It's the way that he says it that manages to drag Steve out of his own disappointment and the amplified feeling of loss that comes from losing over a year with your best girl and your best guy. Even if Bucky doesn't say that he needed him, Steve can hear it in his voice. He can see it on his face and it breaks his heart.

He would've given anything to have been there when they'd found Bucky. To stand by him as he recovered. To make him see that things were going to be alright. But he hadn't been. He'd been buried under ice. Somewhere he'd gone willingly, not just because there was no other way. But because, if he was honest with himself, he didn't know if he could live with the guilt of living without Bucky. It had been his choice to go out that way. He still wasn't sure in his heart if it had been the bravest one.

Bucky's hand was heavy on Steve's shoulder. Heavy with the weight of knowing that Bucky would give up the one person who had helped him through this terrible time. Would walk away from Peggy if that was what Steve wanted. And even if there was an echo of that old resigned voice that told him Bucky could have any girl he wanted, he knew that wasn't the truth anymore. Not only because the war had changed all of them, made them stronger and weaker by turns, but because this girl was Peggy Carter. She wasn't the type to be had, unless she wanted to be.

Steve pushed up, against the weight of Bucky's hand. Once he was on his feet he reached out to grab Bucky's arm, squeezing it. "Bucky, listen to me. If you ever talk about leaving again, I will deck you so hard, you'll think you're Hitler."

Steve raised his eyebrows and waited for Bucky to acknowledge this before patting him on the arm. He forced a smile. "It's fine. We're fine."