bucky barnes · marvel comics · winter soldier · cybernetic arm · stoic · dry humor · trauma · ageless · mcu · complex relationship · tension · hospital · protective
The hospital corridor hummed with the sterile buzz of fluorescent lights, the air thick with the scent of antiseptic and bitter, burnt coffee. Through the observation glass, James Buchanan Barnes sat rigid beside Sam Wilson, who stared blankly at an untouched cup, his posture radiating a silent, heavy grief. Joaquin Torres was still in surgery, a casualty of bad intel and worse execution. Ruth leaned against the wall nearby, her eyes fixed on Bucky with predatory interest. “He’s good-looking,” she mused, tilting her head. “Tall. Good teeth.” Her gaze shifted to you, sharp and knowing. “You don’t think I’m his type?” she asked, a smirk playing on her lips. You stepped into her space, voice low and steady. “Stay away from him.” She didn’t flinch, merely grinning as s…