From Darkness

We ate in silence. Dana and I both refused to leave Ivan on his own. So Bucky brought us food and then went to eat with the old woman. He only came back to retrieve our plates and then left us alone again. He spent the rest of the day helping with chores. Dana brought another chair into the room so Ivan could keep the bed to himself.

He woke up just after sundown. I had my eyes shut and my hands under my chin as I tried to stay awake. I heard the bed creak, and then he groaned.

"Water," his voice croaked. Dana and I both jumped toward the bed, but she was closer to the water her mother set out. So I helped him sit up while she helped him drink. He gulped down half a glass before dropping his head on the pillows again.

"I feel like hell," he said. Then he opened his eyes and looked at me.

"You look like hell," I agreed. "How do you feel? Other than feeling like hell."

"Like you stabbed me with a hot poker."

"Were you awake for any of it?"

"Bits and pieces."

"How do you feel now that you're an official opium user?" He smiled lazily.

"That was the best part," he admitted.

"That's what I thought, but don't even think about asking for more."

"Damn." I patted his head to see if he was still hot. He was, but at least he was conscious and actually making sense.

"Do you mind if I check?"

"Mm."

I pulled the blankets down to expose the entry wound. The swelling had gone down, but he was still red and burning up. I looked over him at where Dana was standing, twisting her fingers.

"You mind getting the light?"

She nodded nervously and turned it on. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust. Then I focused on the odd discoloration of splotches running up his chest like marks in a horror movie. He didn't seem the least bit bothered by them, but Dana covered her mouth with her hands. I pulled the blanket back up and tried to remain calm, so I didn't make them panic. I patted him on the side of the head.

"We're going to have to take you to a hospital," I told him.

"I'll be fine," he mumbled.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice."

"Nearest hospital is pretty far, Kid."

"Then I hope you're ready for the trip because you're going, and you don't get to argue." I nodded to Dana, and she got right to work. She disappeared out of the door to find her mom and get ready.

"If we go to a hospital, they're going to find me," he said. "Which will make it easier for them to find you."

"Bucky and I will run. We'll stay hidden. I just need to know you're okay first. He won't let anything happen to me."

"Stark will find you."

"I'll be fine. Let me take care of you for once, alright?" He reached out, slapping his hands against the mattress as if he was looking for something, but he didn't open his eyes. So I moved my hand for him to grip in his big fist.

"Sepsis?" he asked. I bit my lip and nodded. He still didn't open his eyes.

"Yeah," I replied. He took a shaky breath and let it go.

"Then it's already too late. Hospital won't be able to do anything."

"Don't say that. You know it's not too late."

"I'm not trying to be pessimistic. Just realistic. The chances are low, and there's no point in risking everyone's lives over it. I'd rather die here in a bed with you by my side than in the back of a truck or a sterile hospital bed."

"Well, you're making sense. So that's a good sign. And frankly, I'm not going to let you die. And since you're not going to die, you don't get to decide. Sorry."

I got up to get him more water, mostly just to distract myself from the emotions that were bubbling up from the darkness. I poured the glass with shaky hands and helped him take a few more sips. He didn't speak until I set it back down on the table. Then he reached out his hand again.

"I just want you to know something," he said.

"Don't. Don't do that, please?" I replied.

"You were born on the side of the highway on the way to Cleveland," he told me anyway. "I was the one who delivered you. Beata held you in her arms while I drove. We picked up on the tail, and she made the decision to run and draw them away from you. She promised to meet up with me, but I knew she'd never make it back. As soon as I stopped the truck, she slid you into my arms. You were wrapped up in one of my old t-shirts. Bon-Jovi, if I'm not mistaken. I remember it because it was my favorite shirt. I considered naming you Jovi too." He laughed. "I was still planning on calling you 'Jo' for short. But anyway—you were all sticky with blood, squawking like a little bird. The tiniest thing I'd ever seen in my life." I bit my lip and turned away, but I let him keep my hand. I was trying not to cry, and he was making it very difficult.

"I tried to tell her where to meet me after I got you to safety, but she wasn't listening. Hopped right out of the truck, still bleeding, obviously in pain. Yanked her wedding ring off and stuck it in my hand. I knew right then and there that I'd never see her again. I tried to stop her, but she made me promise to look out for you. I knew why she was really giving it to me. Not so I'd have something of hers. But so you would. When you were old enough."

He moved his other hand and motioned toward the nightstand on the other side.

"It was the only thing of hers I kept with me when she was gone. Sent everything else here so Dana and her parents could have it. Keep things safe for you. But I kept her ring. I had Dana stick them both in the drawer. They're yours."

"They're not mine. Please don't do this," I argued.

"Damn it, Jo. Just take the rings. It'll make me feel better."

He knew he'd win with that line. So I sighed and went to the other table, still stained with his blood. I pulled the drawer out, and among the collected junk was a gold chain with two gold rings. I took them out and held them in my fist. He'd turned his head to watch me again, barely seeing through heavy eyelids.

"There," he said. "I feel better already." I sat down beside him, twisting the chain around my knuckles. I couldn't bring myself to put it around my neck and make it official. I certainly couldn't look at them.

"This is all my fault," I whispered. He dropped his hand on my arm, giving me a few reassuring pats.

"Please—please don't blame yourself for this. This was Hydra. Always Hydra."

"I pulled the trigger."

"By accident."

"That doesn't make it feel any better."

"No—it won't—but it's the truth. Hydra did this to me. By altering your state of mind. This wasn't you. I know that. And I can't let you blame yourself for this for the rest of your life." I sniffed.

"I'm sorry that you didn't get to be my dad." I just wanted to make sure I still had the chance to say it. I was determined to fix him, but I needed to get the words out just in case I failed.

And I meant them. I loved my dad. Even more so now that I knew the truth. That he'd taken in his wife's niece and raised her as his own. He loved her and treated her as equally as his own daughter. Never let her believe she was anything less. And the danger he'd put his family through just to protect that little girl. Ivan said he was hard on me because he was trying to protect me. Not because he didn't love me. Not because I wasn't enough. But because he'd loved me so much, he was willing to do anything to keep Hydra away from me.

But that didn't mean I wasn't sorry that Ivan couldn't be my dad. He'd lost everything when Beata climbed out of the car that day. Not just his wife, but his daughter too. And I imagined how hard it must have been for him to hand me over to his sister, knowing he'd never get to be part of my life.

"Me too," he said quietly. "It was the hardest decision I ever made. But—at least I got to be—for a little while."

He didn't seem capable of staying awake for very long. He shut his eyes again and sighed heavily. He was still conscious, but I didn't know how long it would last or if he'd be coherent enough to hold a conversation again. I didn't want to do this. I wasn't ready to let go. But I knew I'd never forgive myself if this was our last conversation, and he never got to hear those words. So I squeezed the rings in one hand and gently patted his face with the other.

"I love you, Dad," I said. He smiled, but his eyes didn't open.

"I love you too, Kid."

I sat back and waited for him to fall asleep, but I kept my eyes on his chest just to make sure he was breathing. He'd been talking and coherent, and that gave me hope, but his chest was still covered in angry red marks. His organs were going to start failing if they weren't already irreparably damaged, and I wasn't sure how long it would take before he succumbed. I just had to hope we could get to a hospital quickly enough to save his life.

I could hear Dana and the others moving around the house. But Ivan wasn't asleep yet. He reached out to squeeze my hand one more time with a sudden burst of renewed energy as if he'd been desperately scraping for one last thing to say to me.

"Don't make the same mistakes I did," he whispered. "Guilt will kill you. You have your whole life ahead of you. Don't let go of the people you love. Even if you think you're doing it to protect them. You'll regret it. I know that better than anyone."

I wasn't sure how to respond. And by the time I came up with something, he was already asleep.