Chapter Four

FOUR YEARS LATER

JUST OUTSIDE WASHINGTON, D.C.

The road stretched out in front of him, seemingly endless. He ran a hand roughly over his face before pulling the ball cap lower on his brow. Where did he even start, how could he move forward from here? He knew he had to get away from DC as fast as possible so as the suburbs became more and more rural he was aware of the tightness in his chest slowly beginning to release.

The silence, however, was deafening.

He looked at the dash of the pick up truck he had stolen. He found the dial of the radio after only a few missteps and turned it on, hoping the channel it was on would be ok, not the blaring noise people seemed to call music now.

It was N.P.R. ...could be worse.

For a while he just drove east mindlessly, then eventually something that was said on the radio really caught his attention and he turned up the dial.

"So, Dr. Wayne, you have had some major break throughs in your work in the past year." The interviewer sounded like he was about one hundred years old, the driver chuckled, who was he to talk?

"Yes, George," Dr. Wayne was a woman it turned out, her voice seemed to say upper class, good education...obviously, "My team and I have had some startling leaps forward in our research and are eager that this will bring all our collective hard work to fruition faster than any of us could have imagined."

"Well, Dr. Wayne, for our listeners out there who are eagerly listening for themselves or for a loved one, maybe you could explain what your research is hoping to unlock."

"Well, George, we are focused on the brain, and what we like to refer to as genetic memory."

"Alright, now bear with me here Doctor, but what is genetic memory for our audience?"

"Of course George. Let me explain it from the beginning, this all started for me when I was little, people were constantly telling me just how much I looked like my mother and especially my grandmother, we all know that comes from genetic traits, predispositions if you will. But people also commented on how I not only looked like them, I even acted liked them, said certain words like them, mannerisms and so forth, I am sure you have a family member that is similar,"

"Oh yes, you get my daughter on the phone, couldn't tell the difference from her mother."

"Well, there you go. " He could hear the excitement in the doctor's voice as she spoke about her work. "How is it that I can have the same behaviours as my grandmother when she died years before I was even born? My research leads me to believe that our memories are not only thoughts but can be quantified as a physical genetic trait that is passed down in our DNA, which also leads me to believe that the memories we hold in our minds can also be treated as a genetic memory and be brought back into our mind,"

"So I won't lose my car keys in the morning?"

She chuckled good-naturedly, "Well, my attention is focused on bigger fish at this point but you never know."

"So, Dr. Wayne, those bigger fish, safe to say you are discussing Alzheimer's?"

"Yes, George, that is definitely one of our main focuses along with dementia, but this research is also being applied to other brain conditions that people struggle with everyday including management of PTSD, Stockholm Syndrome, Amnesia." He glanced at the radio, "This research could change a great number of people's lives. We are very excited."

"Well, Wayne Enterprises certainly is lucky to have you bringing them to the forefront of science again."

"I don't know if I would go that far George, but I am certainly happy to be at my families company, working very hard."

"I am sure your father would be very proud of you,"

There was a slight hesitation before she answered, "Oh, I am positive he is very proud,"

"Well, thank you so much for joining us today on the National Public Radio. We have been talking to Dr. Madeline Wayne, here in Gotham, where she is changing the way we think about memories. To learn more about Dr. Wayne's research please visit our website or-"

He switched off the radio and sat back in the drivers seat.

James Buchanan Barnes let his fist flex on the top of the steering wheel. He knew his name was James Buchanan Barnes because of the Captain America section in the Smithsonian Museum he had been in earlier that day. Somethings he felt like he knew, like he had grown up in Brooklyn, other things, like his parents names, he didn't know if he remembered them or whether he had just read them in the museum and thought he knew them.

The thing he knew though...they were terrible. The memories that were locked in his brain, things he knew for a fact were true. It made him sick. How can that be one persons reality? He glanced at the radio even though it was turned off.

Bucky... That was what he had been called, Bucky. Bucky reached across the truck to the glove compartment and saw what he was looking for, a road map. He unfolded it on the steering wheel and glanced at it.

He looked up at the next exit and made a snap judgement, he turned the wheel and headed north, towards Gotham.

Bucky didn't know much at this point. He knew that he wasn't always like... Like this... He wasn't always ...evil. But he couldn't remember, not honestly. He needed to know his own truth. And he had no idea how to go about that.

This Dr. Madeline Wayne, with her genetic memory research... Maybe it was a dead end, maybe she couldn't help him. Maybe she wouldn't want to. But at this point it seemed like his only possible hope.

He looked at his left arm resting on the open window of the car door, the black leather glove encompassing his hand. Gotham was his only hope.

A/N: And finally Bucky has arrived, stayed tuned for me, and please let me know what you think! Thanks -Cat