โ no, i understand, weโre in your backyard, right ? โ steve
"What?"
The word comes out slightly harsher than Bucky intended it, his expression scrunching as he tries, and fails, to fill his lungs with air. His body was still healing from months at a labor camp, and his endurance was suffering because of it. It was bleeding through as frustration.
But as he stalked towards Steve, hands on his hips, it ebbs away into concern. He'd done an initial cursory glance, choosing instead to fight the natural born instinct to check him over thoroughly in favor of trusting in his new abilities and focusing all his attention to their surroundings. Clearly he'd been wrong. "Did you hit your head?"
He places a hand on Steve's back, guides it to his shoulder, pulls him upright. Annoyingly taller now. "Let me see." Bucky's cupping his face with one hand, pulling his helmet off with the other, gaze searching. "Your pupils aren't dilated, so I don't think you're concussed. So - "
He draws the O sound out for a moment, then drops it as concern builds in his gut. He remembers the shake in his hand that started during his first battle, and still hadn't gone away since. He'd also seen guys lose it over less. Bucky knows it's etched across his face. " - My backyard's in the middle of no where Austria now?"
