That answer stops him short. He'd expected a deflection, or a lie, or something other than the words that slip from Rumlow's mouth. It's phrased as something that's a possibility instead of a certainty, but that's all framing. He doesn't really know what to make of it, how to process that. The man here, burned and scarred, and saying that he'd cared enough to care about getting him out and the very fact of how long it takes him to say it, the way he still seems to duck around the edges of the admittance of it says a lot.

Not that Rumlow isn't a terrifying manipulator, but he's remembering pieces now, and some of that means that he remembers things about him, too. Not quite enough for him to trust that he can read him entirely, but it's something. Enough for the irritation and the hesitance to seem genuine enough, even if Rumlow does try to make it seem casual. He doesn't kill him, doesn't throw that admittance back in his face, but the other man moves quickly onto the next point. They both know there's no way he can keep from biting at the bait.

He doesn't trust that it's real, just that they both know it's his biggest weakness. "How?" His eyes are sharp, laser focus as he looks at him, something in his stance changing- dangerous waters. The problem is that Rumlow has to know that as much as this is perfect bait, it's also the sort of thing that might fast turn this violent if it's an attempt to play him. The subject of it is still too raw and too vulnerable for anything else.

But if it's not a ploy, Rumlow cares enough to want to fix him, and that's something he could work with. He knows Rumlow has his own angle, and his own benefits, but this is hardly just selfish.