It all sounded pretty good. The getting accepted, finally, to do his part, the fighting alongside Bucky, and he had to admit that it was nice not to feel the strain in his chest that was his heart or lungs struggling to keep up with what he needed, and it was nice to feel strong, with an energy he couldn't remember having. But he had no idea how he'd gotten to any of that.
And it felt wrong.
Steve shook his head. "I don't remember any of that, Buck." He didn't question its truth, of course it was; Bucky would never lie to him. Not about that kind of thing anyway. "I don't remember any of this."
Said with a glance around the kitchen, taking it all in the way he'd done photographs on the walls as he'd made his way downstairs.