girl ― saved by captain america

[sixteen] clean

[Steve]

"Not scary," Girl mumbles quietly to herself as I begin preparing things for her bath, the wavering in her voice letting know that more than anything, she's trying to convince herself of this. My heart softens at her efforts.

"Not scary," I repeat back to her gently, grabbing a towel and placing it down on the ground for her to step out on when she's done. Reaching out over the empty basin, I turn the crank the faucet dial to the left, the sudden rushing sound causing Girl to jump. Softening my expression towards the child, I send her a sympathetic smile, feeling just as bad as I always do when I accidentally startle her. I check the temperature periodically with my hand, and as soon as it feels comfortable, I push down on the plug. Slowly, the water level begins to rise.

Turning back to Girl, my gaze catches hers, causing her to flinch. Looking around the bathroom, I wish I had a rubber duck or toy boat to throw in the bath, just to act as some sort of distraction for the little one. Unfortunately, all of this has been so last-minute; we have the essentials, but there are a lot of things we should still compile into a shopping list to go grab soon.

"Okay, sweetheart. While that's filling up, should we get you out of your clothes?" At my words, the small girl's eyes widen as she takes an instinctive step back, bumping up against the door that's now closed behind her. As her hands come up from her sides to form a defensive position, she looks at me, her eyes swelling with fear. Softening my posture, I lower my voice, murmuring, "It's alright, Girl. I won't hurt you." Cautiously, I shift towards the child, only for her to strain her body further up against the door, trembling helplessly. "Hey, you're okay. Can you take some deep breaths? In, and out, there you go. It's just me, remember? Just Stevie."

"Just S-Stevie," Girl stutters, trying her best to match her breathing to my words.

"Yep, just Stevie. You're safe, doll; nothing bad's gonna happen to you." Not wanting to push her too quickly, but also wanting to move her along to show her how just how safe she is, I ask, "Do you think we can take off your shirt and your bottoms? You can keep your underwear on if you want. They'll get wet, but we can put on dry ones when you get out." More than anything, I just want to do as much as I can to make this an easier, less frightening process for her. Because of her traumatic past, hopefully covering her most vulnerable parts will make this a little bit more bearable. The girl considers my offer for several moments, but ultimately nods, prompting me to give her an encouraging smile.

Her shaky arms reach down to the hem of her shirt, carefully lifting it up and off of her body. She holds it in both of her hands, looking confused as to where to put it.

"Here, I can take that," I tell her warmly, reaching out and taking the blouse from her. Folding it up loosely, I set it on the counter. Girl watches my every move, clearly still skeptical of me and my motives during this new experience. When I turn back to her, she looks down at her pants, her fingers finding their way to the button above the zipper. She fumbles with it for a few good seconds before I offer, "Here, do you want some help with that?"

The child looks up at me and nods, her cheeks turning pink. As I inch closer to her, she once again presses herself back against the door, my heartache only worsening for the fearful girl. As carefully as I can, I reach out and tug down on the zipper. I then unbutton the button at the top, saying softly, "There you go, sweetie."

Her hands move down and find the waistline of the pants, but before she proceeds, a nervous expression forms on her face. Glancing up at me for a moment, her mouth opens as if she's about to say something, but then it appears she stops herself. Closing her mouth, the little girl gulps, her eyes falling to the floor. "Hey, what is it, doll?" I ask carefully. Biting her lip anxiously, Girl is quiet, seemingly unable to let herself speak. "It's alright, sweetheart," I soothe, "you can tell me."