Steve is too tired to train. Crazy as it sounds, his sickness is eating away at his strength. He just needs to catch his breath so he doesn't pass out on the floor. Again. Right now he's in the kitchen nursing some coffee and soup. It tastes weird together, but the warmth is doing him some good. He sees Bucky out of the corner of his eye, but pays it no mind. He's sick. To be fair, he sees things even when he isn't sick. The past is less a memory than a living thing that keeps creeping up on him.

Being sick inevitably makes him think of Bucky. What disturbs Steve is when he looks up again and the man is still there. He isn't the Bucky of the 40s even if he has both arms. The hair is too long. No, he's getting confused. He makes an effort to hold his coffee steady and not drop it to check his head. He is sporting a slight fever, but Steve didn't think it was this bad. He never was the best judge though as Bucky may or may not remember.

"Wake up, Rogers." He says to himself. Steve can't tear his eyes away even if this can't be healthy to stare at what you think is your hallucinated bff who tried to kill you recently.