Bucky's entire body was tense, shivering, his hand clenching and unclenching, chest heaving. He tensed even more, at the touch, though the voice (familiar, not that voice) kept him from flinching away (kept him from lashing out). But his eyes were still too wide, too afraid. Unseeing.

And then Steve spoke, and his attention snapped up to the man, the familiarity and comfort of that voice overriding even his panic. Only then did the word register, too.

Safe.

Not falling. Not alone, not in their hands again, not running. Not caught.

He took a deep breath and held it, eyes fixed on Steve's. Then, ever so slowly, he made his hand relax - then reach up to cup the back of Peggy's hand on his face (deliberate, but not conscious). Not looking away from his friend's eyes.

"I'm... sorry." His voice was still rough. But, at least, he was finally back here in the warm, comfortable room. Mostly. "I shouldn't've..."

He trailed off.