innocent

was it worth it?

Cecelia had her head leaning on the wall of the quinjet.

At that moment, she was thinking. Thinking about when they were leaving. About the way that Natasha looked at her.

It wasn't a look of pity, but it was. Maybe understanding? She couldn't tell, but she felt like it was a good thing, maybe. Maybe she did understand how Cecelia felt.

Cecelia was forced to kill from a young age, it was a known fact. She was 4 years old and taken from her home, her family. But, her family betrayed her, used her for money, but it didn't work in their favor. She watched her parents die at the hands of Hydra.

Then she grew up with Hydra, they used her as their little pawn. They made her forget things that made her weak. They said ten words, and then she snapped. They put electrical surges through her brain, making her like a zombie. They forced her to kill people, and in her head was a voice saying don't do it. Don't kill them, but everything else took over. Everything Hydra taught her took over.

Kill or be killed. Show no mercy. They're bad, you're good. You work wonders for man kind. You help people. You're shaping the future. Things like that made her kill, because the eyes made her think she was doing the right thing.

Sometimes reality hit, and she knew what they made her do was wrong. She refused to kill someone, she refused to have their blood on her hands. Then it backfired.

They said the words, and shocked her brain. She forgot everything, she had to be reintroduced. She had to know James, then she had to remember who her superiors were, and where she stood. She was nothing but a killer and a lab rat.

That went on for years, upon years. Cecelia was treated like an weapon. The mask she wore was like a muzzle, it made her feel like an animal. It silenced her cries and her pain. It made her silent.

Then one day, everything changed. Cecelia was no longer silent. She escaped Hydra and it's tortures. She stopped killing. She thought everything was over, her pain, and her suffering. But it was far from that.

The nightmares happened, and the sickly feeling when she saw herself. There was one number in her head.

103

103 and three people, and Cecelia remembered each and every one of them. She hated that she had 103 people's blood in her hands. It made her feel like less of a human. It made her feel like a machine, a ruthless, killing machine.

Before they were caught, the number was 94, and now it was 103. She killed 12 people in one day. The day she escaped Hydra, she killed 11.

She knew every single one of their faces, they rested with her, they haunted her. Females, males, adults, children. Every single one of their faces she remembered. She knew some of their names.

"What's gonna happen to your friends?"

The sudden silenced stopped, and Cecelia's thoughts no longer raced through her head. She looked up and over at Bucky who'd asked Steve a question. Steve let out a sigh as he felt bad. He didn't know.

"Whatever it is...I'll deal with it." Steve said, Cecelia closed her eyes and leaned her head back.

"I don't know if I'm worth all this, Steve." Bucky said, his thoughts like Cecelia's.

"If you're not worth it, neither am I. So this was all just a waste of time." Cecelia said staring at the floor. Steve looked back at them, the words that came out of Cecelia's mouth damaging him.

Is that how she thought of herself. No 9 year old should think they aren't worth important things, or that they're a waste of time. Nobody should ever think that.

"What you did all those years...it wasn't you. You didn't have a choice." Steve said, Cecelia scratched her eye as Steve said the very comforting words to them.

"I know." Bucky said looking at Cecelia, who was just trying to rest.

"But I did it."

-

Hours later they'd landed, Cecelia finally fell asleep. Her cuts didn't heal, but thankfully her bleeding stopped though. There was dried blood on her cheek, and it crusted over.

When they landed, Cecelia unbuckled her seatbelts. She stood up, her legs a little wobbly from resting for so long. She followed behind Bucky as he walked over a compartment labeled Romanoff. He grabbed a gun out, and then handed one to Cecelia. It was a hand gun.

"How come you get all the big guns?" Cecelia asked as she put it in her belt. Bucky frowned at her question. "No, I only ever get hand guns." Cecelia said, Bucky shook his head and put his gun down on the ground. He crouched done in front of Cecelia, getting to her height.

"I'm so proud of you, doll." He said, cupping her cheeks in his hands. "I thought it was gonna be over, and I'm sorry." Bucky said as he stroked his thumb in her cheekbone. Cecelia nodded her head.

"It's ok." She said, being brave for him. Right now she knew he was worrying about her, he always was. So she'd stay strong for him like he stayed strong for her for the past year.

"I love you." He said, Cecelia smiled and threw herself on him for a hug.

"I love you more." Cecelia said as Bucky held onto her. His hand went onto the back of her head as he held her.

"I love the most." He said as she clutched onto him. Steve walked in, feeling bad for interrupting their moment.

Bucky removed himself from the hug and he stood up.

"Ready?" Bucky asked, Cecelia nodded her head. The two walked over to Steve. He opened the doors to the quinjet, and they slowly went down. The cold winds brushed into the quinjet, sending a shiver through Cecelia.

The three stood there, waiting, and Steve broke silence. "You remember that one time when we had to ride back from Rockaway Beach in the back of that freezer truck?" Steve asked Bucky, looking at him.

"Is that the time you used our train money to buy hot dogs?" Bucky asked him, a smile growing on his face.

"You blew three bucks trying to win that stuffed bear for a redhead." Steve said, the smiles still on their faces. Bucky furrowed his eyebrows, getting a thought.

"What was her name, again?" Bucky asked, Steve looked ahead.

"Dolores. You called her Dot." Steve said, Cecelia smiled as she looked down at her boots. They were scuffed up there were small rips, but none big enough to take a lot of notice.

"She's gotta be a hundred years old right now." Bucky said, Steve placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a light pat.

"So are we, pal."