He's more tired than he first realised and the feeling is followed with a vicious burst of self-loathing for his weakness. It's not right, he has to be stronger, better. A week in a cramped cell with no medical attention and occasional beatings has taken its toll though, as has not been able to stretch his legs properly in that time. But Bucky knows he'll recover soon enough even with the way the Capitol has made him so long as his wound is treated properly.

"I had it before." he says, reluctant to use the word home. Home is not the word for where he'd been in their own world, not even before he'd ended up on hiding out on the streets of Washington.

Bucky continues to watch Bruce's every move and then he shifts, straightening up when he puts on those rubber gloves, trying not to flash back to the men who'd maintained him back in the Hydra facilities. This is not the same, this is a man that Steve Rogers trusts, that Bucky should also trust.

His right hand still has the knife held securely as he faces Bruce as instructed. Focus. He takes in a deep slow breath.