I know the tab formatting might be a little weird - bear with me, my friends - you'll like this chapter :)

Everyone was thrown back except for Thor and Bucky by the explosion. Jane clung to Thor with all her strength and he shielded her with his body. Steve flew back with his arms outstretched towards Bucky, but Bucky didn't see. He was too busy fighting with himself. Fight them - don't fight them - mission - friends…

Natasha recovered quickly and ran up behind Bucky with two Widow Bites and shocked him on either side of his neck. Bucky yelled and dropped like a rock, though getting a good smack at her before he did. She grimaced and crouched next to him, watching him carefully.
"What the hell did you do that for?" Steve shouted, crouching next to her. "He didn't know what he was doing!"

"Exactly," Natasha said evenly. "He'll wake up in a few and maybe he'll be free. Probably. Those things pack a good punch and he was already fighting it himself."

"I'm trusting you," Steve said, holding her gaze.

"You said you would," she said with a smirk. "I hope you do."

Steve dragged Bucky behind the remaining standing chair while Tony flew out of the tower in his suit, followed by Thor who entrusted Jane's protection to the rest of the Avengers. Bruce transformed into the Hulk and wasted no time in grabbing Clint, Natasha, and Fury and jumping off the building.

"Not even fighting?" Steve asked Sam with a lifted eyebrow.

"Guess he wants you guys to live or something," Sam smirked. "Smart guy. I'd like to not stay in an exploding building, I dunno about you."

"I really don't want to lose my shield again," Steve grumbled, "It took forever to find it last time."

"Sorry, Cap." Tony swooped over them and gathered up Steve and Bucky before grabbing Pepper as well. "God, you're heavy! Let's blow this popsicle stand!" He waited until Thor had his cargo before flying toward the hole in the wall. Before he could manage it, the assailants blasted at the same spot again, anticipating their only escape route, and blew them backwards again. Bucky and Steve came free from Tony's grasp and were buried under the collapsing top of the building. Tony swore loudly and flew out of the only exit after Thor as Pepper started screaming,

"You can't leave them! Tony Stark, you can't leave them behind! They're your friends!" She was crying and Tony forced himself to ignore it as he said tersely,

"I'm not leaving them. I'm getting you somewhere safe first. I'm coming back." He flew to ground level, blocks away from the attack on the tower. It took him all of five minutes to find somewhere far enough away that he thought she would be safe, but it was hard to land with the gathering crowd. After yelling and screaming for them to move, he set Pepper down as gently as he could manage before telling her,

"I'm coming back for you! Stay right here."

Tony pushed the Iron Man suit as fast as it could go, and no less than one block from the tower, he saw it collapse in on itself, having taken too much fire to hold on any longer. It was, as predicted, like watching the Twin Towers go down again, only this time he knew every single person in the building. Including Steve and Bucky.

Bucky's eyes opened marginally to see a spec of light five feet away from his face. Other than that, there was darkness. When he tried to move, he found pain - when he breathed, when he blinked, when he tried in any way to move his body. He was stuck fast in the rubble of Avengers tower. Tears rose to his eyes when he tried to move at least his metal arm and it pulled on the rest of his body and felt like it was going to rip off at the seams.

From what he could tell, it was evening. It had been hours since the attack. And no one found them. Suddenly, Bucky felt something contract on top of him and felt around with what little mobility his hand has and sensed someone else's hand there. Steve.

"Steve," he whispered, finding it painful to speak. He can feel dust lining his lungs and when he coughed. "Steve!" He could barely draw breath himself, and when he did, the rocks above him shifted ever so slightly to crush his ribcage even more. Steve's an asthmatic passed through his mind more than once until he remembered that Steve hadn't had an asthma attack for seventy years and most likely wouldn't have one ever again. He heard voices far away, and tried to make out what they were saying. He couldn't, but figured HYDRA wouldn't let them go so easily. Not that it was easy to be crushed under the weight of an entire building. Not the whole building, but enough that they would die if they stayed where they were for much longer.

Bucky pulled much harder on his left arm and bit his tongue to keep from crying out. He finally freed it, though not without significant pain along the seam, and started to plan their escape. He shook Steve's shouder lightly to try and wake him, but to no avail. We need a hospital…but how can we? He needs it…think, Bucky…think… He wrapped his metal arm protectively around Steve's chest and noticed Steve's breathing changed slightly. Injured ribs, probably. All the more reason to fix this as quickly as he could.

There's nothing else I can do. I'm going to have to fight our way out.

"We're here!" Bucky shouted, his voice still raspy. "Over here!" There were shouts, some relieved, some mutinous, as strangers started to dig them out. They tried to pull Bucky away from Steve, and he wrapped his now free legs around Steve's to make them inseparable while he waited for them to free him completely. The minute both he and Steve were free, he lashed out at the workers and took three of them down at once. He heaved Steve into a fireman's carry and kicked out at two more, presumably breaking their knees. He could feel his right arm hanging at an awkward angle, probably broken, dangling uselessly at his side.

I have to protect Steve…I have to protect Steve…

Bucky charged the last one blocking his escape route and started sprinting down the street and away from them. His legs and lungs protested with every step, as did his head, which is pounding mercilessly, making the world spin and threatening to make him black out from the pain. He heard gunshots behind him; it sounded like they were armed but woefully unprepared to actually use their weapons. HYDRA slipped up by using these buffoons, as usual. He just hoped they wouldn't hit Steve. He gritted his teeth and kept running, stumbling from Steve's weight, but with a single goal in mind. Saving Steve. He finally collapsed in an alley behind a dumpster, hiding both himself and Steve from view on the street. He didn't have the energy to run any further even if he wanted to. He estimated he put a mile of distance between himself and the fallen tower, and he hoped for tonight it will be enough.

It won't be…you have to keep going…

I can't. I can't do it. My arm is broken, my ribs are probably broken, and so are Steve's…

Steve's head leaned against Bucky's chest and Bucky kept his arm firmly wrapped around Steve's shoulders. He couldn't let himself sleep but so tired. He yawned and started pinching himself to stay awake. At one point in the night, a kid wandered down the alley, only to have Bucky sneer at him. The kid squeaked and ran away, not recognizing either of them.

The next day was gonna be rough if Steve didn't wake up. He was alive, but struggling. Bucky started to worry he'd punctured a lung, but Steve's breathing didn't falter, even if it did slow or wheeze on occasion. The next afternoon, Steve still hadn't woken up. Bucky decided it was about time he assessed the full extent of Steve's wounds, as he'd already identified his own (something he knew to do by practice now, and he's excellent at telling within a couple of minutes where and how badly any part of his body is hurt).

Steve was still wearing the light cotton blue shirt and khaki pants from the tower, both of which were torn and burned in various places. Heart pounding with fear of what he might find, he carefully removed Steve's shirt (very conscious of the fact that he doesn't know when they might get a change of clothing) and took a sharp intake of breath when he saw the damage.

Apparently shielding Steve's body was easier when his body completely covered Steve's because he was so small. Now, it looked like it didn't do anything to help. There are lacerations across Steve's chest, and bruises, both originating from rubble falling on top of them. Bucky may have broken Steve's fall, but he didn't protect him from anything falling on top of him. He found grazes from bullets in a couple of places - a piece out of his shoulder, another on his ankle. It could be worse. He could be dead – neck broken, spine twisted, impaled…you did what you could.

The bruises only appeared on his chest, so his ribs caught the brunt of the damage. He wasn't coughing up blood, so he safely assumed his lungs were intact (but for how much longer he didn't know – he must move him as little as possible). He felt the ribs as gently as he can manage and identifies two fractured ribs and two more bruised. Steve was going to have a hell of a time when he woke up. He also had some ugly scratches on his face and a bruised cheekbone. Bucky carefully replaced Steve's shirt and leaned back against the alley wall.

Bucky prayed that everyone else got away okay – he never got to see if they did. He only remembered darkness and didn't know when the assault started. All he remembered was the Winter Soldier, creeping back into his mind. He shoved it deeper still, into a part of his soul he hoped would never resurface again. He hated being controlled, especially when he'd broken free by himself before.

"Buck?" Steve gasped as he sat up quickly, panting hard like he'd been running. His blue eyes were bright and alert as he stared at the man sitting across from him in the dark alleyway, head down, eyes exhausted, and picking at the scabs on his arm. Steve immediately picked up on the awkward angle of Bucky's arm and asked, "Bucky, is your arm broken?" Bucky ignored him and avoided his gaze.

"What happened to everybody else?"

"…"

"How long has it been? Where even are we?" Bucky shrugged and started scratching at the scar on his shoulder attaching the skin to metal. Steve frowned at him and smacked Bucky's hand away from the seam.

"Stop touching it. You're going to hurt yourself." Bucky shrugged again and when Steve took another breath, he felt a sharp pain in his chest and he gasped, making it hurt more for an instant. Bucky finally snapped his gaze to Steve's, his eyes full of concern. Steve gingerly touched his chest where it hurt and flinched when he touched the sensitive bruised areas.

"Okay, well what happened to my ribs? The last thing I remember is you falling down again." Bucky snorted.

"Last thing I remember is someone hitting me in the back of the head. Two of your ribs are fractured and at least two are bruised. That's going to be a problem if we can't fix them soon." Steve gasped another breath, wincing in pain and trying his hardest not to.

"I've had worse," he smiled halfheartedly. Bucky's face fell and through a scowl he mumbled,

"Sorry."

"I don't blame you," Steve said, waving his hand vaguely, a rehearsed line. Bucky knew he was being sincere, but they've had the conversation so many times Steve didn't seem to even think about an answer anymore – he knew the right answer.

"So what did you do?" Steve asked again, insisting on an answer.

"I…ran. I just ran. We were trapped, I fought us out." Steve watched him for a minute before he looked down and away at the ground.

"Sorry I wasn't any help," Steve grumbled, running his pointer finger along the ground in the dust. Bucky gave him a sideways smile and reached his arm across the alleyway towards Steve, his hand outstretched. Steve let a small smile creep across his face as he leaned forward and took his hand. His ribs complained and Steve pulled away with a wince, holding his hand to his chest. He decided he would defy the pain and before Bucky could pull his hand away, he put his own hand back out quickly and took it, making his ribs complain even more, and it showed. Bucky pulled him gently over to his side of the alley and Steve held his breath until the pain subsided. Bucky waited patiently until Steve's body relaxed to say anything.

When Steve looked at him, Bucky saw exhaustion in his eyes. Exhaustion and affection, but mostly the former. Bucky put his arm around Steve's shoulders, trying to forget for a minute that Steve was in pain (as was their custom), and pulled him close.

"I am so sorry," Bucky said, his mouth against the top of Steve's head. "I am so, so sorry. Everything went to shit when I showed up on your doorstep." Steve laughed under him and pulled away to look at him.

"Not everything's about you, you idiot," he said. "The world went to shit before you showed up again."

Bucky smirked at him, but frowned when Steve grabbed his left hand before he could take it away. They both knew Bucky didn't like Steve touching it just because Bucky felt like it was a reminder of everything he'd done wrong and what someone had forced on to him that he violently did not want. This time, he didn't force Steve to let go, and took it as a defeat that Steve could grip it before Bucky could take it out of his reach. Although he should have realized that with Steve already leaning against the metal arm, that would have been hard.

Steve examined it, turning it over slowly in his hands and rubbing certain parts with his fingers, and then looking questioningly up at Bucky as if wondering if he could feel it. Bucky quirked an eyebrow at him and sighed, not responding. When Bucky wasn't looking, Steve quickly pecked the back of his metal hand. Bucky flushed with color and turned quickly to look at him.

"Could you feel that?" Steve asked, his face completely deadpan.

"I'd say," Bucky snorted, though he was still blushing. "Why'd you do that?"

"I dunno," Steve said, looking down at his own hands now. "Maybe because you needed someone to accept it instead of treating it like the elephant in the room."

"Are you calling me fat?" Bucky joked. Steve grinned.

"You said it, not me." Bucky whacked the back of Steve's head lightly, but it still spent Steve's field of vision spinning. He closed his eyes to steady himself and Bucky waited again, but he couldn't help but feel slightly guilty again for hurting him. Maybe he should be more careful with Steve.

"Do you think they're all okay?" he asked, when he finally recovered, staring up at the stars.

"Who, the Avengers?" Bucky said. He glanced at Steve curiously. "Yeah. Your friends are the most resourceful, hard-to-kill sons of bitches I ever met. They'll be fine."

"I hope so." Bucky didn't remember when they fell asleep, but eventually they did, leaning on each other as if afraid if they weren't touching the other would disappear.

Bucky woke up to the sound of Steve gasping and wheezing next to him.

"Bucky! Bucky, I can't breathe…" Bucky sat up quickly and moved in front of Steve, trying to remember what they did when this happened before, when Steve was smaller. When he was an asthmatic.

"Like what? Like an asthma attack or like you punctured a lung?" he asked urgently, trying to keep Steve focused on him. Steve shrugged, but could barely draw a breath and his lips were slowly turning purple. "Shit, Steve!" Bucky made him stand up and pulled his shirt off to look for any additional damage that would indicate a punctured lung. He felt all his fractured ribs quickly to see if they moved, and thankfully, they hadn't. Asthma attack it was. Bucky never thought he'd be so glad that Steve was having an asthma attack – it was easier to fix and less in need of real medical attention, at least for them.

"Steve, you're having an asthma attack, you'll be okay!" Steve gave him a look that said 'Really?'

"I thought…I couldn't…get those…anymore…" he gasped, and Bucky shushed him.

"Your healing is more focused on your other injuries instead of your breathing, so that's probably why. I'm guessing you could get drunk right now if you wanted to. That serum can't fix everything all at once," Bucky guessed. He wasn't sure, but that explanation made the most sense.

It was one of his more serious attacks, so Bucky grabbed his shoulders and sat him up straight against the wall and made Steve look at him. And suddenly, he remembered.

"Steve. Remember what we used to do? You remember, right? When we were kids – you have to breathe!" Steve gave him a look that made Bucky roll his eyes. "In on a count of four, out on a count of six. You're making yourself panic – stop panicking. I'm here, I've got you, okay? I'm not going anywhere." Steve nodded and closed his eyes in an attempt to concentrate. "Breathe in, two, three, four, and out, two, three, four, five, six. In, two, three, four, out, two, three, four, five, six." Bucky talked patiently with Steve and it took him a couple of tries before he got the rhythm right. His lips steadily went from purple back to a pale pink and then to a flushed red, encouraging Bucky to continue. While he talked him through it, Bucky pressed his thumbs against a point on Steve's inner shoulders, right above his armpits that was supposed to help him relax. Usually even with the breathing exercises and the pressure points, Bucky would still need some sort of medicine to get the attack all the way down, but when Steve started to breathe freely again, he thanked God – or Erskine – for the super soldier serum.

When his breathing was finally back to normal, Steve leaned forward until his head was against Bucky's chest, and Bucky noticed his whole body was shaking. He was terrified. Bucky slowly rubbed circles on Steve's back with one hand until Steve reached up and grabbed his arm, holding it tightly.

"Dammit," he cursed under his breath. "I can't believe I forgot how those felt."

"Well, good thing I didn't forget about how to fix you," Bucky said with a smirk. He held Steve close to him for another minute before pushing him up slowly.

"Come on, we need to move. I haven't eaten for three days and I'm starving."

"Where are we supposed to go?"

"Anywhere but here," Bucky said darkly. "We're still too close. We need food, disguises, clothes, and –NO!" Bucky swatted at the dart before it caught Steve in the back of the neck. It electrocuted his metal arm when it touched it, and he yelled and waited for his arm to reboot, the way it usually did. As he expected, it did, but slower than usual. Steve dove to the ground to avoid a second dart and Bucky grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and forced him to move forward towards their only exit. He pushed his way in front of Steve and held his metal arm in front of him to fend off any attacks.

"Wish I had that shield right now," Steve cursed while they ran out of the alleyway towards their attackers.

"Quit losing it then!" Bucky told him before swatting away another dart and wincing when the arm dropped again. Two HYDRA agents stood directly outside the alleyway, one of which Bucky tackled the minute he reached him. The other agent aimed square at Bucky's back and would have fired had it not been for a kick in the face from Steve. When he fell, Steve got on top of him and started pummeling him into the ground. Bucky had to pull Steve away from him to stop him from killing the HYDRA agent. Steve was hyper-alert at that point and had to force himself to focus on the task at hand, which was getting away, not getting revenge.

What they didn't see was the man across the street. A dart snagged Steve in the small of his back and he yelled for Bucky when he fell to the concrete and arched his back in pain. Bucky stopped and ducked to miss another dart and barely made it back to Steve when Steve pulled the dart out of his back and threw it on the ground. Bucky was going to ask and then decided to leave it for later.

And so they ran. They didn't stop until they found a street filled with people shopping in the middle of the day. Steve put a hand to Bucky's chest to signal to him to stop running and start walking, and Bucky frowned at him silently when Steve lowered himself slightly and started walking with his knees more bent than normal to make himself shorter. They fell in with the crowd when Bucky started copying him and soon they lost the yells of the HYDRA agents behind them.

Steve steered Bucky into a bar, which he figured would be one of the last places HYDRA would expect them to go. He kept his hand on Bucky's wrist as he led him through it, and Bucky followed him silently, trusting Steve to keep them safe. In the bar, there was a counter along the wall, along with pool tables on the other side of the room and a smooth wooden floor between the two sides that seemed to be a dance floor. It was the largest and most crowded portion of the room and the music blasting in the background encouraged the young people around to dance. Steve glanced back at Bucky to see his reaction, and grinned when he saw Bucky's eyes wide and his mouth slightly ajar in surprise and a bit of annoyance.

"Is this what people listen to these days?" Bucky yelled over the music. "This garbage?"

"Yep," Steve laughed. "This is it." Steve saw over Bucky's shoulder two men dressed in suits step into the bar, their hands by their thighs, most likely covering weapons.

"Bucky, dance floor, now," he said. He pulled Bucky onto the dance floor and pushed their way to the middle. Bucky made a face when he saw the couples dancing together in the middle.

"What are they doing?"

Steve lifted an eyebrow and settled on, "Dancing, I guess."

"That's one way of putting it," Bucky snorted. Steve looked over Bucky's shoulder again and watched the men push their way through the crowd, towards where the two are standing awkwardly in the middle of grinding couples. And then Steve remembered something.

"Bucky, don't ask questions, just follow my lead," Steve said, before pulling Bucky close to him and pressing their lips together.

Bucky let out a surprised gasp, his arms frozen by his side. Steve's hands were on his wrists, and once Bucky recovered, he rested his hands tentatively on Steve's hips. Vaguely Steve heard a derisive comment to the side of them, but he didn't care. Their jaws bumped together clumsily and Steve felt Bucky grin against his mouth. Bucky hooked his fingers into Steve's belt loops and pulled his hips closer, kissing him harder than Natasha or Peggy ever did. Steve released one of Bucky's wrists to move his hand to the back of Bucky's neck, keeping him as close as he could manage. They weren't really thinking about it anymore – HYDRA didn't exist, the Avengers didn't exist, their problems didn't exist – it was just Steve and Bucky, the way it had always been, and the way it should always be. It came naturally.

Steve brought his hands up to Bucky's face, slowly making circles with his thumbs along his jawline and ever so slightly tugging at his hair. The kiss was familiar and comforting despite the fact that it was raw and desperate – it filled up Steve's chest with a longing that demanded to be satisfied.

And then it ended. Steve kissed the corner of Bucky's mouth before Bucky stopped, pulling away quickly as though surprised. They were both panting slightly and Bucky grinned stupidly before asking,

"What was that for?"

Steve cleared his throat and effectively cleared his thoughts so that actual coherent sentences would come out of his mouth as he replied, "A cover. Uh, I think. Something Natasha did when we were, er, on the run from SHIELD." Bucky laughed.

"You kissed Natasha Romanoff? Jeezus, Steve…"

"Not on purpose," he said, but Bucky didn't seem to be paying attention. Bucky's grin faltered slightly when he said,

"So that was for the benefit of HYDRA?"

"No – public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable. It was to their disadvantage."

"And that was it?" Steve thought for a minute before deciding not to respond. He didn't trust his honest reply to that. Bucky huffed and said,

"Do you just want to stay here for now? They don't know we're in here, I guess, thanks to whatever we just did." Steve nodded eagerly and Bucky pushed him out of the crowd towards the counter. Steve sat down and Bucky plopped on the seat next to him.

"You know we can't get drunk, right?" Steve said in an undertone.

"We can if we're hurt like we are right now," Bucky grunted. "Probably. It's not a crime to try."

"Do you even have any cash on you?"

"Don't worry about it."

That evening, Steve and Bucky were moderately buzzed and full of food that Bucky convinced the owner to give them after pulling a chip out of his metal arm that plugged into the cash register and made it go berserk. Steve was sure that the effect of the chip was to say "Give this man what he wants or else". It wasn't right, but it was all they could work with right now. When he asked Bucky why he still had it and where he got it, Bucky shrugged noncommittally and mumbled something about Tony. So basically they had a free cash card. Not bad, but not something Steve openly embraced. Though, to Bucky's credit, he'd never used it to get out of paying before, at least not around Steve, and as far as Steve knew he didn't take advantage of it. He trusted Bucky not to take advantage of it.

Steve remembered from when they were younger that Bucky tended to be more emotional when drunk, and that hadn't really changed over the years. So when Bucky started apologizing again, for letting Steve down, for killing people, for almost killing Steve, Steve decided it was enough. Bucky feeling guilty for things that weren't his fault was infuriating, not because Bucky himself was infuriating, but because the people that made him a weapon in the first place were.

"Bucky," Steve said, slamming his hand against the counter top. "Shut. Up." Bucky stopped mid-sentence and held his mouth ajar for a second before closing it. His eyes were wide with an emotion Steve best identified as hurt.

"But –"

Steve, who was pretty drunk himself, put his hand over Bucky's mouth and said,

"Shut up. You're drunk and you're just talking to fill the space."

"But it hurts, Steve, it hurts right here." He pointed dumbly at his left breast to indicate his heart. Steve could feel himself getting choked up, as he was a rather emotional drunk too.

"It shouldn't hurt, Bucky. It wasn't your fault. None of it."

"But I-"

"No. You saved me so many times I've lost count – I'd probably be dead without you. When I finally got the chance to return the favor, I failed. You suffered by yourself in a horrible place for seventy years and you had no one looking out for you, no one even looking for you. I watched you fall off a mountain and letting that train carry me away from you is the worst decision I've ever made. And then you saved me again by jumping off a helicarrier. You've done so much for me and I haven't done anything to deserve it. So stop apologizing – I should be apologizing to you."

Bucky stared at him for another second before leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling. Then he seemed to come to a conclusion and said,

"You're worth it. You've always been worth it to me."

"Thanks, but I –"

"End of conversation," Bucky said, waving his hand. "You're right, or at least, you were right to tell me to stop talking." Steve felt a little drowsy and started to put his head into his arm on the counter, so he was surprised when he felt someone tug his other arm hard enough to pull him out of his seat and suddenly he was on his feet.

"Time to go," Bucky said, pulling him towards the door. Steve glanced around the room and didn't see any immediate threats.

"Why?"

"'Cos the booze is messing with my head and I need it to stop. Besides, there are girls on the other side of the counter staring over at us and I'm really not ready for that right now." He quirked an eyebrow at Steve and Steve rolled his eyes and smirked.

"We can talk about that later." He patted Bucky on the back when they walked out and struggled to hold him up before Bucky fell to all floors and threw up on the pavement.