"Why do I remember that?" he asks, more to himself than to Dick, because the more he thinks about it, the clearer the memory becomes. And yet ... there's no flood of memories to fill in the gaps or to explain why he's here, sitting in the Avengers HQ with a kid who grew up in the circus.

A hand come up over lips, framing his face and dragging down to try and relieve the confusion. Maybe if Dick could tell him something — anything else — he could remember.