Bucky had been so out of it, so... focused on Peggy, because of the nightmare, that he hadn't noticed that Steve had even been awake. The angle from where he sat had kept him from even seeing. He gasped softly when his husband spoke. Not bothering to hide the startled look, as it danced between him and her.
But he hadn't wanted to lie from the start. Which was why he'd told them as soon as... As soon as he'd realized how wrong what he'd done, had been. As soon as the island lifted whatever veil it had cast over his mind.
Bucky swallowed thickly. The truth sounded bad, he knew it did. But he also knew in the pit of his stomach that it was the truth of the whole thing. "I don't think mattered. I have to hope that I wouldn't have forced myself on someone unwilling, but I have no idea..." His voice faded as the idea of being a rapist haunted his voice. Then he shivered with a harshness that could they could have felt with the way he leaned against the side of the bed. "I don't know what would have been worse, that... I..." He wet his lips as he tasted the bile on his tongue. "Or if it had been Rachel." The only other person to ever dangle the possibility of family, of being truly loved, only to snatch it away.
He felt the burning in his stomach, the churning of acid and the meager meal he'd had before bed. He scrambled to his feet, and when they didn't work fast enough he used his fingers to claw at the floor to reach the bathroom, before he began gagging. He made it, just in time to lose everything that had been in his stomach in the john. The truth made him sick, and maybe he was as horrible a person as the dream had made him out to be.