Author's Note:

This is a collection of one-shots intended to bridge the four-ish year time gap between Flying High, Falling Hard and its sequel. As a forewarning, the second half of this collection will contain Bucky/Steve/OC. If Stucky (or polyamory) is not your cup of tea, never fear. The sequel will be back to Steve/Becca with only vague hints of Stucky as in the first fic.

The room was still dark when Becca woke up. She had a cramp in her leg, but moving would mean waking Steve. If only he wasn't such a light sleeper. Since he had just returned from a mission – which, in her opinion, meant he should be getting lots of shut eye – Becca shifted her leg as slowly as possible. She turned her head to glance at him.

But the other side of the mattress was empty.

Becca sat up. She would have gotten out of bed to stretch her leg properly, but she noticed that the mattress beneath her hands felt cool. Frowning, she slid her left hand farther over into the spot Steve had vacated. No warmth, but the mattress cover did feel slightly damp. Steve had been sweating. Either he was sick or he'd had a nightmare. Intent on finding out which was the case, Becca got up and left his bedroom.

Steve was sitting on the couch, reading a book. He had obviously heard her coming and put on a smile, but Becca could see the strain on his face. Nightmare then. She knew he had them because he'd told her once. However, he hadn't given her specifics or talked about them since. If he'd ever had a nightmare when they were spending a night together, she hadn't found out about it. Steve had opened up to her a little bit here and there, but Becca was fully conscious that there was a lot he didn't tell her. That was technically his call to make, but she had grown more and more concerned that the sheer amount he must be keeping bottled up wasn't good for him.

"Bad dream?"

"Yeah," Steve admitted.

"Wanna talk about it?" offered Becca, sitting on the couch beside him.

"I'm all right. Thanks." Steve set his book aside and kissed her temple. "We can go back to bed."

"Hang on," said Becca as he made to get up. "I've got something to say first."

She had let this go on probably longer than she should've without comment. If she had learned anything in the past couple months of seeing an addiction counselor, it was that talking could really help. Steve was leaving for D.C. in two days, so this could be the best chance she got for a while.

Becca held out her hands and Steve immediately took them, although he looked slightly puzzled.

"You've been through a lot," Becca stated, giving his hands a light squeeze. "Definitely more than anyone should have to go through. But you don't really talk about it. Maybe you feel like I wouldn't really understand. Or maybe you feel like it's your responsibility to suck it up. Or maybe you feel like if you don't talk about it, things will be easier somehow. I don't know." She shrugged. "I don't know how you feel because you don't tell me. And I know you're trying to be more open with me, but it's not enough, Steve. It's just not."

Becca let out a sigh. "I'm not saying you haveto talk to me. Maybe there's someone at S.H.I.E.L.D. or somewhere else. I really don't care who it is as long as you've got that support system. Because I'm worried that if you keep all this shit on lock down, it's going to eat you up. Really, I think it already is. And it's possible that talking won't help you, but I'd like you to try. Please?" She could see the conflict playing out on his face, so she added, "For me?"

Steve didn't want to tell Becca about his nightmare. It didn't seem right to burden her with his past. There were things that he thought would hurt more if he talked about them. There were other moments he felt ashamed to even think of recounting. But Becca gazed up at him with wide-eyed concern, and Steve didn't want her to be worried. She had become more willing to share her feelings with him. Steve knew that he hadn't been as candid. If Becca needed him to talk, then he had to try. And there was no one else he could do that with but her.

"All right," Steve agreed. "I had a dream about when I crashed the plane. I guess I was thinking about it 'cause on this last mission there was a plane that tried to take out my team. I don't know if its guns jammed or the pilot was a kamikaze the whole time, but it just dove at us.

"When I crashed that plane in the ice, time was running out. I knew that a lot of people would be dead if I didn't do something. But there was also … there was a part of me that… that…" Steve couldn't look Becca in the eye anymore. He lowered his gaze and admitted, "There was a part of me that wanted everything to be over." Guilt and shame surged up at once. "I was so angry with Hydra after Bucky died. I wanted them all dead or captured. I didn't care how. Once Schmidt had died and our army had control of the Hydra base, suddenly that anger was just… gone. I thought I would feel better then." He shook his head. "I didn't. I felt…"

Steve had to think over how to explain. "I felt like I couldn't go back and have a life with Peggy and a home after the war. I felt like I didn't deserve any better. So I chose to go down with that plane because at least then I'd go down doing something worth a damn."

The room was silent for a few seconds. Then, Becca asked, "Do you still feel that way?"

Her eyes were glassy when Steve looked up. He hated to cause her pain, but neither could he lie.

"Sometimes."

Becca inhaled sharply and nodded like she had expected that answer. "Well, um, I know that wasn't easy for you, so thank you for sharing with me. And, um… Like I said, you've been through a lot, and I can understand how that might make you feel really down. But I want you to know that you deserve so, so much out of life and you never needed to do anything to deserve that. You should get to be happy because you owe it to yourself. If that sounds dumb or cheesy, but I don't care. It's true. And maybe it's going to be a tough road for you to accept that completely, but I will be there ever step of the way as long as you need me. I don't care if you have to wake me up every night to talk or if I need to start packing myself in your suitcase so I can tell you every single second that you deserve the moon and stars. I will set up a freakin' base inside of S.H.I.E.L.D and blast a recording of me saying, 'Steve Rogers is worth it' 24/7, and Nick can just try to stop me." Steve had to smile, and Becca smiled right back. "It's okay that you have bad days, but I hope that those bad days get easier."

Whether it was finally admitting how he felt about crashing the plane or listening to Becca, Steve did feel better. Not completely better, but he was feeling a bit more at peace after confessing that he got sad sometimes. Seeing that Becca didn't look at him any differently helped, too. She might be onto something with this talking business after all. Steve wasn't sure how much he was ready to share or how soon, but a short talk every once and a while might be all right.

Steve kissed her gently. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Becca snuggled against him. Much to his amusement, she fell asleep barely a minute later. Steve picked her up and carried her to bed.

The same dream came to him about crashing into the ice, and he awoke on impact. He sat up, breathing unevenly and sticky with sweat. Instinctively, he move to get out of bed, but stopped. Steve forced in several deep breaths. He lowered himself down, set a hand on top of Becca's right one, and pressed his forehead to hers. Becca was a deep sleeper. She didn't even stir. And Steve was able to sleep in peace the rest of the night.