It's one thing to wake up from a nightmare-fantasy-flashback-half-forgotten-truth concoction his brain cooks up in the middle of the night in trying to keep all the trauma under tight wraps. He's had plenty of those. But this felt-- different, somehow. It felt real in ways that his life spent as the Winter Soldier doesn't. Like it really happened to him and it wasn't something his body did under HYDRA's influence.
This is-- a very different EMT that comes rushing to his aid. Bucky doesn't respond immediately, looking around to see a few other people either on their hands on knees slowly getting to their feet or still lying down. Whatever snarky, self-deprecating thing he was about to say about hitting the hot cocoa a little too hard turns to ashes on his tongue.
"Uh..." Bucky hisses as he tries to sits up again and clutches the back of his head. Ow. He's still a little disoriented even as the ringing in his ear just starts to fade.
"I don't know," he admits. Not deliberately trying to conceal anything, but. He really doesn't know what the fuck that was. He pulls his right leg in just a little bit at the knee, and then his left. At least he hasn't lost another limb.
"Had a weird..." Bucky frowns and shakes his head a bit. He doesn't know how to describe what he's just relived. "Um. It's-- probably nothing. Just bit my lip, when my head hit the floor." He presses his bare fingers to the corner of his lips, the few inches between his lips and his jawline. It's warm and wet and when Bucky lifts his hand he can visually confirm it's not rain or snow or hot chocolate or anything. There's smears of red that accentuate the fine little creases on his middle and end finger joints.
no worries. I phone tag so inputting all that extra html is annoying
This is-- a very different EMT that comes rushing to his aid. Bucky doesn't respond immediately, looking around to see a few other people either on their hands on knees slowly getting to their feet or still lying down. Whatever snarky, self-deprecating thing he was about to say about hitting the hot cocoa a little too hard turns to ashes on his tongue.
"Uh..." Bucky hisses as he tries to sits up again and clutches the back of his head. Ow. He's still a little disoriented even as the ringing in his ear just starts to fade.
"I don't know," he admits. Not deliberately trying to conceal anything, but. He really doesn't know what the fuck that was. He pulls his right leg in just a little bit at the knee, and then his left. At least he hasn't lost another limb.
"Had a weird..." Bucky frowns and shakes his head a bit. He doesn't know how to describe what he's just relived. "Um. It's-- probably nothing. Just bit my lip, when my head hit the floor." He presses his bare fingers to the corner of his lips, the few inches between his lips and his jawline. It's warm and wet and when Bucky lifts his hand he can visually confirm it's not rain or snow or hot chocolate or anything. There's smears of red that accentuate the fine little creases on his middle and end finger joints.