From Darkness

I managed to make it all the way to the apartment without much trouble. My nose had started bleeding on the run, but it hadn’t been enough to knock me out. Not like before. I wondered if it was because the man had been no real threat to me—just Bucky. I raced up the stairs before Elena could stop me and ask what was going on. I knew I’d probably never see her again, and I didn’t have enough time for goodbyes or explanations. I just had to get our bags and get out of there as quickly as possible.

I was soaking wet when I lurched in through the front door. I tracked water all over the floor as I scrambled for my backpack and the few things I’d left lying out, like the pictures of Bernie and the silver cigarette case. I shoved them into the backpack and went to the kitchen to get the bag Bucky kept stored under the floorboards. But he was already standing in the doorway, dripping water into a puddle at his feet.

“Bucky?” I asked, but my voice was shaking, and I was pretty sure I wasn’t talking to Bucky anymore. He took a step forward. I took a step back. “Is everything okay?” I tried, testing and hoping that something could get through to him.

He stepped forward again. I took another step back. I still had my knives, but I didn’t want to use them. I knew I was a far worse threat to him than he was to me, but I still wanted to avoid drawing blood if I could help it.

“Baby,” I said as he continued forward. “It’s me. It’s Jo. Please—don’t hurt me. You don’t want to hurt me. I know you don’t.”

He paused, only for a second, and something flashed in his eyes. Though I couldn’t tell if it was recognition or something else. His head cocked to the side, but it was clear he wasn’t my Bucky. It was the Soldier. And even though he still sometimes haunted my nightmares, I never thought I’d have to see him again. I gently set the backpack on the floor and lifted my hands in surrender.

“Your name is James Barnes,” I tried. “I know you don’t want to do this. There’s someone inside you telling you not to. You need to listen to that voice. Please?”

He jerked forward and reached for me. I reacted on instinct and brought my knee up to slam into his stomach. It only threw him off momentarily. I tried to run for the door, but he yanked me back by my jacket and flung me into the wall. I groaned as I recovered and tried to swing my elbows when he went for me again, but it did nothing. Despite all the training we’d done in the woods, it just wasn’t enough. That was always his biggest complaint. His biggest fear. If I couldn’t beat him, how could I protect myself from him?

He grabbed me by the throat and pinned me to the wall. His metal fingers flexed around my neck, and I pulled against his hand. He could kill me in an instant. But he was holding back. Not because he wanted to. But because they needed me to fight back.

“Bucky,” I choked out. “Baby? Please?” He pinched harder, lifting me off the floor so my feet were dangling and I couldn’t breathe or speak anymore.

I wasn’t going to fight back. Not the way they really wanted me to. I knew Bucky would hate himself when he finally broke free and realized what he’d done. It would crush him. He always told me it was his worst fear, and I never wanted it to happen. But I was selfish, and my worst fear was that I’d kill him with the monster Beata put in my blood. I’d never be able to live with myself either. And I wasn’t willing to trade his life for mine.

I didn’t have a choice.

I could feel it bubbling in my chest. I hadn’t felt it the first few times. It happened so quickly and unexpectedly that I didn’t notice the signs. The bubble of heat that started near my heart and the way it burned through my body like fire in my veins. I could feel it seeping through my arms, reaching for him. I was running out of oxygen, but I struggled harder anyway. I didn’t want to kill him. He was wrong when he said it was my choice. The Chaos or Darkness or whatever it was—its goal was always to protect its host. Even from the person it loved the most.

I could see it creeping through my blood like lines of black as it moved for the fingers I still had wrapped around his wrist. My skin looked like it was cracking and opening, letting the darkness seep out of me. I couldn’t make a sound. I couldn’t scream or beg him to stop. I couldn’t even beg myself to stop.

It was too late. I saw it the moment it hit. The slight change in his expression when he felt it. Immediately followed by the drip of black blood from his nose.

He staggered and released me. I dropped to the floor, choking and desperately trying to breathe. He stepped back and stumbled. His hand moved to his nose, examining the flood of black, infected blood. Then he looked back at me and blinked a few times.

“Jo?” he said.

He dropped. Hard. His knees hit the floor hard enough to shake the wall behind me. I could see him lose focus. The Darkness was killing his brain. I could barely speak through the pain in my throat. My eyes were wet with tears, and I still couldn’t breathe right. I jumped forward and took his face in my hands.

“I’m sorry,” I tried to say through my swollen throat and the sob that cut me off. “I’m so sorry.”

His eyes unfocused, and he slid forward. I wrapped my arms around him and dropped back against the wall. His arms flopped lazily at my sides. I held onto his head and cried. I couldn’t bring myself to check and see if his heart was still beating. I couldn’t see the blood on his face, knowing it was my fault. I just held him and sobbed and begged for it to stop. To come back to me and let him go now that the threat was lifted. He couldn’t hurt me now. He didn’t deserve to die.

The heat started in the tips of my fingers this time and worked its way back down my arms until it settled in my chest. He choked a breath and twitched but didn’t move. He was still warm. I could feel him breathing, slow and shallow, but breathing. I held him against me and prayed.

But the Darkness always took me too. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t hold on. And then it swallowed me whole.