So, I probably should be sleeping, but I did this instead.
NESAANCALIME6913: Maybe...maybe not.
chibichibi98: Yeah, that about covers it.
hateme101: Yeah, that would be ugly.
Hails: Yeah, I was talking about that. And yeah, I'll get to Civil War eventually, and of course some things will change, but other things will stay. But I'm not telling what's staying and what's not! And I still can't read your email address. Stupid FF and their rules. You can always email me. It won't freak me out if I get a random email from a person I don't know.
Tiphanie: You will find out in this chapter. And it's not midnight yet so you can't glue my hand to my face.
Guest: Well...all I can say is you'll see.
Cassouminette: Kind of all three, I guess? When I get stressed, or go through something traumatic or painful my first reaction is to vomit. It's just my body saying something's not right. Something's not normal. So I guess you could say she's the same way. My body just can't handle stress of any kind normally.
Akatsuki Cherry Angel: Aww thanks hon! I'll keep that in mind!
DarylDixon'sLover: Yeah, I wish I had a Bucky to take care of me.
Lesliezin: You will find out in this chapter.
Crystal-Wolf-Guardian-967: I try to update at least once a day. Sometimes it's more, and once I didn't update at all because of stuff.
dragtully: ...well unfortunately I can't private message all of my readers since some prefer to remain anonymous, or just don't have accounts. And when did I spoil the story?
Enjoy!
The first thing Olivia did when she woke up was vomit. Her fever had broken two nights ago, and both her and James had woken up covered in sweat. James was glad, knowing it was one less thing to worry about. But his panic had flared when he woke to her running to the bathroom that morning. Maybe it was just the sickness wearing off. She still wasn't at one hundred percent. Maybe it was just that. But he couldn't help the worried thoughts as he held her hair back away from her face as she puked into the toilet. He remembered when his 'Ma had been pregnant. They'd only had one bathroom, and he always woke up to her puking in the morning. He had gotten worried then. Worried she was sick, like Steve. He was scared. Scared he'd lose his 'Ma.
Like he was scared now.
"Olivia." He said as he sat her back down on the bed. "We need to talk about something very important."
She gulped audibly. "Yes?" Her voice was weak, a cough escaping her.
He sighed, fingering the tests in his backpack. "I took you to see a private doctor after you came back. And...with everything that happened to you," He swallowed the lump in his throat as he saw the tears in her eyes. "He thought it best if you take a pregnancy test to make sure you're not pregnant."
"P-p...I...oh god." She covered her mouth, a couple tears falling down her cheeks.
She snatched the test from his hand so fast he almost missed it, and locked herself in the bathroom. He could hear her sniffles as she took the test, emotions welling up in him. Fear, nervous energy, anger, sympathy. It was all too much. He fingered the tear in the couch, thinking back to how it got there.
48 HOURS EARLIER
It was the first time Olivia had come out of her fever induced delirium. He had heard her shift, just barely having time to move as the knife came down where he was sitting on the couch. It tore through the fabric, and he grabbed her wrist, leaving it suspended there as he pushed her to the ground. She punched at him, kicked, tried to get away.
"No. No!" She screamed as he grabbed her wrists, pinning them together in his flesh hand, as his knees held him up over her.
"Olivia!" He shouted, trying to get her to look at him as she struggled. "Olivia, it's James."
"Please." She sobbed out, pathetic whimpers leaving her lips.
"It's Bucky. It's your Bucky."
She calmed down a little, her eyes meeting his as whatever daze cleared. "Bucky?" She whispered, a small frown forming on her features.
"Hi, doll." He said, releasing her wrists.
He moved so she could sit up, watching as she scanned the apartment. "I…" She inhaled shakily as she spotted the knife still embedded in the couch. "I didn't...oh god."
He pulled her into his chest, sitting back so she was in his lap, his back against the couch. He reached back, pulling the knife out before sliding it under the couch. She cried against his shoulder and he held her. He had expected this to happen. For her to lose herself when she woke up. She hadn't exactly had a clear mind over the past few weeks. Between the drugs, and the fever it was a miracle she was even up now. Her fever had broken that morning when she was asleep, but he hadn't expected her to snap back this fast.
The sobs turned into coughs that wracked her whole body. He rubbed her back as she curled against him, taking in his warmth.
"You okay, doll?" He asked, kissing the back of her head as her coughs quieted.
"I'm sorry." She whispered. "I didn't-"
"Shh." He shushed her. "Don't. I know what it's like to wake up and not remember where you are. To still be in the throes of a nightmare. Just be glad I have fast reflexes." He stood up, placing her back on the bed. "Just take it easy, okay? You're still pretty sick."
"What...happened?" She hesitated, her hand gripping his arm.
"We'll talk about it when you're better. Right now you should sleep."
PRESENT
He sat on the couch for what felt like an eternity. Time seemed to drag as he waited for the verdict from the first test. He'd make her take another in a few days to make sure. It had been weeks, but he was foggy on how soon a test would tell. The doctor had said, but most of what the doctor had said is fuzzy in his brain.
The bathroom door opened and she came out, the test in her shaking hands. He held his breath, his stomach painfully knotted.
"Negative." She said as she handed him the test.
He didn't care that she'd peed on it, he took it from her anyways as she sat next to him. He needed to see it to believe it. And it took him a moment as he stared at the single line. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, cupping the side of her head, bringing her into his side. He pressed his lips to the side of her head, breathing her in for a moment. She smelled faintly of sweat, but he didn't care. He was relieved.
"You gonna tell me what happened now?" She asked, still tucked into his side.
"You were injured and upset, and I just let you walk away from me." He shook his head. "I should have followed you, something. But I didn't. You were gone for five days, before you showed up back here. You were high as a kite, bloody and cut up. You had a bullet wound on your leg, and so many splinters in your feet I lost count. You were half naked and freezing cold. I cleaned you up. And from what I heard they kidnapped you from the side of the road, tied you up, drugged you, raped you, sold you. They stitched up your head wound though. And...you told me you killed them."
She was silent for a moment, still tucked against his chest. "I did." Her words were quiet, but he could hear them loud and clear. "I stabbed them. All three. I...I don't know how...I saw the knife and...I thought of you. It just...happened. Oh god. I...I killed them…"
"Hey." He said, holding her shoulders so they were looking each other in the eye. "It's okay. You acted in self defense." You didn't have a choice. You acted in self defense. You weren't exactly yourself either." He leaned forward, kissing her forehead. "Just try to remember that."
He held her close, relief filling him as he thought about the disaster that had possibly been avoided. A disaster for both of them. Not that he would think that if it were a different situation. He had thought about their future. He knew they wouldn't be here forever. But, there was the glimmering hope that they could be free one day. They could live where they wanted without fear of being hunted down. Being caught and tortured, and possibly killed. He had thought of them together, in a house in the countryside. He'd be doing repairs on the house while she was in the kitchen, working on lunch. He'd kiss her sweetly, placing his flesh hand on her swollen belly, where their child was growing. He knew it would never happen, but he could dream. He could hope.