"I'm fine," He said, smiling as he felt Bucky's lips on his forehead and those fingers down his spine. He was fine, though. Sort of. More like he was temporarily fine as long as his stitches held. They'd get help. Eventually. Whenever they got the hell out of these woods.

"Home," he said as closed his eyes and rested his head on Bucky's flesh shoulder. He was tired, exhausted, even, but he didn't trust anyone else around the arc reactor. The last few hours just proved that he couldn't trust anyone. Home was far. Distant. Miles away, but there were things they had to take care of. "But we have to find somewhere else first to get you help."

Yeah, that whole 'get seen at the same time' thing? Yeah, that wasn't happening. Bucky's healing factor would heal around those bullets and they had to dig them out. If they waited longer, they'd have a hell of a time patching him up. Besides he didn't even know where the hell they were at the moment. How long had they been gone and how far away from New York, were they?