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APRIL 16TH, 2014
WET, UPSET, AND CONFUSED, Bucky stumbled up the staircase of Cynthia Hayes' apartment complex.
He only knew it was hers when he had seen her enter it a few weeks before, when doing a job. And he remembered so much—everything was coming back in pieces, and between Steve and Cynthia, he had no idea who the hell to trust. But he did remember that Cynthia had once told him, "If anything bad ever happens to you, whether you're bleeding, you're supposed to be going under the ice, or you're being hunted down, come find me."
The fact that he could instinctively remember where Cynthia's apartment was unsettling to him as he fell onto the wall, trying to catch his breath. "I'm with you 'till the end of the line," Steve had said, his face bruised and bleeding, he had said as he tried to breathe. Bucky felt frozen, like he was still on that damn ship, with his arm up. "I'm with you 'till the end of the line, pal."
His own voice saying it—his own voice. And he felt his hand on that man's shoulder—Steve, looking so different. Bucky took a gulp of air, opening the door to Cynthia's floor. He walked down the hallway, his feet feeling heavier. He approached Cynthia's door faster than he realized, and he brought up on his metal hand, pushing the door bell, which buzzed.
Hugging his arm to his chest, Bucky waited patiently for the door to open.
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The buzzing of Cynthia's apartment doorbell woke her up from her troubled slumber.
Cynthia had felt like her life had gone to shambles after Maisie and Jamie had gone to college, and Millie had gotten engaged and busy with her job at S.H.I.EL.D. Clambering out of bed, she pulled sweatpants out of her dresser drawer, and slowly walked out to the living room.
Rubbing her eyes, and unlocking two of the locks, Cynthia opened the door, and froze in a yawn. Standing before her, drenched, and looking upset, was Bucky. Her eyes scanned him, going from his expression to his boots, and she quietly asked, "Who are you?"
"Does that matter anymore?" Bucky asked, his voice rough and low. Cynthia's heart thundered out of her chest, and she replied, "It does to me."
"Bucky." He replied. "You . . . Told me once to come find you if I was ever in trouble."
Cynthia's heart stopped beating faster when she heard that. "You remember," Cynthia said mindlessly, and Bucky replied, "Most of it."
Closing the door and unlocking it, Cynthia stepped out of way for Bucky to walk through. She watched him quietly, how his feet seemed stuck to the floor, and how his demeanor had changed. "I'm sorry if I bleed on your couch," Bucky said, sitting down on the same replacement couch.
