Half-expecting to never see the book again, Bucky is pleasantly surprised at the turn of events, the new line of questioning. He pushes the vacant chair out from the other side of the table with his shoes, inviting the other man to sit while his right hand busies itself stacking some of the folios and books scattered around the table into a neater pile.

"I saw. Something." He's not so much wary of talking to someone else about what happened so much as he is distrusting of his own perception of reality. The only reason he's willing to even say anything about it is because he saw with his own eyes that he wasn't the only one who blacked out and hit the floor at the town square.