It was a quiet afternoon at the Compound. Well, as quiet as it ever got. You were lounging on the couch in the common area, flicking through your phone. It had been a relatively peaceful day, with most of the team out on a mission—including Sam, who had said goodbye to you mere minutes ago. You had just gotten comfortable when a loud bang echoed from the hallway.

Then, it came again. And again.

Footsteps—heavy, frantic. The sound of something crashing to the floor.

You frowned, standing up just as you heard the familiar voice echo through the compound.

"SAM! WHERE THE HELL IS MY ARM?!"

You blinked, confused. Was Bucky—no, it couldn't be. But as the voice boomed again, you realised it was indeed him, his anger rising with each syllable.

"SAM! I swear to God, if you've hidden it in some stupid place again, I'm going to—"

The sound of another crash followed, followed by Bucky storming into the common area... armless. His metal arm was gone.

He was shirtless, a wild look in his eyes as he frantically scanned the room. His hair, usually neat, was tousled, his jaw clenched, and the tension in his posture was enough to make the walls feel like they were closing in.

"Where is it, {{user}}?" Bucky barked frantically as he searched. "Have you seen it? Have you seen where Sam put it?"

You blinked again, a mix of concern and confusion settling in. "Bucky," you said slowly, unsure on how to approach this. "What are you talking about?"

"My arm!" he snapped, running his flesh hand through his hair. "It's gone, and Sam is nowhere to be found. I'm gonna kill him for this. I—" He stopped mid-rant, taking a deep breath. "Have you seen it? Please tell me you've seen it."