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His childhood bed. Memories of his mother bringing him to bed. His sisters waking him in the morning with jumping on his sleeping body. Really, anybody would wake up at that! Little monsters. His dad sitting at his side when he recovered from a bad cold, telling him stories from his grandparents. He usually didn't get ill, but the winter was especially cold this year, outside of their house more snow was falling than they could shovel and they couldn't heat all of the rooms sufficiently.
Memories of Steve lying next to him. They had faced each other and talked quietly for hours, even though they should be fast asleep at the time. But it was just to tempting to look in his bright blue eyes and imagine stories in which they were cowboys in the wild west. They pictured themselves riding on strong horses, typical cowboy hats on their heads, pistols ready in their waistbelts, fighting against bandits who threatened the country and the people.
Eventually he grew out of the old bed and got a new one. He still slept with Steve in one bed, when no one saw them. Their parents always told them that they'd be to old for that, and adults didn't share a bed. So they put the couch cushions on the floor for Steve. Later in the night, Steve would climb to him anyway.
The matress on the floor of his and Steve's tiny apartment. They couldn't afford much furniture, so only one matress it was. Bucky told Steve that he could use it, he'd be comfortable with the old couch they got from the former tenant. It was shabby and saggy, but at least long enough for his body. Steve didn't want to hear any of that, but Bucky would NEVER let Steve lie on this thing. In their first night, he had just pulled the blanket over himself, he heard a sudden coughing fit from the other side of the room. He was up and at Stevie's side in an instant. The tiny body was shaking with every cough and Bucky rubbed his back like he always did at these moments. He never slept on the couch again and neither of them mentioned it.
The beds in the barracks where he stayed during his military basic training wasn't as bad as he thought they'd be. Sure, the sheets were a bit thin and used, but it wasn't too cold to sleep. He missed Steve, though. He was over 1000 miles away from home, lying in this foreign bed, encircled by the sound of snoring from strangers and he hadn't felt that lonely since... ever. He made some friends during the days, but at night he was alone again. And he couldn't even tell his comrades whom he missed. Sure, he could lie and tell them about some girl back home, but it felt like betraying Steve. So, he didn't say anything and waited for going back home.
He never thought he'd miss the beds in the barracks at Camp McCoy. But as soon as they reached England, they were sent to the front and camp beds were the best they could hope for. Sometimes it was just earth and their bags to put their heads on. Days became blurred became weeks and he still dreamed of a tiny apartment, light of the moon shining in, faint sounds could be heard and on a mattress two figures were entangled in each other, sharing the bed and much more. The one thing he wanted to come back to.
Since their capture in Azzano there was only working for Hydra at day and falling asleep on cold stone out of exhaustion. He wouldn't last long like this, Bucky knew that. And still he dreamed of talented hands holding pencils and coal and turning white paper into incredible art.
Pain was all he felt during these days strapped on the table until darkness took over and graciously led him to sleep, filled with nightmares of red, soaring pain.
His first night back at the camp felt absolutely unreal. The bed was too soft, it was too quiet, and most importantly, Captain America- no, Steve, was looking at him all the time. Not once had he turned his gaze away, as if he couldn't believe it.
Well, that went both ways.
Suddenly his friend towered over him, shoulders broad and with more muscles than he could ever achieve. His eyes traveled over the trained arms and he wanted to reach out and touch him, so this hallucination would go away and he'd feel Steve's small body again. But his eyes, his eyes were still the same bright blue, and so warm when they looked at him, so warm... and for the first time since he left Brooklyn he slept almost at peace.
They were sent back to England and did the only thing any sane men would do - they patronized the next pub and got waisted. Well, he tried anyway, but maybe the time at the front was still in his bones. He dropped into his bed this evening, exhausted and, strangely, hungry. But there was no hint of the usual dizziness after drinking.
Steve told him about Peggy until he fell asleep and Bucky smiled and was happy for his friend.
Exhaustion and hunger was his constant companion at night, back at the front. And this nagging feeling of jealousy he kept hidden during the day. He dreamed of Steve and him in their apartment, standing next to the mattres and watching himself until his body transformed into a brown haired woman and he was back in the lab, strapped to a table and all he could feel was pain.
Blurred memories of cold stone and metal under his body, pain, so much pain, nightmares, blood, such much blood and dead bodies, more pain and he was always cold, so cold, so cold, so cold...
Sleeping in deserted hide outs, never fully rested, never really asleep, always at alert, bringing down Hydra on his way to the west.
Slowly regaining consciousness and some memories, although they still felt as if they belonged to someone else, and the nightmares were always there.
On the run - the Winter Soldier didn't need much rest, weapons in reach, alerted by every little sound.
He was chased, but he didn't flee from this man - he wasn't a menace - but he was still cautious. He didn't knew the reason he was chased.
Sometimes he slept at homeless shelters, the people there were mostly friendly and sincere and he could use a rest sometimes. But he couldn't risk to stay there for longer than a few days.
The bed was soft, oh so soft. The faint scent of vanilla lingered around him, lulled him into a deep sleep, let him rest for the first time since he could remember.
He dreamed of a single mattress on the floor and two bodies embracing each other, but the memory was gone when he woke up again.