You woke up with a start. It didn't take long for you to realize the reason why. Blinding pain radiated from your stomach and you felt like you were going to throw up right there. It was some time before you could muster the courage to move - and even so, the pain made it nearly impossible to reach the light by your bed. Tears were clouding your vision but you managed to flip the switch and cry out as you dropped your arm back at your side.

At least with the light on you could see what was happening.

You slid your hand down to wrap around the cold, hard metal. Attempting to interlace your fingers through it only made the pain worse. You hissed under your breath. This time was different somehow. Somehow.

He usually woke up. He usually snapped back to reality in a focused sweat. But not this time.

This time you felt his body pressed violently against yours, with that metal arm snaked around you, crushing you with unmatched force. A broken rib for sure, among other damage.

"James-" you gasped. Hoping that the use of his name would help the situation. Nothing.

Then another idea came to you. You turned your head, "Sputnik!" and waited the result with baited breath. His breathing slowed, but the grip was everlasting. Apparently he had to be conscious for the forbidden word to be effective.

This left you with no other option as you could feel your consciousness slipping away along with the sharpness of the pain. You cried out again as you reached for your handgun located in the hidden compartment of the bedside table.

"I'm so sorry Bucky."

You covered your other ear with your hand and pulled the trigger.