If it all goes wrong Darling just hold on

“Love is a pretty powerful thing.”

Danny has always been his only constant in his adult life. His first decision as a free individual was to pick Danny and pair with him, and from that moment on they shared everything that life threw at them. In sickness and health. In the good times and the bad times. For better or for worse. He’s shared more of his life with Danny in these previous six years, than with Cath in twenty.

One or two scenes from 8x10 might come close second but this, this is pure gold.

Danny was devastated, simply devastated, when Steve almost casually threw in the memo about being under treatment for radiation poisoning (which he hadn’t told Danny about, so he must’ve felt really bad about lying to Danny, even if he did it to avoid him any worry, knowing how Danny IS the worst worrier) and possibly developing cancer down the years. Danny was planning to retire and run a restaurant with Steve so that they wouldn’t be apart, and here comes the dark cloud always hanging over his head and threats to take Steve away anyway. Of course Danny was scared shitless.

And of course, just like he’d always been trained to do, Steve was downplaying this worry for himself too, so that the dread would’ve become something manageable. Funny how the baby SEAL is the only one falling for this propaganda charade and actually believing Steve is managing just fine.

In the end, they’re both faking being ok and not talking about the elephant in the room (no, not THAT elephant, this other one, cancer-related), probably not talking about the cancer at all, since Steve would probably start downplaying it, poking Danny to see if he starts yelling and forgets the topic, while Danny catches the drift, stops talking about we-know-what and offers Steve one of his old-but-gold patented Williams rants. While shrivelling inside.

Here? Here it all comes to an end. Because Steve has understood that Danny is really scared to death about his health, if he’s ready to completely change his personality and behaviour if it means even just a 1% chance more to help him. They are admitting what comes easy to do with others, at least for Danny because he always worries, right? He nags, he worries, he’s relentless, he probably put them all in front of him and told them exactly what to tell Steve, simply to back Danny’s own words up. But I bet he didn’t tell in such detail, with such a brittle tone, with such an intensity, almost verging on tears, about the emotional impact the idea of a Steveless world had on him.

Because let’s be honest: we all know Danny risked his life, while being severely injured and not in top physical condition, just to give Steve half of his liver and hope to keep him in his life. He risked his life just like Steve had done with the motion sensor bomb. Same exact mood and goal and reason. But here he cannot help him. He’s right. It’s Steve’s problem and he cannot give him his marrow like with Charlie. He can just lay awake and stare at the ceiling, hoping Steve will find a way to care about himself, at least for Danny’s sake.

Danny needs Steve to choose self-care for Danny’s sake. Love. Whatever.

What Steve does here, for the first time, admitting his limits, accepting Danny’s worry like a sign of love, understanding his pleads are coming from love (just like when he didn’t jump from the rooftop because Danny had yelled him not to), and offering a human, a Steve-kinda proposal, not the military propaganda he has put on for facade’s sake, to keep living at his best for as long as he can:

I’m not gonna obsess over something that might happen, and I can’t let you do that, either. I’m serious about this. And there’s one other thing. Please, whatever she said to you, don’t-don’t do that. Don’t change. I love you, man, the way you are. I need it to stay that way. 

He needs Danny EXACTLY like he is. Not a drained puppet. He needs Danny’s energy, his passion, his colours, his fretting, his love, his yelling, his bickering, his affection. That’s part of Steve’s healing process. He’s already lost so much. He’s always thought he would’ve died young in combat, probably. He never put roots down, never thought about marriage or kids (remember Freddie and the helo talk? Steve’s face at the suggestion of going steady with Cath speaks volumes).

And then he meets a loud-mouthed Jersey cop yelling at him, punching him, not scared by him, and suddenly he gives up his duty and career, settle down, co-parents his kids, open a restaurant with him, so that they’ll never be apart. And in this context starts thinking about marriage and kids. No, Cath doesn’t count, because if that has really been a pondered decision for his future and not a desperate attempt at tying someone who was running away once again, Steve would’ve gone through and asked her anyway and let her decide. He let Cath go, but couldn’t even think about Danny retiring even if they were together all the time anyway.

Really, I’m not even surprised how he phrases it. Does he name Lynn, or Alicia, or somebody he might meet along the way? No. He names Danny’s kids. Thinking about future and a family, and he thinks about Danny:

You think I don’t want to live a long life? You think I don’t want to maybe get married someday? Have my own kids? I love your kids, All right. Charlie, Gracie, I want to watch them grow up. I want to see Joanie grow up.

Steve’s only future, however long it may be, is with Danny, the Danny who punched him and stole his heart, not a pale copy holding back in fear he might trigger some immunitary response.

And Danny understands. He gets it, and offers Steve exactly what he was fishing for: an epic eye roll, a mock insult, and possibly the next hour or three of ranting and bickering about nothing, even forgetting what they had started from. Danny is Steve’s only certainty. His north. And if Steve can try and hold back and take care of himself for Danny’s sake, even if it goes against everything that’s ever been drilled into him, then Danny can try and trust Steve’s promise and hope for a long future still together, despite his depression, negativity and anxiety.

Sebastian Stan as Bucky Barnes aka The Winter Soldier