Mmmmm. Mmm. Mmm.
The noise penetrated the dreamless sleep. Someone was humming.
Mm. Mmmmm. Mmm.
I opened my eyes a couple of times, everything was blurry but I saw blue shapes. And horizontal blinds.
My mouth was dry. I felt something pinching my finger on my right hand. And my head really, really hurt.
"Ow", I croaked and lifted my arm to touch my forehead but it was attached to some tubing. I was on a drip.
And there was a giant clip on my finger. I looked at my hand confused. In the background I could make out a shape sitting next to where I was laying. My eyes tried to focus on who it was.
"Hey", the shape spoke.
"Sam?" I croaked.
"It's me", he replied, congenially.
"Where am I?"
"The hospital", he jumped out of his chair when he saw me trying to tug off the offending clip. "Whoa, whoa, leave that on". He repositioned it on my finger.
"It pinches", I complained.
"I'll call a nurse". He leaned over and pressed the call button above my head.
"Where's Bucky?" I asked. My heart sank to see he wasn't in the room with me. I wanted him.
"With Steve. He had to take a walk", Sam said seriously as he sat back down in the chair beside my bed. He reached out and squeezed my hand reassuringly. "Man, I've spent a lot of time sitting next to unconscious people in this hospital". He remarked.
"Thank you", I squeezed my friends hand back tightly.
The nurse came into the room and smiled warmly at me.
"Good morning, Miss King. How are you feeling?" She asked me. Her name tag read Claire.
"Sore, thirsty. Water?" I asked. Claire, smiled again but shook her head sadly.
"I'm afraid your nil by mouth, that's why you're on a glucose drip".
"Am I ok? When can I go home?" I asked anxiously, my voice rasped.
"You should try and rest your voice. The doctor will be in to see you shortly. You've been here since early evening yesterday. You have concussion, external bruising to your neck, the CT scan didn't show any laryngeal fractures but the Doctor decided to keep you nil by mouth. You have abdominal bruising but luckily no internal bleeding. You have bruising and swelling around your eyes but no broken nose. All things considered you've been lucky Miss King."
Lucky. I guess I was. I was still breathing. I thought about Martha lifeless body and my stomach lurched in horror. It was all my fault. I was responsible for her death, I may not have pulled the trigger but her blood was on my hands. I closed my eyes and suddenly I was in my lab again, Rollin's arm around my neck and then I felt the gun go off in my hand. His blood all over me. I held my palms out in front of me, they had been cleaned. I had killed him, taken his life. Everything that he had done, everything he would have done, I ended it when I pulled the trigger. I took a life. The guilt began to overwhelm me. The Doctor walked through the doors and pulled me back into the room; I tried to bury the rising panic inside and attempted to focus as he showed me my CT scan results, told me I shouldn't talk, to rest my voice. He told me I wouldn't be discharged any time soon. When I brought up insurance I was told my employer was footing the bill and not to worry. He told me the pulse oximeter was definitely staying on my finger but I'd be taken off the drip and was allowed a sip of water. Claire carefully propped me up in the bed with pillows and passed me a plastic beaker of water. It hurt to swallow initially but the cool water was so soothing as it passed down my throat. The doctor and nurse satisfied I was feeling a little better left the room and I let my tears fall silently with Sam as their only witness. He leaned forward and gently squeezed my shoulder. I wanted Bucky. Where was he?
"Do you need me to call your parents?" Sam asked. I shook my head. "Not even your mom?" I got upset again. Of course I wanted my mom. But I didn't want her to worry, which she would. She didn't have a clue about this. About what I did. "You don't want to explain to her right?" I nodded again. "I understand".
"How's the patient?" Steve's warm, congenial voice filled the room, I looked up to see him filling the doorway with his large reassuring frame, he was holding a balloon. I smiled and raised my hand. He stepped inside and behind him Bucky hovered, sheepishly.
"Bucky", I croaked, desperately trying not to cry. He looked up and the pain and guilt that was written all over his face broke my heart. He didn't reply, he couldn't even look me in the eyes. Bucky leant against the wall, his arms folded and looked at the floor. The room was awkwardly silent for a moment and then Steve stepped towards me.
"This is from Natasha", Steve dropped the balloon weight by the bed and I watched as the metallic oval rose to the ceiling; Get Well Soon it read. "She's proud of you. We all are".
"How...", I swallowed and grimaced. "How's Dr Baker and Sammy?" I asked, my eyes were wide in worry.
"They're fine. They're with their families. Thanks to you", Steve replied.
"No. Martha, she's dead because of me", I croaked tearfully.
"That isn't on you, that's all Rollins", he assured me.
"I didn't mean to kill him. Oh God. I didn't mean to. I can't...I can't. Oh God" I choked out and began to sob.
"You didn't", Bucky said and stepped towards the bed. "You didn't kill him".
"I did", I protested, trying to ignore the pain every time I spoke.
"No. You didn't", Bucky reaffirmed earnestly.
"I don't understand...I..."
"She isn't supposed to be talking man, this isn't helping", Sam interrupted me and shot Bucky a concerned look.
"She doesn't need to talk. She just needs to listen". Bucky stood at the foot of my bed and for the first time since he entered the room, our eyes met. "You didn't kill Rollins. When I got to the lab, he was alive. He'd pulled himself up and was propped up against the wall. He was holding his throat together with his hand. I looked right into his eyes and I shot him in the head. I killed Rollins, Lucy, you didn't do that. You didn't kill anyone".
"You promise me?" I asked breathless.
"I promise", he replied. And I believed him.
I closed my eyes and tried to compose myself. But I felt the awful heaviness that had been inside of me dissipate. I felt, relieved. It was stupid because Rollins was a despicable man; he'd threatened to destroy Bucky and he'd tried to kill me. When I shot him I had been trying to defend myself from him. No one would have blamed me, no one would have cared that I had taken his life. But I don't know if I could have coped with that.
"Ahem", Steve coughed and I opened my eyes. I saw Steve making a face to Sam. He looked back confused and then it was like a light had been turned on.
"We have to go, Steve and I...we have that thing we have to go to", Sam said and rose from the chair by my bed.
"Yes that thing", Steve clarified and then patted my hand on the bed. "See you later Lucy".
"Later Lucy", Sam dropped me an affectionate kiss on the forehead and followed Steve out of the room.
Bucky and I were alone.