That night the man slept in the ally; Unmoved since his last attempt at speaking. Although the air was warm and it hadn't rained that night, shivers rattled his strong form, a withdrawal from the drugs. Drugs that had been pumped through him continuously for 70 years had suddenly stopped. His body was trying to remember how to function without them.
One signal rang immediately clear through his broken brain: Food. He clutched his flesh arm to his stomach and felt for the IV tube that had fed him for decades. There were no doctors around to pump nutrients into him; he had to get food on his own.
Slowly standing, he felt stomach acid bubbling at the back of his throat. Scanning the area, he saw a water fountain two blocks away. Moving quicker than a normal man probably would, he got to the water fountain, and drank in long chugs. Once the burning in his throat stopped his stomach reminded him that it needed food.
He searched the jeans he had taken and found two crumpled five dollar bills. A voice at the far back of his mind said wow we were lucky if we found fifty cents for dinner.
He caught his reflection in the metal of the water fountain. Dirty and battered from sleeping in the ally he took some of the water into his hands and washed the brown and red smudges from his face. Small strands of stubble caught in the metal arm but the small ripping pain didn't faze him. Looking at himself again there was a small flicker of recognition. The voice spoke again saying not my best look but it will do. He seemed slightly startled. The voice was much louder and somehow more present then he can ever remember it being.
Walking over to a food truck parked outside a bank. The sign on the truck read Tony's Tacos in big bolded script. A wash of anxiety filled his chest what the hell is a Taco? The voice echoed his anxiety.
"Ay bub you gonna order a taco or just hold up my line." The man from the truck yelled.
The horrible stress built in his chest and he could feel his breath become unsteady.
"Hey you ok buddy?"
He wasn't sure what to do. He had never had to order food or even talk to people who weren't in charge of him. He slowly stepped back and tripped over the man behind him. Almost falling backwards, his metal arm turned in an unhuman way and dug his fingers into the asphalt before he fell completely.
The man he had tripped over, screamed at the sight of the man's arm bent totally backwards, and his hand being submerged in the road as easily as if it were water.
The scream shocked him. Without a word he lifted his hand from the ground and ran as fast as he could. Tears streaming openly down his face, he didn't stop running until he was sure he was out of danger. If he had even been in danger.
Louder his stomach protested and the man was embarrassed by its needs. He walked until he found the machine he had come across on a mission once. He remembered how before he had performed the hit, the victim had put money in this machine and it had given him food.
He inserted one of the bills into the machine and pressed the buttons his victim had hit, B6. Not knowing what would happen, he waited and a small bag of peanuts in a colorful wrapper fell into a basin at the bottom of the machine. Untrusting of the machine, he used his metal arm to get the food.
Ripping open the package, and pouring the contents directly into his mouth, the salt stung his bleeding gums. He slumped next to the machine and stared at the sky. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen a sunset but he was sure he had never seen one quite as orange as this one. He watched until the sky grew completely dark. When he couldn't tell when his eyes were open and when his eyes were shut, he felt safe enough to start the hard stuff.
"Bucky" The white pain of the belt crashed on him and he fell on his side. "Steve" he tested. The warm feeling surrounded him. "James" Almost no pain came after and he got excited. "Sgt. James Buchanan Barnes" he says expectantly, small tingles of pain edged around his head. It was uncomfortable but nothing he couldn't handle. For the first time in years, there was actual joy in his mind. A smile broke through his lips. "Steve Rogers, aka Captain America" nothing. "Bucky" he said hesitantly. Full pain enveloped his mind, but he didn't collapse like before. When the pain slowed enough the smile came back. If he can hold onto Steve then he could hold onto Bucky.
Note: Hey! I hope you guys are liking this. If you could comment on how you think im doing I would appreciate it. If you guys have head cannons or ideas then by all means share them :) I might put some in the rest of the fic