The Hurt And The Healing: Bucky X OC

Chapter Eighty Two: Come Back Here And Make Me Forgive You

Bucky wasn't sure what time was doing when he realized that Mara's biting down on the kill switch was intentional. Maybe it slowed down. Maybe it sped up. Maybe it stopped entirely. But whatever it did, it was not going to take her from him. Damn her stubborn pride for making her decide to kill herself to save him. He could be stubborn too. And he was not going to lose her.

He charged forward with a roar, shoving Movoniv out of his way and managing to get his hands around the thick metal band strapped across her chest. He pulled with everything he had, feeling the bands snap apart after far too many precious seconds. Her chest heaved beneath him from the residual pain of her previous sessions, and he knew she couldn't take another blow, even a massively reduced one. He had to free her entirely, or risk losing her, forever.

Her legs were restrained by leather, not metal, so he turned his attention to the manacles on her wrists. They were tighter than the ones on her head and chest had been, but he still managed to work his thumb and forefinger around the one on her right wrist.

"Mara!" he shouted as sparks began to fly from the exposed wires beside her head and ribs.

She looked up at him and smiled, her blood mingling with Movoniv's in her mouth.

Damn the woman. If they survived this, he was going to stage a fucking intervention.

The right shackle popped off with a tug, but he couldn't get a grip on the left one. The burns snaking up her arms had ripped to spill slick blood on the metal, and her wrist was swollen from being slammed against the table with each wave of power cresting through her.

The shower of electricity began to rain from the chair, and desperation sunk its teeth into him. He grabbed onto the shackle with both hands, bracing his feet against the chair as he pulled and the power began to pound into him. He screamed in pain and frustration as he tried to free her, or to at least redirect some of the electricity away from her. Her screams mixed with his in the air as the pain ripped into her, her whole body thrashing in the chair as she instinctively tried to get away from the deadly force.

Bucky's own instincts were at war within him. He couldn't take much more of this. The blistering brightness of the white rooms was nothing compared to the all-consuming darkness of this pain. Even if he did somehow survive it, his left arm was literally fried. Several plates of vibranium popped off and clattered to the floor, and the joint connecting his shoulder with his arm sent bolts of pain to his heart. But as much as every fiber in his being wanted to let go, he couldn't. Mara was already weakened by her previous bouts with the chair, and her screams had given way to silence as her mouth remained locked open in a strangled wail. If he let go now and made her take the brunt of the power, she would die. If he held on for much longer, he could die. But that was still the better choice. Because a life without Mara was far darker than any pain Movoniv could put him through.

Time continued to not move as he forced himself to hold on and begged her to do the same. Eventually she stopped shaking and slumped back, mouth open and eyes closed. His ears were ringing too loudly for him to tell whether the machine was still humming, but the pain felt old and he knew the chair was off. The killing blow had been dealt. He had survived it. But that didn't matter so long as she was still unconscious.

"Mara?" he whispered, wrenching his hands off of the remaining manacle that was stronger than his will to go on if she was dead. He traced his fingertips over her face, trying to spot any sign of life. Blood trailed down her burn covered body, and he swore Movoniv would pay for every scar left behind.

"Mara?" he repeated, tears falling from his eyes and cutting paths through the grime on her cheeks. He tried to feel a pulse, but his hands shook too much. He tried to listen for her heartbeat, but his ears still rang from the sound of his own screams. He tried to see her chest rise and fall with breath, but his vision still swam from the pain.