There were a multitude of awful things about this conversation, if Steve stopped to think of it, but one of the very worst was the look in Bucky's eyes. Something about it made him appear miles away, like maybe the Bucky Steve had known really was gone. Steve wasn't prepared to accept that though, that was precisely the kind of thing that would make him dig in his heels, something he'd refuse to accept.
Even if Bucky was changed, at his core he was still the same kid who'd gone to bat for Steve a thousand times over, who had stuck with him through thick and thin, who'd been able to make him laugh when things seemed so bleak. He'd been there for the best things and the worst things, and however much Steve had argued that he could get by on his own, he knew he'd always have Bucky to lean on when he needed him.
Now, as far as Steve was concerned, it was Bucky's turn to do some leaning. Steve could handle it.
"I'm not asking you for anything," Steve said, which wasn't strictly true, maybe, since he was very much asking - demanding - that Bucky continue to be his friend. But that wasn't a request that was meant to take anything from Bucky, that wasn't about wanting anything from him. "There's nothing that I want from you except letting me be there for you. That's what friends do, Buck, c'mon, haven't you always been there for me when I needed it? Even when I thought I didn't?"
Bucky had never taken no for an answer, after all, and Steve wasn't about to either.