"You're not," he mutters, reaching up to wrap his fingers around Sam's own, tugging his hand down away from his face, squeezing gently and running his thumb across his knuckles. "The fucks that trapped us in here are hurting me, but not you," his teeth are clenched, making his words sound more like they were being ripped out of him than spoken.
After a moment, he shifts and sits Sam up a bit more, tucking the jacket closer around his shoulders, hoping it might help even the slightest bit more to keep some heat trapped around him. And then... he gets to his feet.
Bucky is done waiting around for a Hail Mary, he's just going to have to get them out of this himself. He flexes the fingers of his left hand, delightfully not numb or affected by the temperature at all.
If they want to take them out, they're going to have to try harder than this, because he's going to punch a hole through the goddamn wall if it's the last thing he does.
He doesn't hesitate to approach the door they'd had slammed shut on them earlier and starts raining punches into the steel-reinforced concrete door. First, just with his left, where he knows he has the most strength and power behind him despite being the non-dominant hand, but eventually his right hand joins the fray as well. The sound reverberates through their frozen cell, solid, heavy thuds and clanks of metal; it rocks the foundation of the room around them, and Sam can probably feel the vibration of each strike that Bucky makes.
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After a moment, he shifts and sits Sam up a bit more, tucking the jacket closer around his shoulders, hoping it might help even the slightest bit more to keep some heat trapped around him. And then... he gets to his feet.
Bucky is done waiting around for a Hail Mary, he's just going to have to get them out of this himself. He flexes the fingers of his left hand, delightfully not numb or affected by the temperature at all.
If they want to take them out, they're going to have to try harder than this, because he's going to punch a hole through the goddamn wall if it's the last thing he does.
He doesn't hesitate to approach the door they'd had slammed shut on them earlier and starts raining punches into the steel-reinforced concrete door. First, just with his left, where he knows he has the most strength and power behind him despite being the non-dominant hand, but eventually his right hand joins the fray as well. The sound reverberates through their frozen cell, solid, heavy thuds and clanks of metal; it rocks the foundation of the room around them, and Sam can probably feel the vibration of each strike that Bucky makes.