Bucky stands at the edge of the area cordoned off by police tape and crosses the metal arm over the right one. It hasn't even been fifteen minutes since Walker beat it and Bucky was too shell-shocked to follow and the secret service people showed up. He discovered then that his Winter Soldier glare was still very much functional, which kept all of the suits from trying to talk to him. Unfortunately, that means they are now talking to Sam, asking him the same set of questions for the second time.
He very purposefully does not think of Steve's shield, spattered with blood. That makes the darkness at the back of his head want to unfurl, to rip something apart. Preferably someone.
Instead he lets his eyes sweep across the square, checking for potential trouble among the onlookers armed with their phones and conferring with the people closest to them, and wiggles his left fingers.
At one point, EMTs carry a gurney covered with a white sheet out of the house the Flag Smashers were holed up in. He deliberately does not look at it. Poor guy, only trying to protect his friend. Had he even known that Walker had taken the serum?
His right hand moves toward his left shoulder as if by its own volition. Bucky winces and stops, annoyed with himself. Since the fight with the Dora Milaje, his brain keeps supplying him with a picture of the arm just... falling off and hanging limply in the sleeve of his jacket. Awkward.
He feels sort of… violated. It's nothing compared to everything Hydra did to him, but still. He trusted the Wakandans completely and it's dispiriting to know the feeling was not entirely mutual.
Speaking of Wakandans. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Ayo making her way through the crowd, back in her black civvie clothes. She is seemingly only strolling around to get the best angle to see what all those agents are standing around, but he can tell she is moving towards him. She stops some paces away. Not close enough to draw attention, but close enough so that he can just hear her whisper to him in Xhosa.
“We have not been able to find Zemo's trail. Did he mention anything that might indicate where he could have gone?”
Bucky goes through the conversations they've had with Zemo with a fine comb, but nothing comes to mind. Also, a man who has a private plane and butler on call hours after getting out of prison is sure to have a ton of bolt-holes across the globe. He shakes his head almost imperceptibly. Ayo gives no outward sign of her emotional response to this bit of information. She stays in place for a few more minutes to keep up the pretence of being simply another curious set of eyes. As she turns to leave, he finds himself whispering:
“You know, you could've... told me. I'm all for contingencies. But. I would've liked to know.”
He chances a glance at her just as she turns to look at him. Her eyes full of disdain and rage. For a few moments, nothing. Then: “Bast damn you for releasing our King's killer, James.”
His gaze follows her as she weaves her way through the crowd, unseen. Just another person he thought trusted him. It seems Steve was the only one who ever trusted him completely, without taking precautions. But, really, how can he expect others to trust in him if he can't even do that himself?
To stop himself from going farther down that cheering line of thoughts, Bucky goes back to surveillance. He sweeps his eyes across the area, but gets stuck on Sam.
Sam, who kept texting him when Bucky shut himself of from anyone during those six months. Sam, who was rightfully angry about not having been told about Isaiah and about him helping Zemo escape, but who still listened and supported him. Who keeps on checking Bucky's alright. Sam, who didn't hesitate to reach out to him in that bar in Madripoor.
Bucky blinks. He can't remember the last time he was so glad to be wrong. He focusses on Sam who is still talking with the agents. By the set of his shoulders, Bucky can tell that Sam is getting very irritated and frustrated as the suits repeat their queries a third time, “just to make sure”.
Well. Time to do one of the non-killing related things he's good at: stand beside a good man and glare at anyone who dares to disrespect him.