[Bucky shudders in Sam's embrace, whether from the feverish burn coursing through his body or the weight of Sam's words, he's not sure but at this proximity, both mental and physical, there's nowhere left to run. His heart continues to thrum in his throat at a lightning pace, perhaps a little faster now. He disagrees, as he always does, but he's also deeply hesitant to do so directly, not while he can still feel the effects of his last effort. So, he lets Sam embrace him, mentally and physically, even as the usual questions rise. How does anyone know he's Bucky to begin with? How does anyone know he's worth all this trouble? He can't deserve this, not after everything, after Berlin, after the robbery.
He isn't hurting himself now, by running, by rationing his food and hiding like a rat. ]
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He isn't hurting himself now, by running, by rationing his food and hiding like a rat. ]