He shivered across his shoulders at the mention of DC, and his bowed his head. There were a lot of confusing flashes from that place, the city where he had partially awakened and realized some of the details of his life or rather his enslavement. He had not returned to DC after he had set out from it, and a cynical part of him couldn't believe that any place there was secure. He was too tired to really fight the idea, drawn too thin and frayed at the edges after so long hiding from so many details.

"I don't stay in any place more than forty-eight hours," he confided softly, shifting and wincing as the metal fused into his flesh twisted. He had to shift his weight in his crouch to compensate, drawing his hand away from Steve's face to brace on the side of the machine. "I need... help," he added, his eyebrows drawing together and his expression turning momentarily bleak. "I can't run anymore; it's too much. I need... you to help me sort out these jumbled details."

He said nothing but nodded slowly. It wasn't about arguing over details; it was finally attempting to trust someone who had not lied to him.