Picture is Tatiana Maslany as Emma Holmes.
Music is "I Couldn't Sleep A Wink Last Night" by Frank Sinatra with The Bobby Tucker Singers.
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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
{March, 1943 - Five Months Later}
New York City. Buffalo. Milwaukee. Boston. Philidelphia. Washington D.C. Nashville. Charleston. Atlanta. Orlando. Saint Louis. Dallas. Santa Fe. Los Angeles. San Fransisco. Portland. Seattle. Denver. Omaha. Minneapolis. Chicago. Indianapolis.
Those were the cities we went to. All twenty-two of them. And we did the tour four times. To say that I was glad to be back home in Brooklyn after five months of travelling is the understatement of the war. Between the shows the signing of comic books, the pictures with fans, the commercials, a d everything in between, home is the one place I want to be.
Steve has put his school on hold. I hand-picked my replacement at the school. Rose does her final year in high school by mail. She is a studious girl, knowing that if her grades drop, I'll make her go back to New York to finish there.
I almost cry when the cab drops the three of us back in front of the Barnes household. "Hooome!" Rose shouts, running up to the front door with a huge grin on her face. She grabs the pillar on the front porch and hugs it, humming, "I've missed you, House. I'm sorry for leaving you. Let's make up and get back together."
Steve shakes his head in laughter, following me up the stairs. "Finally. A couple weeks off."
"Yeah, it's not like we've been travelling for five months or anythin'," Rose adds sarcastically. She turns to me as soon as we get through the door. "Before the next tour, we need to go shopping."
"What kind of shopping?" I place my suitcase down on the kitchen counter.
Rose balances her head on her hands, which are propped against the kitchen counter. She winks at me, answering, "Wedding dress shopping, of course!"
"You ladies have fun," Steve laughs, dropping his bags into his room and coming back down the hallway towards us. "I just want to sleep."
"Besides, you have terrible taste."
"Wow, Rose. Nice to see you still have your New Yorker spirit."
"Damn right."
"Maybe tomorrow," I reply, walking to my bedroom. "It's been a long few months. I just want to sleep."
"You alright, Ems?" she asks, worry crossing her face as I nod to her from my doorway.
"I'm alright. Just tired. Haven't had a letter from Bucky in a long while."
"Yeah, it's been weeks for both of us, too," Steve mumbles, closing his eyes.
I shrug, turning to walk into Bucky's room. I pick one of his shirts from the drawer and put it on, as well as pajama pants. The room smells just how I left it; the scent of Bucky lingers in the air. It makes the house feel like a home again. That's something that hasn't happened since he left.
I curl up onto the bed, not bothering to get under the covers. Hugging his pillow to my chest, I can fall asleep to the sounds of whispering outside the door.
After about a half an hour, maybe more maybe less, I hear the door open again. Gentle footsteps come inside, and I feel the bed dip, heavily, on my left side. I peak one eye open to see Steve resting on his back beside me, eyes closing as a deep and tired sigh escapes his lips. Rose rests on the other side of him, curling up to him like she always does when she needs comforting.
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