At Clint's casual question, a memory rose up to swamp Bucky and he swallowed hard, trying to push away the image of a pair of dead, accusing eyes, and the wicked black arrow jutting out between them.
"Yeah," he said at last, his voice raw. "I'm good with a bow." He spun and walked quickly out of the media room.
Not sure what had freaked the man out, but knowing it must have been a fucking whopper, Clint followed, but when he entered the hallway just seconds after him, Bucky was nowhere in sight.
Uneasy, Clint said, "Jarvis, where's Barnes?"