Bucky welcomes the distraction, grateful for pulling away from the pressure of the water in his lungs and the skeletons on his back. Sure, he might not know what an NSYNC is, but the story brings a bubble of warmth to the surface. He's glad Sam has numerous good memories to fall back on when Bucky seems to have so limited a selection. It's so tempting to want to dive into Sam's memory headfirst, to not look back, but he's here in this tank for a reason.

He can't sleep for the sight of Sam wearing blood-glossed fabric, goes to the shores to gather moss from rocks that still give off heat from the previous day's sun.

He doesn't want to avoid the hallucination entirely, no matter his inborn survival instinct. He almost feels safer, which is stupid and weird and oxymoronic, with the guilt. No one can blame him unexpectedly if he shoulders it automatically.