02 Apr 2021
There's a gunshot. A gunshot, then a scream, and then Bucky, moving fast enough to cover Sam with his whole body and raise his metal arm at the height of his chest to reflect the bullet before it can hit Sam's right in the arm.
His left hand was clenched on his arm, suit ripped in some places with evident wounds where his bare skin was shown, blood soaking through the dark fabric. His lips were tightened in pain, but he was making noises anyway, silent whimpers had escaped his throat as he grimaced his face and leaned his back against the cold wall.
It took a while for Sam to show up in the foyer. His face was exhausted before he looked at Bucky and it changed as fast as their gaze met, his eyes widened with terror. He opened his mouth, but Bucky interrupted him quickly before he even had a chance to speak up. "Hi. How's it going?"