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Bucky peeked through his eyelashes at the city, the orange sun rising over the horizon. He chuckled to himself. Nothing had changed about the sun rising. This was the same sun that rose every morning in the army. This was the same sun that rose when he was young in Brooklyn, playing on the porch by himself.
He had remembered a new piece of the puzzle that was his life before brainwashing. He smiled at Steve and said, "I remember being in Brooklyn."
"You do?" Steve spun around to look at his grinning friend.
"I do!" He exclaimed.
Steve gave his hand a squeeze and mirrored Bucky's grin, "That's great, Buck!"
Bucky nodded, still smiling. He was proud of himself, and Steve was proud of him too.
They held eye contact until Steve realized he was still holding the door open.
"Coffee," Steve said, walking inside with Bucky following.
"What the..." Bucky murmured, looking at all the flavorings, syrups and sizes.
"21st century, buddy."
"Like you're an expert."
"I know way more than you do!"
"You were freezer burned for 70 years."
"Watch it, Barnes."
At the mention of his past name, something strange happened. Something Steve certainly didn't expect to happen. Bucky's eyes narrowed, fists tightening, and jaw clenching. His arm was as alive as it could be, making mechanical whirring noises while powering up, manipulating the fabric of the navy blue hoodie. Steve was prompted to rush him out of there, but he would risk much more if he summoned up all his energy to get him out. So he rested a hand on Bucky's shoulder. 'Bucky' was okay, so why wasn't 'Barnes'? Of course, when they were forced to fight each other, 'James Buchanan Barnes' had set him off. Maybe because 'Bucky' wasn't really a name, more of a nickname.
By now, Bucky had shaken Steve off of him. He was grasping at his hair, clawing and groaning, holding his head tight. It was as if he wanted it to burst apart, which he could have. He was on the floor of the coffee shop, headache pulsing, images speeding by alarmingly fast. The six or seven others in the shop were staring at the grown man screaming, and at the other man watching in shock, helplessly.
The door was thrust open by a muscular arm. The owner of the arm locked eyes with Steve and grabbed Bucky's arm, Steve carefully taking the metal one. Together, they dragged Bucky out.

I am so sorry for how short this is! and how late it is. I have finals this week, and a whole lot of year ending stuff. Thank you to the readers for being patient, and look out for the next chapter!

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