The Hurt And The Healing: Bucky X OC

Chapter Forty Six: Two Taps

"Come back to me, Bucky." Her soft voice washed over him like waves on the beach. He was tempted to bury himself back into the warm darkness, but a gentle touch rippled over his skin and he felt himself pulled back into the light. Coming out of the dreamless sleep was easier today than it had ever been. He just let the tide of her voice guide him back to shore.

When Bucky finally opened his eyes he heard a quiet gasp. A woman's face hovered over him. His vision was blurry despite his blinking and squinting, but he could tell that her eyes were wide and teary and her lips were pulled into a barely controlled smile.

"Hey, you," she said gently, hand skimming his forehead to push back a few sweaty hairs. "Welcome home."

He looked up at her, blinking slowly as his eyes roamed his new environment. The room was dimly lit and quiet. A window was the only source of light. Gone was the shaking and fugue from before. His body ached, but none of the pain bore stabbing freshness. He tried to turn his head and was amazed that he could do so without restraint. But when he went to push himself up on his good arm, firm hands stopped him.

"Whoa, slow down," the woman said in a kind voice so unlike those who had been giving him orders for as long as he could remember. "You're safe. You're here with me and you're safe, Bucky. I promise."

He frowned at that and tried to take stock of his injuries, but a white sheet had been draped over him.

"I've done my best to bandage you up, but it's going to be well over a month of slow recovery," she explained, guiding him to lie back down. There was a pillow beneath his head. How long had it been since he had had a pillow? "I don't know how long it will take with your healing rate. So don't try to rush things. You've been through a lot."

He tried to open his mouth to speak, but felt as though something was muzzling him. He couldn't feel any restraints, but the idea of verbalizing anything seemed impossible and so he just stared at the woman as his vision came back into focus.

Her clothes were different and her hair was tightly pulled back, but it was her. The woman in black. The woman from the cell. He had doubted himself so many times, unable to comprehend how someone that he watched die could come to him and provide comfort. But here she was.

He reached up with his left hand and gently cupped her cheek. She blinked away a few tears and tipped her head so it pressed against his palm. The memory of her warm blood spilling over him flooded Bucky's mind and he frowned. He gently turned her head so that she was looking up and slid his thumb across her jaw bone. She tensed slightly as he maneuvered her so that her neck was exposed to him, but said nothing. He carefully examined the skin for any sign of Movoniv's marks, and seeing none dropped his hand to his side.

"I'm okay, mio innocente. You didn't hurt anyone," she said quietly, turning her head back to him. "Not me or Sam or even Zemo. But I don't think you could have even if you wanted to." She frowned and patted his hand. "You were in bad shape when they found you."

Memories of the white room burst in and Bucky winced. He could remember every break and cut and bruise he had received as clearly as if he was getting it in that very moment. His memory of life before the white rooms might be blurred at best, but what Movoniv had done to him was still clear.

"Shh, I know, caro, I know," the woman said sadly, leaning down and kissing his forehead so softly that he almost missed it. "But you're safe now. You're here with us."

As if on cue the black man from before entered the room. His armor was gone but the way he carried himself had not changed and Bucky recognized him immediately. The other man had called him Samuel.