"Sloppy," the Madame called. At the disapproval, a cold, metal hand punched me in the gut. The air was instantly knocked out of my lungs and I was gasping on the ground. "Get up," she rolled her eyes.
I knew it would only get worse if I did not do as she had asked, I started to try and get my legs under me, but my body would not listen. All that I could do was flop on the floor, desperately trying to get my diaphragm to get some air in. I couldn't move.
"Again," the female voice was sharp, she was irritated more than usual. In the following second, a boot was rammed into my gut.
The only reason I was able to stop the scream was the lack of air in me. I kept trying to get up, my legs finally getting under me as I stood. "Stand straight," Madame called as I finally got up, and I struggled against my abdomen's spasms for air to get myself straight.
"Run it again," she ordered, I wasn't even breathing right. Despite that and the dizzy feeling starting to cloud my vision, I entered the starting position and found my partner doing the same. The Winter Soldier wasn't an amazing ballet dancer, his right leg was always just a hair out of position. I always had to compensate for it, it was what had caused my 'sloppy' performance a few seconds ago that ended in the two blows.
Figure your shit out, you bastard, I grumbled at him in my mind. If I didn't make it through this lesson and died because of him, I would haunt him for the rest of his life. I shot my gaze to that leg, if he didn't move it inside a few more inches, I would have to compensate again.
He must have gotten the message, and quickly fixed his positioning. At the start of the music, I stepped my foot exactly where it needed to be, and he moved himself around me. Then he lifted me up and I started to do the portion of the dance around him. He was able to hold his core and anchor my movements, which was helpful.
He spun around with me, and then set me down in front of him. Pause, two, three. Then I lifted onto my pointe shoes and he spun me, my shoes left small bloody footprints wherever they had been on him as my toes had started to bleed halfway through this lesson.
He stepped back, and I stepped elegantly forward, stepping forward in tiny motions on the point shoes to meet him. I was straining to keep my arms looking flowy, loose, and elegant while all my muscles were firing. The point of ballet was to make it look effortless even when it was burning.
The door slammed open and shocked me, I jumped backwards and fell into a defensive position, the dance forgotten about. "We need them prepped for a mission," Ivan shouted, "now," his face was red as I had ever seen it. Something was wrong and making his desperate.
I panted a bit as I relaxed knowing it was just him, something about that was funny.
"The meaning?" The Winter Soldier stood up and faced him, the only one who could do that and live to talk about it.
"Steve Rogers, I want him dead," Ivan's grin turned feral and wicked.
All the blood drained from my face and I felt like my organs dropped to the floor. The world stopped, no, not Steve.
Before I knew it, two metal pieces were on my temples, "I want you to bring him here alive, and torture him the way we did to you," a voice that belonged both to the Madame and Ivan growled from behind me.
I heard a terrible sound from somewhere to the left, Steve's scream. My blood froze, and I was suddenly running towards that sound. The walls seemed to stretch and I felt like I was running forever. I knew every inch of the damned manor and I knew that it shouldn't take me this long to get to the 'information extraction' areas, but it felt like the faster and harder I ran, the more stuck I became.
I finally reached the door and opened it to what should have been the room itself, but I was in some form of watching gallery. I ran up and pounded on the glass, this wasn't right. This wasn't here. This wasn't real.
"STEVE!" I shouted, but he was strapped onto the familiar table. Everything about the room was exactly how I remembered it, but not this glass separating us. I was about to turn around and find my way into the room, when someone appeared from the shadows behind him.
Fuck, no, how was that possible? I was the one standing over him, or someone who looked exactly like me. The version of me had a scalpel in her hand. No, no, no, no.
"Nat?" Steve turned to look at that version of me that was not me, "oh thank gosh you're here, help me and let's go." He was so innocent and desperate, the hope he had looking at me made what happened next worse.
"No," she plunged the knife right into his side. He screamed, I screamed, everything was loud. I saw his blood and his pain, and I knew I had caused it.
"NOO," I screamed and thrashed against the glass, railing my whole body weight against it, fighting at it. I whirled and sent a kick at it, my leg shattering on impact, I didn't stop. I kept thrashing and hitting the glass, I had to get to Steve. Steve. Steve.
"NOO," I shot up and opened my eyes. I shook my head as my vision cleared and I realized where I was, Avengers tower. I had woken up in an unfamiliar room, and it took me an extra moment to realize that I was in Bruce's room. He had insisted I spend the night with him again, and I'm not sure how he won.
He rolled over with a groan, "can you please shut up and stop moving?"
I did have a tendency to act out my nightmares, "sorry," I panted, not realizing how out of breath I was from the dream. I was covered in a cold sweat, my heart was pounding so fast it was sending ripples through my whole body, and I couldn't get the aggressive shaking on my muscles to stop.
"Just be quiet, please," he grumbled. I did feel badly that I had interrupted his sleep, even if I hadn't been in voluntary control, I still felt incredibly guilty and embarrassed.
I sat there for a long time, just trying to puzzle out that dream. I hoped I hadn't called out for Steve, but I was pretty sure Bruce would be questioning me if I had. I also was a bit shocked I had fallen asleep given how uncomfortable I was with Bruce, I hadn't ever fallen asleep in the same bed as him. I must have been so tired despite the few hours of sleep Steve had helped me get this morning.
I moved to get out of the bed, I couldn't go back to sleep anyways, "where are you going?" His voice was so groggy that I barely made out the slurred sentence.
"I think I'm going to sleep in my own room," I explained and silently crept away.
"We'll talk more about that tomorrow," he rolled over again and that seemed to be the end of the issue. I was thankful he was sleepy enough to not make a big deal.
That was the first time I had fallen asleep while Bruce and I had been in the same bed. I hadn't had a nightmare that bad in ages... since Steve and I started dating. The timing didn't seem coincidental.
I walked silently out of his room and closed the door behind me. I took a large breath of the fresh air from the hallway, his room had a terrible air freshener, and I just needed to get that and his own scent out of my lungs. I walked away from his door and over to mine. Our rooms were far, which I would never, ever complain about.
I had my hand on the handle to my door, but some nagging feeling wouldn't leave me alone. Yes, it was just a damned dream, but I was worried about Steve. I felt like I couldn't relax until I knew that he was okay and some version of me had not stabbed him. Maybe it was a metaphor and my mind knew deep down that I was only hurting him by keeping him as mine, but something about dreaming the blood and seeing it made it all so real. Something about that dream was haunting me more than normal.
Steve had been really good at waking me from nightmares since I let him know about them. On the nights we would sleep together, I felt the safest. I knew if I had one, he would save me from it. Even if he wasn't sleeping with me when I had them, if I went to him after he provided the most amazing care. Before we started dating, Clint was really the only one who could get me to calm down and even have a chance of getting me back to sleep after a bad dream... now Steve could get me back asleep within two hours. That was a miracle.
Maybe I just wanted to be with him and see if it was his presence that had the power to get me to go back to sleep, I was still so desperately tired. Maybe I really did just need to see that he was safe, but something had me creeping over to his bedroom.
I hesitated before going in, maybe this was selfish. I stood there for a while just debating if I should, how much of an invasion of his privacy this would be. I debated going through the air vents to check, but something about that made me feel like I was spying on him, and that felt wrong too.
I pushed the handle just a bit and found it unlocked, dork. Yes we were in a secure tower, but he should lock his door. He said his door would always be unlocked if I needed him, but I guess a part of me thought that that would stop when this whole Bruce thing started. I cracked the door just a bit, why did I feel so weird about this? He would always let me just come over in the middle of the night, even before we were together... but something about 'being' with Bruce made me question if this was still okay with him.
The vision of him bleeding out flashed to the front of my mind again, and I threw my head back with exasperation at how long it was taking me to make the decision. I finally pushed the door open, pulling it up slightly so it didn't make a sound.
I expected him to be asleep at this hour, but he was laying on his side with his head propped up, clearly watching to see who was at the door and if they were coming in or not.
I panicked a bit, he wasn't supposed to be awake.
"Hey you," he smiled, he was wide awake and clearly had been for some time.
"Hey," I gave a sheepish smile back, letting the door fall behind me. How do I explain I was only coming in here to watch him sleep and make sure that he wasn't dead like I just dreamed about?
"What's up?" He patted the bed next to him, but I stayed where I was. He was visibly a bit upset about that, so he sat up fully to face me, "what's wrong?"
I dodged his stare and looked at the ground, I was so embarrassed about being this upset about a dream.
"Bad dream?" He immediately puzzled it out, he probably knew the moment I entered the room, he knew me that damned well.
"Ya," I admitted, no point in lying right now.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He offered, he also was clearly not liking the distance I was forcing between us.
"I don't know," I shook my head, realizing I actually didn't know what would help right now.
"You want to shower or take a bath?" He offered, that was a common go to for me.
"No," and for some reason it didn't sound appealing. I just didn't feel like myself.
"Do you just want to stand there?" The question could have so easily sounded sarcastic, but he was so genuine. He was just trying to puzzle this new side of me out (and honestly, so was I) and do whatever I needed.
"Is it bad if I say yes?" I asked, I didn't know what would help at this point, but standing here was making me feel better than I had a few moments ago.
"Not at all," his smile was so comforting. I could still see him fighting the urge to come over to me, but he would never force himself on me.
I just stood there and stared around the room for a while, I could also tell he was watching me like a hawk for any sign that I might collapse. I was still shaking like a leaf and I probably didn't look all that stable at the moment.
"I don't know what I want to do," I spoke the thought out loud, "I don't know what would help."
"That's okay," Steve slowly stood up and I tensed not to flinch at it. He must have seen and stopped his progress, just put his hands up. I got so, so jumpy after nightmares. "I'm going to sit back down," he told me as he slowly did so, "sorry."
"You don't need to apologize, I shouldn't be so sensitive," I shook my head in disapproval at myself.
"You can be sensitive, that's not a bad thing," he had said that to me a myriad of times and I was still trying to believe him.
I kept standing there and thinking of what would help, "are you hurt?" I blurted.
"Um, no?" He answered, but he was confused about why I had asked.
"This is weird, but can you take your shirt off?" I needed to see that he was okay.
I saw a quick and probably indecent joke flash across his face, but he knew now wasn't the time. He started to pull the shirt off without question or hesitation, "you don't have to answer, but did I get hurt in your dream?"
"Ya," I nodded and took a few steps closer to him, just staring at the spot where the other version of me had driven a scalpe into him. It would have been a fatal cut, but where it should have been, his skin was clear and intact.
"You want to feel it?" He inquired as he must have read my mind.
"Yes," I asked more than stated. He laid down on his back, "no, don't" I stopped him. I didn't like that, he had just been tied down.
"Okay," he immediately stopped and sat back up.
"Okay," I copied and tried to calm myself down. I needed to be less jumpy and reactive. I tentatively reached my hands out and touched the area. He didn't watch my hands, he just trusted me and watched my face for any reaction.
"See, I'm okay," he reaffirmed.
"You're tense," I felt his muscles tense a fraction at my touch, "you don't tru-"
"No, I do trust you," he insisted, "I fully trust you, your hands were just a bit colder than I thought, they caught me off guard."
I didn't fully believe that.
"Nat, trust me," I would always trust him, "I am not scared of you, I trust you." For emphasis, he closed his eyes, "I fully trust you." He knew how important trust was to me, how much I struggled to give it and how I didn't think I would ever deserve it.
"Okay," I stepped back. I don't know how I always trusted him so fully, but I did. He opened his eyes and started to smile at me, "what?"
"I just missed you," he grinned, "and I just remembered that our two weeks of alone time starts tomorrow," he looked down at his watch, "later today."
"Thank fuck," I sighed, I needed some time away from everyone, everyone but him.
We stood there for another minute and I kept thinking about what I wanted to do, because I wasn't going back to sleep anytime soon despite my exhaustion. I pondered it for a moment before the idea hit me, "okay, thank you so much for being amazing and helping me. I'm going to head out."
"Hold on, where are you going?" He inquired.
"I'm going to the training room, you should go back to bed," I wanted him to sleep more, I felt guilty for interrupting it (even if he had been awake when I came in).
"Natasha," his use of my full name always made me pause, it let me know he was serious, "please rest, you don't need anymore training time."
I didn't want to make him mad, but I needed to move my body, "I know," he was right, "I just want to try one thing and see if it helps."
"May I ask what?" He was already gearing up to protect me from my own destructive tendencies.
"In the dream, I was doing a ballet routine... I want to go do it and finish it," for some reason I thought it might help.
"Okay, let's go," he started to stand up slowly. I didn't react with a flinch this time, I just took a step back so he had the space to get up.
"'Let's'" I asked, "you can stay, I don't want to take more of your night."
"I wasn't asleep when you got here, and I'm not going back to bed now," he looked down at me.
"I'm sorry," I felt that guilt seeping back in from me disturbing him.
"Don't be, I'd just be sitting here staring at my ceiling if you hadn't come in," I doubted that, "honestly," he added.
The two of us walked down to the training room and I changed the security footage along the way. When Barton had used that old program I gave him earlier today it inspired me to revamp it so the process was a lot easier. I could do it in the span of a few seconds rather than a few minutes.
Steve P.O.V.
We entered the gym and didn't turn on the lights, but our eyes were still adjusted to the dark so we could see. I watched as she grabbed her pointe shoes from her locker and moved several pieces of equipment out of the way so she could use the mirror wall. I offered to help but she had been incredibly insistent that I was to sit in the corner and watch, and since she had been willing to let me come, I wouldn't interrupt. If she needed this to feel better, then it was what we would do.
"You can't judge me, I'm a bit out of practice," she stopped in the middle of the room now that everything was ready.
"No judgment, I don't know the first thing about ballet," I really didn't, but I knew enough about Natasha to know that it was probably going to be perfect anyways.
She closed her eyes and started with what I assumed were a few warm ups, and I remembered how much I loved watching her dance. She rarely did it in front of me, but whenever she did, she was incredibly skilled and it was gorgeous. I also knew that sometimes it brought her pain, and sometimes it brought her joy. I was keeping a close eye to make sure that this was helping her and not hurting her. I knew the history of her being taught to dance, it wasn't a joy, so I did have a feeling that this could end with her getting more upset. I was bracing and preparing to help her.
It also didn't slip my notice that her clothes were looser than they should have been. I wouldn't have been aware of how they fit if I wasn't so worried about her losing weight for her own health, not because I wanted her to look a certain way. She could look however she wanted, as long as she was healthy, I would be fine with it. Her body was crossing into a place where bones were just starting to show more than they should, her muscles covered it up well enough, but I knew what to look for. She had been fighting the disordered eating for a long time, this was about as bad as she had been when we started to date. I knew that Eating disorders ebbed and flowed in recovery, but it killed me to see all the progress she had made over the past year start to vanish.
I noticed that the warm up seemed to be done and she seemed to have started the actual phase of the dance. Her movements were so elegant, they looked so effortless that it made me think I could try. But I knew the reality, I knew how every muscle was taught and contracted, I knew that it burned to make it look so easy. Nat had put the music on a very soft volume, which matched the soft night. It was a sweet tune that matched the breezy movements she was making. I was hoping so badly that this was helping her heal and not hurting.
The movement was long, I noticed her legs and arms start to shake, her muscles fighting to keep up, but she kept at it. I was desperately fighting the urge to call this off, knowing it would piss her off. That was when I noticed the blood on her shoes, that hadn't been there before. I stood up fast, I hadn't seen the red stains start since the lights were off, there were little blood marks all over the floor.
"Nat, stop," I called. Her eyes were still closed, she didn't stop. She was in that trance state again, this was happening a lot lately, it was a sign of how stressed she was.
I walked closer to her, fully prepared that I was going to startle her, but she needed to rest,"Nat, you're done."
She didn't stop, so I did what I had done the last time she went into this trance. I grabbed her from behind and held her close, she fought me again, but it wasn't half as violent as last time. I was so worried that the lack of fight was from how weak she had become without food, but I just told myself that it was because of the dance. I needed to believe that for tonight, I would deal with this food stuff in the coming two weeks. One battle at a time.
"No, no," she was still pushing off from me, "it has to be perfect," she sounded dazed.
"It was, you looked perfect," I spoke right into her ear, not bothering to be quiet because she needed help to snap out of this.
"It has to be perfect," she repeated. She sounded afraid and desperate, I knew enough to know that if it wasn't perfect, she thought she was going to be punished. I was mentally kicking myself for thinking that letting her dance in this state of mind would end well.
"It was perfect, you did it Nat," I encouraged. She stopped fighting so much and went lax in my arms, "Nat?" I craned my neck to make sure she was still conscious.
"I'm good," she got her legs under her again but I didn't let go, not trusting her tired muscles to keep her upright at the moment. "Steve, I'm good," she repeated, but made no move to get away.
"Let's sit down," I began to walk her over to the wall so she could sit on the floor and lean against it. If she passed out, I didn't want her to hit her head.
"It needed to be perfect," she repeated, just letting me move her.
I didn't respond because there was nothing I could say, I got her sitting down and then an idea hit me.
I walked to the middle of the room, "okay, teach me," I smiled.
"What?" She cocked her head to the side, a little bit of life coming back to her. I mentally sighed with relief.
"If it needs to be perfect, I can do it for both of us. Teach me," I insisted.
She started to laugh, and it was the first genuine laugh I had heard since the Caribbean mission. It was the absolute most wonderful sound I had ever heard and I didn't think that fact would ever change. "Steve, you don't know anything about ballet," she shook her head. She started to get up but I put my hand out to get her to stop. She listened, which was a small miracle in itself.
"So start at the basics," I put my feet in some odd position that I thought I had seen her start with, "is this right?"
She giggled again, I would do anything to keep her smiling. "No, not even close," she dropped her head in embarrassment for me. "We'll start with the six positions, you remember when I tried to teach you those?"
"I remember you trying to teach me, I do not remember anything about where my feet should be besides the fact I didn't have the flexibility to do it."
"Oh Steve," she shook her head, "just come here," she patted next to her. I did so, but not without trying a few attempts at the moves I had seen her make on the way, she was laughing so hard she was holding her stomach by the time I reached her.
I sat down next to her carefully so I didn't spook her, and put my arm up so she could settle in, which she did. It felt amazing to have her in my arms again, it was where we belonged. I pulled her close and was happy it didn't cause her to jerk back, progress was being made.
"You want to go back to bed?" I needed her to sleep, maybe just so I could relax, but she needed it. I was also changing my plans for our two weeks alone to configure as much time for sleeping as she needed.
"I don't think I want to sleep, but I do want to lay down," she contemplated for a bit, just trying to listen to what her body wanted right now.
"Where?" I would help her get there because her leg muscles were still quivering from the dance.
She paused for a long time and I saw all the options flicker across her mind. With a pain in my heart I realized that she didn't feel safe anywhere in this tower right now.
"Um," she was stalling.
"Walk me through what you're thinking," I pushed.
She was silent for a bit, but I couldn't help if I didn't know. I moved myself a bit to push her ever so lightly, my hand still around her to keep her stable,"hey!" She laughed and pushed back.
"Come on Tash, tell me what you're thinking," I rarely called her Tash, mostly when we were messing with each other.
"Fine," her nose wrinkled just a bit as she gave in, it was adorable. "If I go to my room, Bruce knows where I am and he can just barge in," was option one, "or I go back to his room and he gets mad that I wake him up again, and I have to lay in there all night."
"Three, you come back to my room and actually get the sleep your body needs," I added.
"No, three is not an option, we already risked it this morning," she insisted, "and fuck, we need to clean up the mess I made."
"I've got that, you stay sitting," I stood up and went to get the mop.
"Steve, I'm not letting you clean up my blood again," she stood up and marched over to stop me, I only saw her because I was facing the mirror.
I was going to tell her to sit back down, but suddenly her eyes rolled back and her knees gave out. "Nat!" I was there in a second, cradling her head an inch before it hit the floor.
"Woah," she wasn't knocked out, "sorry, I didn't mean for that to happen."
I took a large breath of relief, "I know, it's not your fault," and it wasn't. This was all Bruce, he had her scared to eat and that was making her pass out like this. "How often are you fainting like this?" Normally I would know, but she had been backing away from me so much lately.
"Don't worry about it," she started to sit up and I supported her the full way.
"Nat, I'm going to worry about it," I answered like she was crazy, because she was crazy if she thought I was going to not worry about her.
"Can we just deal with it tomorrow?" Her voice suddenly sounded so tired, and I was reminded that I had also thought that tomorrow was a much better time to address this than in the middle of the night.
"Fine," I didn't love it, but it made sense. I scooped her up and put her back against the wall. She made a little fuss about it, but I didn't stop, she got the message that I wasn't letting her push herself and she stopped fighting it.
I started to clean while she just sat there. I hated not giving her a choice, but it was an issue of her safety right now. I knew that this was undoing so much progress we had made, giving her back autonomy was such a big goal for us, but I wouldn't let her hurt herself. I just couldn't do that.
When I was done, I came and sat back down next to her and made sure to keep some space between us, "I'm really sorry," I started, "I hate telling you what to do, but I can't have you getting hurt. I just can't."
She was quiet for a long time, long enough that I didn't think she would respond, "I know, and I'm trying really hard to understand and not be mad."
"It's okay, you can be mad at me," I didn't like that I had made her so upset, but I wasn't going to tell her not to feel her emotions.
"I don't want to be," she shook her head as if it would help change her mind, "I think I'm just mad at everything right now."
"Which you have every right to be," I affirmed, she was in a shit situation.
"Are you mad at me?" Her question was so innocent and she sounded so scared for the answer.
"I'm mad at Bruce, I'm not mad at you. He is basically blackmailing you into dating him and doing everything he says, it's disgusting," I let my rage slip the leash a bit and said more than I should have.
"I hate him," her eyes were staring far into space as she said it, "I hate him so much."
"We're going to get you through this, okay? And then everything can go back to how it was," I needed that to be true.
"What if it doesn't? What if I messed this all up too far to save?" Tears were starting to fall and I knew I shouldn't reach out to dab them away, I wanted to take her pain away so badly right now.
"First off, it is not you who messed anything up. Secondly, it might take a few months or a few years, but we're going to get back, we're never too far gone. I will always love you, that isn't going anywhere," I looked into her beautiful, green eyes and prayed so hard that she believed what I was saying.
"I love you, and that isn't changing either," her eyes lit up a bit.
"There's my girl," I grinned as she perked up. That little spark was back behind her eyes, even if it was a bit dull from how tired she was right now, I could see it.
She started to stand up, and I quickly put my hand out to support her, she leaned on it heavily. Her eyes were a bit out of focus for a few seconds when she stood, but she quickly recovered. "How can I ever repay you?"
"You don't need to, but a kiss would ne-"
She interrupted me with her lips crashing onto mine. I felt her legs start to shake since she was back on her tiptoes to reach me, so I reached around her and lifted her off the ground. Her legs were now wrapped around me, and I fucking loved the feel of that. She pulled back first, panting hard, "that a good enough kiss?"
"Perfect, Romanoff," I beamed. I walked towards the door with a quick check back to make sure there wasn't any blood left. "Now, where am I taking you to get some sleep?"
She contemplated for a bit, "my room?" She asked.
"Sounds good," I kept my smile up even though I was a tinge sad she wasn't coming back to bed with me. She rested her chin in the crook of my neck and slipped my phone out of my back pocket. I couldn't see the screen since she was typing behind me, but I knew she was working on the cameras.
"I need to make a program that scrubs this shit automatically, it's such a pain to keep having to do this," she explained.
"I thought you just made a program," I questioned.
"I made one that streamlines the process, I want one that does it automatically," she grumbled.
"I would help if I could, but I think we both know that wouldn't go well," and we both laughed. She put the phone back and then rested her head back down. The doors opened and I felt her go tense as she whirled around to make sure Bruce wasn't there, nearly taking me off balance in the process.
"Shit, we need to be more careful," she cursed, "go, go."
I ran quickly to her room despite the fact I was pretty sure Bruce wouldn't come out, but it was making Nat anxious so I would go faster if it helped. I entered the passwords on her door and entered. I then put her down and steadied her with a hand on both of her shoulders.
"I'm not carrying you to the bed because I'm pretty sure once you get in, you're not getting out," I explained and she raised an eyebrow at what I was getting at, "I want you to lock all of your locks, Bruce be damned."
"Steve," she started to back away just a fraction, "I-"
"I know, but you can't relax if you're afraid he's just going to barge in, and you need to relax," it was just a fact at this point.
"What if he goes Green?" She was so scared of it, and I was as well. I was scared she would get hurt, I knew she was scared about me getting hurt or the civilians.
"He won't," I insisted.
"You can't know that," she pushed.
"You're going to have to believe me," there just wasn't room to argue, she needed sleep.
"I'm only letting you win this because I am tired," and that just confirmed my point.
"Thank you," and I was so relieved she wasn't pushing back so hard, and maybe a bit nervous. "Here, let me get your shoes off," I knelt down and she braced her hands on my shoulders. The things were still wet with her blood and I hated that, but I took them off as carefully as I could, they were so tight. She was trying hard not to grimace, but I knew it hurt.
Once they were both off, I assessed her feet. They were covered in blood and bruised, but it would have to wait until morning. I so badly wanted to walk her to her bed and take care of the injuries. , but I was pretty sure she was starting to fall asleep while standing up at the moment.
"Alright, you go to bed and we'll deal with it tomorrow," I stood up slowly and kept an arm around her, "and I'm going to listen and make sure you actually lock the locks."
"Okay, mother hen," she chided and I just shook it off. I hated to leave her, but I knew it was best. I walked out the door and didn't take my eyes off her until the door was closed between us.
I heard the several locks all click into place.
"Happy now?" She mocked.
"Yes, very, now you can go to bed," I smiled despite the fact she couldn't see me.
I waited for a few seconds, "I'm good now, you can go to bed yourself."
I sighed with relief, "okay, goodnight," I called, wanting desperately to tell her I loved her, but we knew the risks.
"Thank you Steve, goodnight," she answered. I walked away and back to my own bed, I realized how tired I was from all my stress as I entered my own room. I didn't bother to move her pillows off the bed as I laid down on top of it all, I realized I missed her scent on my things. That was the last thought I remembered before I was fast asleep.