[Oh, it's probably a wonder the entire Barge didn't hear Bucky lecturing. At the top of his lungs. But honestly, it's almost the closest Bucky's been to his "normal" self since he came back. Steve hates that this has him so pissed off, but he still feels like it was the right thing to do.]

Nah. Four years - if you discount the nap. [You know, the sixty-seven-year one. Still - he lets out a breath.] Probably won't take me as long to figure out where the doorknobs and light switches are supposed to be, this time. [So yeah, that's him admitting it hasn't been bump-free, but he's fine. He's managing.]

Yeah - yeah, I have an inhaler. I'm good. I think the Admiral put a couple in the infirmary, but sometimes it's hard to tell if he's serious, so... I guess I might need to take you up on that sometime.

[But seriously, pal, he's worried about you.] Okay. Please do, or I'm gonna have to come down and check on you and undermine your authority and I'm sure it'll embarrass you in front of your girlfriend. [He's kidding, but he really wants to make sure you're taking care of yourself, because God knows Steve wouldn't be.]

This isn't your fault. [He glances down.] And I really don't envy you, but you've got my support. For whatever that's worth. [Dean is (literally, ha) sort of an inmate from hell, and Stiles is doing his best, and this is not a reflection on that.]