. He really needed to shave his beard, she thought absently. "You wrote your dad back?"

"Yeah," she said, handing him the letter. He looked at it briefly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"On your schoolwork?" he asked, amused.

"Yeah..."

He chuckled. "Okay, Sev."

SEV USED BUCKY'S RED HENLEY SHIRT
to sleep. Despite Nat's insistence that she wash it several times, it still smelled faintly like him. She wondered if she was just imagining the scent because she missed him so much. Clutching the shirt to her chest, she breathed in deeply, tears soaking into the fabric.

Crybaby Sev.

"I'm not a crybaby." She muttered.

Stop crying, Sev, you're not a baby.

She cried harder, her sobs echoing in the small, dimly lit room.

Sev, shut the fuck up.

Her cries intensified, the emotional floodgate fully open.

SEV, SHUT UP—

"Lucky." She turned, startled, to see Sam standing in the doorway. He gave her a soft, concerned look before walking over and sitting at the foot of her bed.

"Hey," he said gently, his voice breaking through the storm of her emotions. "What's going on?"

Sev wiped her eyes, trying to steady her breath. "I... I hate him for leaving me, Sammy," she choked out, her voice trembling. "I hate him so much."

"You don't hate him." Sam's expression softened with understanding. "You miss him, don't you?"

She nodded, clutching the shirt tighter. "I miss him more than anything. But it's like... it's like I don't know how to feel anything except by crying my eyes out. I don't know how to handle all these emotions, Sam. It's like I'm stuck in this loop of feeling angry and sad and empty all the time."

Sam moved closer, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's okay to cry, Lucky. It's okay to feel what you're feeling. Emotions are messy, especially when you're going through something as tough as this. You've been through so much."

"But it's all I do," Sev said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just cry and cry. I feel like I should be stronger, like I should be able to handle this better."

"Hey," Sam said, placing a hand on her cheek. "You are strong. You're one of the strongest people I know. Crying doesn't make you weak. It makes you human. It means you care, and that's nothing to be ashamed of."

Sev sniffled, trying to absorb his words. "I just... I wish he was here. I wish he never left."

"I know," Sam said, pulling her into a gentle hug. "It's okay to miss him and be angry at him at the same time. It's all part of this messy thing called love and loss."

Sev buried her face in Sam's shoulder, her tears soaking into his shirt now. "I don't know how to stop feeling this way."

"You don't have to stop," Sam said softly. "You just have to let yourself feel it, and eventually, it will get easier. I promise. And in the meantime, we're all here for you. Steve, Nat, me—we're all here to help you through this."

Sev nodded against his shoulder, taking a shaky breath. "Thanks, Sam."

"Anytime, Lucky. Anytime."