That’s a particular thought and Steve assumes it’s because of whatever Bruce himself is. He’s growing restless and tired at the same time, though, leaning slightly back towards Bucky. It used to be easy for the other to be a leaning post for him. It used to be very easy for him to just recline back on his heels and have Bucky take the brunt of his weight. This time, however, he can actually feel his friend stumble and Steve isn’t sure if that’s because of who he is now and might always be later, or if Bucky just doesn’t want to be touched.

In all of this, he had stupidly, momentarily forgotten that Bucky is suffering from war, from his imprisonment, and from every day life after torture. He turns to look over his shoulder when Tony pokes his head out of the door and barks for Bruce’s help.

Thank god for that. Steve is having trouble with his scent. The whole thing is just so off to him, clouding Bucky’s far more pleasing smell. The moment the doctor leaves, Steve sits down hard on the couch.

“I have a bad feeling about this, Buck, but we have to get that dog off the street if this is what a bite can do. I don’t feel right anymore.”

And he’s terrified.