Wilderness Survival
The look on Bucky's face would be one of faint surprise. He felt something last night, too. Something he doesn't really understand, and doesn't know how to describe or conceptualize. He couldn't even say if what he'd felt was real, or just the product of his own vulnerability, sadness and uncertainty when he realized that Steve was gone - and it had been at least several days before he noticed. Apparently, there was no limit to the number of times and ways you could lose the same person, and he was so tired of losing. He imagined Tony was, too.
But whatever it was, real or not, he'd felt something last night. A warmth that wound its way around him, woven into his ribcage and settled in the center of his chest. So much of the time, he really didn't feel anything, and this was-- a good feeling. He wanted to protect it like it was something small and precious and alive, a single spot of green in a vast wasteland. Well, really, he wanted someone better to protect it, but he was his only option.