Flickers | Bucky Barnes

The Things He Carries

She was going to hell.

She was going to the bottomless pit of angry flames and rot in there for all of eternity. She might even become a servant to god damn Lucifer because of her thoughts, as she sure as hell knew there wasn't a Crowley in hell. It seemed all ethics she gained flew out the window and she turned into a bimbo, or more accurately a dog salivating at the mouth at the site of a bone, or in her circumstance James' physique.

Her memory did not do her justice than again she didn't have that lingering fear that he could snap her neck at any moment. It seemed that lifting heavy metal beams and wooden planks was enough for him to maintain his mouth watering frame.

What was even worse she knew her slight ogling was obvious which was even more embarrassing. However, she doubted he could hear her heartbeat even with his scary heightened hearing, but he could read body language. That made her feel worst because he was her friend and she was practically lusting after him physically. But she wasn't blind. She was honest when she told him he was a dreamboat even with his whole caveman look considering she knew what was under all that long hair and ill-fitting clothing. He seriously needed a haircut as his hair was reaching past his sternum and she decided she would slowly work on convincing him he needed to work on his grooming skills. The only thing he sort of routinely kept in check was his facial hair especially as she remarked if he grew a beard his tan would be all types of fucked up. She remembered her mortification that she even swore in front of him but all he did was laugh. He gave a real genuine laugh that mirrored the one she seen of him in the video with Captain America at the Smithsonian. But she knew he really didn't care for aesthetic considering he wore long sleeve shirts. His seemingly natural tan skin seemed to have gone to hell right along with her.

Most importantly she already knew he was slightly out of his comfort zone, sitting in his dining chair, at his apartment with his shirt off letting her examine his left arm. He was sitting still staring blankly ahead although she knew he was aware of all her movement. His stance mirrored how he sat expressionlessly back at the DC Hydra base. He only talked when prompted, but other than thought she was being a Chatty Cathy hoping to distract herself enough from her gawking. She wouldn't be surprised if he had tuned her out. She should have done this at her place at least he would have had a TV to watch. Or maybe a radio, she realized when he came to her house he hadn't explored music. She knew she wasn't going to be much help with getting him up to date on that besides the most famous artists like Michael Jackson, The Beatles, or what not as besides 90s R&B that she enjoyed she stuck to alternative or Indie Pop. She knew music was different widely in production compared to his days, but in her opinion she believed he might like Bruno Mars though. She might start with his catalog after the initial MJ, Beatles, and Elvis introduction. But as she looked around his apartment he didn't even have a radio, she thought she might have saw a police scanner, but he didn't have anything. He took his cavemen look way too seriously. She wouldn't be surprised if next he replaced his newspaper drapes with leaves or straws and for pictures have cave drawings.

As she was feeling his spine and his ribs since they had reinforced his body with the titanium alloys to be able to support his left arm, she could tell he was extremely uncomfortable. She wasn't thoughtless and she knew James had to be experiencing a severe care of body dysmorphia when it came to his limb, especially now that he knew the reason Hydra gave him the most distinctive feature on his body. She couldn't fault him if some days he hated the limb. Though she couldn't see him outright rejecting it as she knew he still functioned pretty well with it and handling "fragile" things in regards to sensation and pressure. She had yet seen him accidently crush something even though she knew with a slap he could break someone's jaw while she was sure he could do that with his flesh hand as well.

She really wanted to ask him if he felt phantom pains but she thought that would be tactless and maybe not any of her concern.

She had performed a simple maintenance check on his arm and found he had no damage, which slightly shocked her considering he was battling Captain America and fell from a Helicarrier. But it wasn't like Hydra would give him shitty metal and she remembered after she was informed of him using his hand as a break when he flew from a car leaving scratched in the asphalt there wasn't any damage to his fingers. She gently probed his extremely warm skin as she was making sure his muscles and bones weren't becoming worn. Though she wasn't exactly too knowledgeable in that area in regards to the serum. His serum probably acted like an immunosuppressant in regards to his body accepting everything that came with his metal limb. It was better to be safe than sorry, but she couldn't ignore his tense posture. It reminded her when he told her that her fingers were warm.