Living on a razor's edge, danced with demons, tasted death

Sam hums in agreement. He feels like he's shivering less, and that's not a good sign either. He puts his head on Bucky's shoulder. His breaths are little puffs against the man's neck.

"You still owe me a car, though."

He doesn't hesitate to give Bucky shit for that, in his own way. Never actually blames him for anything the Winter Soldier did, just... gently ribs him. That's what he does. It's what they do.