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The arm Hydra had given Bucky all those years ago had... not been perfect. Far from it. A lot of malfunctions had fried it more often than Bucky would care to count.
Even now, with the Wakandan arm, Bucky could still feel the aftereffects of all those malfunctions.
It came and went but Bucky was pretty sure that the Hydra-arm had fried some of the nerves in his shoulder.
Some days, the flesh around the metal just felt numb to the world, when Bucky couldn't even feel the water from the shower pattering down on him. On other days, it felt like his whole shoulder was on fire.
Today was one of the on-fire days.
The second Bucky had woken up in the morning, he knew that today would be a terrible day.
He sat up and rubbed absentmindedly at his shoulder to try and ease the pain. It did not work.
Choosing just to get on with the day, Bucky got up from the bed and went for a shower.
The cold water pricked at his skin uncomfortably but warm water just made the fire in his body burn hotter. So cold water it was.
After the shower, Bucky went into the Wilsons's living room and flopped down on the couch, staring into nothingness.
It wasn't even that the pain in his shoulder necessarily brought back memories of the past, it just hurt. And it was driving Bucky very much near insanity.
"Mornin' Bucky," Sam greeted as he entered the kitchen area. Bucky made a growling sound as an answer. He regretted it the instant Sam stopped in his tracks immediately.
"Bucky?", Sam asked, putting down the bowls he had just pulled out for the boys.
"What?", Bucky barked, his head snapping around towards him.
"Are you okay?"
At that, Bucky froze. He hadn't expected that. He had expected berating, had expected Sam telling him to suck it up and start helping him, to act like nothing was wrong.
He hadn't expected concern.
"Bucky?", Sam asked again, coming around and sitting down on the far side of the couch, keeping a respectable distance between the two.
"I'm fine," Bucky answered, forcing himself to stare blankly forward again.
"Are you sure about that? 'Cause you don't look all that fine," Sam said, folding his hands together in his lap.
"I'm fine!", Bucky snapped, practically jumping from the couch and all but fleeing from the living room and out the door.
The cool sea air calmed his temper somewhat so Bucky stuck his hands in his jacket-pockets and started to walk.
He greeted a local resident every now and again on his walk, every time confused by their niceness. How could random people who barely knew him greet him this nicely?
Two or three old, kind ladies even tried inviting him in for a morning coffee or tea onto their verandas but Bucky declined with a half-forced smile every time.
Eventually, Bucky's stomach grumbled too loudly and the wind was making his shoulder ache too bad to keep going. So he turned around and started walking back to the Wilsons's house.
He stood in front of the door for a few minutes when he came back, massaging the cramping muscles above his metal arm with rough motions.
"Are you going inside or not?", Sam asked from behind him. Bucky turned towards him leaning against a tree, arms crossed in front of his chest.
"Thought about it. Maybe in a few hours or so," Bucky answered sarcastically.
"Well if you decide to do so today, there's some meds on your bedside table for the pain that should work," Sam just said and pushed himself off the tree to walk around the house before Bucky could react.
That he also hadn't expected. But it was nice. To know that someone was there who cared for him. Not in the way that he needed Bucky to do something for him, but just because they were friends.