[Bucky's getting to his feet when Sam reaches through the brood link to hold onto him, to anchor him in the here and now. Seven-eight. He's rusty, hasn't practiced in what feels like forever.]
(Lost you.) [It surges out of him, unbidden in the face of the electric sensation wracking his nerves. He's not sure if he should sit or stand, if he should run again or stay.
The Soldier swings his metal arm into his opponent, a fellow soldier struggling with the serum. The Soldier doesn't hold back as he brings his fist down again and again. But then there's a knife in the other man's hand, flashing toward him. The Soldier is too slow and fire erupts between his ribs.
He lost.
His feet go out from under him as arms curl under his shoulders and drag him back toward his pod.
no subject
( Lost you. ) [It surges out of him, unbidden in the face of the electric sensation wracking his nerves. He's not sure if he should sit or stand, if he should run again or stay.
The Soldier swings his metal arm into his opponent, a fellow soldier struggling with the serum. The Soldier doesn't hold back as he brings his fist down again and again. But then there's a knife in the other man's hand, flashing toward him. The Soldier is too slow and fire erupts between his ribs.
He lost.
His feet go out from under him as arms curl under his shoulders and drag him back toward his pod.
He lost.]