WHO THE HELL IS BUCKY?
Who's to say who's right or wrong Whose course is braver run Still we are, have always been Will ever be as one
practicing my linework with none other than cap & friends… this was remarkably fun!
Steve just keeps coming back for it as Bucky gets more and more distressed. He pulls his mask off, drops his shield through an opening in the floor, and says “I’m not gonna fight you.”
STEVE, NO. FIGHT HIM, MAKE HIM UNCONSCIOUS, BRING HIM HOME, GIVE HIM SOUP.
5 minutes in…
10 minutes in (you know the scene)
15 minutes in
For the rest of the movie
End of movie
As Bucky starts to come back to himself, he stops ripping the left sleeve off of his shirts. Steve doesn’t notice right away how Bucky pulls down at the cuff of his sweatshirts or wears gloves when he doesn’t need them. But then Steve realizes all at once, with crushing clarity, that Bucky is ashamed of the parts of himself that have changed. Constant reminders of the hurt and destruction, a metal whir of joints the cacophony of death in his ears.
So quietly, Steve goes to Tony’s lab and asks if he can have some pots of metal paint. Tony offers to have Jarvis paint it, but Steve politely declines. He finds Bucky in the workout room, a towel draped over his head as he catches his breath. Steve straddles the bench to face Bucky’s side. “May I?” he asks, and Bucky could never say no to Steve, even when he wasn’t entirely himself.
The shirt comes off, and Bucky starts shaking faintly despite the drying sweat on his skin. Where metal meets skin looks painful, the area healed in a gnarled knot of scar tissue, but Steve is silent as he uncovers the paints. Bucky can’t stand to look, staying stock still as Steve paints with quiet intensity.
They stay like that for an hour, and eventually Bucky’s gaze slides over to study Steve’s face. His brows are furrowed in concentration, but the curve of his lips is content. When he recaps the paint, Steve blows on the drying paint, and Bucky shivers as he imagines he can feel the ghost of cool breath against skin.
"All done," Steve says, squeezing Bucky’s metal forearm before leaving him alone to his thoughts. Bucky almost doesn’t have it in him to look. The arm has become a constant source of pain for him — not in the physical sense, but because it’s too hard not to remember what he’s become. What he became.
Finally the curiosity wins out, and he approaches the mirrored wall of the workout room with an illogical sense of dread heavy in his guts. He turns to the side, and his breath catches. The once red star decorating his shoulder has transformed into the purest white, enclosed in a blue circle rimmed with red. He looks down at it, wanting to see it on himself and not just in the mirror, and tears prick the corners of his eyes. Because Steve’s shield is an unmistakable icon, and now it’s there to protect him from himself.