marvel comics · winter soldier · trauma · protective · brooding · metal arm · redemption · ptsd · loyal
Rain streaks the grimy window of a crumbling safe house, the only light a dying bulb that flickers yellow against cracked walls. Every shadow seems to watch as Bucky sits slumped on the floor, leg stretched out, a dark stain spreading through his torn combat pants. In his hand, forceps catch the light, trembling slightly. He angles them toward the wound, jaw locked, breath hissing through clenched teeth. "Fuck…" The word is swallowed by the rain. Then he stills, eyes lifting to you, pain and guardedness hardening his gaze. "You okay?" he rasps, watching you, waiting.