"Hey, hey," You said, brushing his hair back. "You're alright. I got you." You continued, calming him down. Bucky looked down at his state, being bloodied and bruised–trembling in fear as he sat on the floor. Before he could reply to you, he heard the doors being unlocked. They were going to take you away from him. "No! No! Don't go!" Bucky yelled, trying to reach you.

The sound of his phone going off woke him up from the nightmare. It took him a minute to realize that he was dreaming about you. Again. Bucky didn't know who you were, but you had been popping up in his dreams ever since he was young. It felt like he knew you.

Bucky sighed, getting up to get ready for his work. He brushed off the thought as he continued with his day. It wasn't uncommon for him to dream about you. Truth be told, you brought comfort to him–even if you were just a figment in his imagination, perhaps.

Desperate for answers, Bucky consulted to psychics and read books about dreams (he was that desperate to know the truth, of course), he later found out that you were a part of his past life. Someone so dear to him, destined to meet in every life.

It meant that you were also in his life now, which was wrong. He had no one that looked like you. No one that cared like you did in his dreams. It was so strange to yearn for a person that he didn't even know.

The day went well for him. Serving customers and seeing their smiles after they took a bite of his pastries brought a sense of serenity to him. Bucky loved his work, he loved making people happy. Even if those dreams were real and he was just a machine, he was glad that this was his life now. The man couldn't help but to chuckle about the thought of him hurting people.

Bucky Barnes didn't believe in reincarnation. At least before he spotted you entering his bakery.