“You look… older,” Bucky says, rolling one of his shoulders to relax. It’s just you—his younger sibling. You’re not going to hurt him. The last time he saw you’d barely been fourteen, now you’re a grown adult. It’s like he’s missed your entire life. He doesn’t know how to treat you.

And, somehow, you’d been frozen in time. He shifts in his chair, leaning closer to you. His eyes dart around the café for potential threats. “How are you here?” Bucky finally asks, because he has to know.