Chapter 4: Bucky Barnes - Perfectly Toasted Toast (Part III)

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Steadily the numbers counted down. Following the flow of seconds. There wasn't much to do. Besides stare at the timer. Sitting on the kitchen counter.

Soup was in the microwave. Bread in the oven toaster. As the A.I. ghost had called it. A tray to my right was set up for a meal in bed.

I could hear the shower running upstairs. The young woman was finally awake. According to Eve. Somewhat functional compared to the last few days.

"Huh... Mr. Barnes?"

"What is it?"

My muscles tensed up. Ready for Hydra to come through the windows. I hopped onto my feet. Then I heard the shower stop. A clattering of objects bouncing off tiles.

"Would you mind getting to Val before she decides to break her neck with the stairs?"

"Buddy!?" I heard the young woman yell from beyond the room. "Shirt off! I need to check if there's an infection! Did any of the stitches ri – shiiiit!!" The fast speaking was broken with a thud.

For some reason or another, my arms listened to the order. Removing my shirt. The shirt blinded me for a moment. Even restrained me a tad. A moment that almost had me jumping out of my skin.

A couple fingertips brushed against my chest. Soft and gentle. So very foreign. But yet, almost familiar.

"...Where the hell is the cut? Eve! I thought you said I was out for five days."

The young woman's face was seven centimeters away from my skin. Brows furrowed in confusion. An open first aid kit tucked under her arm. The bottle of alcohol rub in one hand. Hair dripping with water. Still favoring her right leg.

"You were out for five days."

A shiver raced down my spine. Those fingers glided across the muscle. Her lips twisted into a frown. A nail scraped at my skin. The touch so careful. Feather light.

"It's not makeup. It's... it's gone. Am I...? Am I going fucking insane? There's not even trace of it. I swear.... That wasn't a dream, right? I mean, we're in the bloody safe house.... What?"

"It healed a couple days ago."

In all likelihood, there were cameras in the bathroom.... It's the only explanation to the A.I. ghost knowledge. There were speakers in there.

How did one live so watched...? Then again, I never did go unnoticed. As I thought I did. From 65 days ago, nothing's changed. Always watched. But so was this young woman in front of me.

"Wow.... I wish I could heal like that."

Her ankle would have been healed by now if she did. She wouldn't be wobbling on a leg.

"You don't," I corrected.

I was a weapon.

A broken weapon was useless. All this was a result of experiments. To make a better machine of death.

I touched her elbow. To stabilize the young woman.

Her head jerked up. Gray eyes scanning my face.

My hat. My beard. They weren't there.

I backed away from her.

The metal arm was exposed. That linked me to a terrorist. Splattered all over the news.

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