Redemption ||Bucky Barnes||

32. Broken

Something isn't right. I don't know what.

I'm somewhere I think I should remember. I assume I'm still in the Hydra facility. But why am I in a hallway of all places? Am I escaping? I don't hear sirens.

Way confused, I continue down the hall. My pulse pounds. Nothing about this feels right. Things are too quiet, too calm.

Something's going to happen, I can feel it in my bones.

"I never wanted it to come to this."

I gasp loudly, hearing Jessabelle's faint voice. Though I know I'm going to regret it, I follow it. She sounds...pained. Like she's actually feeling something other than nothing for once.

"All it would have took was surrender."

I turn a corner, her voice is louder now. The first door I see is open just a slit. I can worry about attacking Jessabelle later, I want to see what's going on. The door creaks at my touch. I freeze when Jessabelle's eyes find me.

Her expression is off. She's confused, guarded. She's not shouting for backup, she's not restraining me. I mirror her befuddled expression. After a long moment, she turns back to whatever she's facing.

I pale when I realize what she's in—what we're both in. A morgue. Aisles of dead people locked away, sleeping for eternity. She's got a body on the table, I can see their legs and feet. I almost vomit.

Since Jessabelle is oblivious to me for some weird reason, I move in. She stands at her full height, sniffles, then turns on her heels. She walks past me as though I'm air, I watch her until she shuts the door behind her.

When I turn back to the body, it dawns on me.

My legs pull me towards the cadaver on the metal slab. My breaths catch. It's not Vanessa I see, or either of my parents. It's not anyone from S.H.I.E.L.D. I know. It's not even Bucky. While I'm glad it's none of them, I still recognize the corpse.

Her skin is washed out from death, she's in a state of eternal sleep. I want to touch her, but I know if I do, I may just go right through her.

I'm a ghost after all. And the body I'm staring at, the one Jessabelle had just—what? Mourned over?—is my own.

***

I'm sweating, and for a brief second, I forget I'm in pain. I pull away from Bucky, not intentionally. My breathing quickens. I look around with wide eyes. I'm not in a morgue, I'm still playing prisoner with Bucky. I let out a breath.

It was just a dream.

"Dani?"

I whimper, realizing I've woken him. "I'm sorry, Buck."

"No, what happened? What's wrong? What hurts?" He sits up.

"Bad dream. And you know everything hurts," I say bluntly. "It was nothing."

Bucky doesn't say anything, he embraces me gingerly. I take some deep breaths to still my aching, wired body. I'm okay. I'm not really safe, but I'm okay. Bucky's here, he's not going anywhere. I'm still alive, in pain, but still alive.

I look at the marks on the wall. I count them twice to make sure I'm not miscounting. Twenty-one days, three weeks. We're still surviving Hydra at three weeks. We should feel accomplished.