Buzzkill [Winter Soldier]

Chapter 36

Ruth told James everything she knew, which wasn't much compared to what he would know with his memory back. She told him how Steve was now called "Captain America" and how Steve was apart of the Avengers, how he was in World War II, and how he ended up being frozen before someone found him seventy years later. Ruth kept telling James how little she really knew, but he appreciated her trying.

James was curious with every word she said, "So your last name is Rogers, right?"

"Yes."

"Any...correlation there?"

"He's my cousin, I guess." Ruth still didn't want to be associated with Captain America's righteous name, but if it helped James, she would let it be.

"How? If he doesn't have any siblings? And he's ninety something years old?"

"I guess my father is Steve's, uncle's, grandson..."

"That's a mouth full."

"Yeah."

James rubbed his temple as if he had a headache.

"Is that too much?" Ruth asked, concerned at the pain that Dr. Mage said was caused by the memories; whether Mage was lying about that or not Ruth didn't know.

"I'm not sure," James replied.

"You're probably tired."

"Probably." James pointed to his backpack, "There are protein bars in there if you get too hungry. Tomorrow we can go out and find something."

Ruth got up and slid the couch across the wall so it was underneath the TV, and in plain view of the door and window if anyone tried to get in.

Once the sun set, James fell into a fitful sleep after the first hour, the pain in his arm waking him up every few minutes. Ruth sat up against the end of the couch where she could watch the door. Just sitting down and looking at the same spot for hours on end made Ruth feel restless, though her eyes were warm and wanting to close. While keeping her eyes on the door, she listened to every small noise going on in and outside. The fan in the bathroom was still going, but she had turned off the fan in the living space because it was too loud to hear anything else. The only noises that came through were the steady sounds of cars passing by, and the occasional faint snoring coming from James.

Unfortunately, the silence invited sound within Ruth's mind. The way the noises and voices began, and the scattered visions going along with them, Ruth didn't know if she were dreaming or not. She tried shifting in her seat, pinching her arm until she felt enough pain to notice, and even stretching her eyes open to try and make sure she was awake; and she was. At first, the visions started as little glimpses of shadows catching her eye and moving around the room. As the hours in the night led on, the shadows became figures lurking. The figures would move suddenly and swiftly from different sides of the room to the other. Some Ruth swore would even touch the back of her head, then disappear before she could catch them; it was haunting. The figures began to whisper and sometimes scream. It would startle Ruth so much she kept looking over at James and wondered how he hadn't woken up from their voices yet. Maybe he's dead, she would wonder. They must have killed him.

You should kill him, her mind said to her, taking the thoughts of curiosity and turning them into morbid thoughts of anger and death.

Wake him up. Break his arm more. Cause him pain.

Ruth tried and tried to push those thoughts out of her mind, but the voice wasn't harsh and didn't sound evil, it sounded like herself. Her conscious voice she's had in her head her whole life. The most frightening part was the fact that she thought the voices were her own.