COBRA | B. BARNES

XVIII. FORMING A PLAN

Her whole body was in pain when she woke up the next morning and for a second, Aiyla thought she'd be unable to leave her bed. A low groan left her throat involuntarily as she moved, her eyes squeezed shut. She needed to tend to her injuries and she seriously doubted she'd manage to actually get dressed. As much as she hated to admit it, Aiyla needed help.

She listened closely for any sound in the house, and a while later, she heard something. It was a low continuous hum that brought her to smile in relief as she realised she wasn't alone. If she were to judge by what she had heard, it seemed like Sam was gone and Bucky was humming. He only hummed when Sam was gone, for whatever reason, but Aiyla didn't mind. She was just glad someone was in the house.

"Bucky!"

The humming stopped as she fought to roll to her side and pushed herself up, resting on her elbows with a small wince. A short while later, the door of her bedroom opened and Bucky peered inside, a strand of hair falling in front of his face as he sent her a smile.

"Good morning."

"Morning," she mumbled as she pushed herself up with a wince. He was by her side in seconds, and as he got near and his body was no longer hidden by the door, she realised he had already grabbed an ice pack and a small towel. He placed both of these items on the nightstand beside her bed as he looked at her with a small frown.

"Are you alright?"

"I feel like my body's on fire," she admitted as she fell on the bed with a groan. "I need your help."

Bucky looked down at her for a long moment it seemed before his eyes trailed down her body covered in the sheets and he cleared his throat. "Are you decent?"

"I'm in my pyjamas," she mumbled, keeping her eyes closed as she took even breaths. "Can you help me? I can't put ice on the bruises on my own."

Bucky didn't give a verbal response but she felt the sheets moving and then her pyjama shirt and white t-shirt beneath were raised and she shivered from the cold just as she felt the towel drap over her back and then the ice pack being placed on it. She let out a small hiss and hid her face further into the pillow.

"I hate getting injured."

"Most people do," he murmured as he looked at the bare skin of her lower back, taking in the numerous scratches and scars, some deeper than others. Bucky forced himself to look away as he focused back on her face. "Is there anything else you want me to do?"

"Not now," she murmured as she turned her head to the side and opened her eyes, frowning slightly as she looked away. "I'll need you to help me change my pyjama top."

Colour rushed to his cheeks without his consent. "Are you sure?"

"I can't do it on my own, Bucky," she sighed. "I'll need you to help me get it out and then help me put on a shirt. I'm sorry I'm wasting your time like this-"

"I don't have anything to do, Aiyla, don't apologise," he mumbled as he sat down on the bed beside her. "Are you any better today?"

"A bit," she murmured as she opened her eyes once more. "Where's Sam?"

"Running around the forest somewhere," he explained simply as she nodded. "Fury will be here in a while."

She sighed. "I don't know if I want to see him."

"Why not?"

"He warned us we'd be attacked but we didn't listen. And now he wants us to take over their base or something. I just don't want him to look at me and think he told me we should have gotten to a different safehouse."