Bucky winces on top of him. Steve can only see his face dimly, but he doesn't need to see every nuance of expression to know just how confused and distraught the other man is. Not with him on top of Steve like this, not with Steve's hyper awareness of every single muscle.

His nostrils flare as the knife presses further into him. There's a tiny dot of warmth. It's broken the skin.

Bucky's in an utter panic and Steve is about ready to deck him if necessary. If, y'know, it wouldn't involve the knife going through Steve's throat. He's prepared to try to grab it if he has to, but it's better if he can talk Bucky through this one way or another.

..............oh.

Oh, no.

That's what it's about.

Steve feels his brain whir into furious thought, with a layer of glacial stillness and focus on top of it. He can't get this wrong, because if he fails to respond correctly Bucky will break completely.

"You're doing well," he says firmly, putting a snap of authority into his tone. "You're a good soldier, Bucky."

He won't call him an Asset. Can't do that. (Maybe... maybe later, if Bucky needs it.)

"Your orders right now are to get off me, and to stand down."