As Sam’s anxiety spikes in return, Bucky finds himself breathing with Sam. He’s here, same as Sam, and he’ll always come back. He promised. Shit will get bad- that much he will never deny- but he will come back. As long as he survives this, as long as the programming hasn’t tipped him so far over the edge of the cliff that he can’t climb back up. Without Sam, yeah, he would have been a goner. But with him? Maybe the worst is passed, maybe not, but with Sam, he stands a fighting chance.

Breathe.

One-two-three-four-five.

Breathe.

Six-seven-eight-nine-ten.

Breathe.

They’re both here. They’re both alive. They can do this. He can feel Sam breathing and the beat of his heart pulsing through his throat, sending small ripples through the water.