Baby Barton

Chapter 77 Bucky Barnes

"Fuck!" You wake up drenched in sweat, heart beating rapidly inside your chest you gasp for breath. The faceless images of countless victims becoming clearer with each nightmare. Each one etching itself in your memory.
Cowering on the floor you fumble around in the darkness for a blanket to wipe away the precipitation that runs all over your body.
Chloe is on day 2, you try to remember what she said to expect.

She sat convulsing on the floor, she was so angry...defeated. All because of you. Her ragged breathing as she tried to force herself through the searing pain of withdrawal. Wincing as though every nerve had been exposed to the surface.
"Bucky this isn't going to be pleasant...you'll think I'm dead."

You linger outside the bedroom door listening for any signs of life. Nothing. You think she might be dead.
You try to heed what she said bowing your head in defeat, just as you step away you can hear her whimper and her teeth chatter together.
"C...Chloe...are you okay?" You knock gently on the door.
A pained sob comes from behind the oak, "go away." You hear her raspy breaths squealing as she turns herself on the mattress.
You know you shouldn't but you want to go in, you need to know whats happening to her, is there anything you can do for her? She told you to leave her alone. Then why cant you?
"Please Chloe, can I come in?" You plead... "just to help you." You're not even sure how you could help, but standing out here knowing that whatever pain she is going through right now is because of you.
If there is anything you can do to ease this then you have to try.
She doesn't reply, you can hear her bones shuddering...what can you do? You shuffle your feet uncomfortably outside the door unable to shake the feeling of guilt. It sits unsettled in your stomach, churning around in the acid and bile. Chloe inhales sharply causing you to jump, you want to give her space to do whatever it is she needs to do, but this helpless feeling that you are usually so bound to, has spiralled out of control.
"I warned you about this Bucky..." she groans through ragged breaths, her laboured voice fighting exposed pain.
You can't take any more and unlock the door, taking place beside her on the floor as she lies crumpled in the fetal position rocking back and forward, shivering uncontrollably.
"Are you cold?" Reaching out your hand you touch her arm, she flinches painfully as though every raw nerve has been exposed.
She groans weakly retching as she turns round to face you, "I'm everything..." she weeps pathetically, "f...fuck off Bucky pplease." Begging through anguish. Her eyes burn into you, ashamed as the sweat builds around her. A mixture of smells fill the room, "aaarghh..." a gurgle builds within Chloe's stomach, her back arches as she clambers off the bed searching for something frantically.
She doesn't make it, the very minimal contents of her stomach expel onto the floor, water and bile.
Grabbing the nearest bucket you hold it underneath her, wiping away hair from her face.
Sighing softly trying to control the anxious feeling that weighs you down you lie Chloe back down on the bed, "W...what can I do? I want to help."
She doesn't speak.
Weakly she feels around the bed for something to cover herself with, her half naked body littered with goosebumps as she shivers deliriously, you pull the sheet from the bottom of the bed placing it lightly on her.
The pain of her whimpers pierce you.
You cant take it any more, you climb in bed beside her and pull her closely to you. Wrapping your cool metal arm around her clammy body, and stroke her damp hair with the other.
Trying to offer what little comfort you can.
"I'm sorry Chloe." You choke, "I'm sorry."