Saving Bucky (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Chapter 28 - Moss

It feels like only seconds before you wake once more, but it must have been quite a bit longer than that. Your mouth tastes like sand and your entire body aches. Steve sits on the floor nearby, slumped against the wall, his forehead resting on the top of his knee. He's ragged and exhausted, dressed in new clothes that are now just as grimy and sweaty as the ones you had last seen him in. And what was once a clean-shaven face is now stubbled.

Forcing a painful swallow down your throat, it takes a moment for you to summon the strength to speak.

"Am I dead?" you groan, wincing at the headache throbbing in your temples.

"Y/n? Oh thank God," Steve says, scrambling to his feet. He grabs a dirty cloth hanging on the bedrail and gently wipes your forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"Remember when you jumped on that grenade?" you spit weakly. "Kinda like that. If it had actually gone off."

Steve rolls his eyes and lets out a huff. "You people know way too much," he grumbles beneath a suppressed laugh as he places the inside of his wrist on your forehead. "At least the fever's gone," he says, reaching into a cooler at his feet.

"Fever?" you ask.

"You've been in and out for a little over a week," Steve says, uncapping a plastic water bottle and helping you to take small sips.

You're surprised, but too tired and in too much pain to ask questions. As you drink, the ache in your temples spreads. You're starting to slip into a weird, quick-sand like mental state. The same one you had felt as you held that strawberry in your hand in the ranch house's kitchen. You suddenly feel dizzy and pull back from the bottle, but gasp as Steve's face shifts, morphing into that of a woman as she gently guides you back, helping you drink. She's young with long, bleached-blonde hair braided over one shoulder. You try to make out her features, but you can't see her very well - it's as if you're looking at her through a single, broken lens.

"Don't be stubborn, Y/n. Bad girls don't get to go outside. Drink."

"Y/n?" 

You struggle to breathe as the woman's face disappears and Steve is standing over you once more, pulling the bottle away as he tries to dry the spilt water from your chin and chest. 

"Y/n!" Steve says again, concerned. "What happened?"

"Meds," you pant, panicked as he caps the bottle and tosses it back in the cooler.

"I gave you morphine three hours ago," he says, checking his phone. "I can't give you anymore until-"

"No," you say urgently. "The pills."

Steve quickly reaches into his pocket and pours one into his hand. As he does, you notice you're running dangerously low.

"W-where did they go?" you ask, swallowing the pill. "I...I thought there were more."

"You've been taking them," Steve says gently. "One a day. Sometimes two."

"What?" you ask, confused. "I-I don't...I thought-?"

"I had to give them to you," he says, pocketing them and helping you to lay back down. "After four days you started hallucinating. They were the only thing that could calm you down."

"Hallucinating?" you ask.

Steve nods, and your stomach churns as you wonder if what just happened was a hallucination or another memory. Disturbed, you shift slightly in bed to get a better look at Steve to ask more questions. But you notice that you're no longer in the paper gown you were wearing last time you awoke. Rather, you're in a pair of navy blue pajamas you've never seen before. And your hair is damp and smells like apples. You shoot him a panicked glance.