By the time Bucky speaks up, Steve's read the same sentence five times. He likes the book, but he can't focus on it. If he's honest, watching Bucky's impressive climb up to his bunk had been more distracting than the book is.

It's a kind offer. That's not something Steve takes for granted. He likes to see the best in people, but he's learned to temper his expectations. It's a little touching, if he's honest, but that doesn't change who he is.

"I really don't." He's unhappy enough that Bucky even knows he had a nightmare. It doesn't matter that Bucky admitted to his own nightmares or that he doesn't seem to be judging Steve. Steve doesn't like feeling vulnerable and he doesn't like talking about anything like this. Sometimes he still feels like that skinny kid who used to get picked on. He'd always had to prove himself back then and that hasn't really changed with the added years or muscle.

He closes his book and leans back against the wall, head craning up to look at the bottom of Bucky's bunk. "But thank you, Buck. I mean it."