A puff of breath escapes him and gets swallowed by the shower tile; something that isn't a laugh if only because it's lacking real humor. His heart gives a lurch, a sudden stop and double-time in his chest. He'd have to go and do that, wouldn't he? Have to jump straight to conclusions that involve concern, giving a shit, involve bringing up things that matter like really cares.

The scrubbing stops again. Barnes licks his lips, considering, sifting through possible explanations that vary between truth and outright lie. The closer to the former he gets, the harder it feels like it is to breathe. Probably not the bleach.

"No, Steve, it's not..." He starts, slow and measured, just a touch discernibly apologetic. Suddenly really damn glad they're separated by a partition and he can't see Steve's face. "It's not that, it's... I'm tryin' to work something out, is all."