[ Yuri almost doesn't want to let it go. It takes him a moment, to remind himself to breathe. That it's okay. Then, slowly, he allows himself to uncurl his fingers, to surrender the knife into Bucky's hand. He holds on to his arm, feeling blood bloom against the gauze, pain beginning to blossom there as he finally starts the slow comedown from his adrenaline high. All he can think to do, all he can find to do as Bucky talks to him is nod. It's all right that he doesn't have any antiseptic, any water. It's fine, he's not going to get gangrene in the time it takes to get over to someone who can wash it out properly, right? ]
It's fine. [ He finally manages, voice low. He takes a deep breath, suddenly wanting to get up, stand up. Maybe start running, do something, he doesn't know what. But he knows that it isn't the right decision, not right then. So he waits, and lets Bucky finish what he's doing first, knocking his head back and sucking in sharp, shuddering breaths. ]
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It's fine. [ He finally manages, voice low. He takes a deep breath, suddenly wanting to get up, stand up. Maybe start running, do something, he doesn't know what. But he knows that it isn't the right decision, not right then. So he waits, and lets Bucky finish what he's doing first, knocking his head back and sucking in sharp, shuddering breaths. ]