“Bucky,” I reply, looking him over. He’s young. I wonder if I am, too. The way he carries himself, though, the look in his eyes- I’d bet money he only looks young. Which makes next to no sense. This doesn’t feel like a dream. I have to operate under the assumption that it isn’t one. This means it’s still my responsibility to stop that plane, but I will be damned if I can’t find some other way.

“I don’t know if this will make any sense to you, partner,” I tell him, rotating my shoulder a little, feeling the strap of the shield pull under the green of the army uniform that’s torn enough to show blue underneath in a few places.

“But I’m not letting that happen to you again. Not again.”