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APRIL 26, 2014 -- 2:30 PM

G: My name is Judy Glasow. I’m a doctor. I -

B: You work for SHIELD.

G: Yes - I did. But SHIELD doesn’t exist anymore.

B: What you call it doesn’t matter. You work for Fury.

G: Yes.

B: You didn’t lie. That’s good.

G: Can you tell me your name?

B: I don’t have one.

G: Everyone has a name.

B: I don’t.

G: You must have had one at some point.

B: Maybe.

G: What if I told you that I knew it?


G: You wouldn’t have come here if you didn’t think we could help you find the answers you were looking for. And we do have them. You’re an American. You were a soldier in the United States Army and you were captured by HYDRA in 1945. Your name is -

B: Stop.

G: Sorry?

B: Shut up.


G: Why did you come here, if not to find out who you were?

B: I don’t know.

G: Tell you what. How about I write your - the name down on a piece of paper, OK?

B: OK.

G: There. Look at it, don’t look at it – whatever you want.

B: OK.

G: This - this is going to take time. We don’t know much more about what was done to you than you do right now.


G: For what it’s worth, I think you made the right choice in coming here.

B: The right choice.

G: Yes.

B: The right choice.


APRIL 29, 2014 – 9:00 AM

R: Hi.

B: Hello. I shot you.

R: Uh, yeah. Um. You did. But then you saved me.

B: I remember. I remember that.

R: Good, that’s good.


R: Do you -- do you know why you saved me?

B: I know you.

R: Yeah. Yes. You know me.

B: I tried to tell them that I knew you. But they –

R: What?

B: I can’t remember. I can’t remember.

[here Barnes begins speaking Russian. our translator has informed us that it is too quiet to be intelligible.]

R: Hey, it’s OK. That’s OK. Bucky, it’s over. That’s over. It’s (unintelligible)

[Russian continues for approx. 10 more seconds.]


B: “Bucky.” That’s not the name on the paper.

R: On -- what?

B: The woman wrote a name on a paper. Said it was my name.

R: Oh. Right. It’s a nickname, Buck. It’s what your friends call you.

B: That’s what you said on the ship. That we were friends.

R: We were friends, we are friends. You’re my best friend.

B: My job was to kill you.

R: Yeah, but you didn’t.

B: Captain, you seem to have very low standards for friends.


APRIL 29, 2014 -- 2:30 PM

G: How are you feeling?

B: I don’t know.

G: Steve Rogers came to see you this morning, right?

B: Yes.

G: How did you feel about that?

B: I don’t know.

G: Well, you’re going to have to give me more to work with than that.

B: I think I might have known him before.

G: So you’re starting to accept there was a before.

B: Yes.

G: That’s good. How do you feel when you see Steve?

B: I don’t -

G: Try not to jump to saying you don’t know. You know more than you think you do.

B: I feel - I feel like there’s something pushing at the back of my brain.

G: Good. That’s a very good sign. It means that at least some of the memories you can’t access haven’t been lost completely.

B: Well, I can’t find them. And even if - I already feel like I have too many memories. There’s nothing to focus to on, no mission, just noise. The only thing that makes sense is -

G: Is what?

B: Nothing. Nothing makes sense.

G: It will. Give it time.

B: Dr. Glasow, I have no idea what kind of person I am, but something tells me I’m not a patient one.


[NOTE: Natasha Romanoff visited Barnes April 28 at 6:00 AM. Their conversation lasted for ten minutes, but the recording equipment malfunctioned during the entire hour. It’s unclear whether this was an accident or deliberate.]


APRIL 30, 2014 – 9:00 AM

B: You’re the only thing that makes sense.

R: Did you remember something?

B: No. But I know you. And I know I want to hurt the things that hurt you. That makes sense to me.


MAY 2, 2014 -- 2:30 PM

G: I’m going to play you some music, OK?


G: Just listen, OK?

[music begins]

G: You recognize it.

B: I guess I do.

G: This song came out in 1936. You would have heard it on the radio.

B: Well, it’s corny as hell.

G: [laughter] You could say that. Music is often used in therapies for patients with, uh, dementia because it’s calming, and because there’s evidence that musical memory is stored differently than other memories, like memories of particular people and events. An example would be an Alzheimer’s patient who remembers the tune to a song from their childhood, but not their spouse’s name. The neurological basis of your lack of memory is different - you have no loss in overall cognitive function - but I’m hoping that incorporating music into our sessions may help all the same. It might even be more beneficial for just that reason.

B: Is it -

G: The neural scarring from HYDRA’s procedure is healing remarkably quickly, all things considered. I apologize, go on.

B: I just wanted to ask if it was raining.

G: What makes you think it might be raining?

B: I don’t - maybe it’s the song. I don’t know. It’s raining, and I’m washing dishes. My hands are in the sink.

G: Do you have the sensation of seeing this, or are you just recalling it?

B: I - I don’t know. I think the second one. Is it real?

G: That’s difficult to determine for sure. Can you think of anything else? Any other images or sounds or feelings, even smells?

B: It’s raining, and I’m washing dishes.

G: I know.

B: And I’m afraid.

G: Afraid in the memory or afraid because of the memory?

B: I don’t know.

G: This is good. You just recalled a piece of memory that was supposed to be lost. That’s excellent. Now - I’m just reaching for my pen, I’m not going to hurt you - I think it may be a good idea to do another CAT scan, just to gauge -

B: No.

G: No?

B: I’m not getting in that machine again.

G: It’s perfectly safe. I’ll be there the entire time.

B: No.

G: Alright. Nobody’s forcing you to do anything. But you should think about discussing this memory with Steve when he comes, OK? He may be able to help you fill in some of the gaps.

B: He’s somebody important.

G: Yes, to a great many people.

B: That’s not what I meant. Before I came here, I went to the museums, I looked at the photographs…I understand who I’m supposed to be.

G: Do any of those things feel like they happened to you?

B: No.

G: Do you want to talk about any of them?

B: No.

G: That’s OK.

B: That woman, Agent Romanoff -- she isn’t like Steve Rogers.

G: How’s that?

B: She doesn’t want me to know that I’m supposed to know her.

[music shuts off]

G: You feel recognition when you talk to Agent Romanoff?

B: No, not beyond the latest mission. But I see that she comes expecting something, and that she leaves disappointed.

G: Have you spoken to her about this?


G: Would you like me to start the song again?


[music begins]


MAY 4, 2014 -- 6:00 PM

R: You know, when we were kids, you used to keep a journal. Not - not like a diary or anything. You’d just put down interesting stuff you heard or, um, details about people you saw. You’d write out all the stuff you wished you could say to people, like the girl you liked but couldn’t pluck up the courage to talk to or the boys at the home who called you a k-ke. And stories, too, things you made up about us becoming traveling vagabonds or going to the moon. Sometimes I’d add illustrations to them. When you got older, people thought you were such a smooth-talker, but I think it was just because you’d been practicing for so long. I mean, not just what to say and how to say it, but how to stand and look so nobody messed with you, how to throw the right punch at the right time to end a fight. Me, I just ran headfirst into everything, screw practice. That’s why I needed you, to pull me out again, I guess. I wish I had that journal, I wish I could give it to you, but it’s - what is it that they say? “Lost to time.” I guess a lot of things are. Anyway, I just. I mi - I. Jeez, talking to you through glass is awful. They let the therapist in the room with you, don’t they?

B: I didn’t recently try to kill the therapist.

R: You never went for a headshot.

B: Something tells me you’re going to be the only person who makes that distinction.

R: [laughter] You’re probably right.


R: Bucky, you know that I want to hurt the things that hurt you, too, right? If you know me, even a little bit, you gotta know that. It’s OK, you don’t have to say anything. I just...I wanted to make sure that was clear. I have to go now, but I’ll be back in a couple of days, OK? I’ve asked them to call me if anything...if anything changes. Right. OK.


MAY 5, 2014 – 12:00 PM

[note: following translated from Russian until specified]

ROM: Having fun?

B: I have a television and some books.

ROM: Do you watch the reality shows? Best part of America, I’m telling you.

B: What can you tell me about the Red Room?

ROM: Cake Boss? The Bachelor?

B: Natalia.

ROM: People don’t call me that anymore.

B: Do you plan on avoiding the subject forever?

ROM: Yes.

B: Why?

ROM: It’s something I’m trying to leave behind.

B: That’s good for you, but it doesn’t help me. The information that the leftover SHIELD agents have is practically nothing. It’s useless.

ROM: Let’s go somewhere else, and we’ll talk about it.

B: Why? Just disable the recorder again.

ROM: No, it’s. It’s not a conversation I want to have through a window.

B: I can’t leave here.

ROM: Yes, you can. You walked in here, you can walk out whenever you want. You know it, I know it, that doctor knows it.

B: That’s not what I mean.

ROM: Suit yourself.

[following in English]

ROM: Piece of advice: you don’t need to put those pieces together. Talk to Steve, remember the good stuff first at least.


ROM: Just watch Cake Boss, will you? Last week, they made one of Obama’s face, it was pretty sweet.

B: Fine. I’ll watch the stupid show about the cake.

ROM: And then later, you’ll come talk to me.

B: Later, I’ll come talk to you.


MAY 5, 2014 -- 2:30 PM

B: I used to be somebody, right? That’s real. I went to school, and I enlisted in an army, and I wanted to go to the moon. I washed dishes. I washed dishes in cold water with - with soap, and I worried that somebody would catch a cold because the rain hadn’t let up. They took that away. And I didn’t care because I didn’t even know that it was gone.

G: How does that -

B: Don’t ask how that makes me feel, for fuck’s sake.

G: Do you mind if I play you another song?

B: Sure, knock yourself out.

[music begins]

B: I don’t feel anything.

G: It’s not like turning a switch, James.

B: It’s a good song for slow dancing. Not loud enough for -

G: For what?

B: It doesn’t matter.

G: Yes, James, it does matter. It matters very much.

B: I think, sometimes, the techs would play music when they put me in the chair. Not - not for me, for them. They’d crank it up real loud so they wouldn’t have to listen to me scream. I remember that. [Russian ] Mission report. Mission report. Wait. Wait. Please, wait. (unintelligible).

G: James? Listen to me. You are in a former SHIELD facility and you are safe. What’s my name?

B: Dr. Glasow.

G: Good.

B: It’s over. That’s over.

G: Yes.

B: I’m safe.

G: Yes, you’re safe.

B: But you’re not safe.

G: I’m armed.

B: In the .5 seconds it would take you to reach for your taser or your gun, I could already be in the middle of snapping your neck. After that, it would take me ten minutes maximum to kill everyone in this facility. You’re understaffed and disorganized, and this place is a backup for a backup. I should be somewhere where I can’t hurt anyone.

G: Are you planning to kill me?

B: No, but I’m afraid I will anyway.

G: May I point something out to you?

B: What? I - OK.

G: I’ve been calling you James this entire session. You haven’t batted an eyelash. Did you notice that?

B: No, I guess I - what does that have to do with anything?

G: I’ll see you tomorrow, James.


MAY 5, 2014 -- 8:00 AM

R: The future’s great, Bucky. You’re gonna love it, I promise you. We don’t have polio in this country anymore or - or TB, isn’t that amazing? And people have made their voices heard, people who couldn’t stand up before. And there’s seventy years of movies to catch up on, too. It’s not like things are perfect - sometimes things are awful - but we’ve moved forward and we’re still moving. There are good people here, Buck. It almost feels like home.


MAY 10, 2014 -- 2:30 PM

B: I’m not sure how many languages I speak.

G: Well, look at what you know and start from there.

B: I speak English, Russian, I definitely understand German and French. And sometimes, I dream that someone is speaking something else to me, and I understand it. It’s Yiddish, I think.

G: Yiddish. It could be one of your parents or your grandparents.

B: Could it?

G: Both of your parents immigrated through Ellis Island as children, sometime around 1900 from Jewish communities in Eastern Europe - where exactly is fuzzy, the records are messy, especially because they anglicized their names. Still, it’s, um, it’s very likely they would have been Yiddish speakers. I can bring you a picture of them if you like.

B: So, the woman I remember, that would be my mother.

G: Yes, it’s likely it is.

B: It’s likely.

G: Yeah.

B: You said there’s a picture I can have?

G: Yes. I’ll bring it the next time I see you.

B: Wait, are you lying to me? You’re lying to me. You said you wouldn’t lie.

G: I’m telling you the truth.

B: I’ve read about James Barnes. He was an Irish Catholic.

G: Oh. Yes, I - hey, you’re fine, listen - you lost both your parents when you were fairly young. Your sister was adopted out and you were put into a Catholic orphanage by the state. So you were raised as a Catholic after that point.

B: Is that the truth?

G: That is the truth.

B: That doesn’t seem fair.

G: It wouldn’t happen nowadays.

B: You’ll bring the picture.

G: I promise.


B: I think she used to tell stories. His - my mother. I remember, she would tell stories, she used to tell me about Noah and the Ark when it rained, she’d say that our room was going to float away. We’d curl up in the bed and pretend we were floating away down the street. She even embroidered little waves into the covers - I remember, they were blue. They were blue, and when the power went out we’d light candles and it would look like they were moving. It would look like - and she’d talk about King Arthur. I dream that she’s telling me a story about King Arthur fighting, she’s reading out of a book and King Arthur is fighting a dragon, and I’m small and it scares me but it’s OK because Arthur and his knights always win, they always win, three two five five seven, three two five five seven, three two five five seven -

G: James? Do you know where you are?

B: Where’s my sister?

G: What’s my name?

B: Dr. Glasow.

G: That was a big chunk of memory you just recovered.

B: Is my sister still alive?

G: Maybe you should catch your breath for a second.

B: Well?

G: Yes, she’s in her eighties now. She lives in New Jersey. Her name is Rebecca Proctor.

B: Can I have a picture of her, too?

G: Of course.

B: OK. OK.


G: How does it feel to remember?

B: I don’t know.

G: I have something for you, James. Have you considered writing down what you remember, or just what you feel? I think it could be helpful. It’ll help us to organize all the information you’re processing right now.

B: OK.

G: Good. You know, you should be proud of yourself.

B: I guess so. Dr. Glasow?

G: Yes?

B: Thank you.


MAY 12, 2014 -- 9:00 AM

B: I don’t think I ever believed in God.

R: No, I don’t think you ever did.


MAY 17, 2014 -- 5:00 PM

W: So, uh. Hey.

B: Oh. It’s you.

W: Yep.

B: You helped the Cap - Steve. You fly.

W: Yeah, that was me.

B: You’re a good fighter.

W: Um, thanks, I guess.

B: Why are you here?

W: Uh. You know, I’m not sure. I had all this stuff I was gonna say, but I can’t remember any of it now.

B: Welcome to the club.

W: [laughter] Jesus.

B: I’m sorry I kicked you off a building.

W: [laughter]

B: Steve Rogers thinks very highly of you. He says you’re a good friend.

W: Steve likes to see the best in people.

B: I’ve noticed that.

W: Which is why I - look, Steve’s been running on fumes ever since SHIELD collapsed. If he weren’t superhuman, he probably would’ve keeled over ten times by now. And he, he doesn’t see any version of this where you don’t get better, you know, where you’re not the same person that you were before. And I gotta know if that’s really a possibility.

B: I don’t know.

W: Seems like nobody knows anything these days.

B: Do you want my best guess?

W: Sure.

B: I’m in here somewhere, I just have to put the pieces together. OK? Tell Steve that.

W: Sure, man.

B: Good. Hey, Wilson.

W: Yeah?

B: Do you watch Cake Boss?


MAY 18, 2014 -- 3:00 AM

ROM: So, I know you’re asleep. Or maybe you’re faking it, I don’t know. Jesus, what am I doing here? Do you know how much of a hassle it was to break into this room in this facility in the middle of the night? I broke a nail. Do you remember (unintelligible)? Never mind, I know you don’t. That was the hardest part, you know. Knowing that you wouldn’t remember me enough to miss me. I tried to go after you, after Odessa, but the trail went cold. And, anyway, what would I have said? Steve’s the one who makes the big speeches about his feelings. I actually think he believes everything he says, about hope and freedom and bald eagles flying into the sunset. And that makes the difference, right? When he says it, even someone like me could fall for it. And so when he says you’re going to be OK again, I believe it. I really do.


MAY 21, 2014 -- 2:30 PM

B: I’ve been writing down the things that I remember.

G: Wow. You’ve really filled this notebook up.

B: I don’t think the problem is that the memories aren’t there. They’re just in pieces.

G: Like a puzzle?

B: No, like, like somebody took a car apart and then they left half of the pieces lying around and replaced them with things that didn’t belong. Sometimes, I write things down and I don’t even understand what I’m writing.

G: You’ve written a lot about your fall in ‘45 here. Is that something you’re prepared to talk about?

B: I wake up in the middle of the night and write about it, but then I don’t remember it in the morning.

G: Is the war the period you’re having the most trouble recalling?

B: There’s still so much I don’t remember.

G: That’s true, but from what I can tell, you still have no memories of the war at all, at least none that you can consciously call upon.

B: I guess so. Yeah, that’s true.

G: Look, James, your condition is pretty much unprecedented, so everything we’re doing here is guesswork. Your memories might not ever come back completely - in which case, the most we can hope for is to encourage them as much as we can, and to get you stable enough to feel safe leaving here. But they might also totally come back - either in short bursts as they have been, or we could stumble on a linchpin that...opens the floodgates, so to speak. If there is something like a linchpin, your memory of falling off that train might be it. After all, according to the records we’ve been able to get, that’s most likely the moment of your initial amnesia.

B: Right, OK.

G: But here’s the thing: you have to want to remember.

B: Right.

G: Do you want to remember?


MAY 24, 2014 -- 9:00 AM

B: What was it like when I fell?

R: What do you mean?

B: I mean, what did it look like? What was the last thing you said to me?

R: I told you to grab my hand, but you couldn’t reach.

B: And then I fell.

R: And then you fell. God, Bucky, I’m -

B: Please don’t tell me you’re sorry.

R: But I am. I’m so sorry. For everything, none of this should have happened. You, you didn’t deserve any of it.

B: I don’t think it was your fault.

R: But it is.

B: Let’s talk about something else, OK? Tell me about a good memory.

R: Bucky.

B: Come on, I want to hear about something good.

R: Aren’t I supposed to be helping you with -

B: Fuck it. I’ve been remembering nothing but the painful stuff for weeks. Please?

R: Bucky - something’s happened.

B: What do you mean, something’s happened?

R: Look, this is all unofficial, right? You came here, and Fury found some people he still trusted to help you out, but we don’t exactly have a lot of resources, and the government, they’re trying to clean up after the whole SHIELD mess, and -

B: Get to the point, Steve.

R: Well, they’re starting to ask questions. About you. If they find out you’re here, they’re going to want to take you, and then I don’t know what’ll happen.

B: It has to happen at one point or another, doesn’t it?

R: Why are you so calm about this?

B: They’ll want to hold me responsible, right? For all the things that I did?

R: Bucky, those things weren’t --

B: Maybe I should be.

R: Those things weren’t your fault.

B: Listen to me. I did all those things. And maybe I rode roller coasters and wrote stories and smoked camels and all that stuff you remember, too, but I also - I did all those other things you don’t want to think about. I don’t remember all of them, but I know that I did them.

R: It wasn’t your fault.

B: I don’t think you get to decide that.

R: Jesus.

B: Tell me about something good.

R: Seriously?

B: Seriously.

R: Um. F--k, I don’t know. It’s been hard to think of good things lately. The other day, Natasha and Sam showed up at my door with ice cream, probably out of pity. It’s weird, to have friends in the, I keep wanting to call it the future. Um. OK. What do you want to know?

B: What’s my favorite food?

R: What? That’s so boring!

B: Not when you have no idea what it is, jerk.

R: [laughter] Uh, maybe popcorn? Or ice cream?

B: Wow, my favorite foods are awful.

R: No, they just - they’re doing stuff foods. You know? You have popcorn when you go to the movies and you get ice cream when you go to the pier.

B: [laughter] Right, until you get us into a fight and I drop my cone everywhere - waste of f--king money.

R: That - you remember that?

B: Um. I. Yes. Sometimes, it happens like that, all of a sudden.

R: Man, even I don’t remember what that fight was about.

B: I just remember dropping my ice cream, and having to clean up your bloody nose.

R: Jeez, sorry, you wanted a good memory, not one of my busted-up face.

B: No, it is a good memory. We won the fight.

R: Yeah, we did, didn’t we?

B: We did.


R: You were dead, Buck.

B: Yeah.

R: Jesus, I lo - shit.

B: What else did we do that day?

R: Uh, well, it turned out our dates had stood us up anyway, so we just rode the ferris wheel as many times as we could afford and then went home.

B: That sounds nice.


R: It was.

[microphone completely muffled next 45 seconds - possible technical error or hand placed over receiver]

R: (unintelligible) home?

B: I don’t know.


MAY 24, 2014 -- 2:30 PM

B: James Barnes was a killer before HYDRA ever touched him. Me, I was. Steve knows that.

G: And?


MAY 25, 2014 -- 11:00 AM

B: I’m sorry I shot you.

ROM: It’s fine, as long as I get to shoot you back.

B: What?

ROM: I’m kidding.

B: Oh. You know, I’m not an expert, but I think most people’s faces look different when they’re kidding than when they’re serious.

ROM: Sounds boring.

B: I’m sorry that I didn’t miss you.

ROM: It was a long time ago.

B: What was?

ROM: I should get going. I’m due on another continent tonight.

B: I can still come talk to you - later?

ROM: Yeah, I might feel like showing up.

B: Coffee?

ROM: Sure. Coffee. And James? This is the beginning of your life. That stuff they did to you, that wasn’t your fault. Trust me.

B: I thought you were supposed to be an untrustworthy person.

ROM: Not about this.


MAY 26, 2014 -- 4:00 AM

B: The snow’s just so white, you know? Back home, give it a day after it falls and it’s brown from the cars and the trash and people, but here there’s nobody to even make a footprint, it’s just white and it goes on forever, I can see the mountains from the train and they go on - they go on forever. I’m not going to be able to shoot fast enough. I’m not going to be able to hold on. I’m going to die in this snow, in this f--king snow. I’m not going home. I’m not going home. I always knew I wasn’t going home, but I didn’t picture - just falling, like this. Lying in the snow watching the train disappear. Steve should draw this, it’s - it’s beautiful, even if it’s f--king unfair. No one will say Kaddish for me, or give me communion. I don’t really know what either of those things mean, but it still feels unfair. I’m not sorry I’m here, if I could do it over, I’d wade into this shit show all over again, but f--k, I just want to go home. I’m so cold, and I want to go home.


MAY 26, 2014 -- 8:00 AM

W: Look, a team’s coming today, they want to transfer you to somewhere out of the country.

B: And?

W: So, we gotta leave now. Steve thinks he can sort this out, but not unless we buy some time.

B: Why are you helping me?

W: Steve trusts you, I trust Steve, simple as that. Besides, we don’t know who to believe nowadays. These people could be anybody taking you anywhere, using you for anything. Do you get what I’m saying?

B: Yes.

W: So are you coming or not?

B: I don’t know.

W: Look, Natasha helped us sort out a place. You’ll be away from people as much as you need to be, Steve’ll be there, I - I’ll be there. We’re not gonna let anything happen.

B: Is that a promise, Wilson?

W: Yeah, that’s a promise.


B: OK. But you’d better not be flying us to wherever it is.

W: [laughter] You can count on that.

B: Good.

W: This is the right choice, James.

B: Nobody ever called me James.

W: Bucky, then. Nice to meet you, Bucky.

B: Nice to meet you, too.

[recording cuts out]