Saving Bucky (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Chapter 77 - A Leg to Stand On

Nimble fingers on your forehead brush away hair as a damp rag gently drags across your cheeks. Your chin. Your neck. It's cool - soothing. You let out a pleased hum and lean into the touch as your sleep-addled mind conjures images of a woman with a kind face, and clouded eyes. A memory from long ago. 

"About time."

The touch disappears, and the harsh tone contrasts against the gentle touch. Startled, you fight against your sleep-addled mind to open your eyes and find a familiar face sitting beside you.

"Natasha?" you croak, throat dry.

"Welcome back, лисичка," she says, a new fondness in her tone. She smiles and leans back in the chair at your bedside, balling up the damp rag in her hand and tossing it across the room into a wicker basket. You follow it with your eyes, still a bit dizzy and disoriented as things come into view. You're in a cabin. Small, but neatly maintained. Clean. Plain white curtains frame the two small windows. Through the frosted panes you can see just a tiny strip of night sky above the darkened treetops. It's filled with stars. Thousands of them.

"You gave us a scare," Natasha says from beside you. "How do you feel?"

You force a swallow down a dry throat. Your shoulder aches and there's a tenderness in your breast and up your neck. But that pain you've been fighting in your back is gone. Completely gone. It's a relief. 

"Not great," you groan. "But better. Where am I?" you ask.

"Safehouse," she says.

"Great," you sigh as Natasha stands and walks over to the small fireplace near the bedroom door.

Another fucking safehouse.

"Mhm," she hums, grabbing a poker and stoking the dying embers until they roar once more to life, sending a wave of warmth through the room. "Barnes thought this was the best place for us to come for now."

"James," you say breathlessly, pulse spiking at the mention of his name. You push yourself up on your elbows and glance around the tiny bedroom. "Is he here? A-and Mikolaj?"

"The confused old guy? German? Yeah. They're both here," she says, frowning as she discards the poker and walks back to your side, pushing you back down on the bed. "Relax."

"Where are they?" you question, fighting against her hand for only a moment before relenting, and sinking back into the comfort of the bed. 

"The old guy's probably asleep," Natasha smirks. "He's out like a light at 8pm sharp every night."

"And James?" you question.

Natasha's smirk disappears, as she leans against the wall near the head of your bed, and pulls back the curtain with a single finger, peering out into the night. "Not sure," she says sadly. "But he's here. Somewhere."

You let out a sigh of relief knowing both men made it out of the facility. But as you think back on how you escaped, the details get blurry. You had spoken to Steve on the phone, and kept his voice in your ear as you traversed the halls of the facility. Endless, endless corridors of identical cement passageways. After almost fifteen flights of stairs you remember the pain in your back becoming unbearable. Then your legs gave out.

But nothing after that.

James must have found a way out of the building after you collapsed.

With a determined huff, you push yourself fully upright. "I need to find James," you say. But Natasha rolls her eyes and pushes you back down.

"What you need is to get some rest," she huffs. "The two of you have been missing for almost six weeks. I don't know what happened, but by the state of you - and him - it can't be good."