The real problem was, Steve saw what he wanted to see. He heard what he wanted to hear. And right now, he wanted - needed - Bucky to be Bucky. He was having a hard time truly equating Bucky's face with any other personality, even though he knew better, and it was harder still when Bucky looked so much better - clean and healthy, and smiling at him.

It was stupid. But Steve was pretty damn stubborn. Even when it really, really wasn't good for him.

He glanced at Sam, who looked uneasy - but again, that was understandable. He nodded, stepping over to Bucky, holding the tray and the glass of milk now, smiling his most genuine, relieved smile. "Where do you want to eat?" There wasn't really a table, so it would be the floor or the bed.