"...not more damaged than usual." It's only sort of a joke although that's not so obvious when Bucky's tone is dry and he still sounds a little confused. Probably more to do with what he just saw than any sort of concussion or injury.
Besides, a fall would be the most benign, oddly boring thing that would have happened to his head. Most people want to intentionally get up in there and mess with his mind. And he's not ruling this quaint little town out of trying to do the same just yet.
He presses his cold hand to his lower stomach again and checks, just to be sure. No blood. No open wounds. No unfamiliar scars. Just-- that nose-wrinkling lingering burnt flesh and skin smell.
"I'll be okay," he insists, not very comfortable with the attention. He's always struggled with accepting help. Especially when his paranoia is in overdrive and he can't force himself to trust anyone here.
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Besides, a fall would be the most benign, oddly boring thing that would have happened to his head. Most people want to intentionally get up in there and mess with his mind. And he's not ruling this quaint little town out of trying to do the same just yet.
He presses his cold hand to his lower stomach again and checks, just to be sure. No blood. No open wounds. No unfamiliar scars. Just-- that nose-wrinkling lingering burnt flesh and skin smell.
"I'll be okay," he insists, not very comfortable with the attention. He's always struggled with accepting help. Especially when his paranoia is in overdrive and he can't force himself to trust anyone here.