Saving Bucky (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Chapter 31 - Staying

"Slow down, Y/n."

"Bite me, Steve."

"I'm serious. You're going to overexert yourself."

You grit your teeth and take another step, batting Steve's hand away from your arm. He tries to roll the IV stand next to you but you push it over and it clangs to the floor. You can do this. You don't need the stand. You don't need him. You don't need anyone.

"Y/n, stop," Steve says, his voice dropping in register as the command sends chills down your arm. It's powerful. But despite the autonomous physical reaction to his order you ignore him, and set your sites on the opposite wall across the vacuole, only a few steps away.

Wincing at the aching pain in your lower back, you take another step, and another, reaching out a hand to catch the wall. Your fingertips are inches away from the moss-covered stones, dampened by the water that trickles from the ceiling. But as your fingertips brush against the fuzzy plant your breath catches and you stop, your knees growing weak as suddenly they give out.

"Woah, I gotcha."

You let out a pained groan through a clenched jaw as Steve catches you, pulling you up to his chest and carrying you back over to your hospital bed - freshly changed with new sheets and a new blanket and pillow he had picked up on his latest venture out. You can't help but be grateful for the various amenities that have found their way into the tunnels.

"I told you not to push yourself like that," Steve frowns.

"I was fine," you say as he sets you down and slips the sandals he got you from your feet. "I made it, didn't I?"

"I said five times back and forth, Y/n," Steve scolds. "I was gone for two hours and you were still walking when I came back. How many did you do?"

You bite the inside of your cheek, glancing down at your toes and mumbling.

"What was that?" he probes.

"Twenty three," you say out loud, earning a groan and an eye roll from the super soldier as he shakes his head and puts his hands on his hips like a disappointed mother hen.

"You can't do that, Y/n," Steve says. "You're not strong enough for that yet. And we need to be careful. With that bullet in your back-"

"With this bullet in my back what, Steve?" you spit. "I should baby myself? I should never push myself again? I should sit back and let other people wait on me because I'm too weak to do anything on my own?"

"That's not what I'm saying," Steve says, exasperated.

"Well it's how I feel!" you say angrily.

"Y/n," Steve says, his tone softening as he raises both hands and takes a seat next to your bed in a plastic chair he had brought back the week prior. "Please calm down. We can't afford a headache today."

You bite back tears as that buzzing sound in your temples pulses, growing louder then softer like waves over a frequency that keeps changing. He's right. You're low on your medication - only eight tiny pills left. You're having to seriously ration. Taking a deep breath you close your eyes and begin your meditations - the ones Steve taught you when you first woke up after seizing. You're not sure how much time passes - it's hard to keep track when you're focused like that. But soon that static clears, ebbing away and settling low in the base of your skull.

"Better?"

You open your eyes and look to Steve, nodding. He gives you a soft smile and walks over to the cooler, recently restocked, pulling out a sunbutter and banana sandwhich. He hands it to you and you grimace.