"As far as I know, I am." Bruce's brow furrowed as he watched Bucky check the stalls, not acknowledging the atrocious state of the brand on his face. He slowly put his knife back on his belt. "Give me a chance to wrap my arm. Then I'll help you clean up that brand."

He deliberately phrased it as a statement, a given. He had medical experience, and an ally was hurt. He knew enough of soldier types to know that it was entirely possible that any offer of help would be resisted.

He rinsed the soap off his arm. It still hurt.