[He shifted slightly, moving to start to edge his belly and chest to settle on the bed. He still held Rumlow close, wanting the familiar press of that body against his own. In some ways, he thought of returning to the peace and often oppressive quiet of Limbo, but he could never abandon his commander. This house might be nice, but there were... oddities about it that made him suspicious of it.]

I don't remember most of what I dream about, but sometimes... there is so much blood. It's like I'm drowning in it. When I wake, it feels like when my chest was caved in, but I'm whole... and then I always wake with blood on me.

[It wasn't that he hid the fact that if he stayed in one place too long he would find the little girl bleeding on him, but he didn't want anyone to be concerned about him so he cleaned well. As he always had.]

Will a warm glass of milk before bed help?