There's more feels in this than I had planned.
Farbeyondthegrave: Yeah, I kinda did too. But then someone suggested that and I couldn't not do it.
Tiphanie: He definitely knows. I touch on it (okay, I poke it with a giant stick) in this chapter. There's a lot of feels in this one. I know I said it was going to get dark, but I can't just make it all dark. I had to throw happiness in there so I could tear it down again and make it seem more horrible than if it was all dark and morbid. Wow I am evil...
Enjoy!
I was being touched. Hands everywhere, invading my privacy as I tried to get away, but they were coming from every angle. I screamed, begged for help as they slowly suffocated me. But one hand reached out and grabbed me, pulling me from the rest, lifting me above the mass of darkness below me.
I jerked awake, a cold metal hand on my shoulder. I jumped away from James, squishing myself as far back on the couch as I could. He lowered his hand, standing up.
"There's warm water in the bathroom. Clean yourself up." He said, before going to the corner where his bag was sitting.
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes before stumbling half-drunkenly to the bathroom. There was a pot of water sitting on the counter below the dirty mirror. My face was bruised on the left side, and around my nose where it had been broken. There was in fact a hand print around my neck from where James had nearly choked me to death in the woods, and a mark across my chest where he'd held me against the tree. There was a round bruise on my stomach from where my almost rapist had held me down. My shirt had blood on it, and my jeans were stained with vomit. I'd need to get new clothes soon. We both would.
I wiped the blood from my face before giving myself a sponge bath, taking time to wash my hair, get the vomit off the ends. I felt slightly better, but my skin was still crawling from where I'd been touched. I felt degraded again, everything Rumlow had done, everything he'd said came back to me. He really did break me. I was so broken I was forgetting what it felt like to be normal. I have forgotten what it feels like to be normal.
I left the bathroom numb. This is what my life is now. On the run with an assassin that wants to kill me half the time, and ends up killing for me the other half. I sighed, grabbing clean clothes from my backpack before changing right there. It didn't matter if he saw anything. It wasn't like he hadn't seen it before. I curled back up on the couch, staring at the stained ceiling. I was tired, but my mind was reeling. There were more of them out there, looking for us. Hell, they were probably in every country, and they knew we were in Hungary. I just hoped we could outrun them before they found us again.
James was having just as hard a time as she was. She was silently walking behind him, keeping pace fairly well. But a storm was still brewing inside him. He had a hard time believing that she could possibly be HYDRA. After what they'd put her through, he doubted it was true.
He found an abandoned restaurant for them to stay in for the night. He needed to stock up on some supplies he knew they'd need for the next few days. He told her to stay in the restaurant, before heading out, hoping she was safe there. He was halfway done shopping when the two men in black entered the store. He was the only other person inside besides the employees, and by the looks of them, they were trying to corner him. His hand gripped the gun tucked under his jacket, ready to attack when they did. Maybe he was right. Maybe she did rat him out.
He didn't want to kill the men, successfully knocking them out before fleeing the store. He ran back to the restaurant, ready to kill Olivia himself until he saw movement inside. He ducked down under the window, watching as one man scouted the entrance. He could hear a second man talking, something about behaving or he'd kill. The word feisty had his blood boiling and he waited for the right moment before slipping in the door, taking out the first man easily. He snuck to the back, watching as the other man had Olivia pinned, covering her mouth with one hand, the other shoved down her pants.
Rage he hadn't felt in a long time burned in him and he moved in the shadows, watching as the second man noticed his partner was gone, jumping on him right as he tried to shoot Olivia. The rage burned hot and he threw the man against the wall, raising the gun before firing, shooting the sick bastard in the head.
Olivia was wide eyed when he turned back around, shaking and bleeding, but he didn't have time for that.
"Get up. There's more coming." He said, gathering their things.
He knew Olivia probably wouldn't move so he did it for her, tugging her sweatshirt on before dragging her from the restaurant. She was dead weight, barely moving on her own as he kept her head down, making sure no one saw them.
He took the first car he found, wanting to get out as quickly as possible. Olivia was barely breathing, trembling in her seat as she bled down her shirt. She would pass out if she didn't breathe so he shoved her head between her knees to try and calm her down. He kept his hand on her head, knowing if she sat up it wouldn't be pretty.
"Who were they?" Her voice was slightly slurred as she gripped the passenger seat tightly.
"Hitmen." He said. "They must have seen us when we got into town. They went after me at the store."
He wanted to blame it on her. He really did, but he knew she wouldn't go that far. Having him attacked was one thing, but he knew there was no acting there. It was real terror on her face, she really had been fighting the man, trying to keep herself from being raped again. And now he knew she was innocent in the whole thing. He still didn't understand how she knew the words, or why she would dream of them like she claimed. That made him uneasy, but he couldn't quite stay as mad at her. She'd been through hell, and she still wasn't getting a break when she tried to escape it.
"Why did you save me?" She asked, her voice muffled.
He didn't answer. The rage he'd felt when he saw what the man was doing to her, was going to do to her confused him. He'd so willingly shot a man in the head for her. He could have just knocked him out, then run, but he'd been touching her. He was trying to rape her. That made him no better than HYDRA. Even no better than James himself.
The smell of vomit hit him as she emptied her stomach on the floor. He should have seen that one coming, and he moved his hand, gripping the steering wheel tightly. She hadn't had much to eat, so there wasn't much to the vomit, but that didn't mean it didn't smell bad. He cracked a window, trying to get some fresh air in, in case the smell made her vomit again. He'd passed a road sign, telling her they weren't far from the next town. They'd have to stay there for the night, leave early to try and get to Romania quickly. It would take them another day to get to Romania, and if they were successful in their journey and went uninterrupted, they'd be in Bucharest in another day. Olivia didn't look well, and he hated making her travel, but they were so close, he didn't want to stop now.
He found an abandoned apartment building, leaving Olivia in the car while he scanned the building, deeming it safe enough. She was puking on the street when he came back out, so he left her there, grabbing their stuff before dragging her inside. She stumbled into the room as he locked and secured the door. She'd fallen onto the couch, passing right out as he set up their camp for a moment. He needed to go to the store and get some supplies, so he left her there, unconscious. He was a little wary, but he needed to do it.
The car smelled worse than it did before, something he'd need to take care of soon. He got the supplies they'd need, as well as a bag of ice, knowing she'd be sore from the punch she'd received. That, and he didn't really feel like listening to her complain. He drove back, hiding the car before entering the building. It was warm in the city, something rather unusual for him. The only thing he ever felt was cold. He remembered being warm, but it had been a long time since he felt it. He would have liked to stay outside, but he had someone to take care of inside.
He assessed her injuries while she was out, knowing she probably wouldn't let him get that close to her when she was awake. Not in the state she was in. He stripped out of his jacket, pulling an old shirt from his backpack and the toilet paper. He'd need to reset her nose. That was the biggest injury he could see. He tore the shirt, slapping her cheeks lightly to try and wake her up.
She was groggy as he shoved the strip of his shirt in her mouth before resetting her nose with a crack. She screamed around the gag, definitely awake now. Blood dripped out of her reset nose, and he shoved toilet paper up her nostrils to try and stop it. He turned and grabbed the makeshift icepack from where he'd set it beside him on the floor.
"Ice? When did he get that?" She murmured, still slightly out of it.
"While you were asleep." He said. She didn't say anything more as he made sure she was comfortable. "We'll be safe here tonight. Stay here and don't move. I have to go clean out the car."
He used a hose and a jug of water to clean the vomit from the passenger side. He left the windows down so it could air out that night, and be ready the next morning. They'd leave early, and hopefully get across the border by the end of the day. He'd carry her if he had to, he was so anxious to get somewhere safe.
Safe. He hadn't felt that in a long time. It was strange. He remembered things from a long time ago, but they felt like they happened recently. His brain was muddled, pieces, chunks missing from his memory. It hurt him, sometimes, trying to think back. His brain would ache from the strain of trying to reach lost memories. Then his arm would hurt and he'd give up. He missed Olivia's constant need to talk. Sure, it got on his nerves, but it distracted him when he got like that. She'd been fairly quiet over the past few days, a lot of that his fault, and also hers for getting sick, but he missed having that small distraction. The kid was curious, asked a lot of questions and it kept him from going insane.
He had thought about leaving her, she was safe here, she could get by on her own. She was smart. But as he watched her toss and turn on the couch while he waited for the water in the pot to boil, in the throes of a nightmare, face bruised, brow furrowed, he couldn't. He couldn't walk away. He needed her, even though he didn't want to admit it. She was a reminder that he was human. That he wasn't all programmed inside to follow orders. That he could take care of someone. Sure, he'd done a crappy job at it, but they were alive, mostly. He couldn't just walk away from her. She deserved better than that. For all he knew she'd just follow him. She knew where he was going, and she'd wind up there too. She was a headstrong little thing, and he realized he wouldn't trade her for anything at that moment, as he squatted down beside her to wake her so she could clean herself up.