BURNT EDGES ✦ BUCKY BARNES

THIRTY-THREE

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MARCH 26TH, 2017

THIS WAS THE first time Jamie had truly been left alone in this apartment without anyone to be there with him.

Bucky was off working with Steve, and Millie, Maisie was trying to work with Tony, and Jamie . . . He leaned his knees against himself, leaning against a dresser in the room. He cried for his mom to come back. He cried for the pain that felt, and mentally cursed and swore at the gods for making his family go through so much pain and suffering.

"We don't deserve this!" Jamie shouted, looking up towards the roof. "Screw you!"

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Cynthia's eyes shot open.

Where was she? Who was she? Sitting up carefully, Cynthia groaned at the slight headache she had. It felt like someone had set her brain on fire, had practically ripped it open. Shouldn't her healing power be working to make that go away? "Hello?" Cynthia called out.

Suddenly, pressing a palm to her forehead, fuzzy and cloudy memories started settling in. A slight feeling of realization and relief washed over her, yet something felt wrong. The year was 1987, wasn't it still? But why had she woken up in a house different from hers? She must have gone out drinking the night before. Cynthia got up from the bed, still rubbing her forehead as she called out again, "Is anyone here?"

"Darling?" An unfamiliar voice rang out, and then a man stepped into the hallway. "Oh good, you're awake. I wasn't sure if you'd wake up."

Confused, Cynthia asked, "Who . . . Who the hell are you? Where in the hell am I?"

"You're home, Cynthia." He replied gently. "I'm John. We're engaged . . . Are you doing okay?"

Cynthia's heart skipped a few beats, and she stuttered over her words as she said, "W-What?"

"Oh, I should've taken you to the hospital," John muttered under his breath, and took a step towards Cynthia. "You bumped your head a couple days ago." Cynthia started taking deep breaths, putting one hand on her chest, and the other on her forehead. Why couldn't she remember?

"I'm sure this is hard for you to all process, especially after you bumped your head." John said, once again walking towards her down the hallway. Cynthia felt stuck; frozen in the presence of this man—John. "I've made your favorite meal, if it makes you feel better," John gently said, and Cynthia nodded, silent, and let John lead her down the hall. What the hell was happening?

"Do . . . Do you have any pictures of us?" Cynthia asked quietly as they ate. "I need . . . Something to refresh my memory, like a picture, or maybe a ring, or something like that." Folding her hands together, and then resting her chin on them, Cynthia looked at this man who claimed she loved him, yet she felt nothing but fear towards him, and she had no idea why.

The sunlight streamed through the nearby windows, some of them showing a distant beach, which Cynthia reminded herself she wanted to visit. "Some of our stuff is still going through the move," John said sympathetically, taking one of Cynthia's hands in his, and squeezing it. "But soon, darling. We'll have everything soon."

But Cynthia couldn't help but feel like this was a mad man talking to her; not a loving man trying to comfort her. Edginess pressed itself into her mind, and she told John, "Why did I leave Jamie?"

The question stopped John short. "You . . . Left him with that friend of yours," He lied, "You decided you weren't ready enough to be a mother, especially when I told you so."

"And why would I listen to you?" Cynthia ripped her hand out John's grasp, and snapped, "I don't even know you—" The spark of flames distracted her focus from her anger towards John to the flame that had lit itself in her fingers.

Gasping and standing up so fast that her chair fell back, Cynthia cried, "Make it . . . Make it stop!"

"Only you can do that, Cynthia," John said, his tone harsher than it was before. Cynthia felt sick as she tried to make it stop. Stressing over it made her press her fiery palms to the sides of her head, and she screamed in pain, wishing for her healing power to start working, to take away her pain, like it always did. Heal me, heal me, heal me, She begged in her mind, as tears slipped down her face.

"Cynthia, you're going to burn out, stop!" John got up from his seat, and walked over, resting a hand on her back.

And in response, Cynthia collapsed into exhaustion.

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When Cynthia woke up, she realized she didn't have any dreams.

Walking into the bathroom, she saw that her skin had tanned. Frowning and looking in the mirror, Cynthia noticed that she had new freckles—ones she never had before. Coming out of the bathroom, Cynthia called out, "John? I need your help."

About a minute later, she could hear John's footsteps down the hallway. "What is it, dear?" John asked, and Cynthia replied, "Do you have an ultrasound?"

Frowning, John asked her, "Why?"

"I think I'm aging, again," Cynthia explained. "All of a sudden, I'm tanner. And I've gotten more freckles in the last hour."

Bringing her face towards the bathroom light, John looked at her, and grinned. "Well, would you look at that. Your healing power has finally fixed your hormones."

Cynthia tried to smile, but she didn't want to. Partially because burning out her hormones had been her idea, and Bucky had helped her with that. So she wanted to keep it that way . . . "Maybe I can burn them out, again," Cynthia said, taking John's hands away from her face, and looked away.

"And why would you want to do that?" John asked, and Cynthia glanced at him, and swore she saw Bucky for a second.

"I don't want to age," Cynthia stubbornly replied, "I just . . . Don't."

After a couple moments of silence, John said, "Well. Alright, then. Let's go burn them out again."

It took Cynthia a few minutes to remember her calculations she had made for how long she had to stay under the trance of the electricity. Hooking her up gently, Cynthia still couldn't get the feeling of fear out of her body as John interacted with her.

When everything was all ready, John had his hand on the switch, and he said, "Ready?"

Almost instinctively replying, "Burn my edges, soldier," Cynthia had to stop herself, and say something else.

"Fire me up."

( edited 8/22/19 )