A more cynical part of him, jaded by the sheer lack of empathy and assistance he's received for his blindness, wonders why he bothers. Wonders if there's even a point to the efforts when it feels like Bucky consistently fails to hear what he's trying to say no matter how he rephrases it. It's... in a word, exhausting.
But he also knows, objectively, that it's only through other people, when (if) they do, giving him the same grace that he can function at all. And, more subjectively, he doesn't want to be the kind of person that gives up on trying to empathise and help other people.
So he just sighs, heavy and tired, and finds a seat to rest in at the kitchen table.
"Bucky, John Doe," he echoes. "He's from my world. Suffice it to say that whatever John was isn't entirely relevant when he's stuck in a human body now. He chose that name, for the record," he adds dryly, "and while I'll admit it's obvious he's not had much experience with humanity before he met me, I've been working with him as my eyes for long enough that I trust him explicitly. Anything you have to say to me, you can say to him as well."
no subject
But he also knows, objectively, that it's only through other people, when (if) they do, giving him the same grace that he can function at all. And, more subjectively, he doesn't want to be the kind of person that gives up on trying to empathise and help other people.
So he just sighs, heavy and tired, and finds a seat to rest in at the kitchen table.
"Bucky, John Doe," he echoes. "He's from my world. Suffice it to say that whatever John was isn't entirely relevant when he's stuck in a human body now. He chose that name, for the record," he adds dryly, "and while I'll admit it's obvious he's not had much experience with humanity before he met me, I've been working with him as my eyes for long enough that I trust him explicitly. Anything you have to say to me, you can say to him as well."