innocent

clean

Cecelia was sitting in a chair with Bucky behind her. She had a long sleeved black shirt on with her suit pants on. She was still pissed off at him, but, she can't pop her shoulder back in by herself.

She sat there as she watched Sam walk back inside, carrying the blood soaked shield. He placed it down, leaving it like that. He stormed away, grabbing his backpack as he did so. Cecelia watched him do it.

She knew everyone was hurting. Steve meant a lot to everyone. Bucky and Sam were his best friends, and Cecelia was his kid. Of course it was going to fuck with everyone.

As Bucky stood behind her, now in normal clothes he sighed. Cecelia looked like the pain wasn't hurting her, but in reality, she just wanted to cry.

"Why'd you storm off like that?" Bucky asked as he tried to find out how to pop it. Last time, she was on the floor of a quinjet in pain. She had Steve Rogers laying her on the floor with Bucky comforting her. Then Captain America himself popped her shoulder back in.

Cecelia ignored him. She crossed her legs as she stared ahead of her. All she wanted was a hug, but she was to stubborn to ask him. To angry at him to ask. To scared. To...well she was having millions of thoughts rushing inside her head where she overthought everything.

"Cecelia." Bucky said, almost as if it was a warning. "If you don't answer right now-"

"What, are you gonna order me to stay in my room?" Cecelia asked, quoting him of what he said earlier. Bucky's hand raked through his hair as she looked up at him.

"Didn't know we were still assassins." Cecelia said before turning around. Bucky walked in front of her and crouched down. His hands placed on her knees as he looked up at her.

"Cecelia." Bucky said as she looked away from her. Cecelia only sat there. She wanted to look at him, but she was hurt, and she was stubborn. She wanted to hug him, but he'd hurt her. He brought back something that was gone.

Maybe she could've understood more. Understood why he said that. Cecelia wasn't a person to back down, everyone learned that. So Bucky needed her to stay down, especially while she was hurt.

"I'm sorry, I was just worried about you, and it came out in the heat of the moment." Bucky said, Cecelia nodded her head. Tears glistened in her eyes as Bucky read her face. She needed comforting, and no one comforted her better than he did.

Bucky pulled her in, being careful of her shoulder. Cecelia rested her head on his shoulder as he sighed.

"I love you, and I'm sorry, doll." He said, and Cecelia nodded her head.

"Me to." She sniffled, he kissed her temple as he held her in his arms. She laid there for a moment, letting him love her. She had one arm wrapped around his torso as he held her.

"Let's set that shoulder." He said before standing back up. Cecelia frowned as he got up. He walked up behind her and sighed. She took a deep breath as one hand went in front of her shoulder, and another went behind.

pop

She groaned as she felt it go into back on, pain searing around the area. She clenched her fist, and stared at the shield. The blood soaked shield. It still didn't fail to make her sick.

"Good?" Bucky asked and she nodded.

"Mhm." She hummed as she stood up. Bucky out a hand on her good shoulder, pushing her down.

"I'm gonna go get dressed, just sit down and relax for a minute." Bucky said before walking away. He wanted to change into real clothes, clean clothes. Not his bloody suit.

She heard the door close, and Cecelia walked over to the shield. She picked it up, the noise of vibranium softly humming. She stared at it, her blood moving the blood from off of it.

She walked to the sink and placed the shield on the counter. She grabbed a sponge, and turned on the sink. All while being careful with her arm. She put some soap onto the sponge making sure it was soapy enough to clean the shield with.

She squeezed out some water before moving to the shield. She used her good arm to scrub.

Tears grew inside of her eyes as she scrubbed. She sniffled and wiped them away with her sleeve, feeling an ache from her shoulder still. She scrubbed again.

She felt her chest caving in, and her breathing quickening. .Shit.

She scrubbed, and scrubbed and scrubbed. She cried and cried and cried. She tried to gasp for her breath of fresh air, but she only panted as she sobbed. She was overwhelmed, but being overwhelmed was an understatement.

She had scrubbed the shield, the soap on the sponge going red. The sponge turning into a deep red.

She harshly scrubbed hearing the door open. Sam was walking out of the bathroom, apparently.

While she cleaned it off as hard as she could, the sponge began to tear. She was so harsh, it was starting to tear off. There was soapy blood running down her sleeve, fortunately not showing because of them being black. Though it did go into her hands, and in her finger nails.

Her heart beat faster than she was thinking and she freaked out a lot more. She started to try to take a deep breath, but nothing could calm her down. Nothing helped her now.

The shield was cleaned off now. There was just red bubbles on the surrounding area. But that didn't stop her, she kept going. She hated John for what he had done to something so important, something so symbolic.

She understood how he felt when he lost Lamar, seeing him die. Cecelia knows how that feels, but she hated what he had done with that shield. It was something special, it gave people protection, it made them feel protection.

John didn't understand that.

That shield was a legacy. Steve gave it to Sam, and Sam was supposed to become a captain. Sam threw it away. It went into the wrong hands, and one day, it would be gone. Because he left something so important in the wrong hands.

The sponge broke and she tossed one part of it down. She felt her legs feeling like jelly, so she quickly took the shield and got on her knees. "ебать." (fuck) she cursed as she started to clean the shield again, with half of a sponge. She sniffled in tears as she cleaned.

"Cecelia." Sam said as he heard her cries. He felt so guilty, so terrible. If he just kept the shield, none of this would have ever happened. There would be no John Walker, no Lamar. Cecelia could be at home with Bucky right now, but no. She was fighting for this. Something he caused.

He saw what she'd been doing, and it broke him. He felt tears go in the back of his eyes and he knelt down next to her.

"Hey, it's clean, it's ok." Sam said to her, trying to do what Bucky did. Calm her down. No one did it better than Bucky did, but it was worth a try. He took the shield from her hands, being soft with her, and placed it on the floor next to him.

Next he took the sponge, tossing that next to him as well. She breathed out, or tried to as he held her closely.
"I'm sorry, Sam." She cried as he pulled her in. Her head was on his chest as he sat there with her, and for once it didn't feel awkward. He felt like it was something he should do, and he felt good about it, and what he was doing.

Her head was in her hands as he wrapped his arms around her. "It's not your fault, it's mine, Ceil." He said as she choked on her tears. "Take a deep breath, you're okay." He said to her as her heartbeat slowed down.

"It's not your fault, it never was."