[ He hadn’t planned on eating tonight, on a day when he’s had a good breakfast and half of a snack. When supplies are low, when he has Damian and Rue to think of. He stops when he spots it, freezing in his tracks. Bucky, he thinks. It has to be Bucky.
But somehow, somehow it isn't Bucky this time. He knows that the moment he spots the sigil. He picks it up in disbelief, turning it over slowly in his hands, marveling at each perfect line. Marveling that someone would make this and then choose to give it away. Give it away to him.
And maybe it isn't meant for him at all. But the thought on its own settles something warm in his chest.
He’s more desperately hungry than he knew, and the sight of food does him in. He takes his time and eats only half, gently packing away the rest. Then he’s darting back to the refuge of the rooftop, shading his eyes to scan the ruins he'd abandoned for the meal. He has half a hunch to go on. He'll track him down if it takes all night, but maybe that's part of the game. ]
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But somehow, somehow it isn't Bucky this time. He knows that the moment he spots the sigil. He picks it up in disbelief, turning it over slowly in his hands, marveling at each perfect line. Marveling that someone would make this and then choose to give it away. Give it away to him.
And maybe it isn't meant for him at all. But the thought on its own settles something warm in his chest.
He’s more desperately hungry than he knew, and the sight of food does him in. He takes his time and eats only half, gently packing away the rest. Then he’s darting back to the refuge of the rooftop, shading his eyes to scan the ruins he'd abandoned for the meal. He has half a hunch to go on. He'll track him down if it takes all night, but maybe that's part of the game. ]