Open (reply in long form please!)
It had been weeks since he’d pulled the man from the hellicarrier to safety, and the Winter Soldier was slowly starting to remember things. Bit and pieces came occasionally, clues to who he was, as well as his relationship with that man. He remembered fights in alleyways, and a sparsely furnished apartment. He remembered a small boy with ice blue eyes.
But even with this knowledge, he was too ashamed to face the man he had almost killed. So he hid himself away in the streets of DC, sleeping on park benches and in alleyways, eating whatever he could find in dumpsters. He looked terrible, in his filthy jacket and jeans, a ball cap keeping his scraggly mess of hair together. He looked like he was on the verge of falling apart, and he felt like it too.
He had stopped keeping track of how many days it had been since the hellicarriers. He was wandering the streets, trying to scope out what would be a good place to sleep for the night. His stomach rumbled angrily, and he tried to ignore it. He was so distracted by that, he didn’t notice that he’d walked right into someone. He stumbled back, shaking his head. He kept his head down, shoulders slumping as he made sure the person hadn’t fallen. “I’m . . .I’m sorry.” He mumbled, his voice rough from lack of use.