The words of Dr. Erskine were coming back to haunt Steve. The serum amplifying what was already inside him hadn't really worried him when he was told about it, because he was ready to do what it took for his country. And afterwards, there hadn't really been any adverse effects. Maybe he was a bit more stubborn and Tony would call him self-righteous, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. What was happening with Celia was a bit different.
A simple act of self-preservation wasn't usually a problem. Steve couldn't fault anyone for finding a way to deal in an impossible situation, especially when it wasn't hurting anyone else. And at this point, Celia wasn't hurting anyone, except for maybe herself. The possible progression of this was worrying, but what could they do about it?
Each time something like this had happened, it had been a different scenario. It was one thing if there was a specific trigger Celia could avoid, but there wasn't. Possibly stress, but that was way too broad. And how did a person avoid that for the rest of their lives? On the other hand, she'd surely been involved in other stressful situations, but nothing like this happened. Like the confrontations with Tony and Fury and the kidnapping. The last example would've been the most triggering in Steve's opinion, but to their knowledge, nothing happened. So why now?
"Okay, we can figure this out," Steve said confidently, needing to stay optimistic. He may not have any good ideas at the moment, but he could at least do that.
"I'm getting so tired of being something that someone needs to figure out," Celia sighed.
"I didn't mean it that way."
"I know," Celia murmured, closing her eyes and tipping her head to rest on the back of the couch. "I'm just frustrated. And tired. And so fucking defeated."
"I remember how I felt at first. Like I'd never be able to get a handle on things." Bruce said. "I made a lot of mistakes along the way that I wouldn't recommend, but I'd like to think I'm better now."
"You do seem to be one of the more normal members of the team," Celia agreed, shooting him a small smile. "What do you think I should do?"
"In a perfect world there would be a test I could give you to figure out exactly what you should do and how to do it, but obviously we don't live in that world. So I say keep living your life as you have. Just try to be more cognizant of your emotions and maybe you'll start to recognize yourself slipping and be able to remove yourself from the situation," Bruce suggested. "And whoever is with you can try to do the same."
"A babysitter? I feel like I know someone who would be willing to do the job," Celia chuckled, glancing up in his direction. She wasn't wrong.
"If you wouldn't consider it too big of an invasion of privacy, I could go back through Jarvis' footage and see if I can identify some signs and vitals from the times it happened in the tower. And maybe make up a program so he can alert you if he notices anything worrying," Bruce proposed.
"Might as well take advantage of the eye in the sky," Celia shrugged. Steve could tell she wasn't happy about any of this, but there wasn't really anything they could do about it. They were making the best of a bad situation. "Do you think you could take the stitches out now? I should probably take care of this before another crisis pops up."
"Sure," Bruce agreed, gathering up the supplies he needed. Steve sat down on the couch beside Celia, offering his hand.
"Want some support?" he asked.
"How could I say no to that?" Celia sighed, placing her free hand in his. Bruce got to work, being as quick and gentle as possible. Celia didn't squeeze his hand once.
Celia walked out of her room later that night, after holing up and doing what needed to be done. It took her a while to fall asleep, just as she figured it would, and she didn't want Steve to think he had to stay with her the whole time. And the pressure of him laying there and watching her would've made things harder.
She got it done though, because that's what she did. When there was a problem, she figured out a solution. This new speedbump wasn't going to change her. Celia had been through too much in life to give up now.
She heard Steve messing around in the kitchen, so she went into the living room. It was raining, so Celia walked over to the big windows to watch the drops beat against the glass. The rhythm of it was soothing, helping her forget all of the things she was stressed about for a few seconds.
"Hey, you okay?" Steve asked tentatively from behind her. Celia turned to find Steve standing a few feet away from her, holding a couple of plates piled high with pizza.
"Yeah," Celia replied, shooting him a small smile. She held up her hand, letting him see it was back to normal. No evidence left.
"The others ordered pizza earlier, so I grabbed a few slices for us. If you want some, I mean," Steve said, shrugging his shoulders.
"Sure," Celia agreed, but she didn't move from her spot in front of the windows. She sat down instead, beckoning for Steve to join her on the floor. He did without question, setting the plates down in front of them, along with a couple drinks he pulled out of his pocket. Celia hadn't eaten since their disastrous lunch at the diner, but she still didn't feel very hungry.
"It's raining cats and dogs out there, isn't it?" Steve mumbled, flicking at an olive on one of the slices.
"My bedroom growing up had bars on the windows," Celia said suddenly. She wasn't sure why she was saying this now, but once she started, she realized she didn't really want to stop. "One time, when I was feeling bold, I asked what I was supposed to do if there was a fire and I couldn't get out through my bedroom door. My parents told me to pray. And if God didn't answer my prayers, maybe I deserved to have the fire of the devil take me down to hell."
"How old were you?" Steve asked softly.
"Eight."
"I'm so sorry."
"Could've been worse," Celia shrugged, resorting to her old standby of downplaying her trauma. Deb would be hitting her with one of her disappointed, yet understanding looks if she could hear her right now. But it was a hard habit to break.
"Celia-"
"The abuse wasn't physical. Well, that wasn't always true, but it usually wasn't physical. I think the worst time was when I was fifteen," Celia recalled, staring out over the rainy city as she got lost in the memories. "My mom would monitor my menstrual cycle and one month it was kind of late. That's totally normal, especially at that age, but my parents freaked out. No matter how many times I told them that I was a virgin, they just wouldn't listen. Pregnancy was a touchy subject for them, so a part of my mind tried to justify it. And when my dad was kicking me in the stomach, I told myself that it was their grief that was at fault."
"Oh, Celia," Steve murmured, reaching over to squeeze her hand.
"So when the same thing happened a few months later, I knew what I had to do. My mom was checking for blood, so that's what she found," Celia monotonically recounted. "I only had to do it a couple of times, so it wasn't a big deal."
"It was," Steve insisted, thumbing away the tears she hadn't realized she'd been crying.
"The point is, I had a problem and I found a way to fix it. Whatever's happening with me now is no different," Celia said with determination. There was no way that she'd gone through all that, just to be taken down because she couldn't keep her cool in stressful situations.
"Can I help?" Steve asked, scooting closer so their sides were pressed together. Celia tipped her head to the side to rest on Steve's shoulder, relishing in the warm stability she could always count on.
"Why are you so good to me?" Celia sighed, linking her arm through Steve's.
"You make it easy," Steve replied, setting his head on top of hers. They didn't talk about anything important after that, mostly just picking at the pizza and staring out the window. But it didn't feel awkward. Celia felt lighter now that she'd let a little more about her past slip out. For years, she'd honestly thought that she would never find someone she was comfortable enough to confide in. She sure hadn't told her ex about this stuff, and kept it to the bare minimum with friends. But Celia could see herself telling Steve about all of it someday.
"Thanks for dinner," Celia said as they ate the last of the pizza.
"Um, I have an idea," Steve said, a bit coyly.
"Okay…"
"Will you hang out with me tomorrow?" Steve asked.
"Like we do pretty much every weekend?" Celia questioned, glancing up at him in confusion. "I think that can be arranged."
"I was thinking something a little different. No training, no stress, just an easy day of doing something fun," Steve proposed. Celia snorted, grabbing the empty dishes to take to the kitchen.
"Don't you know that planning for no stress basically guarantees there will be some?" Celia pointed out, setting the plates in the sink as Steve threw away their drinks.
"Beating the odds is kind of our thing though, right? Unless you're scared," Steve challenged.
"Scared of having fun?"
"Yep."
"Oh, you're on. And I bet I'll have more fun than you."
"Impossible, since I'll be in your presence. There's no beating that," Steve grinned, the charming bastard.
"What time do we start?"
"Well, that's the first part of having a stress free day. No alarms."
"That does sound nice," Celia admitted. She didn't have to get up ridiculously early for work, but some nights it was harder to convince her brain to let her sleep. Celia started walking toward the hall to their bedrooms when Steve's hand on her arm stopped her.
"Sleep with me tonight?" Steve murmured.
"Is that a proposition or are you afraid that I will have a nightmare and go on a rampage?" Steve's cheeks turned pink and he rolled his eyes.
"Neither." Celia decided to take pity on him and stop the teasing, since he was about to put in so much effort into giving her a good day.
"Let's go," Celia agreed, pulling him toward his room. Maybe a relaxing day was what they both needed. Steve definitely deserved it, after his not so perfect birthday and the mission right after. This could be the thing that changed the tides.
If only Celia knew just how much things would change after this weekend. They would never be the same.
