James has no certainty that Steve would remember, after all this. (I'll remember. No matter what. I keep notebooks full of memories, and I'll write everything down. You, him, Misty, Kitty. Steve's right. You'll always exist.)
He clings for another moment, trying not to take comfort from the guy who hijacked his brain. Or whose brain he hijacked. Whichever. But it does help. "I'm not sure I want you remembering this," he says out loud, a little bitterly. "Soldat's right. You got your own. Your. Bucky, right?"
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James has no certainty that Steve would remember, after all this. (I'll remember. No matter what. I keep notebooks full of memories, and I'll write everything down. You, him, Misty, Kitty. Steve's right. You'll always exist.)
He clings for another moment, trying not to take comfort from the guy who hijacked his brain. Or whose brain he hijacked. Whichever. But it does help. "I'm not sure I want you remembering this," he says out loud, a little bitterly. "Soldat's right. You got your own. Your. Bucky, right?"