Walks calmed him down.

With the modern world, with all overwhelming-ness of it, Bucky found solace in roaming New York city whenever he felt trapped-which was a lot.

He wasn't stupid. He'd read the psych evaluation files the SHIELD doctor who'd examined him had made. He wasn't naive enough to think no one expected him to explode one day. It was tempting. The thought of actually giving them what they wanted bought him enough satisfaction that he was able to keep himself in check.

Steve helped, too, no matter how much Bucky would deny it.

Steve Rogers fought tooth and nail to get Bucky back, and now that he had him, it seemed that America's most beloved wasn't sure what to do. Bucky didn't know either. All he knew after a month in SHIELD's custody, about anything else sounded fantastic to him.

He'd also taken up the hobby of absolutely destroying a punching bag daily.

Today was a decent enough of a day weather wise. It was seven in the morning. The streets were overflowing with people on their way to work. At first, Bucky thought he'd hate the busy atmosphere, but he found it easy to blend in the crowd. He liked being invisible among the countless people that he crossed paths with but never actually interacted with.

He'd left the Stark Tower four hours ago for his walk and hadn't stopped since. The flashback he'd had last night still clouded his mind. He was distracted when the girl crashed into him.

Bumping into others in New York wasn't an unusual thing. Instinctively, Bucky's arms steadied her as she fell onto his jacket. Her hands fisted at the fabric of it to balance herself. The girl's head was lowered as she mumbled an apology and quickly moved on like it never happened.

That was too easy.

Alianna thought as she sifted through the wallet of her most recent victim. The man carried an average amount of money for a man of his appearance. Shaggy hair, days old stubble bordering on beard, several layers of clothes...a shady character at best.

There was only one credit card. One marked with Tony Stark's name. Other than that, there was no identification as to who the man was, which was strange. She guessed he'd probably stolen the wallet.

Two wrongs make a right, was it? Alianna thought as she turned the wallet around in her freshly manicured hands. There would be no harm in keeping the wallet. There was no ID or anything that could make the police trace it to her. Besides, she liked the color.

Steve meeting him at the coffee and bagel stand was a recent thing, but not entirely unwelcome. Not invited either.

Steve handed Bucky a large coffee, which Bucky hid his distaste at and took. He didn't have the heart to let Steve down more than he already was. Maybe it was wrong of him to give Steve hope that he was getting better, but he figured he owed him for everything he'd done for him.

"Good walk?" Steve asked, voice bright as ever, hiding the concern underneath. "You've been gone a while."

"Good," Bucky answered gruffly. His voice was rough from having not spoken all morning. Probably from screaming during his flashback as well. He cleared his throat and moved past his previous best friend from another life to get a look at the display of bagels and donuts the stand offered. Steve followed.

"So," Steve said, sipping from his own cup of black coffee, "Nat and Clint are away for the next week or so. And Bruce and Tony will locked away in their labs."

Briefly pausing his search for what kind of bagel he wanted, Bucky threw a glance at Steve, recognizing his pushing tone. He arched an almost amused eyebrow. "Are you asking me out on a date, Steve?" he spoke lowly.

Shock spread across Steve's features. "No, no-" his face scrunched as though trying to wipe the image in his mind. "I meant I'm free to do whatever."

Bucky settled on a plain bagel and told the vendor so. He reached in his jacket to get the money to pay. Steve kept on talking, "I thought maybe we could take a walk to Brooklyn. Popeye's is still open, if you can believe it. I went by a couple of times. Popeye's grandson runs it now with his wife. They have that-"

"I don't have my wallet," Bucky said, cutting Steve off. "I can't find it." Bucky patted all his pockets.

"Maybe you forgot it at the Tower," Steve offered as explanation. Without asking, he reached into his own pocket and got out several dollar bills, paying for Bucky's food.

"I don't forget anything."

"Buck," Steve sighed. His blue eyes were full of pity as they met Bucky's. He probably thought his friend was losing his mind.

Bucky met Steve's gaze in challenge. He knew what was going on in Steve's mind and was waiting for someone to finally snap and acknowledge what everyone thought.

"Maybe you dropped it," Steve said instead.

"I don't drop-" Realization dawned on Bucky like a bucket of ice water, and he knew what that felt like.

She took it.

That fucking girl had taken his wallet when she'd bumped into him. She wasn't trying to steady herself. She was reaching into his pocket to steal from him.

Ever since he'd been adapted back to society under Steve and SHIELD's care, Bucky barely felt an emotion. Except maybe fear when he got those flashbacks. But now? Now he felt rage. Anger like never before boiled under his veins. He knew his expression was full of disbelief.

Him? Out of all the people in New York city, he, the Winter Soldier for fuck's sake, was mugged.

"What were you going to say?" Steve was asking. Bucky snapped back to reality. Should he tell Steve what happened? No doubt Steve would go tell the rest of the team. Oh, he could already hear Tony Stark's mocking comments.

Everyone may have been treating him like he was about to break, but not Tony Stark. The man poked fun at everyone and made the most annoying of comments.

In a second, he made his mind. "I think I dropped it," he murmured. "Yeah, I dropped it."

And he was going to find it.