"Hey!" The scuffling in the alley had been the first sign that something was wrong, but when Steve turned the corner and saw the source of the sound, he knew a fight was inescapable. A young woman, no older than 18, was cornered by two burly looking men. The woman was clutching her purse, but one of the men had a strap in hand.
The two men and the girl looked at Steve, like deer caught in headlights. The man not vying for the purse turned to face Steve, obviously preparing for a fight. The woman shifted her weight, eyes darting around to look for an escape route.
"Are these two men bothering you?" Steve asked calmly. The girl nodded quickly, eyeing both her assailants. Steve stepped forward into the alley, blocking the exit as best he could with his tiny frame. "You heard her. Let her go, guys. We can talk this out."
The man clutching the purse strap did let go, but he did so to face Steve and glared threateningly at him. Steve gulped but tried his best to remain calm and unafraid in front of two very strong-looking men.
"Do you have a problem kid?" The man who was gripping the purse grumbled. His thick eyebrows were furrowed and he cracked a few of his knuckles for good measure. That wasn't going to stop Steve.
"With thievery? Yes. Just let this nice woman go and we can be on our separate ways." Steve gestured to the girl, who looked ready to bolt. "We don't need to get the law involved, do we?" This was the last nail in the coffin. The purse guy took a heavy step towards Steve, his face becoming redder and angrier when Steve mentioned 'the law.'
"Listen, kid, did your 'ma ever teach you to mind your own damn business? Get lost, before I lose my patience." The purse guy had walked up to Steve, towering over him as he talked. Steve stood tall, not letting himself take any guff from this stranger.
The burglar paused, preparing to say something else, and Steve took his chance. He gestured for the girl to run, and she did, sprinting out of the alley hurriedly. Steve had enough mind to dodge the first punch, which came instantly. Spinning around, Steve kicked hard at the burglar's backside, sending him stumbling forward.
The next punch came too fast for Steve to dodge, and a hard blow to his side from the other man threw him against the alley wall. Spots swam in his vision as his head contacted the hard brick, and he gasped for breath. The man who punched him rushed forward to grab his arms, but Steve swung his elbows up, getting his assailant in the jaw.
The short burst of pride that Steve felt for landing a solid hit was quickly ended when the sole of a boot connected with his knees. He fell forward, hands contacting with the grimy ground and scrambling for purchase as his body screamed at him to get up. Steve had made it to his knees when another kick to his back forced him back onto his stomach. His asthma was acting up, and every breath felt like a struggle as he coughed and sputtered.
"Just quit while you're behind, why dont'cha?" The purse guy spat as he used his foot to turn Steve over. He was looking up at the sky, which was very clear today, but the ugly faces of the two burglars that loomed over him were more important to him than the weather at the moment.
"Are you kidding? I could do this all day." Steve quipped. He would rather die than give up fighting for what he thought was right, even if it meant fighting battles he couldn't win. His response was obviously not the right one, because it earned him a solid punch in the cheek. Through the tears in his eyes, he could see the purse guy reach into his pocket and pull out a small knife. Shit.
"This is what you get for messing around where you shouldn't." Before the knife could even be raised, a commanding voice from the entrance to the alley put a halt to their fight. Steve turned his throbbing head and saw an all-too-familiar figure silhouetted against the mouth of the alley.
"Are you alright, Steve?" Bucky's voice was tinged with worry, but he still exuded confidence and command of attention that Steve had always lacked. He was too out of breath to say anything, so he just raised his hand in a 'thumbs-up' motion to signal to Bucky that he was still semi-conscious. Bucky walked into the alley and right up to Steve's assailants, who hadn't moved or spoken since he had shown up.
"Is he with you?" The man without the knife gestured to Steve, whose chest was still heaving as he tried to catch his breath.
"Look, whatever he said, I'm sure he didn't mean it. If you let him go, we can just leave and pretend this never happened. Deal?" Bucky's eyes flicked down, just for a moment, to look at Steve. The man with the knife must have seen it because he brought his foot down on Steve's chest and shook his head.
"I don't know who your friend thinks he is, but he's been meddling where he shouldn't, and that doesn't come without consequences. Now get out of here if you don't want to join his faggoty ass."
This set Bucky off. He lunged forward, grabbing the hand of the man with the knife, and kicked him in the stomach. He let out a wheeze and dropped the knife, but Bucky didn't stop there. He kicked the man again, in the face, for good measure.
The other burglar grabbed Bucky and pinned his arms behind him, but Bucky threw his head back, and the man let go to clutch at his nose. Bucky turned and punched him in the shoulder, causing him to back up to the alley wall. Bucky winded up to punch him again, but the man got the idea and fled the alley.
"Buck, look out!" He turned around just in time to see the man with the knife had gotten up and was lunging at him. He stepped out of the way, but the knife grazed Bucky's left arm, tearing the fabric of his shirt. Bucky barely seemed to notice the cut and kicked the man in the back, causing him to drop the knife again. Bucky shoved him towards the alley exit, and he ran the same way his buddy did, not bothering to grab the knife he dropped.
Bucky watched him run, his shoulders heaving slightly from exertion. The moment the man was out of sight, he turned and rushed to Steve, who was still laying on the ground.
"Jesus, Steve, are you ok?" Bucky's eyes darted up and down Steve's body, taking in the injuries he had sustained. He was grasping Steve's hand tightly, looking expectantly at him for an answer. Steve had never seen him look so worried, and he had been in this situation more times than he could count.
“I’m fine, Buck. A little scratched up, but I’m fine.” Steve tried to sit up, but the moment he leaned forward his head swam with dizziness and waves of pain. He laid back down with a sigh.
“Here. I got you.” Bucky put a hand behind his back, pushing him up into a sitting position. Steve swayed precariously, threatening to slump backward, but Bucky’s firm hand helped him stay upright. After a pause, he got to his feet, Bucky supporting him the whole way.
Steve stood on his shaking legs, one arm over Bucky’s shoulders. He tried to take a step forward, out of the alley, but shooting pains raced up his leg. He winced; Steve hated being so weak and easily hurt.
“I think I can walk. I just might need some help.” Bucky nodded, looking at him with the utmost concern. They slowly shambled out of the alley, one slow step at a time.
Every wince or grunt from Steve caused Bucky to stop, pausing to ask him if he was ok with a concerned glance. Steve always nodded, waving him off so he wouldn’t seem like a total deadweight that Bucky had to hall around and stop for at the tiniest issue. It pained him to be so weak.
After what seemed like an eternity of shuffling, they made it to their apartment building. The issue was the stairs. Steve chuckled nervously- he could see the door to their second-floor apartment, but getting up there seemed like an impossible feat in this condition.
“Ok. We can do this.” Bucky smiled thinly. “One step at a time.” They approached the landing, Bucky stepping onto the first step, and Steve attempting to follow. He was able to get one foot onto the step, but when he put his whole weight onto it, his knee buckled. Steve careened forward and slammed his other knee into the metal step with a bang.
“Shit!” He screamed, gritting his teeth in pain as a fiery ache engulfed his leg. Bucky immediately dropped to his side, hands hovering over him in case he slipped down the stairs. Steve groaned, hands clenching into fists as he tried to endure the throbbing pain in his already hurting knee.
“Are you ok, Stevie?” Steve could only nod, pressing his lips together. Getting back into their apartment was a top priority right now because Bucky could actually help Steve there. “Ok, Steve. You’re not going to like this, but I’m going to lift you so we can get up the stairs.”
Like he was made of glass, Bucky carefully slid his arms under Steve’s thin frame and lifted him. It almost seemed to take no effort from him, but Bucky had a solid, strong grip, and Steve somehow knew that he was going to make it up the stairs.
As Bucky trudged up, Steve couldn’t help but feel good in Bucky’s arms. Even though he had seen Bucky lift some very heavy things before, he carried Steve with a grace and gentleness, like he was a baby. As they made it to the top landing, Steve couldn’t help but think, inappropriately, that Bucky might have to carry him bridal style over the threshold of their apartment.
Unfortunately, Bucky gently let Steve down so he could unlock the door. He helped Steve get the rest of the way in, guiding him to a chair. Working with keen efficiency, Bucky gathered a small first-aid kit and a wet rag and began to tend to Steve's wounds. It was like he had done it a million times before because he probably had.
Bucky was quiet as he worked, gently picking the dirt from the scrapes in Steve's hands and wrapping them up in white gauze. Steve watched, perplexed by the care and effort his friend went through every time he was injured, and Bucky's eyelashes are very long. He finished with the hands and turned his attention to Steve's face, which sported a nasty purple bruise on his jaw.
Bucky reached up and tilted Steve's face to the side so he could assess the damage better. Steve winced, groaning as his head throbbed from the movement. Bucky practically yanked his hands back, startled by the groan, and scared by the possibility that he had further hurt his best friend.
"You don't have to do this, you know." Steve said as soon as his head stopped pounding. Bucky, who was wringing out the wet rag, stopped to look up with eyes so full of worry and something else that Steve immediately closed his mouth. He got up and sat in the chair opposite Steve.
"Steve, as much as I appreciate your go-getter attitude and your astute moral compass, sometimes you just have to stop. I'm never not being to be here to patch you up or get you out of a bind, but I can't keep going on worrying if I am going to find you dead in some alley one day, Steve." Suddenly, Bucky looked incredibly tired- the slope of his shoulders becoming more pronounced as he talked.
"I can handle myself, Buck. You shouldn't have to worry about me." Steve nudged him with one foot.
"That's the problem, Steve. You're my friend. I can't bear thinking about what I would do if you got hurt." Bucky looked down at his knees, his voice small. "I cant not worry about you, sometimes."
"Hey." Steve whispered comfortingly. Bucky looked up slowly. "I'm not going anywhere. I've been reckless, I'll admit, and I'm sorry I make you worry so much. But..." He reached out and put one bandaged hand on Bucky's knee, causing Bucky's eyes to widen. "If I have to keep getting patched up for being a reckless punk, I'm glad that it's you."
Bucky got soft around the eyes, a thin, bashful smile spreading across his face. He patted Steve's hand, and that's when he saw it. Bucky's left forearm was wet with a dark liquid. Blood.
"You're bleeding." Steve pointed out, grabbing his wrist so he could assess the severity of the cut.
"Oh." Bucky seemed surprised. "I hadn't noticed. It's probably nothing." He tried to pull his arm away, but Steve had his wrist in as tight a grip as he could manage.
"Hey. You get to fix me up." Steve shot a glare at Bucky, which would have almost been threatening if he knew that he wasn't being threatened by medical care. "Let me do the same for you." Bucky nodded and let him continue, leaning back to watch Steve work.
It was Bucky's turn to be amazed. Steve took the wet rag and cleaned the area around the cut, a look on his eyes similar to the one he got when he was drawing. He wrapped the area in gauze and gave Bucky's wrist a light squeeze when he was done. Something about the way Steve had fixed him up, even though it was as simple as dressing a wound, made Bucky's heart swell.
"What did I do to deserve you, Stevie." Steve blushed lightly, turning his head away to hide the smile that was creeping across his lips. "Come here."
Bucky gestured Steve forward, and he wrapped his arms around his thin frame. Bucky sighed into him, letting the tension and pent up adrenaline that was in his system fade away. Steve rubbed little circles into his friend's back, burying his face into his neck. It didn't matter that his whole body hurt, or that his head was throbbing.
He was with Bucky, and Bucky was with him. That was all that mattered. They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other's arms. Together. Safe. Home.