Bucky couldn't help but obey, turning his head to look at Steve without looking at the splotch of red on his dark shirt. Breathing hurt, but he knew as well as Steve did that the best thing Bucky could do was breathe. His chest was a clutch of panicked breathlessness and he wasn't sure how much was his chest wound and how much was his looming panic attack.

He looked at Steve with wide eyes, shoulders heaving with every breath.

But as much as breathing deeply hurt, it did help. Bucky kept his eyes on Steve's chest, trying to match their breaths instead of letting himself hyperventilate. Deep breaths hurt, but quick, shallow ones just made his panic worse.