His first instinct is to squeeze his eyes shut, like that's gonna block out the snippets of memory he's picking up. But he doesn't, because it's not gonna help, and instead he does his best to pull it in and then let it go.

Sam knows Bucky can't let him take his injuries, can't let Sam take the pain that's meant for him, so he hasn't. He didn't while they fought that night with Rogue - gave Bucky his own injuries, to get an advantage - and he didn't for as long as Bucky stayed with him after, and he didn't when he found Bucky like this, and he still hasn't, and it's...

It's a fight. Every moment it's a fight not to heal him, when his symbiote ability can sense exactly how much his broodmate is hurting and how easy it would be to make it stop, and he keeps fighting. But he's exhausted, and he doesn't know how much longer he can hold it back.

His hand covers Bucky's on his leg. He doesn't have the words to explain at the moment, but there's a jumbled up impression: he's not gonna take the pain so Bucky can't feel it, won't mess with the programming's punishment, he's just gonna make it easier on both of them because if Bucky can't breathe he can't breathe and -

His mind smoothes out, wraps more purposefully around Bucky's, somewhere between folded wings and a draped blanket.

( Trust me? )