[ There's a shock. Remind him to jot it down in his mental record-keeping book. The day Steve Rogers didn't make himself do the painful thing because asking for relief would only help him, not anyone else.

Maybe that's not explicitly true, having that gauge on Steve's emotional state helps Bucky navigate this whole thing too.

Like before, his fingers find a patch of fur to thread through and smooth down again. A predictable, thoughtless pattern. What he's more focused on is trying to push through that reassurance, that confidence he feels, the calm it brings with him. ]

Before you tracked me down...

[ He starts, slowly and carefully like he's measuring his words and still on the fence about deciding to say them. ]

Back near the beginning, I felt like I was gonna crawl out of my own skin most days. Like I was always late for something, but I never knew what it was. Just ansty, agitated that I couldn't get there and get it over with, because I never stopped being late.

[ Maybe that doesn't make sense. It was a near-constant state of urgency, anxiety, nervous energy. Dread.

He doesn't feel any of that right now, only the vague discomfort that comes with talking about it at all.

Just wants to make it clear he can relate. That he kind of gets it. ]