[While everyone else is chasing after the traits or skills they've lost, Bucky is sitting on a bench in the park, his rifle on his back and a gun in his hand, staring at the ground like it holds all the answers to the question he's not asking. When the wind blows a little harder, he shivers a little, sighing to himself... yeah, it makes sense to want back something that's yours. But what if what got taken wasn't really yours to begin with?]
[When the same creature that took whatever serum he'd been given during his imprisonment appears in front of him again, challenging him to fight for it... Bucky just exhales, looking up with an icy stare.]