The Black Knightress (Back up for fulls)

{63}

November 26 2015
Rogers' House, Sarah's Room
Sarah's POV

My body seizes with bawling as I cry out my ignored emotional pain and trauma of all that i've gone through. I can't even control any of my body's movements because of everything i'm finally letting out in this place.

The sheer power that a single person can hold over another is immensely terrifying in certain contexts in a match of all the honesty from what's happened. Alexander Pierce was the worst thing to happen to me, forget being taken by Hydra, Pierce being hired was the worst day of my life.

The television's volume in the other room is slightly altered, going higher and lower until I begin hearing listening to the voices downstairs.

Bucky's POV

As I'm watching from the outside of this family, I notice how good Steve is with his granddaughter, her kids, and their kids. I don't think i've seen him smile this big since the day Kat was born or when he reunited with Sarah and I this spring.

Sarah.

She hasn't come back yet.

Calvin adjusts the volume of the television, allowing me to clearly hear and focus on the terrorized cries from upstairs. I know those whimpers and quiet screams better than my own, those are the ones that come from a place so far down you don't even know exactly what you're upset about.

Steve flips his head to look at me, a wild and protective look in his eye that i'm only used to seeing in my own eyes when I would peek in the mirror while cleaning Sarah's injuries. He begins getting up, but I walk to him and set my left hand on his left collarbone to calm him down.

"It's alright, you can go up there in a few minutes." I assure him

He nods with a sigh, looking back at more of his family as the kids play with their siblings and parents because they don't know anything worse than not being able to have sweets at night or monsters under their bed.

I make my way up the stairs, knowing Sarah can probably hear me but not caring because I really don't want to scare her. When I get to the door, I see her overpowered body on the bed. She's hugging two picture frames to her as she rocks back and forth, whispering silent pleas to whomever may be listening.

I get to her, sitting to her right just before the picture frames fall from her hands onto her legs, but she reacts as if this has already happened. She leans into me, her back and head falling on my left arm and shoulder that I refuse to let anyone in this house other than her and Steve see or touch knowingly.

Her cries soften, though it sounds forceful and pushed instead of natural and soothed. I put my right hand at the top of her right shoulder, rubbing my thumb on the top of her shoulder blade.

"Let it out Sarah, you know you don't have to hide from me." I assure quietly

She moves from my arm, crawling into my lap like she always used to when she needed to feel close to somebody. She puts her legs around my middle and her hands just above that as she tucks her head into my neck where it's much warmer than my left arm is most the time.

I rub her back, attempting to get her to let out all she's been holding back for however long she's tried to. She clings to me as she always has, the gesture meaning to comfort her makes me feel better in its own way that she trusts me and she believes in me. I cradle her to my chest (she may technically be a teenager, but she'll always be a little girl to me) for her to accept the grasp gratefully.