"Hey..." Steve looked down at Bucky, gently brushing his cheek. "If I needed a doctor, I'd go see one. I don't. I'm a little sore, but nothing time won't fix." He let his lips brush down to Bucky's temple, lightly kissing it. "Yeah, some of the blood is mine, but not all of it."

The feeling of being without Bucky had been unbearable. It had taken Natasha and Sam just to get him to keep going. Only them reminding him Bucky wouldn't want him to act that way was the only thing that pushed him forward. Bucky would want him to keep fighting, so he did.

"You remember when we were back in Brooklyn? That lug had beat me up so bad. If it wasn't for you, I don't know what I would have done. Left a shiner for days?" He sighed, his hold on Bucky tight, one hand rubbing up and down his good arm. "You kept me safe, Buck. Now it's my turn."