Bucky was in a lot of the same boat as Sam. The days of feeling… whatever that was, they had been fine. Like maybe what life would be like if he hadn’t gone through everything he had. That wasn’t reality, it wasn’t real life, and the fall back to what was true hadn’t been a nice one. Plus he really didn’t like when people fucked with his head.
He’d gone to the farm to hang out with the goats, but he went a different way when he saw Sam. Walking over, he leaned against the fence and looked down at the rabbit he was holding. “How’s it going?”