Loki watched Bucky's actions with a calculating eye, his demeanor as calm and fluid as a cat now that he wasn't in the midst of waking up anymore. From what he gathered, the return to memories, the battle of what was true and what was not versus what was alright put the poor lamb's mind into a tizzy.
Perhaps a bit more, as he went from announcing his military title, to a more personal one, an apparent goodbye, and then a change of mind, the Demigod pursing his lips at the eerie behavior.
He waited until he was sure that Bucky was sure that he was going to sit and question a bit more before speaking or moving again, a coy smile pulling to his lips. "Because you were in the wrong hands." Letting his nimble fingers thread together on the counter, Loki weaved the lie he thought Clint would have liked him to tell. "Your previous situation--you weren't where you belonged. Sergeant, Agent, Bucky, we're fixing you now because we care to."
It was difficult to hide truth in a lie that he didn't want to tell. They wanted him to know, but they didn't want Bucky Boo's head to break. So conflicting, really. Loki would have to continue to test the waters.