The Blood Pact

Chapter 16: If tomorrow is coming

Here we go! Final chapter. No warnings except sexual references and references to violence/death.

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Everything hurt. Body parts that you didn't even know could hurt...hurt.

You managed to open your eyes but it was an effort, as if gravity was weighing harder on your eyelids than usual. The room you were in had some light from the corner, but otherwise was dark and gloomy.

Where were you?

Were you dead?

You had expected the afterlife to be a bit more dazzling, if you were being completely honest.

You were lying down. It was soft, warm and comfortable. A bed? You ran your hand out over the sheets as your eyes adjusted and you tried to work out what was happening. Everything felt confusing and disorientating, like emerging from a half remembered dream.

You realised there was a slight pressure in your other arm, turning to look at it. In your forearm was a needle, your eyes followed the line to find it attached to an IV sitting at the side of the bed. You could see a pouch of blood at the top, feeding through to your veins.

Blood?

Why would you need blood?

Oh.

Yes.

Now you remembered. Rumlow. Bucky. Everything.

Suddenly alert and up to speed you cautiously sat up straight, careful not to yank the IV. As your eyes adjusted you realised you were in your room. In your bed. You scanned it quickly. The windows and shades had been taped over with cardboard and newspaper, not a single slither of light escaping. No wonder it was so dark in here. Your desk lamp illuminated one corner, but otherwise the room was dull. The bedroom door was closed, but you could see it was mangled and hanging off its hinges.

A small snort from the other side of your bed made you flinch and return to your heightened state from earlier. You whipped around on high alert, your heart swelling at the sight before you.

Bucky was sat in your desk chair, angled to face the bed. His head was slumped into his chest, his arms folded. He was sleeping, no doubt exhausted after his early wakeup call that morning.

Your stomach sunk as you remembered the events of the morning, your eyes tentatively darting to the scene of the crime. The spot where Rumlow had been was now covered in a heavy blanket, shielding the ruined floor underneath from view. But you knew what had happened there.

Back to Bucky. He snored rhythmically as you watched his chest rise and fall. You observed him for a few moments, not getting to see him like this very often as you normally fell asleep before him and he'd be gone by the time you woke up. You smiled at him lovingly, hardly believing you were still here to see him again.

"Buck..." you called out. Your voice was raspy and small, betraying how weak you felt. "Buck..." you tried again, but it was so quiet you doubt it could penetrate his deep sleep.

His snores stopped abruptly as his eyes flew open and his body jerked awake. His baby blues were on you in a second as they widened in surprise, he flew over to the bed a second later.

"Hey, doll" he said gently as he stroked your hand with his. You had never been more grateful to feel his cold skin against you.

"Hi" you whispered back, your head lolling back onto the pillow.

"How you feelin'?" he asked. "Aside from the obvious..."

"Tired. Sore" you replied croakily. You looked over at the IV again, your face screwed up in confusion. "What..."