But for a moment, he had his friend back. Not just physically, but in all matters of the soul as well. He lets Bucky tug him for the bus, and skirts around in front of him to pay the fare with the few coins in his pocket. He doesn't sit, instead choosing to hold onto one of the overhead bars so he can half-hide his face. He's too well-known. At least on the streets, you pass people. On a bus, you may be stuck with the same person staring at you for minutes too long.

He doesn't care. He just positions himself to hide Bucky's face as well as he can, and watches him quietly. He sees the struggle, knows it - not well, but enough that he's aware of it happening. And he doesn't know how to help, except to be there to pull him out of the worst of it.

His shield is suddenly heavy on his back, and he sags a little, letting the bar take his weight. Some of.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, not even certain as to why he says it. Just that it matters, in that moment.