Bucky is just glad that Steve isn't protesting like an idiot that he doesn't have any questions, because then he'd have to kick his ass. He made the decision not to run and still be here, which means he was also understanding that in staying he was accepting Steve back into his life and, by extension, Steve's help. That means he needs to get some stuff out of the way.

But when he says he'll answer questions, he doesn't mean in detail. He can't. He's able to talk about what happened but only by shutting down and replying as if it happened to someone else, facts only. His expression shutters a bit, going blank, and he turns his gaze down to his burger as if it holds the facts of life.

"It was a trap, the assignment. We got ambushed. Six of us, me included, two died during the fight. Rest of us were taken to an insurgent camp. Four months."

He hesitates a second, a shadow over his face. He doesn't expand beyond the time they spent in the camp, but he's sure Steve will fill in the blanks. Torture, questioning, deprivation.

"There was trouble one night and one of the guards left his knife behind. I cut my hand off at the wrist to get out of the shackle, found the keys, let out the other two still alive and we ran. It was septic when we got back to base, they had to take the rest to keep it from killing me."

He pulls his loose sleeve up, showing Steve that the prosthetic goes all the way up to his shoulder. It's not the whole story. He can't talk about the stuff that was done to them in the camp, stuff that killed one of the other survivors and left the remaining three with issues beyond PTSD. Memory issues, brain damage of various levels, Morita was blind in one eye now.

"I've been Stateside since it was safe to move me, about a month ago. Maybe six weeks."