When he did bother to drink, he would prefer to drink alone. It allowed him to mull shit over, and he had more than his share now that things were gearing up to be messy in the next little while. He was going to have to know where Barnes was to steer Rogers away from it.

He looked up from soul-searching at the bottom of his tumbler and peered at Steve in the doorway. "Do I have to call you that? I prefer Captain Rogers," he said before tasting his whiskey. "I suppose following at your heels is better than going back to the 107 and climbing over allied corpses."