He's not sure how much more he was expecting, or hoping, to get. More, maybe, just because of Bucky's demeanor. That he's got answers at all only means more questions, though, and they're each fighting in the queue on the way out of his mouth for another handful of seconds, his arms crossing over his chest.
It's the conversation with Natasha that's the deciding factor. No point in beating around the bush is right.
But it's that same sense of dread curling in his stomach from before when he finally asks: ]
no subject
He's not sure how much more he was expecting, or hoping, to get. More, maybe, just because of Bucky's demeanor. That he's got answers at all only means more questions, though, and they're each fighting in the queue on the way out of his mouth for another handful of seconds, his arms crossing over his chest.
It's the conversation with Natasha that's the deciding factor. No point in beating around the bush is right.
But it's that same sense of dread curling in his stomach from before when he finally asks: ]
How long've you been here, Buck?
[ There's more than a few things off. ]