copperbadge:

Title: Armed And Dangerous
Rating: G 
Summary: Bucky hates everything, except maybe little kids with prosthetic arms. 

It was Sam’s idea to go to the hospital, which was not that surprising. Bucky was getting used to living with two proud, stubborn, bleeding goddamn hearts, and while their chipper Pollyanna outlook on life desperately needed his dark and morbid sense of humor to balance it, he knew in truth nothing would ever stop Steve and Sam from worrying about orphans and crying over ASPCA commercials. 

So it wasn’t surprising that Sam thought a visit to the children’s hospital was just what they needed after nearly a year of what Bucky dryly referred to as “Hydra and Seek” – where he torched Hydra outposts and Steve and Sam tried to pin him down and forcibly drag him into a group hug. 

Steve, Sam said, needed to be reminded that he was a hero, that people liked and admired him, and Bucky would concede that Steve couldn’t generally find his self-esteem with two hands and a map. Bucky, Sam said, could use to be reminded that people in general were not horrible monsters. Bucky felt this was overstating things. Most people were just horrible. They weren’t monsters. He was a monster. 

“What if I snap?” he asked. It was a legitimate question. It’d happened twice, once when Steve had tried to elbow him out of the way while cooking (the knife went into the wall, not Steve’s arm, but it was a close thing) and once when he’d been brushing his teeth, and the toothbrush had hit his gums wrong, had reminded him of the bite-guard and the prep machine. Since then, he’d just used mouthwash. 

“They’re little kids, you won’t snap,” Steve said. “Besides, I’ll be there.”

“What exactly are you telling the hospital?” Bucky asked.

“That Captain America and two war veterans are coming to help hand out Cap dolls and stickers to the kids,” Sam said. 

Which was how Bucky ended up yawning his way through a car ride at 9 in the goddamn morning on a Saturday, with Steve in full getup in the front seat. 

When they finally got to the hospital, someone gave him a coffee, and that cheered him up while he watched Steve get mobbed by tiny kids in wheelchairs, on crutches, with bald heads, with bandages. Sam had a box of stickers as big as some of the kids, and soon most of the kids were clutching Cap dolls and covered in stickers as they crowded around Steve to touch the shield and pat the wings on his cowl and ask him questions. It was, Bucky had to admit, really nice to see people who just loved Steve for being awesome. Because Steve was awesome, when you got down to it, and too many people gave him too much crap for it. 

He wasn’t doing much himself, and nobody seemed to mind that, when he heard the slap of hospital clogs on the floor, and a little kid appeared in the doorway, watching with dark eyes. He held onto the frame with one hand. His other hand was bright blue plastic, jointed at the wrist and fingers. 

“Did I miss Captain America?” he asked breathlessly. 

“No, he’s right over there,” Bucky said, pointing to the crowd of kids around Steve.

“Oh,” the kid said, looking disappointed. “I guess he’s out of dolls, huh?”

“Nah, he brought like, a million of ‘em. Go get one,” Bucky said, gesturing him forward. The boy started to shake his head, then caught sight of the arm, eyes widening. Bucky tucked it away in his pocket quickly, but it was too late.

“Is that a ‘sthetic?” the boy asked, darting forward to grab it. Bucky stiffened. “Whoa, cool. Is it bionic? Mine’s 3-D printed.“ 

“Um, positronic,” Bucky said, because that’s what Steve’s pal Tony said it was. He wiggled the fingers, and the boy gasped. 

“Is it strong? Can you lift stuff? I can’t lift much. Lift me!” he demanded, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s wrist. Bucky rolled his eyes, but he raised his arm until it stuck straight out, with the little boy dangling from it and shrieking excitedly.

Like a flock of goddamn birds, the other children noticed that someone was giving Prosthetic Arm Rides, and they all abandoned Steve to poke and tug at Bucky’s arm. Bucky scooped the boy up and said, “Captain America’s free, you wanna go see him?”

“No, I wanna play with your arm!” the boy insisted. Bucky glanced at Steve, then at Sam, then carefully set the boy down and reached across his chest, disengaging the arm from its socket. The children screamed happily.

“I’m gonna getcha with my arm!” the boy yelled, grabbing it from Bucky and chasing a little girl in a wheelchair, who zoomed around the room, laughing. 

“Look, the Grinch’s heart grew three sizes,” Sam said.

“Get lost,” Bucky replied. 

“Guess we better put in an order for some Bucky Barnes dolls,” Steve said. “We’ll get ‘em to do the arm in silver, bet they can make it detachable with that velcro stuff. it’ll look nice." 

"I hate you both,” Bucky said, but he crouched down so the rest of the kids could push his sleeve up and poke at the socket mount for his arm.