Murderer. His username on the watches is Murderer. It takes me a moment to remember; the conversation had veered away from the original purpose of texting pretty fast that day, and between all the innuendo and banana angst, it had been pretty easy to forget how it started.

Squirrel brains. Nazis.

He's pulled away, back into himself, and I have to remind myself it's got nothing to do with me. My being undead has nothing to do with Bucky, either; it's just how things are. But I would be lying if I said the look in his eyes doesn't have me a little scared about what he's about to tell me.

"Lied about killing Nazis, or lied about that being the extent of it?"