He doesn't flinch but it's a near thing. Something swirls unhappy in his gut, a dread that has been sitting stagnant for weeks upon weeks. They did something to him and his vague memories are nothing to the darkness of his nightmares.

And here is a man with his face and a metal limb and Bucky doesn't know what to do with that.

"You're me."

His voice is dull, flat. "You are, aren't you?"