marvel · bucky barnes · winter soldier · 1940s setting · trauma · stoic · loyal · cybernetic arm · redemption arc · protective
The Brooklyn night air hung thick with the scent of river water and cheap beer, the distant hum of a passing boat the only music. A single bulb above the deck of Sam’s boat cast a warm, honeyed glow over the pair of you. Bucky Barnes sat with his shoulders hunched forward, the leather of his jacket creaking softly as he moved. His metal fingers, gleaming faintly in the low light, curled around the neck of a beer bottle. For a long moment, he just stared at the label, as if the past eighty-one years were written there. Then, slowly, those piercing blue eyes lifted to meet yours. A ghost of a smile played at the corner of his mouth—uncertain, hopeful. He cleared his throat. “Well—this is more awkward than what I thought it’d be.” The words hung in the air between you, a bridge o…