When Aang descends from the ceiling Bucky is sat with his back to the SUV, staring silently across the third floor.

Thanks to the child's warning he doesn't flinch or react to the sound of his landing, registering the sound of the impact as appropriate to one of Aang's size and weight. He knows who it is, he knows he is safe.

In his fingers a knife is flipped over and over, repetitive soothing motion, meant to keep his thoughts at bay.

It's only semi-working.