Okay, that--all of that--gave Bucky pause. He finally turned to look at her again, really look at her. Even beyond the obvious physical changes like her height and build, Bucky could see some other signs that she'd been through a lot. She looked a bit older, and definitely tired in a worn-down kind of way, not just a "Been a few hours since I last slept" way. And out of everything she mentioned that she'd been through, the thing that sounded the most insane to him was that her version of him had been so brainwashed that he'd nearly killed her.

Bucky would rather kill himself than her. Even this version of her that stole his timeline's Steph away.

Plus, there was the mention of the medical advancements. Bucky had always tried to be Steph's biggest supporter, trying to cheer her up when she was sick (or mad, or sad) and tried to keep her from her negative thinking about her health. He'd told her countless times that she was going to be fine, her health wasn't gonna take her out early, and all of those sorts of things, but that didn't mean he didn't worry about her. Because he did. All the goddamn time. Even if he tried not to show it.

Frowning, he looked away again. "Shit, if medicine's that much better there, maybe it'll be better for her than here." There he went again, putting Steph before himself. He could cheer her on and support her all he wanted, sure. But he couldn't cure her.