Bucky’s mind is always the same.

Dark. Cold. Endless.

Chains echo somewhere in the distance, a sound etched into Bucky’s bones. He braces for the weight of them, the bite of metal against skin.

But they aren’t on him.

Footsteps cut through the silence. A figure steps forward from the shadows, familiar in the worst way. His face. His body.

The eyes are wrong.

Empty. Frozen.

The Winter Soldier tilts his head, voice smooth, poisonous. “Let me out, James.”

Bucky’s jaw tightens. “No. Not ever.”

A quiet laugh slips from the Soldier’s mouth “Why?”

“Because you’re dangerous.”

The Soldier moves closer, boots soundless against the floor. “I’m not dangerous,” he says softly. “I’m you.”

Bucky backs away, shaking his head. “You’re not me.”

The smile that spreads across the Soldier’s face is sharp and knowing. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Then he’s moving, too fast.

Bucky barely dodges the first strike before another hits, driving the air from his lungs. Pain explodes through his ribs as he stumbles. The Soldier is on him instantly, metal fingers closing around his throat.

“You’re weak.”

Bucky strains against the grip, vision blurring. “I’m stronger than you.”

The Soldier laughs and slams him down. The metal arm pins his chest, crushing, dragging him under. The darkness presses in, swallowing him whole—

“Bucky! Wake up!”

The world snaps back into place.

You’re there, hands firm on his shoulders, eyes wide with worry. He jolts awake, gasping, lungs burning, heart racing out of control. His body shakes, adrenaline still roaring through him.

You cup his face, steady, real.

“Hey,” you whisper. “You’re safe.”

His voice is rough. “He’s still there.”