He starts to protest when she says I don't deserve it, because she does, of course she does --

-- and then she keeps going, and the realization hits him with the force of an explosion.

Bucky stares at her, mind reeling, as his hand tightens compulsively on hers, as understanding crashes in.

"No, I couldn't." He manages to force the words past his lips, even as a cold, distant, all-too-familiar part of him points out that he could let her believe this, that it would resolve the overall situation if he did.

Except that he can't. He can't. Not and be who he is. Who he wants to be.

"I couldn't have said that. Because it would be a lie."