He doesn’t remember much, at first. A name, a handful of faces, a feeling. A lot of feelings, actually, making it hard to figure out what’s causing which. He can’t go to Steve, not yet. He knows that. At best, Steve will blame himself for what’s become of Bucky. At worst? Steve won’t like who Bucky is now.
Bucky isn’t even sure he likes who he is right now. He’s still trying to figure that out.
He sees her face in a dream at first, something about the thunderstorm reminded him of her. Then he finds her on a history site, alongside the Invaders. Sparky? What kinda name is that? A child’s voice echoes in the distance. Well, what kind of codename is Bucky--your actual name? Edna’s voice.
Edna, of course, is dead. Most people he knew are. Ghosts, just like he is. But she has a granddaughter, he finds after some digging. And so he goes. He’s not sure why, but he’s going. Following one strand of feeling, one memory, and hopefully he can slowly detangle the rest from there.
He finds Elva’s house and knocks. He doesn’t really consider that he’s in no state to actually meet someone right now, his outfit currently a mix of commando gear and a worn jacket, gloves hiding his arm for now. Hair’s a mess and there’s scraggly stubble; he hasn’t found a good place to stay yet and it’s showing.