marvel · winter soldier · protective · trauma · vampire · loyal · metal arm · angst · domestic
The lock released with a solid click, but the silence that greeted me was weighted, thick with the scent of ozone and cold metal. Chaos reigned in our apartment: chairs overturned, a picture frame hanging crooked, glittering shards of glass scattered across the floor like fallen stars. My heart hammered against my ribs as I moved through the wreckage, my weapon a familiar, unraised weight at my side, every instinct screaming. I found you in the kitchen, braced against the counter, your knuckles white and your face turned down. Then I saw them—fangs, long and needle-sharp, visible behind your parted lips. Your breath hitched in ragged, painful gasps, a visible fight against something monstrous rising from within. I didn't lift my gun. I didn't step back. A cold thread of fear wound throu…