The Pink Ghost

Sixty-Two

Once they were in a room used for stitching her up after missions, she closed the door behind them and broke down. Forcing him to look at her, tears spilling from her eyes, she began quickly assessing his wounds.

"Oh my god. I can't... I did this... Why are they—oh my god." Unable to speak properly through her sobs, she kneeled down in front of Dmitri and looked up at him, face soaked with tears streaking through her own blood covered skin.

"I'm so sorry, Dmitri. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She cried over and over.

He pulled her too her feet, wincing as he had to bend and put pressure on his side.

"This isn't your fault. It wasn't you. If I know anything about not being able to control yourself, it's this. What I don't understand is how we never realized we were both soldiers."

Rose averted her eyes, shame washing over her. She never wanted anyone she cared for to find out. She hated was she was, what she does.

Turned away from him she grabbed peroxide, gauze, and suture tools to stitch him up. Pouring alcohol into a dish and dropping the needle into sterilizing alcohol until ready, she forced herself to fall into medical mode. She washed her hands, dried them, sanitized them, and turned to face him again. She ignored his attempts to talk to her, grabbing his shirt and ripping it down the middle, yanking it off of him.

Brows arched, lips parted, he looked at her through lidded eyes. Grinning as he watched her reaction to his body, he could see her chest rising and falling a little faster as her breathing picked up.

"Darling," he smirked when she finally glanced at him. "If you wanted to get me out of my clothes, you didn't have to stab me."

Fighting back a laugh, she rolled her eyes and poured the alcohol over one of the stab wounds causing him to cry out at the burn.

"I'm sorry," she smirked, "Must have grabbed the alcohol instead of the peroxide."

Rolling out a low laugh, pulling his lip between his teeth, he tilted his head down but looked up at her through his lashes. Her breath hitched at the way he looked at her.

Swallowing thickly, she went back to cleaning the wounds, wrapping the ones that could be wrapped or covered, and then threading the needle. Placing her index finger and thumb on either side of the wound, she used them to hold the skin from pulling too much. Sliding the needle through the first flap, he hissed at the bite. Slipping it into the other side, she tugged slowly, pulling the skin together and tying it off, repeating the process over and over until each stab wound and laceration were stitched closed.

He gently took her elbow in his hand and forced her to look at him.

"I'm sorry I hurt you."

Rose shook her head; she knew it wasn't him who hurt her. It was the soldier.

"I'm fine."

"No. I promised to be the one to protect you from guys like me. I never wanted to cause you any kind of pain."

She dabbed gauze in sterilized cleaning solution and began gently wiping the dried blood from his face, lips, and nose. Wincing when she touched his nose, she apologized.

"It's broken. There's really nothing I can do for that, but maybe pop it in place to hopefully heal straight."

"It's fine, I got it." Looking down, placing the heel of each palm on either side of his nose, he jerked one hand up and the other down at the same time causing a loud pop.

He already had bruises forming under his eyes from the broken nose, not to mention the blows from her fists.

Grabbing the gauze, he dipped it in the solution and began cleaning her wounds and bloodied skin just as she did for him. Stitching up the small lacerations from split skin, he covered the larger one with gauze so it wouldn't catch while she slept.

Once her face was as clean as it could get without showering, he tossed the bloodied waste into the trash. Standing in front of her, he looked at the bruises already forming from where his fists hit her. Hating himself, his eyes filled with regret, sadness, and self-hatred.

Rose noticed.

Placing her hand on his metal arm, refusing to allow him to jerk away from her, she looked into his eyes.

"I'm not afraid of you. You didn't do this. This wasn't you."

His jaw flexed as he ground his teeth together.

"Hey," Her other hand came up to caress his cheek.

Leaning into her touch, he closed his eyes and tried to memorize the feeling. When he opened his eyes, her face was so close to his, he could feel her breath against his lips. Her eyes bore into his, telling him everything he ever wanted her to say in one look.

As he leaned forward to close the distance, the door opened forcing them to jump away from one another.

Grant looked between the two, glaring. He noticed Dmitri's shirt was off and how close they were standing. Not liking what he walked in on, he stepped aside to make room for them to exit.

"Rose, got home. I'll be there shortly." His voice laced with anger, it made Rose not want to leave the safety of being in a room with others. "A car is waiting." He added.

Nodding, Rose lowered her head and left the room, making her way down to the car.

Grant glared at Dmitir.

"What was that?"

Dmitri played dumb. "What was what, sir?"

"Don't play stupid with me, boy. What were you doing with my wife?"

Dmitri's eyebrow arched when he called her his wife. What did he care about her? He proved time and time over that he didn't.

"I'm sorry, sir. I don't know what you're referring to. She was helping me clean my wounds."

"Where's your shirt?" Pierce asked.

"Ripped up from the stabbings and slice marks. It's in the trash bin in there."

Taking the answer for what it was, Pierce nodded and excused him. Dmitri left the room, standing outside the door where he was expected to be when Pierce was done.

"They were too close in there, Pierce. This isn't a good idea."

"So, what if they do fall back together this way? The way they are now? They'll be a force to be reckoned with. They're both still under Hydra's control."

"If this all goes south, I'm telling Zemo it's all on you." Grant stated and left leaving Pierce alone in his side office.