The relief he feels is practically palpable; he's so used to being surrounded by people who'd steadfastly refuse, who would run in and get themselves hurt. God, it's a nightmare to be so wrapped up in a mission and have to watch people you care about drop left and right - he's good at compartmentalization, but some people, some relationships transcend it.

He doesn't consider this playing the hero, either. He doens't, this isn't a war, it's just a lake. It's not heroic to pull people out before they suck in water and drown, it's just... The right thing to do.

He meets her lips quickly, a rushed thing before he's pulling himself to his feet. Her words catch him, a slight widening of his eyes because he's not sure how she plans on finishing the sentence at first, but all too soon it's dissolved into a nod.

And then he's off, breaking away to turn up the beach and search for struggling civilians.

She leaves him something to think about later, though. Something to consider, once he's alone and the world is calm. Bucky, I-.