"I'd missed them too." Steve hadn't realized how much he'd missed his Commandos at first. The sting of loss had been present at first, a nagging reminder that he wasn't supposed to be there, that he should have fought the rest of the war by their sides. That pain eased slowly, as he threw himself back into a brand new world of Avengers and aliens and people from other dimensions. It never really went away, though. It was why he thought he related so well to the refugees: he understood what it was like to wake up in a new world he didn't understand, with no friends or family.
Now two of his Commandos were back, and Steve remembered how lonely it was without them. He loved Tony, and the other Avengers had done more than he'd ever expected to help him out, but they couldn't replace what he'd lost.
Steve mirrored Sharon, avoiding making eye contact as he looked at the food. "Some. Maybe a lot." It wasn't the only reason, but Bucky was his family. Finding Bucky - or if not that, finding those who were connected to him and making them pay - was something tangible Steve could do. He couldn't fix every wrong, but he could help his best friend. "Bucky saved me. I think. I'm pretty sure..." He shook his head sadly. "I need to find him."