Bucky shivers a little as fingers trail across his skin and tries to will the back of his neck not to heat; Tony will probably see it pretty clearly. Nobody's really seen him outside the medical staff and their touches are cold, clinical, and with little care to whether or not it hurts. By contrast Tony's hands are warm but even more than that he's careful; his displeasure seems contained to his expression, rather than expressed through his hands. What a novel concept, that.

"I don't— I don't know if I' allowed to not keep it," he admits quietly. "I know I agreed to stuff, signed my name on a lot of things. I'm not... sure what all of it was." Consent forms, he knows have to be a part of the collection of paperwork. But he really can't remember most of it, lost in a haze of pain and drugs and so many procedures. All he knows is that he has to keep to his regular checkup schedule and has to do everything Dr. Zola says, or he forfeits even more money. Bucky's already drowning in debt for his medical care; he doesn't want to think about adding more expenses on top of it.

"I mean I'm not saying no or anything." He reaches for the ice pack with his right hand, just to have something to fiddle out his nervous energy. "I just. I don't know what I'm saying, I guess."