"No, you don't." Bucky moves into the kitchen and pulls out a plate and some cutlery from the cupboard and drawer, seemingly knowing his way around Arthur's place. He sets the plate down and pulls the bag downwards to expose the aluminum tray. Peeling the lip on each side back, the smell of melted cheese and oven baked tomatoes and ground meat fills the kitchen as he pushes the plate over to the teenage boy's side of the counter. He can cut some and serve himself, can't he?

"Maybe it's not the same where you come from, but there's some things we don't point out about other people. Missing limbs and disfigurements and. Body size and skin colour and stuff. Nobody was deliberately hiding it from you."