Hey guys :) This is a little drabble!fic I wrote a while ago from a Tumblr!Prompt. Hope you enjoy this little piece of fluff.

He never wanted to be a famous hero. He would always stand back when the cameras were around them, off to one side as he let the other Avengers have their moment of glory after a long and hard fight. Of course, he would usually be pulled into a photo by Steve, who would always, without fail, notice him trying to hide in the background and reach back for him, their hands joining before he would suddenly find himself standing there beside the others, cameras in his face. But Steve's hand never left his, not unless he let go first.

He never really wanted fame, nor glory. All he ever wanted to do was to help people. He was a good soldier like that. Always being the first to stand beside his friends when they needed help, always able to be counted on when times became tough for any of them.

He had decided to take a quiet stroll downtown, a cap over his head and a jacket to cover the more…distinctive parts. Blue eyes watched the other humans as they wandered around the city, living their lives without knowing of the quiet hero in their midst. His thoughts turned contemplative; was he even considered 'human' anymore? With all the ways that science had changed him, could he even claim to be 'human'? Or was he something more, something twisted and-
A tug on the arm of his jacket abruptly yanked him out of his downward spiralling thoughts and he looked down to see a small girl, no more than 6 years old, her small hand grasping his sleeve. Her small prosthetic hand. Big blue eyes looked up at him shyly, her hand letting go of his sleeve once she noticed she had his attention. He knelt down before her, heedless of the snow that was beginning to fall and smiled at the girl, albeit awkwardly. He didn't really smile, after all.

"I just wanted to say that you're my hero."

He barely heard the words at first but once he did, he looked down at the little girl who had slipped her hand into his own metal one, her blue eyes looking up at him with a big smile on her face.

And Bucky Barnes began to cry as that small hand held his own, trusting in the hands that once were used to kill; that they would protect her. And Bucky swore he always would.