Steve manages to talk Bucky into returning to the truck for the last leg of the day's march. The terrain has turned rocky and uneven, and Bucky's steps had begun to waver and falter so much over the last mile, that Steve was worried Bucky wouldn't make it to the next safe stopping point at all.
Bucky insists he can keep going. Steve is pretty sure he can't go another step.
"Please, Bucky."
He thinks that Bucky's going to refuse, and that battle of wills he's been dreading all day is going to eat the rest of the afternoon. Fortunately (or maybe unfortunately) Bucky must be even more worn out than he looks, because after a few moments of hesitation, he looks away and nods.
"If it'll make ya feel better…" he mumbles.
"It will." Steve assures him. And you too he doesn't add.
When it comes to Bucky, Steve learned a long time ago to shut up while he's ahead. He's not sure there are two more stubborn human beings anywhere in existence than Bucky and himself. Maybe that's why they've always gotten along so well...
Despite a lot of token protesting that he's fine and doesn't need to be mothered, Bucky's out like a light almost immediately upon laying his head down. He doesn't appear to notice when the company packs up and moves on again. He doesn't even make a sound when the truck lurches and bumps over rough ground, and Steve has to check for the rise and fall of the arm draped over his friend's chest, just to make sure he's still breathing.