"I'm still learning," Bucky admits. Being the Winter Soldier meant that he'd never needed to, or been able to, really think about what had become of his body. It's only now that he's really been able to, and even then all he can do is try not to think about it too much.

He smiles at the Brooklyn comment. "I'd like to go back home. But I don't know, I figure people would be looking for us there." But then again, maybe he doesn't actually care. It'd be a lot easier if things hadn't turned out so poorly-- he sighs, scratching at the side of his jaw. "But you're right. I don't want to be on the run forever. I'm tired of running, it's not good for me."

His smile is strained, but Bucky doesn't look as tired as he feels. "You sure you don't want to become a Wakandan farmer? Might suit you."