"I can't do it." he says after a few moments of frustrated wrangling with his own head and mouth. "There's not enough information, there's too many variables." Bucky holds his hands out in front of him like he can physically get his point across before before balling them into fists and drawing them back in against his sides.

There'd always been information readied for him. Fat folders of it put into the Soldier's hand with a time frame to work within. Equipment too, he needs equipment to pull a mission off and he has nothing.

"I mean... I'm not going to do it. You're right, it wouldn't work." Bucky shakes his head. Sam's still holding onto him, he realises, a steady grounding hold. "We'll have to work with them."

At least at first. Bucky doesn't want to stay beholden to anyone but his friends, the few people who've earned his loyalty. He knew he'd follow Steve to the ends of the Earth, maybe some of the others too. He's just... tired. Very tired. Without the ice and the wipes to take the concept of time away from him he's realising how very long his life has been stuck in unwanted servitude to others.