Who Am I? » [Stucky]

22. Everybody Needs Heroes

Bucky intended on spending yet another day lounging in the vast city, wasting away the dreary hours observing the people mooching around him, popping into shops, rushing into food outlets and strolling through the park.

He was beginning to enjoy people watching and the simple pleasure of being bone idle; although a lot of questions still hung on his busy mind and occupied his time.

By watching people he learned how normal life worked in the industrial and futuristic 21st Century. He learnt about the courtesies and trends, the way to act and the way to dress; although the style did seem to vary greatly. He had noticed that a lot of things that had been a discriminative offence had become socially acceptable: black people were given an equal social standing and set of rights to white people, women were treated as equals to men and could go to work and occupy senior jobs and people of the same sex were allowed to date. It was odd, but he saw no reason to object to any of the changes: the world was a better and happier place.

He tried to snuggle into his clothes to keep himself warm in the early morning cold. Frosty flakes decorated every glade and a swirling mist had descended on New York City, clouding every building and swarming every shadowy figure. Looking through the dense cloud of fog was like watching a Chinese shadow puppet show, only silhouettes were visible and they masqueraded about. The grand buildings looked equally impressive as only giant rectangular shadows.

He feared he might freeze like the crunchy strands of grass standing tall beneath his boots as he trampled across the turf. His hands were tingling as they were close to losing sensation. His long hair kept his ears warmer than the rest of his flushed face, his nose had reddened like Rudolph the red-nose reindeer and his cheeks had gone bright pink to match. He shivered and juddered pitifully and he hugged his bony cold body with his with arms intertwined over his chest like pieces of wire.

He was going to catch his death; he was sure of it.

He fought his way through the cold morning until the glorious sun rose high in the blue sky and the icy wonderland turned from a misty haven into a melty dew-bejewelled paradise. He sat out in the sun a hope to warm himself up again, letting the warm light fall on his face and turn his red cheeks pale again and make his pink nose fade. He shut his eyes as he sat back on the bench and let the warmth drench him, letting the sunlight pour over his body and sooth his frigid skin, it soothed his frozen frame.

It was only a short while longer before people started passing by, dropping scraps of unneeded money generously at his side as they went, giving him the means to afford drinks and a meal; he was beginning to look sickly white and thoroughly malnourished, but fortunately that worked to his favour; evoking sympathy from his weak-willed audience and earning him more money. Once he had spent long enough pleading with his large blue puppy dog eyes, dark from sleeplessness and his pale bony face, sharply angled from where the skin was pulled tightly over its frame he stacked up enough money to buy himself a meal.

He hated doing it. He would pull up his limp hood onto his head and hide his wretched wrought face, smothered with dirt and slashed and bruised, to hide his unruly knotted hair and conceal his identity from anyone who might be interested. He would stuff his hands deep in his pockets to hide his robotic hand and hang his head as not to draw attention to himself and make sure no one recognised his face. He was paranoid every minute of every day that someone was coming to find him and to take him back to the god-forsaken facility and that wasn't a risk that he was willing to take. He couldn't go back... Ever.

Bucky would browse the McDonald's menu from a distance he deemed safe, lurking by where the straws, serviettes and sauces were kept and sneak to the back of the queue when he was ready and plucked up the courage. He could sense the eyes on him the moments he made his way towards the desk and he hated it. It made his skin crawl and his spine stiffed. A Hydra agent could be in the room and he'd be blissfully unaware and too hungry to be able to defend himself not to mention his arm was getting into shoddier state as the days went by, fizzling, seizing up and the joints becoming sticky. His complexion wasn't exactly inconspicuous either, long dark hair, a defined jaw and shocking blue eyes.