[Yeah, so he knew he wasn't picking the right question to answer, and he also knew Bucky was going to call him on it. Still, you can't fault a guy for trying.]
Gosh, you sure know how to stroke a guy's ego. [Definitely pot and kettle and all that, and the look he's leveling at you now should say that much, pal.
But he shrugs, because all he's really got to say to that is,] Did you ever sleep much when I wasn't feeling my best?
[He knows the answer is no. So how can you expect him to be one hundred percent when you aren't, either?
Even if he knows that if he looks bad... it's because he feels a hundred times worse. But it's mostly just exhaustion and worry. Two things he's shouldered for a long time, and he can keep right on shouldering them. He plans to.]
But don't you dare go feeling bad about it, stupid, because it's my choice. [His choice to worry about you, and he's going to, no matter what.
He blinks at the question - and realizes how what he'd said sounded, ends up shaking his head a little.] No - not really. I mean... [He gives this small, wry smile; yeah, actually, for a while, at first, he did worry something would go wrong. Can you blame him?
But not anymore.
The fact that he mostly - finally - sees the person staring back at him in the mirror as himself helps, though. When you spend twenty-five years in one body, it's hard to get used to another, even when it's actually the same one. It really didn't feel that way, at first, and even four years feels like barely enough time to acclimate.]
I just meant, I'm fine - because come on, you'd still worry about me getting the flu if you could convince yourself it'd happen. [Mom.]
And I still have the same responsibility I ever had. [The day Erskine gave him this gift - because that's still what he considers it, in a lot of ways - was the day he knew he'd have to use it for the rest of his life, to do everything he'd always wanted to do. To protect the people who didn't have the strength to do it themselves.
It's at least part of the reason why he works all the time.]
[spam]
Gosh, you sure know how to stroke a guy's ego. [Definitely pot and kettle and all that, and the look he's leveling at you now should say that much, pal.
But he shrugs, because all he's really got to say to that is,] Did you ever sleep much when I wasn't feeling my best?
[He knows the answer is no. So how can you expect him to be one hundred percent when you aren't, either?
Even if he knows that if he looks bad... it's because he feels a hundred times worse. But it's mostly just exhaustion and worry. Two things he's shouldered for a long time, and he can keep right on shouldering them. He plans to.]
But don't you dare go feeling bad about it, stupid, because it's my choice. [His choice to worry about you, and he's going to, no matter what.
He blinks at the question - and realizes how what he'd said sounded, ends up shaking his head a little.] No - not really. I mean... [He gives this small, wry smile; yeah, actually, for a while, at first, he did worry something would go wrong. Can you blame him?
But not anymore.
The fact that he mostly - finally - sees the person staring back at him in the mirror as himself helps, though. When you spend twenty-five years in one body, it's hard to get used to another, even when it's actually the same one. It really didn't feel that way, at first, and even four years feels like barely enough time to acclimate.]
I just meant, I'm fine - because come on, you'd still worry about me getting the flu if you could convince yourself it'd happen. [Mom.]
And I still have the same responsibility I ever had. [The day Erskine gave him this gift - because that's still what he considers it, in a lot of ways - was the day he knew he'd have to use it for the rest of his life, to do everything he'd always wanted to do. To protect the people who didn't have the strength to do it themselves.
It's at least part of the reason why he works all the time.]