BURNT EDGES ☆ BUCKY BARNES

THIRTY-FOUR

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JUNE 16TH, 2017

THE NEW TOWNHOUSE John had moved them into made Cynthia think about home, in England. In New York.

She was very confused by the clothes, and all the cars and movie posters and signs, advertising things way beyond anyone's capacity in the 80s. "I was thinking of taking you out to the movies tonight," John said as they unpacked their books. They were sitting in the living room, Cynthia on the couch, and John sitting on a stool near the bookshelf by the window.

"Oh, really? What movie?" Cynthia asked, feeling a lot more comfortable living in the city. She still knew hardly anything about him, yet she told him if they were going to be together, or live together, they were going to have to be friends. Because the heart wants what it wants, and it wants Bucky.

"I'm not sure yet, but I'm sure we'll find something to watch, won't we, darling?" John replied, and Cynthia rolled her eyes at his term of endearment. "Don't roll your eyes at me," John snapped, and Cynthia looked him in the eye, and said, "What happened to our agreement, John?"

John clenched his jaw, and looked down at the book in his lap. "That agreement is like paper . . . " John quietly said, his tone fiery with rage. "Easily breakable."

But before he finished the sentence, he threw the book right at Cynthia, who gasped, and fell to the floor, grasping her cheek. She glared up at him, as he stalked over, towering over her. "You're lucky I don't burn you from the inside out, you bastard." Cynthia seethed, as she looked at her bloody hand. Her cheek healed, and she got up, wiping the blood on his white shirt. "Go ahead and explain that to your manager at work."

She walked past him, going towards the kitchen. A bright pink paper was sitting on the counter near the window, and Cynthia frowned. She glanced back at the living room, where John was gone, walking down the hallway to change his shirt. Cynthia picked it up, frantically folding it into a small square, and shoving it into her bra. She'd look at it later, she wouldn't risk it right now.

"John? Should I get lunch started? Or would you like to go out again?" Cynthia called to him from the kitchen.

"Let's stay in today. I'll be taking you out for dinner later, anyway." John replied as he walked back down the hallway in a button down black shirt; coming into the kitchen. "We'll have sandwiches today."

Cynthia nodded as she opened the door to the fridge, grabbing all the lunch meats and then the bread from the cupboards. Later, she'd look at that pink slip. Later.

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Once John was finally asleep, Cynthia locked herself in the bathroom, and pulled the pink paper out of her bra. It was warm from being in there; she unfolded it, and felt her heart sink when she first noticed the date printed at the top.

JUNE 1ST, 2017

CYNTHIA HAYES MISSING!

HAIR: BLONDE, usually worn in two pigtails

EYES: GRAY

HEIGHT: 5'1"

LAST SEEN: Albany, New York

SUSPECTED KIDNAPPER: Harold Williams, who goes by the name of "John." HE IS DANGEROUS.

IF YOU HAVE ANY INFORMATION, OR HAVE ANY SIGHTINGS OF THIS WOMAN OR MAN PICTURED ABOVE, PLEASE CONTACT LOCAL AUTHORITIES. THIS IS A WORLDWIDE SEARCH.

Tears started pouring down Cynthia's face as she put a hand over her mouth.

She knew she wouldn't have left Jamie, she knew there was something weird about this—

But her memory.

Oh god, her memory.

Cynthia dropped the missing persons paper in her lap and put a hand on her head. Where had her memories gone? Why couldn't she remember the last thirty years? Had she asked for her memories to be wiped, or had John—Harold—done that himself?

Oh god, what if he was trying to make her his own Winter Soldier, like her father had previously tried to do? As Cynthia cried while thoughts poured through her brain, she put both hands over her mouth to silence her sobs. This crazed man that had taken her, was keeping her from her family—

But wait.

She could escape.

Getting up from her spot on the bathtub, she kept one shaky grip on the paper, and used the other to open the door. But she gasped when John was on the other side of the door. He looked confused at first, but then cast his gaze down on the paper she gripped.

"Dammit, I should have known you were going to find that," John groaned. Sighing, he grabbed Cynthia by her hair, and dragged her over to the bed, despite her fights and protests. Throwing her onto the bed, John held up a remote, locking all the windows. Cynthia went to get out of bed, but John was faster, and he slammed the door shut, her palms falling onto it.

"No!" Cynthia roared, pounding on the door, before going over to the window. She got her elbow ready, and smashed it against the window, but howled in agony when she realized it was indestructible.

Lying down on the bed, Cynthia was alone with her thoughts as she cried. 

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RUH ROH!!!! 

( edited 8/22/19 )