Ivar doesn't startle as he once did when Bucky used to appear. Somehow over the year plus a few months they've known each other, he's gotten used to it. He's in his wheelchair today. Stark's leg braces are wonderful for getting around, but he had planned to be here a while, and the pain would have become too great if he was on his legs the entire time. He looks up at Bucky, and there's something sad in those ice-blue eyes, that even Ivar with all his anger and toughness can't hide.

He nods and does as he's told, bracing the gun on his palm. He's become a fairly decent shot with all the practicing he's done over the past months, becoming more accurate with his head shots, and with a more consistent pattern of overall shots. He gets off a few more shots before he looks back up at Bucky. "Did I ever tell you something you taught me saved my life went I went home?" He'd prefer to start off with that instead of talking how heartbroken he is right now.