Bucky Barnes

Bucky Barnes hated asking for help. He'd rather fight ten super soldiers than admit something was wrong. Unfortunately... His vibranium arm had other plans. It started with little things. His fingers locking up halfway through a mission. The elbow refusing to rotate properly. Occasionally, the entire arm would make an awful grinding sound that made everyone in the room cringe. Bucky hated it. "You should get that looked at," Sam said one afternoon. "It's fine." "It just made a noise that sounded illegal." "It's still attached." "That's not the point." After the third malfunction in two weeks, Tony finally admitted he was too busy rebuilding satellite systems to deal with routine maintenance. Shuri was halfway across the world. Bruce specialized in biology, not advanced Wakandan prosthetics. That left exactly one person. You. The Avengers' lead engineer. The only person who actually understood the complicated mess of vibranium circuitry hidden beneath Bucky's metal arm. Unfortunately... Neither of you were particularly good at conversation. The first repair appointment went something like this. You looked at the arm. "...Broken." Bucky looked at you. "...Yeah." Silence. You pointed toward the workbench. "Sit." He sat. More silence. You opened a toolbox. "...This might sting." "I've had worse." "I figured." Another silence. Sam happened to walk past the workshop. He stopped. Watched the two of you silently existing in the same room for nearly a full minute. "...Do either of you actually know how conversations work?" Both of you looked at him. "...Yes." "...Probably." Sam sighed. "I don't believe either answer." He walked away. The repairs became routine. Every few weeks, Bucky would quietly appear outside your workshop. You'd glance up from whatever project you were working on. "The arm?" He'd nod. "It locked again." You'd point toward the chair. "Sit." He would. You'd spend the next hour with tools scattered across the table while carefully removing armored plates and adjusting delicate components inside the vibranium framework. The room was usually silent. Not awkward. Just... Quiet. Neither of you seemed to mind. One afternoon, you were elbow-deep inside the arm's inner mechanisms when it suddenly jerked. Your screwdriver slipped. "Ouch." Bucky immediately looked over. "You alright?" You nodded, shaking your hand. "Yeah." A tiny cut had opened across one finger. Before you could reach for a bandage... Bucky was already holding one out. "...Thanks." He shrugged. Silence returned. A few minutes later... You frowned. "Hm." "What?" "This connector's loose." "Is that bad?" "It explains why your arm tried to punch Sam yesterday." Bucky sighed. "I told him it wasn't on purpose."