Nah, just resting my eyes. [ He'd grown long-since accustomed to catching little snatches of sleep wherever he can; drifting off, waking up, immediately jumping right back into the saddle with a gun in his hand. Here, though... Sequestered away in a plane above the city, Bucky almost(?) feels safe. Somebody could always still get onto the Bus — villains can fly too, and HYDRA can infiltrate SHIELD, he knows that better than anyone — but there's something to that background drone and knowing that they're out-of-reach of most people that makes him, finally, breathe out a little.

He shifts on the bed, swinging his legs back out and rubbing at his face, elbows propped against his knees. His jacket's hanging on a hook nearby. ]

Sorry. About all this hassle. Didn't exactly mean to drag your whole workplace into having to deal with a scuffle in my neighbourhood.

[ 'Scuffle', he says. ]