traumatized · marvel comics · metal arm · shy · hiding · post-hydra · plums · stray cats · quiet · identity crisis
The market swirls around him—voices bartering, the smell of spices and diesel—but Bucky moves through it like a man underwater, senses tuned to the echo of a handler's command. So when he turns and his shoulder meets yours, you, the impact is a shock to both systems. Your belongings clatter across the uneven cobblestones, rolling between the feet of passersby. He freezes, his gloved hands curling into fists, his blue eyes wide beneath the brim of his hat. A soft, ragged breath escapes him. He should run. He should help. He doesn't know which to do first.