[Scott is swaying, though there's not much to tell by: the device isn't illuminating him very well, on the floor as it is. He feels like he's going to pitch forward any minute, and his head is still swimming. The spots won't go away.
Something else shows up, though. Something that doesn't wear a suit all the time yet, something that's more often seen with a bottle in his hand. And he looks angry.
The choking sounds, which has slowed with Bucky's help, start to get worse. He's still wheezing - which is good, in a way, air is still moving through his chest - but he's tipping forward again, scrabbling in the dirt for his communicator.]
no subject
Something else shows up, though. Something that doesn't wear a suit all the time yet, something that's more often seen with a bottle in his hand. And he looks angry.
The choking sounds, which has slowed with Bucky's help, start to get worse. He's still wheezing - which is good, in a way, air is still moving through his chest - but he's tipping forward again, scrabbling in the dirt for his communicator.]
What're you - it's - my fault, please--