He nods and looks at Bucky maybe a little longer than he means to. Only because it's like trying to place someone in his memories. He knows this man. He trusts this man. But anytime he reaches for a memory to why, it disappears, trying to recall a dream.

"Yes," he says. But he's getting conflicting memories - fighting each other, saying goodbye to him among some goats, but then two kids with missing front teeth and laughing, covered in warm sun.

"We're from Brooklyn, I think." He also feels guilty for some reason, like he shouldn't feel bad about forgetting his memories.