He had read that letter, though not until long after it had been written. The doctors had given him all the mail that had been collected while he'd been-- away, and gave it to him in the hopes it would help. It did in some ways, the curve of the way Steve formed his letters and the gentle sarcasm in Becca's letters had helped remind him of home, and a world outside of the one he'd got trapped in.

"A few blocks over, I've got an apartment on Goddard."

It's a place that's not quite the rich part of Brooklyn, but better than the place Steve is staying. His is mostly hipsters and the people hoping that their part of Brooklyn will soon be subsumed and made into the trendy part so that they can move up in the world.

He has an irrational urge to turn Steve around and make him go and get his stuff from Sanford and put it in Bucky's apartment, to make him live somewhere safer and better. The frown on his face looks more like the old Bucky than anything has before, concern and affection blended together.

"You've gotta get out of that dump, Steve, it ain't good for your lungs. There's rot in all the walls and mould in the ceilings."