"When I tried to keep you out!" Bucky yelled back. "The only, the only thing I knew how to remember to give a damn about and you threw it away to volunteer for some kid who probably kicked off in a factory two years later! Fuck you! You and your goddamn martyr bullshit," Bucky snarled. "It always had to be you - you set it right, you do the right thing, you stand down the bullies. Your way, you're right, you know best. You haul Barton off without asking him if he can stand to be in his own head without wanting to stab out his eyes while he's sober. You swing at everything like just charging in with the right way is the only thing to do. You can't stand down the world! It was always about YOU needing to show you could!" It hadn't been, not entirely, and Bucky knew that. Steve HAD just wanted to do the right thing, protect people. But he'd had a chip on his shoulder and nothing that could shake that, too. Bucky had always known that was part of it, he'd just never spit it in Steve's face quite the same way.
"I had a choice! There's always a choice, it's just a shit choice. I could have laid down and died - I didn't. You could have picked up a rock and beat someone to death - you didn't. THIS is my choice. Not watching you go in again. I fucking choose to do that. You won't come out. You'll be dead on a million screens and I'll be STILL HERE, and you won't be, and fuck that. You got out. You came out YOU. You stay out," Bucky said. "I'll find a way. I don't care." Steve was making sense, and Bucky knew it. But he refused to believe it. He couldn't. "It's not going to be you. I won't let it," Bucky said again, just as stubborn as Steve and staring back, mutinous and furious.