Saving Bucky (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

*Chapter 43 - Monsters*

When the morning light streams in through the missing window pane, you realize that the harsher pains from the evening prior have faded into dull aches. Sitting up in bed, you stretch, working out a kink in your neck and a knot in your shoulder.

Padding into the bathroom, you still have an ache in your back and that causes you to limp slightly. But it's not horrible. So you ignore it as you go to brush your teeth, rubbing your eyes and yawning as you glance in the mirror.

And you have to hold back a gasp at the mess of a woman that stares back.

You're a tapestry. Dark bruises, puckered and swollen, mark the length of your neck up and down both sides. A large cut on your cheek is edged by another dark bruise where you had smacked against a wooden beam the night before. And both wrists are clearly scuffed from where they'd been pinned and held for so long. One worse than the other - likely the one James had grabbed in the middle of the night.

Shocked, you slowly pull the large white t-shirt over your head, eyes widening at the damage beneath. Both breasts have teeth marks in the fleshiest parts, your nipples bruised and swollen. And a massive red and purple patch of skin runs up your right side from where you had hit the wall the night before, from your hip up to your shoulder. More than than, there are clear fingerprints dug into your thighs from James' tight grip, and hickeys on your hips.

And to top it all off, clearly on display for anyone and everyone to see, is a clear handprint around your throat - all five fingers clearly marked.

You should be furious.

But as your eyes catalogue each blemish, each bite, each bruise, your heart pounds. You even start to feel the tiniest buzz not only between your legs, but in the back of your skull. Slightly panicked, you quickly tear your gaze from the mirror and slow your breathing. You just took a pill. You can't let the buzzing come back so quickly.

Heading back into the bedroom, you dig around in your bag on the floor and look at your clothing options. At first you reach for a t-shirt James had brought back from a thrift shop a week prior. But at the last moment you stop, reaching instead for a simple plaid button up he had spotted at another store a few days ago.

Slipping it on, you leave the top three buttons open, leaving the bruises easy to spot. 

Taking a deep breath you glance towards the door, hesitating. You've decided you need to bring up the offer Steve had mentioned to you. If not for your sake, for James's. Something tells you he won't be interested in talking about it, whatever the offer is, but after last night - after the fear you had seen in his eyes - you have to ask him about it.

Moving to the door, all apprehension about talking to James vanishes the moment you pull it open as you're caught off guard by something that smells...delicious. As if on cue your stomach growls as notes of parsley and various cheeses float up the stairs. Curious, you saunter down, getting only halfway before blue eyes immediately find yours from the couch, which you realize has been turned to fully face the stairs.

"Hi," you say, glancing curiously about the living room, searching for the source of those savory scents.

"Hi," he answers stiffly, brow furrowed and lips tugged down into a frown as his eyes travel across the revealed skin on your neck and chest.

Slowly he sits up, now fully dressed in a blue Henley. You wonder how long he's been awake. But you glance to that long, narrow strip of wood on the table and realize it's finished. He must have been up all night.

"You didn't sleep," you say as you walk down the remaining steps and wander over to the sheet-covered paint buckets, picking up the intricate carving and admiring it for a moment before carefully setting it back down.