Chapter Text
Bucky was trying to find the nearest second-hand store, needing to find another hoodie. He may or may not have gotten this one covered in blood and filled with gunshot holes. He was just coming out of the store, and he randomly picked up extra things: the hoodie he came for, an extra hoodie that may be too small, some extra shirts, pants, or whatever.
He tugged on the hoodie he'd bought, it’d started raining, being in Gotham and all, there's always rain. He was almost back to the apartment he’d just barely managed to pay for with the small odd jobs he’d been doing. Then he’d heard wheezing, gasping even. As he walked he turned his head this way and that, until his eyes landed on a struggling form across the street in a dark alley.
He’d considered just continuing walking, going about his business, it's Gotham, over a hundred people die here. Maybe even just calling the police and continuing walking but once again, it's Gotham for fucks sake, the police can’t be trusted either.
Bucky was about to just continue walking until he noticed that the person was getting quieter, becoming weaker. Bucky made the mistake of making eye contact with them then he felt himself moving as they passed out.
He didn’t go to the crosswalk, he just started going across the street, nearly getting hit by a car. He crouched down in front of the now unconscious person, he could tell that they were still breathing, barely.
Even though they were now out cold, they were still clutching their neck, a closer look told him that they were wounded, drastically wounded at that. Good thing he always carried medical stuff. He wasn’t going to stitch them up on the side of the road though, they weren’t that far away, and he could carry them back to his apartment he guessed.
He moved the person's hand enough so he could get to the wound on their neck, pressing gauze on the wound before wrapping medical tape around their neck, just enough to stop the bleeding.
They seemed to be wearing armor of some sort, black in color. Seeing a batarang next to their hand told him that either Batman did this or this person was a part of Batman's group. But it couldn’t have been the latter, the Bat wasn’t even here, or well, not anymore.
Bucky took out the extra hoodie he’d bought. Somehow it was smaller than him and bigger than the person, it was just gonna have to do. Bucky carefully put the hoodie on the person, he’d check for any other injuries when he's stitching up the wound at his apartment. He carefully lifted them, getting them on his back, his hands underneath their legs, and holding them up.
They were still wheezing, Bucky just hoped all this effort wouldn’t be for nothing if they were to die. He decided to just take to the roofs, hopefully they can handle some jostling, it wouldn’t be a good look to be carrying an unconscious person that was covered in blood through the rain.
Bucky made it back to his apartment not too long after. Pushing open the door and walking in before kicking it shut behind him. Bucky placed them down on his couch, briefly considering blood stains before that thought left his head. He could tell they carried weapons, had felt the weight, smelled the gunpowder, plus it wasn’t like the gun holsters were not obvious. Bucky just quickly checks them, or well him, he supposed. Finding weapons and adding them to a growing pile on the table.
About 4 guns, 20 knives, 10 explosives, 2 grappling hooks, and some other random items. Bucky just decided that letting whoever this guy was have weapons wasn’t going to be a good choice. He picked up all the weapons carefully, making sure the safety was on the guns before he went to hide them somewhere. Coming back with more medical stuff, unwrapping the bandage he had done earlier before beginning on the stitches.
He was in a familiar routine that shouldn’t even be a routine. Stitching, stabilizing, cleaning the blood, stitching, wait is he still breathing-, stabilizing, cleaning the blood, self-note to not get hit by a batarang-, stitching…
Bucky managed to finish pretty quickly, he was confident enough to say that they were his best with the supplies he’d had. After he’d finished rebandaging the guy's neck for extra protection, he just set to checking for any other injuries. Of course, ridding him of his armor, Bucky was aware how uncomfortable sleeping in it was, and just in case this guy was against being helped by strangers and started a fight then… well it's his loss.
He found some other injuries, barely healed ribs, an autopsy scar? Curious… Some other minor scars and bruises, some other not minor scars and bruises. Tending to them before he went to also hide away the guy's armor. Coming back and noticing that his wheezing had stopped almost completely, maybe he was a super soldier? Nah, there were none in Gotham. Maybe he got something from Ra's Al Ghul or something? Whatever, it's not that important for now.
Bucky just put back on the hoodie he’d gotten for himself on the guy, this shitty apartment didn’t have heat and in Gotham no matter what month or season it was supposed to be. If it were raining, it would be cold. He picked up the guy, carrying him into the only room with a bed in it and laying him down. There was another supposedly bedroom but obviously there wasn’t another bed, Bucky had been using it to keep his supplies and things there anyway.
Bucky froze, looking at the guy on his bed. Was that white hair? So it was definitely Ra’s Al Ghul then, not Hydra. Guess that’s a good thing? Kinda? Bucky shook his head, clearing it before walking out of the room.
Bucky made sure to keep an ear out for any abnormalities in the guy's breathing. He did not need to be snuck up on right now. Then he just silently took stock of himself, he guessed he was due for a check-in.
Maybe a handful of months ago, he’d escaped from Hydra, ran, and hid in Gotham. He hid for the first week, not eating a thing until he made sure he wouldn’t be chased, hunted, or found. Then he gradually started to build his life back. Slowly very slowly getting out of the Winter Soldier mentality, he wasn’t living yet, just alive. But perhaps that was enough.
Memories did eventually start to return to him. Of course his name, his full one, James Buchanan Barnes. Some moments of Steve and who he was or used to be at least. Few memories of his time as the Winter Soldier came, not all but some, nothing very important either.
Just some scenes, pictures of hallways, faces, some buildings, and Voices, different ones that he could and couldn’t place at times. There wasn’t much in his head before Hydra, there was little actually. Only a younger him and Steve were all he could place distant memories that were only a word or two from their voices, or maybe a picture or two of his past.
It didn’t exactly bother him, can’t really miss something you’ve forgotten you lost. There was always a weird ache in his chest from it though. Always there, weighing but not drowning. He just hoped that wouldn’t worsen.
Right the check in- After he’d made sure that he’d be safe at least for a little while. He went out to try and gather up some cash. Just helping people with a reward. Maybe fix a guy's car, help that older lady with her groceries, and help some young teen girl with her car because her “stupid boyfriend didn’t know a damn thing about cars”. There was that one time he stole from that big billionaire, Wayne? He thinks he’s called. He didn’t care enough to remember who the guy was and it wasn’t like he needed the thousand he stole.
So currently he has about a thousand and under a half. Enough to cover rent for a while until he felt it safe enough to get an actual job. Which he was gonna do tomorrow but guess that was gonna have to wait until.. well he didn’t know.
Anyways, he needed to go check on his current situation. He could hear the guys breathing speeding up in the other room. Bucky got up, entering the room just when the guy sat up quickly. A strained wince came from him as he immediately clutched at the bandages around his neck, wrapped around his neck. A confused expression on his face.
“You shouldn’t sit up that quickly, you’ll open the stitches.”
Bucky had said, causing the guy to startle and most likely reach for one of the weapons that Bucky had thankfully already removed from his person. Bucky walked more into the room, into the light, his palms raising to be unthreatening.
“No need to be defensive, I’m not here to hurt you.”
Bucky tried to assure, but was met with a glare from the man whose breathing was shallow and shoulders round tight. This might be harder and more reckless than Bucky originally thought…
Great..