[He can't help it - she touches his arm and he flinches, jerking it back and hoping she won't be able to tell that it's different even though she probably will.

(The glove doesn't cover everything, for one. His wrist's exposed when its bent, and the glint of metal's unmistakable.)

It takes a shaky breath and a nervous swallow to get talking again, and he picks a spot on the table to stare at, like maybe that's going to make this easier.]

They wiped my memories. They couldn't leave me on my own for too long, or I'd start putting some stuff back together. [He frowns, embarrassed.] Not a lot. [There were other times it happened, but the one that stands out the strongest is the fact that some part of him had known Steve, even after everything. He'd recognized him twice, and the second time, that hadn't been enough to stop him from trying to kill him.

He shakes his head, angry and disgusted with himself, not sure what to do.]

I should've fought back harder.