She might be surprised to find her last thought closest to the actual truth. But as she didn't volunteer those thoughts and he didn't volunteer his past, that particular conversation didn't come to pass. It was likely for the best, truth be told: nothing good came of looking for the dead, and in many ways Bucky Barnes had died at the hands of HYDRA again and again and again.

Still, what other name was he to use?

The smile threw him a little; despite her overly friendly manner through the entire interaction thus far, he still considered himself poor company. That someone showed willingness to see past that was shocking. Perhaps it was an effect of this place, that a man with a metal arm was not so unusual. Or perhaps it was something else. Either way he considered her again, another sweep from head to toe before following the line of her arm. She clearly prided herself on her work here; could he fault her industry when he'd found none of his own?

"Why?" he asked finally, eyes returning to her face. "I'm not pleasant to be around, so why would you think it's a pleasure enough to offer to share something with me?" At least his words had let go some of the anger to replace it with a thread of curiosity instead.