Rumors of War || The First Avenger

Chapter Six: What Was Lost

Picture is Sophie Nelisse as Rose Elizabeth Barnes.

Music is "Answer Me, My Love" by Bing Crosby.

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CHAPTER SIX: What Was Lost

The day before Bucky is set to leave for England, he comes to me early in the morning and surprises all of us with tickets to the Stark Expo in downtown Brooklyn this evening. He said to get dressed up and be ready by six this evening, and we're going as a "double date" with the four of us.

I'm ecstatic. Bucky and I share a keen interest in the scientific advancements of our time. It seems so hard to keep up these days. Something new is being invented all the time, and a lot of that we can thank Howard Stark for, owner of Stark Industries.

"He's goin' to have a flying car experiment there, Em," Bucky had told me with wildly excited eyes. "It's goin' to be so much fun! There's gonna be the Expo, and dancing, and pictures, and so much more."

So I took the day off. Luckily my good friend Mrs. Coulson can fill in for me. When I told her the reason I was taking the day off, she was more than happy to cover me. Her son was off to war as well, so we shared a common bond in wishing our boys to come home safely... and soon.

I told Rose to call in sick, and she was more than happy to play hookie. We'd decided we would spend the day pampering ourselves and talking, just relaxing before our fun evening.

Well, I was talking. She just sat there and let me put her hair up in curlers as it dried. "Okay," I say, sitting down in front if her on the sofa. "All your hair is up. It should take about an hour and a half to dry." I play with the one curl that sticks out from her bangs, a stubborn little thing that refuses to cooperate, much like its owner. "You have such thick hair."

Her face is still a blank, slightly angry slate. She nods and mumbles a thank you, getting up to turn the radio on. "It's too early, Rosie," I tell her. "Nothing is on. I checked already."

She sighs and returns to her seat, laying down and resting her head on my lap. "Do you want to tell me what's going on with you?" I ask, softly.

She shakes her head no. "Not really."

I bite my lower lip in worry. "I'm concerned about you, Rose. You haven't been the same since... you know..." Rose doesn't reply or even move. I stand to my feet and hold out my hand to her. "Come with me," I say. "Sit on my bed and keep me company while I put curlers in my hair?"

Rose nods and follows me to the tiny, cramped bedroom that I sleep most nights now. Every now and then I will sleep in Bucky's room with him... but that's an entirely different story.

She plops down on the mattress and crosses her legs underneath her, watching me as I sit on my bench in front of one of the two pieces of furniture in the room: my vanity. Because every girl needs a vanity to keep the fun stuff, like nail polish, blush, perfume, lipstick, and curlers. "Ya know," she starts, looking around the small room, "you should move your stuff into Bucky's room this weekend."

My hands halt in a small amount of shock. "Why would I do that?"

She shrugs. "He won't need the room anymore. Might as well get you outta this closet."

I continue rolling my damp, shoulder blade length hair up into the curlers. "It's your brother's room, Rose. I'm not going to take it. He'll be home before I can get comfortable. We're winning the war."

"No, we're not."

"Who told you that?"

"My teacher. He says that we're losin' the war over in Guadalcanal and in the Pacific theatre. We can't find the Jap's ships-"

"-Well," I correct, looking at her in the mirror, "your teacher is very wrong, sweetheart. We're winning. Four allied brigades broke through the German defensive lines just this week. It's only a matter of time."

She scoffs, pulling up her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them. "Yeah. Matter of time."

I place the curlers down and turn to look at her. "Okay, Rose. I've put up with this attitude for almost a week now. You've been angry at me, at Steve, and at Bucky, at everyone, and I understand. We've let it go on because we understand that you're hurting, but you're killing us, Rose. Bucky thinks you hate him, Steve doesn't have anyone to talk to but me and Bucky anymore, and I haven't been able to find out why you're so angry at us."

"You wouldn't understand," she says, scowling at me.

I raise an eyebrow and cross my arms. "Really? I wouldn't understand?" I pause. "Do you know why my family moved to America in the first place?"

She nods slightly. "Bucky told me it was because of the first War."

I nod. "Yes, but it was more than just the first War. I was born on May 24th, 1918, exactly 99 years after Queen Victoria, seven months before the end of the first War. My father was drafted for the British army just six months before I was born, and because of that, I, like Steve, never met my father. He was killed in action in France."

Rose's eyes soften. "I'm sorry, Emma."

"It's alright. It was a long time ago. After he died, my mother saved for nearly ten years so we could move to America. It was just she and I, for she never remarried or had other children. It was hard, but eventually we made it to America."

"What does this have to do with me?" Rose asks.

"I know how it feels is my point," I reply, resting a hand on her knee. "I know how it feels to lose someone and go through hardship because of that loss, but Rose, good things come out of bad situations. I mean, if my father hadn't died, we never would've moved to America. I never would've met you, or Bucky, or Steve." I smile. "I wouldn't change what's happened."

"I've already lost my parents," she whispers. "I know we don't talk about her much, but we haven't talked to Rebecca since my Mom died." Rebecca Penelope Barnes is the middle Barnes child, and is rarely spoken of. She was seventeen when her mother died, and just two weeks after the funeral, she ran off with a boy and we haven't heard of her since. "I can't lose Bucky, too." Rose sniffs and tears start to form in her eyes.

I pull Rose closer to me and cradle her in my arms as she wraps her arms around me. "I know, Rosie. I know. It's going to be hard. I'm not going to pretend it's not, but we'll persevere. You have me and Steve, and we'll write Bucky every day if we have to."

"He's my brother," she whimpers against my chest, clinging tighter to me. "He's the only family I have."

"Steve and I are your family, too," I reply. "We see you like a sister, and we love you as such." She pulls up from my chest and wipes her eyes. "There's something you have to understand."

"What's that?" she asks, sniffling.

I smile and take my handkerchief from my pocket and wipe the remaining tears from her rosey cheeks. "No amount of time or distance can make Bucky love you less, or not think of you as often. No war, no darkest nights, no victory or defeat can make him forget us. We are what he's fighting for." I chuckle. "Well, us and the good ole U.S."

She laughs and smiles again. "I guess not." Rose suddenly frowns. "Dear God, what've I done? I've been so cruel to him..."

"He will be home in a few hours," I say, reassuring her. "Let's finish our hair, makeup, and nails, and have a great night. Okay?"

She grins and nods. "You always know just what to say, Em. How do you do it?"

I shrug, smirking. "It's my superpower."

END CHAPTER SIX: What Was Lost.