James Barnes/OC
Marvel AU
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Alouette Clementine has battled severe illness for most of her life, but she never let that stop her from living it to the fullest. She was wild and carefree, never failing to shine a bright light on the darkest moments...
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𝘼𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚 𝘾𝙡𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙚 was young when she was diagnosed. She was seven years old, perched on the flat plastic of the pink hospital bed, waiting for the doctor to explain what was causing her seizures.
Her mom sat on the other side of the room, she was too lost in her own dissipated thoughts to notice the fearful shine in her daughters brown eyes.
Her green eyes focused solely on the floor, her leg tapping repeatedly against it, the soles of her shoes making distinct noises each time. It was her way of letting everyone know how long she'd gone without a shot of alcohol, or the releasing fix of her option of drugs.
Natasha was also there, right next to Alouette, their hands locked together, fingers intertwined tightly leaving the indent of promised absolution. It lay rested in the wake of their small fingertips, both knowing they would always be there for the other.
Natasha Romanoff was, and always had been, her best friend. She was funny and truthful, never running from a snide comment and never shying from an unwanted person.
She stood her ground, she was authorative and protective. And the demand for everyone's attention always shot through the area of every room she walked in. Her confidence and persona dragged the eyes of every person.
She was the complete opposite of Alouette.
Letty was always smiling, always happy and excited. She never failed to shine a light in the darkness. The sun drew it's shiny light from her, and the moon kindly reflected it back.
No one could help but love the sweet girl. She never hesitated to help anyone, she was always willing and ready despite only being seven.
Finnaly, when the door pushed open and the scrub clad doctor walked into the room, he stole the attention of Letty and Nat. But Delphine still looked down, her nails now being bitten off in an attempt to sway her deafening cravings.
The doctors words were a cluttered mess of analogys and medical terms- none of which the seven year old girl understood. But Nat partly did, so she did her best to dumb it down for Letty.
Nat was eleven now, and she'd been learning continuously about the vitality of the human body, and how it worked. She understood some of what the doctor was saying, but she didn't like it. She didn't like any of it.
A tumor took root near Letty's heart, a malignant mass that grew around her chest and left the aching press of severe pressure on her heart valve.
The doctor explained it as a butterfly.
It started off sated, as an innocent and lonely caterpillar. It roamed the walls of her body, tenaciously searching for a place to call home. Then finally, it found the place it felt most comfortable and welted it's cocoon on her heart.
It lived there, for months, waiting for the right moment to gather its bearings and hone it's intentions. Then, it sprouted from it's cocoon with fluttering wings and bright hosts of purpose.
But the butterfly rose too big for the place in her heart, and it no longer fit. So it wrapped it's wings around it's home, angry for the aim of betrayal. It practically suffocated the red muscle, squeezed it tightly within its wings.
And when it let go- her heart was panting to catch it's breath. It started beating quickly, too quickly to comprehend, and her body reacted in the form of seizures.
She was scheduled for surgery the following week, and the doctor was happy to report that they'd extracted a big chunk of the vengeful tumor.
But, it wasn't enough because, no matter what they did, whether it be chemo or radiation, or many more operations, it was intent on growing back, furious to finish it's mission.
Then, when she was at the bare age of fourteen and emancipated from her mother, who'd overdosed during her second, fourth and fifth operation, she told the doctor she didn't want to have anymore surgery.
She didn't want to do anymore chemo, or radiation because she wanted her hair back- and her life.
They all shook their head and told her she was too young to know what she wanted, but she nodded her head back and showed them she wasn't. And Nat stood by her.
She'd only had six seizures since then, which wasn't that great considering she'd stopped her treatment five years ago. It was okay though, she was okay.
She figured, if the butterfly had failed this much, there was no hope of it ever succeeding. It was simply too weak. It was her optimism talking, but she allowed it. She liked being optimistic, it made her feel free. And that was all she wanted.
