His eyes lingered on the atlas, flicking to the finger and then back to the map in front of him. "California," he murmured. That would make sense. He paused, thinking it over. A hotel in California, if they were not out of time and space. He'd try to go and get away, but he would just come back. There was no escaping. "I did, yes. That's... A different country than where I was, but yes. I know it."

"Bucky," he said softly. "I... I'm Bucky. I wasn't from California, but... Yeah." Yes, he understood because yes, that was the world that he was from. He guessed, from the way that the man was speaking, that he did not. A place called California? Someone from Earth would not have phrased it like that. "Where are you from?"