[Bucky lifts his arm to curl it about Sam's waist in return, to keep him tucked safe and sound against him. It makes sense that Sam would have difficulty sleeping without him, as much as Bucky doesn't like admitting it. They're so deep in each others' heads it would be akin to having a piece of them surgically removed and expected to continue like nothing happened.
He remembers stumbling in the sand, his gait uneven as his vision dims. Don't let them-
Sam of course took that seriously, kept him from any who might want to poke around in his head. The talk of murder brings up a sting of anxiety, the question of what did I do? lingering just under his skin. He shuts his eyes to breathe- seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven- before refocusing on Sam.]
Get some sleep.
[That much is obvious: that Sam is exhausted and in need of rest more than Bucky.]
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He remembers stumbling in the sand, his gait uneven as his vision dims. Don't let them-
Sam of course took that seriously, kept him from any who might want to poke around in his head. The talk of murder brings up a sting of anxiety, the question of what did I do? lingering just under his skin. He shuts his eyes to breathe- seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven- before refocusing on Sam.]
Get some sleep.
[That much is obvious: that Sam is exhausted and in need of rest more than Bucky.]