The idea of working with her to deprogram himself is something that has him looking wary again, but he doesn't automatically refuse. Partly because she isn't saying whether it would be a good idea or not, just offering it as an option and leaving it there. He hadn't been used to those decisions being left up to him when the med team in Wakanda had started working on him either, but she's moving on and unconsciously he sits up as her voice takes on a briefing tone.
And then he slumps again. Steve's here? Stark's here? That could go a whole lot of ways, especially if they both remember that fight in Siberia. He sometimes feels like he's still got bruises from that. "Hell," he mutters, the annoyed wrinkling of his nose making him look more like the Bucky Barnes from the old newsreel footage than he has at all so far. But again, he can't dwell on it, there's another issue here. It's an issue he's been wrestling with for months, too, and he hadn't quite settled on an answer before Steve caught up with him in Romania.
"I dunno," he says with a little shrug. "Lots of people call me Bucky. I know I used to be Bucky Barnes. It's not like I wouldn't answer to it, I know that used to be my name." But it doesn't sit right. He has all the Bucky-memories, he doesn't flinch when Steve calls him that, but it doesn't feel like him. Not really.
He looks at the metal arm for a long time, and even though he's sure she must be wanting to get on with her day, whatever that's like here, Natasha waits for him. "James," he says at last, looking up at her again, and there's something more settled in his features now. "What about you?"
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And then he slumps again. Steve's here? Stark's here? That could go a whole lot of ways, especially if they both remember that fight in Siberia. He sometimes feels like he's still got bruises from that. "Hell," he mutters, the annoyed wrinkling of his nose making him look more like the Bucky Barnes from the old newsreel footage than he has at all so far. But again, he can't dwell on it, there's another issue here. It's an issue he's been wrestling with for months, too, and he hadn't quite settled on an answer before Steve caught up with him in Romania.
"I dunno," he says with a little shrug. "Lots of people call me Bucky. I know I used to be Bucky Barnes. It's not like I wouldn't answer to it, I know that used to be my name." But it doesn't sit right. He has all the Bucky-memories, he doesn't flinch when Steve calls him that, but it doesn't feel like him. Not really.
He looks at the metal arm for a long time, and even though he's sure she must be wanting to get on with her day, whatever that's like here, Natasha waits for him. "James," he says at last, looking up at her again, and there's something more settled in his features now. "What about you?"