The one thing on the company's mind was to get out of that forsaken Wood. However, it was on no one's mind heavier than Kíli's.

There was a force greater than moral obligation keeping Bucky from shooting himself in the stomach. Something deeper than fear and more powerful than hatred of the thing. It was what he felt when he remembered all those times he stood up for Steve in an alley or behind a diner, or made his friend chicken soup when he was too weak to do it himself. It was love.