#And a lot of googling of archival footage and historical subway maps and such.

[averbaldumpingground]

The sign reads Ocean Parkway.

Maybe those words are supposed to mean something. Back when the elevated line--

The thought is gone, a rustle of newspaper pages, lost to the cool April breeze and a trio of seagulls calling out from their perch on a crossbeam.

He's not sure why he's here.

The overhang and scaffolding, West Brighton Avenue. The women speaking Russian by the pharmacy, the blue sign as confused as all the words he's pretty sure he shouldn't understand.

"И я ему сказала--"

The highrises. He feels like maybe they shouldn't be here either.

"Доктор назначил операцию на 10 мая--"

Somebody double-parked an unmarked van. They used to--

He's sitting on a bench along the boardwalk. He sees someone is sketching to his right.

Hunched shoulders. Thin. Hair that--

"I'm sorry, would you mind taking a photo?"

Tourists. Chinese, he can tell by the accent. The little girl scribbling outside all the lines in her coloring book doesn't even look up. Neither does her grandfather from his copy of Di Tzeitung.

He hesitates before he reaches out. It's a nice camera. Semi-professional. The click of the lens as he adjusts it, waits for the family to--

It's still too cold to have his shoes off. Too cold for the water. Too cold--

Nathan's. He remembers Nathan's. The hotdogs cost a nickel. And they'd save up and treat the girls and--

The laughter's in his head. Warm, loud.

The street signs don't make sense now. This isn't where he knows that Luna Park was.

The lights are all turned off, but there's an ice cream truck on the corner, a group of teenage boys with their baseball gloves. The short one in the muddy jeans has got a bruise around his eye.

That smile is wrong though. It doesn't tug up just a little on the right. And then his sister yelled and he--

"Вам помощь нужна?" The woman with the stroller's asking.

He's struggling to breath.

"Вызвать мне скорую помощь?"

There's a crane. Construction behind him. The rattle of the subway cars. A mural with a Ferris wheel.

The woman's reaching for his arm.

His arm.

"Нет. Незачем. Это аллергия."

The pieces click in place. There was another train.

The woman doesn't look convinced, but then her toddler's grabbing for her purse with pudgy, chocolate-covered little hands.

He needs to get away. He needs to get away before he starts remembering again.

#fanfiction #Bucky Barnes #Winter Soldier #This post was brought to you by Taylor Swift. #And a lot of googling of archival footage and historical subway maps and such. #It took me like 15 minutes of googling to figure out when Nathan's raised their hotdog prices btw. #Very productive use of my evening. #Sorry for not making you my centerfold #Over and over #April 11 2023