"I'm right here," Bucky says in almost a whisper, a desperateness clinging to his words -- one he can't shake. He's not whole, he's clinging to the edge of sanity by the tips of fingers, but he's here. Maybe it won't be enough, but it's something, one of the few good things this island has given them both, for all its torture; Bucky's not lost, and he hasn't been for a while.