Everything about Bucky spoke of distance: the look in his eyes, the way his body tilted away from Steve, the short, flat responses to Steve's questions. None of it was designed to allow Steve to get close, to connect to Bucky the way he always had before. Steve should have expected it. Bucky had been through a horrific, traumatizing event, after all, of course he was going to be changed by that. Steve maybe just hadn't anticipated that Bucky might be different with him.
He'd never learned how to keep his true feelings from showing on his face, and Steve winced a little at the reminder of Bucky's win, the acknowledgment that Bucky had come so close to losing not just his arm, but his life. It had been agonizing to stand in the square with the rest of District 8 while Bucky's Games played out on the screen before them; he'd wanted to look away more than once, but he'd felt like he'd owed it to Bucky, to stand witness to what the Capitol was doing to him.
"I know," Steve said quietly. "I saw." Everything he could possibly say felt useless in the face of what Bucky had been forced to endure. "You - you did what you had to." He didn't blame Bucky for it, not when he and every other Tribute was a mouse to the Capitol's sadistic cat, which liked to play with its food before it devoured it. The Victors who went on to do the Capitol's dirty work - well, Steve had some thoughts about that, but he couldn't lay any blame for someone's actions within the arena. Humans had a deeply ingrained survival instinct, and he wouldn't fault someone for doing whatever it took to make it through the Games.
As soon as the words left his mouth, Steve knew that asking Bucky how he was doing was a stupid question. Bucky flinched, and when he answered, his voice was horrible and flat.
"Hey," Steve said, his brow creasing in worry. "That's - that was a dumb question, I'm sorry, but you don't - you can tell me, you know that, right? We can talk about it. I know I can't - that I wasn't there, that I didn't experience what you did, but I'm - I'm still here for you, Buck. However much you gotta lean on me, I can take it."
He reached out then - slowly, clearly signaling his intent - to lay a hand on Bucky's shoulder. It was the kind of easy touching they'd done countless times over the years, and even if it wasn't the hug that Steve so desperately wanted, it was still a step in the right direction.