"выкл с головой."

Bucky was mumbling in his sleep again.

Their job had been to wait in the hotel room in case Nat needed them. She didn't want "the boys tagging along and getting in the way", so she'd plopped them down in room 221 and told them to stay put.

But they got bored, and the drive had been killer. So they swapped some shut-eye, one napping and the other keeping an ear on Natasha's progress.

"And target sighted," said Nat's voice from the speakers. Bucky mumbled something else before rolling over.

"I've got to crack down on learning Russian," Steve muttered.

"What does that have to do with the mission, Cap?" Natasha asked under her breath.

"Not a thing," Steve sighed.

"Then why'd you say it? Target in his car."

"Bucky."

"...he speaks English." There was a loud explosion on her end. "Target dealt with."

"Not when he's sleeping. I think the Winter Soldier comes back to him. In his dreams."

"Late target's guards opening fire," Nat said. "Opening return fire. So ask him about it!" she yelled over the flurry of gunshots."

"I did. He doesn't remember any of his dreams. I just thought that it might help his PTSD to get it out of his system. Did me some good."

There was another explosion, this one much closer to Natasha. "Grenades," she commented. "You sure he just doesn't want to talk about it?"

"Nat, I'm his best friend. There's nothing we haven't told one another."

There was screaming and grunting, followed by the distinct sound of bones snapping. "Well let me have a listen. Late target's guards disabled."

Steve picked up the speaker and brought it closer to the bed where Bucky was still mumbling to himself. Then he set it back on the desk.

"Well?" he asked.

"In the getaway car. I don't know, Steve. Sounded like normal dreams to me. He said something about grace and hats. The only full sentence I caught was, 'I hate Wonderland.'"

Steve sighed. "Oh well. It was worth a shot."

"And mission complete," said Nat. A few minutes later, she crawled through the hotel room window, covered in blood and dust. She threw the room service menu at Bucky, who sat up drowsily. "Let's say we order some stuffed mushrooms and call it a day."

"I don't want to collect more mushrooms, Regina," mumbled Bucky, falling back into the pillows, fast asleep.