The kick may not connect, but Sam doesn't waste the momentum. He spins in midair, body twisting and wings flashing as he twirls before landing lightly on the ground, facing Wesker.

If he was fully himself, he'd think that he doesn't give a shit about what the Capitol would say. But as it is, there's a wave of confusion, of fear, of what is he doing he knows the rebels can't be trusted he's here for the Capitol.

Bucky attempting to stand and fight at his side anyway, despite the pain, cuts through it, replacing fear and disorientation with equal parts affection and exasperation.

"Stand down, farm boy, you think I swooped in here like this for you to hurt yourself more?"

There's anger in the snap of his voice despite the term of endearment, but it's mostly because his eyes are on Wesker. They gleam red, pupils flaring like the lens of a camera as his HUD vision activates and he scans for any weaknesses.

"Back off."

He wants to say not him, anyone but him, but he's already tipped his hand enough.