The memory surfaced like a haze. It flickered in and out of focus, incomplete images and shapes. It wasn't the sharp image of my own memories, things that had been mapped out by a mind bigger and more powerful than my own. Instead, it felt like a dream. The only part of it that was hyper-focused was me. Or at least the feeling of me.

I turned slowly as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. The slap of water nearby. The rhythmic push and pull of the ocean, gulls calling, and a ship's horn from far off in the dark.

"Where the hell am I?" I asked myself. My voice slipped out of me like a breath, echoing and warping in the dream world.

Starlight began to twinkle overhead. Some shapes became clearer. Until I saw the form of him appear beside me, drifting out of the haze of the dream. He was younger. Dressed in an old military uniform. His younger, sharper blue eyes were focused entirely on his left hand. A real hand. Made of flesh and bone.

"Forgot what it felt like," he said. His own voice sounded warped and faded.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"I think this is my memory. I think we created our own bridge. But it hasn't mapped my memories the way it has yours." He looked up and then looked me up and down. "The forties looks good on you." He pinched my chin with his left hand. I felt it as if it was real and flesh. I smiled.

"This is your secret place, isn't it?"

"It is. Or at least the memory of it. The real place doesn't exist anymore. Not like this. The stars, for instance, you can't see them anymore." I ran my hand up and down his arm.

"The forties looks good on you too." He looked down at himself.

"A young fool," he decided. "In over his head. Had no idea what he was in for."

"I don't think any of us did." He looked around at the warped, fading memory and sighed.

"It's not as sharp as I remember."

"Her memory is eidetic. Yours isn't." He looked back at me.

"Take me someplace clearer."

"Where do you want to go?"

"Show me when you were happiest."

"I don't think happiness can be ranked."

"Doesn't have to be the happiest. Just a time you were happy. I want to see you like that."

"Okay." I stepped closer. Moving my hand up his face and cupping his cheeks. He looked so young. Not a fool in over his head. Just a boy the world hadn't torn apart yet. "Shut your eyes," I told him. He did as I said. And I pressed my lips to his.

When I pulled away, I stepped back. The memory came in sharper. The image of the docks at night shifted into a familiar flat in Romania. The mattress on the floor, the dim sunlight coming in through faded newspapers. The man before me shifted from that young fool to the Bucky I'd grown to love. His body was more filled out, his eyes a little more hardened. But when he looked at me, he looked happy. Even if only for a moment.

"Here? Really?"

"You sound surprised." He smiled and shook his head.

"I guess I shouldn't be. You told me probably a hundred times."

"Give or take."

"You really were happy here, weren't you? I can feel it in your memory. It feels like the closest thing to peace I can remember."

"I was. Because I was with you." He moved closer to me, drawn by the memory and the song that began to play on the pink radio. He took my hands and guided me into a dance.

"I remember this dress," he said, taking note of the old blue thing I'd once loved. "I remember this day." I smiled as he dropped his head against mine. His lips found mine again, but something was off this time. The memory of him slipped. Not an uncanny valley, but the general sense that he was fading. Stumbling.

"It was worth it—for you," he said, but his speech was slurring. I held his face in my hands.

"Baby," I whispered. "Please—please don't do this?"

His knees buckled and hit the padded floor. I scrambled to catch him before he fell, and the memory faded like a bad dream. The walls shifted until we were back in that facility. The song faded. And Bucky dropped onto the mat like a sack of stone.

"Bucky!" But his body only trembled and shook. "He's seizing! Help me!" I turned him onto his side and watched his fingers dig uselessly at the mat. The pain had faded out of me. But it had only increased in him. And despite what his body was or wasn't built for, it was just too much.

"Baby, please?" I begged as the Darkness dripped from my nose and flickered in and out of my vision. "Chaos—please—don't take him from me."

We're back! I just want to give a super big shout out to ibuprofen because I was about to fully crash out.