Touch Me I'm Going to Scream // [Stucky]

Chapter 13

Disorientation is quickly followed by confusion when James' eyes open. The lights are dimmed in the living room and he needs a second to orient himself and realize that he doesn't know what he's doing here, doesn't know how he got to the couch.

James sits up and feels something slip down his chest the same moment his brain screams in pain. He looks and sees a blanket—definitely doesn't remember that. He clings to it for a second longer, not comprehending why it's warm. A second later, his ears register a voice and his senses finally check back online to warn him of someone at his right, crouching in front of him.

"How did I get here?" He didn't intend for his tone to be so demanding.

Steve sits on his haunches, warm hand withdrawing from James' knee. "I brought you." James doesn't like how that sounds and Steve must see it reflected on his face because he's quick to elaborate. "You were making yourself a shake—do you remember that?"

He needs to think it over but James finally nods his head. He looks down at his lap, hand under the blanket running up and down his thigh. His muscles tense but he's not sure if to flee or fight.

He had spent the day in the bedroom, unwilling to venture outside. Until, that is, he'd heard Steve return to the apartment and James had finally decided that he could at least drink a protein shake, maybe inspect the bookshelves Steve has near the glass wall, since James had already inspected the one in the bedroom.

Also, seeing Steve hadn't felt like a bad idea. Frankly, James had tried to get out of the bedroom on more than one occasion but his courage had shriveled every time his hand had come in contact with the handle of the door. His fear of the unknown more powerful than his curiosity of said unknown.

"I came to talk to you and..." Steve trails off. "I don't know what happened exactly, it was like you weren't... there."

Steve is looking up at him with a furrowed expression James finds difficult to decipher. He gets to his feet and sits on James' right. "Is this okay?"

James considers him for a few seconds.

"What?"

"Can I sit here?"

Steve Rogers makes his head hurt. What's more irksome is that James knows he should get used to it.

"Yes," he answers curtly and tries to slide to the left without being too obvious.

"J.A.R.V.I.S. told me you have to put lotion on your shoulder after cleaning the wound," Steve says. This must be the reason why he woke him up, James concludes.

"Not until..." His mouth falls closed. It's already night-time. "How-how much time...?" He can't finish the question, too afraid that he's lost time. He'd hoped it would only happen with HYDRA or the times he was put back in his cryo-chamber. He had imprudently thought it would stop now that he's here—in hands of HYDRA's enemies. He's just a weapon that's only changed the hands that use it, isn't he?

Weapons don't have a mother.

Weapons don't have preferences.

James would like to shut off his brain. Being a weapon is what he understands and having his own mind challenging that is... rather tiresome, among other things.

"A few hours," Steve answers, unaware of James' spiraling.

He wants to ask what happened while he was unconscious, if Steve did something, but knows he wouldn't get an honest answer. And even if the answer were yes, what is he going to do about it?

James feels his short fingernails dig deeply into the muscle of his thigh, a bruise on its way of healing aching under his fingers.

"James." Steve puts a hand on his arm, touch slow and light. James looks at him from the corner of his eye. "Tell me what's on your mind."