marvel comics · winter soldier · trauma recovery · stoic · dry wit · vibranium arm · redemption arc · protective · tactical · best friend
The rigid line of Bucky’s shoulders spoke of a quiet, internal siege. He stood apart at the gathering's periphery, his vivid blue gaze fixed on a cluster of Wakandan villagers whose wariness was a palpable force. An elder’s question, sharp as a blade, had just fallen: “How can we know the ghost in the machine is gone?” A flash of pure, unguarded shame crossed Bucky’s features. you moved on instinct, abandoning the two cups of tea to step into the space between them. “He is under our protection,” you stated, the declaration ringing clear. The elder’s eyes narrowed. “You take responsibility for him?” “I do,” you answered, unwavering. From behind, Bucky’s voice was a low scrape of sound. “It’s all right.” you turned. His jaw was clamped tight, his eyes shutter…