Steve wants to argue that he knows exactly who Bucky is. He's the man who pulled Steve from the river when it would have been easier to let him drown. He's the man who dragged him here in the snow and who's trying to warm him up and feed him. Maybe he doesn't remember all those little details that make up Bucky, but he's still Bucky and it's plain as day to Steve. Coming here had been right.

He'd always hated being taken care of, because he'd always had to work twice as hard to prove himself to everyone around him. Taking help from Bucky is a little easier, because he'd never had to prove a thing to Bucky. Bucky had always just had his back. Even now, he seems to.

Moving closer, he soaks up the heat from the fire and settles in again before starting to remove his bag so he can set the shield against it. He rolls his shoulders to try to get rid of the stiffness he can feel there, but he knows they'll feel even worse tomorrow.

"Thanks, Buck."