A/N- Just the longest day ever of work/college. 15 mf hours, and I now have homework to do. Enjoy this, I'm hoping updates won't change but December is such a busy time for me right now I don't know how much time I'll have. 

-Third Person P.O.V-

*Location- Bucky's hideout*

Peter stumbled his way into the abandoned shop. He spotted some food and water sat in the corner, even though he was hungry and thirsty, he couldn't bare the thought of food with his stomach turning.

His Uncle was dead, and it was his fault.

His lungs burned as he moved, his movements sluggish and painfilled. Peters head spun and he couldn't help but hope that maybe this might kill him. That he'll finally be away from all the pain and be able to join his Uncle.

Peters eyes landed on the sofa, blankets and pillows were covering it and it looked welcoming compared to the cold floor he spent the night on. His mind was foggy with tiredness and hazed by the pain. He hardly thought of it as he moved towards it and collapsed on it, pulling his hood down and pulling the bundle of blankets over him.

His eyes fluttered shut, having not been able to keep them open anymore. He let the darkness pull him down, one thought swirling around his mind as he was pulled further and further down.

His Uncle was dead, and it was his fault, and everyone knew it.

-

Bucky walked along the deserted streets. It wasn't all surprising, it was 8AM, and most people would already be at work and school. He saw the odd car drive past, and someone running by, obviously running late for whatever it is they need to get to.

The same feeling as yesterday returned; this time worse. The feeling of dread building within him, telling him something was wrong. No matter where he looked though, he couldn't see anything that was wrong, and he knew everyone at the hideout was fine. So what was it that was causing this feeling.

Every step he took closer to his own hideout he felt the pit of dread grow bigger and bigger. He pushed it away, instead thinking about the kid he had saved, Peter.

Bucky really hoped he was okay, he could see something was wrong, he just couldn't place it. But he knew it was important.

He arrived at the hideout and could tell straight away someone had been here. The door, which was once closed was now ajar. Bucky could also hear the faint sound of another heart beat in there, although it sounded a little uneven and fast.

Silently, sticking to the shadows he moved into the building. Part of him mind was telling him it was Peter, while the other part of his mind was telling him it was someone else.

However, all those thoughts stopped when he made it inside and laid his eyes on who was there. Peter was laying on the sofa, blankets covering almost his whole body as he slept. At first glance you would think he was peacefully asleep and okay. But within seconds that reality was shattered and Bucky could feel his anger growing within him.

Peter looked like Hell to put it lightly. Bruises littered his face, a dark bruise was under his eye, his cheek bone held another dark bruise; his nose was crooked and it was obvious it had only stopped bleeding recently with the blood that had settled on his face. A cut sat on his lip and brow, there had obviously been a lot of blood from the fact that nearly his entire skin was covered in it.

Bucky bit his lip slightly, knowing his chest probably looked just as bad, if not worse then it had last time. Darkly, he wondered who had done this to him, he knew deep down, if he knew who it was he wouldn't hold back.

He could make out the tear tracks cutting through his face, in fact, even in his sleep, he looked upset. Bucky could feel the anger grow with every second that passed as he wondered who and why he looked like this.

Bucky crouched down in front of Peter to look a little closer as all the injuries on his face and felt his blood run cold. Not only did he hoodie have blood on it, but he could also make out a faded bruise around his neck. If it weren't for his super senses he wouldn't have really been able to see it, but he did and he knew exactly what it was within seconds of laying his yes on it.

Someone had tried to strangle him.

His hands clenched into fists and he had to look away from Peter in order to stop himself from growing even angrier. How could someone do this to a kid, no way would this have been a bully, even though yesterday was Tuesday, so Peter probably would've been at school; but this was too fresh.

Like hours old fresh.

Deciding to leave Peter to sleep he moves away silently, going over to where his medical supplies and getting out everything he knows he'll need. He had made sure to re-stock it in case Peter would need any more help.

Part of him wondered just why he was doing this; he knew why, but it didn't make much sense to him. He knew it was because Peter had needed help, and because he reminded him so much of Steve. And yet, even after he had helped him, he couldn't help but think that he needs more help. Bucky wasn't someone who liked being around people, there was only a few, in fact, one person he could stand being around and that was Steve.

But now, well now he doesn't mind being around Peter. In fact, most the time he wished Peter was there. It felt as though a protective streak had grown within him when he looked at Peter.

Bucky didn't want to admit it, he didn't want to think about what could happen if he thinks like this and something goes wrong. But, when he looks over at the sleeping, bloodied teen, he can't help but care even more.

Anger simmers within him as he looks at the teen a little longer, wondering who would ever do that to him. He keeps his distance as he grabs everything and settles into a chair a little aways, somehow he knows if he scares Peter it might make it all worse, and if Peter sees him there suddenly it very well might do that.

He stays completely silent, wanting to allow Peter to sleep for as long as he needs before Bucky does anything to help him.

Bucky knows it's a big gamble, he knows that this could end terribly for the two of them; but looking at the teen who is covered in cuts, bruises and blood, Bucky can't help but think it'll be better to be there and protect him than know he could have helped.

With that thought solidified in his mind he settles more into the chair, content to sit there and wait for the teen to wake on his own.

-

The first thing Peter can really work out is the pain. His body throbs in time with his heart beat, every beat and thud sends a wave of pain through him. He can't help but scrunch up his face in pain, holding back a whimper as he does so.

What the Hell happened.

Peter can faintly hear the echo of a gun shot ring through his mind and his heart stops; his mind swirling with pain.

His Uncle was dead.

He doesn't even notice as a tear falls from his eyes.

Peters next thought is where is he? He remembers clearly now his Uncle and May arguing, then he ran and Ben had followed. He had been shot and when Peter was home, May had lost it. Then he ran to-

"Peter, are you awake?" A quiet voice asks, startling Peter and making him flinch back.

Pain rushes him and he grits his teeth in order to stop the whimper of pain that was threatening to escape his lips. He opens his eyes, thankful for the dim light of the abandoned shop, his left eye throbbed with pain and he knew it was the one with the bruise under it.

His gaze settled on Bucky, who was sat a little away from him, a worried look in his eyes as his eyes scanned over Peter. Part of Peter was grateful he was here, he knew if he was alone it probably wouldn't end well; but another, small part of him wished Bucky wasn't here, because he didn't feel as though he deserved to have him here, to have him help him. He doesn't- he doesn't deserve it.

"You okay kid?" Bucky asks quietly, seeing the tears falling down his face and the broken look in his eyes.

Peter stays silent for a moment, thinking over the question. Was he okay? He really didn't feel like it, in fact, he felt so far from okay at that very moment. His head spun with dizziness and he shut his eyes for a moment, opting to stay silent for a moment to collect his thoughts.

Bucky knew it was a bit of a stupid question to ask, but he felt like it was better to at least ask him and check just exactly what hurts. He waited with baited breath as Peter shut his eyes once more, he could see the turmoil and pain in his eyes and knew something bad must have happened for the teen to react like this.

Peter opens his eyes again, keeping his gaze down, "no," he whispers, the word near silent and somehow echoing around the shop.

Bucky can't help but slightly flinch at the tone of voice, he never thought he would hear it on someone so young. And yet, he could never mistake it for something else, after all, it was now a common tone for Bucky.

The tone was broken, solemn and tired; revealing something that obviously hurt more than anything.

"Can I come closer to you Pete?" Bucky asks carefully, making sure his actions are all pronounced as he moves slightly.

Peter looks at him with cautiousness, he has to keep reminding himself that not everyone is May. And as he looks into Buckys eyes, he's thankful to only see care and worry shining in his eyes. Normally, when he looks deep enough into May's eyes, under all the fake love and care is malice and hate.

A small part of his brain whispers to him, telling him that he shouldn't let Bucky close, that he doesn't deserve any form of care because- because his Uncle. Oh God his uncle was dead and it was- it was hit fault.

It was his fault.

Peter pushes it all away and focus back on the present, Bucky is still sat there, waiting for Peter to reply.

"Y-yeah," Peter stutters, his voice small, but Bucky hears it easily, nonetheless.

Bucky sends him a small, real smile, to show his gratitude and slowly moves towards Peter, medical bag in hand and movements more pronounced than normal. He settles in front of Peter, one leg on the floor while the other holds his body up.

"You don't have to tell me what happened if you don't want to tell me, if you do I'll listen. But can you tell me where you're hurt," Bucky speaks, his voice soft and reassuring, something no one would picture coming from The Winter Soldier.

After a moments of hesitation Peter nodded, he didn't plan on telling Bucky how it had happened. But he did want help, at least, with the injuries, sure, his mind was screaming at him that he doesn't deserve it; but seeing Bucky seemed so concerned broke through him.

"My- my head, chest and- and face," Peter whispers, his eyes falling downcast for a moment, his mind replaying all the hateful words shouted at him by May and the echo of the gun shot ringing in his ears.

Bucky allows a small frown to slip onto his face, seeming to notice the distant look in his eyes; knowing he isn't fully in the room. He can tell something bad must have happened for him to be in this state, and Bucky silently hopes that he'll be able to help, or at least make it a little better.

"Can I see the back of your head?" Bucky questioned, wanting to be able to see the back of his head but not wanting to force him to do something he didn't want to do.

Peter mumbles a small yes as he pulls himself into a sitting position, wincing at the pain that floods his system and threatens to pull him back down into unconsciousness. Darkness crowded the edges of his vision as he steadied himself; Buckys hands were lightly ghosting his shoulders, making sure to catch him if he were to fall.

Once Bucky knew Peter was alright, he slowly stood, making sure Peter could still see all of his movement, Peter moved his body slightly so Bucky could see the back of his head better. Once Bucky could see his head he had to hold back a curse at the sight.

A bad cut, still sluggishly bleeding sat on the back of his head, Bucky knew straight away it would be badly bruised and the chances of a concussion were high. "This might hurt a bit, but I need to stop the bleeding," Bucky spoke softly, moving back to grab some gauze.

"It's okay," Peter whispers gratefully, he knows it won't hurt as much as it had getting it. And there was no way it would hurt as much as he was mentally right now.

Bucky nods wordlessly and places the gauze down over the cut, trying to be as gentle as possible but knowing if he really wants to stop the bleeding, he'll have to push it down. Peter flinches a little when Bucky puts more pressure on the wound, but he doesn't push him away and instead looks into the distance, his eyes unfocused and mind distant.

Bucky continues to keep pressure on it and after a few minutes he takes it away, happy to see it's practically stopped. Carefully, he places a bandage over it and makes sure it won't come away as soon as he pulls his hand away.

"Can I check for a concussion," Bucky asks, moving away a little to look more at Peter.

Peter barley manages a nod, lifting his gaze up, knowing Bucky will have to look into his eyes. Bucky, in turn, pulls out his phone and turns on the light, ignoring all the texts from Steve asking where he is and if he's okay.

He moves the light to Peters eyes and watches as the pupil contracts slightly, and when he pulls it away it takes a little longer than normal for it to expand again. Frowning deeply, he does the same to the other eye and double checks them both.

"I think you have a mild concussion, do you remember everything, any dizziness or nausea?" Bucky asks, putting his phone away again.

Peter thinks for a moment, taking note of the slight thrum of pain that travels through his skull. He knows, sadly that he remembers everything and wishes he was able to forget about it. And sure, earlier he was a little dizzy and felt sick, but he doesn't think it's because of the head injury.

He's dead.

His Uncle Ben is dead and it's his fault.

"Just hurts a little," Peter mumbles, pulling his gaze away from the worried eyes of Bucky. He doesn't deserve his worry or concern.

Bucky nods wordlessly, seeing the distant, sad look in Peters eyes and knowing he probably won't want to talk much. He helps Peter take his shirt off, and can't help but wince in sympathy at the dark bruises scattered over his chest and back.

As careful as he can he begins to feel around Peters ribs, seeing if they're broken or not. He can feel a few of them are broken, but most seem to be badly bruised.

"I know this might hurt but I need to wrap your ribs because you've broken some," Bucky speaks softly, moving back and picking up a roll of bandage that could keep them in place.

"Okay," Peter whispers, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall. It wasn't even from the pain all throughout his body, but instead the pain in his mind and heart knowing he lost the last family member that he ever thought would care about him; and it was his fault, he could have stopped it, he could have not ran. Then his Uncle would still be here, but he wasn't.

Bucky had gone on to wrap his ribs and clean up all the cuts on his face and couldn't help but frown deeply at how little he reacted to what he was doing. He was staring off into the distance, looking close to tears, but Bucky could tell it wasn't from the pain he was in, he could see the despair and sadness in his eyes and wondered what it was that could cause him so much grief.

"Peter, are you okay?" Bucky asks lightly, putting away all the med kit to the side.

Peter swallows, trying to keep the tears at bay but it's no use as a single tear falls down his face, quickly followed by a stream of them. "No, he's- he's gone," Peter cried, barley registering his movements as he rushed forward, ignoring the tug of pain from his ribs as he fell into Bucky.

Bucky can't help but freeze at the contact, but after a moments hesitation he wraps his arms around Peter, making sure to be careful with his hold as to not hurt his ribs or any other injury he had got. His mind was whirling with thoughts as he took in what the kid had said.

Someone was gone, and from the sounds of it, it wasn't moving away but instead someone had died. And from how distraught Peter is, Bucky guesses it must have been someone very important to him.

"What happened Pete," Bucky asks, keeping his arms around the teen as he continues to cry into his chest.

Peter knows he should have thought more about what he was doing before he had done it. But it didn't really register in his mind, all he knew was that Bucky was there, and his Uncle wasn't. Part of his mind that wasn't shrouded in sadness and grief was shocked that Bucky had actually hugged him back and seemed to care.

"He's gone Bucky, he- he's gone and it's- it's my fault," Peter sobbed out, heaving in breaths as he shakes in Buckys arms, the sound of a gunshot ringing through his mind; the look in his Uncles eyes as he died, and the last words uttered to him before he had taken his last breath.

Bucky held Peter a little closer and tighter, still making sure to be careful of all his injuries. He was trying to work out what Peter had meant by that, it was obvious he had lost someone, but how in the world could it be Peter's fault.

"I'm sure it wasn't your fault Pete," Bucky spoke, making sure his voice held no hesitation and his voice was firm.

Peter shook his head quickly, gripping Bucky tighter as he did so. "No, it was- it was my fault. My- my Uncle, he- he followed me and- and got- got shot. I shouldn't have- I shouldn't have left Bucky. Now he's- he's dead and it's- it's because of me," Peter cried, stumbling and stuttering over his words.

Bucky could feel his heart break in his chest, it was obvious he and his Uncle were close, and from what he had just said, Peter could easily blame himself for this. But Bucky knows it couldn't have been Peter's fault, not really. He knew in this state Peter wouldn't really listen to him, but he desperately wanted to calm to kid down, God knew the pain he must be in with how he was currently sitting.

"Pete, I'm so sorry. But you need to understand, it's not your fault at all. You need to calm down now though because you're hurt and I don't want you to get more hurt," Bucky explained lightly, still holding Peter tightly to his chest.

Peter takes a shuddering breath in, trying desperately to ignore the flare of pain that shoots through his ribs and cuts through his entire body. No matter what Bucky says he'll keep blaming himself, but he knows Bucky wants him to calm down, and for the moment, he lets himself believe that maybe it wasn't his fault.

He nods a little, his sobs dying down to light cries as he continues to hug Bucky, his face buried in his chest trying in vain to block out all the thoughts.

"My- my Uncle, he was- he was all I really had," Peter muttered, his mind flashing to Mays angry face as she spewed insults at him and hit him over and over again. He knew he still had May, and many, if not all people would say he still had his 'Aunt.' But Peter knew she wasn't his family any more, she hasn't been for a long time.

Bucky frowned deeply, wondering if Peter meant he didn't have anyone else anymore. "What about your parents?" He asks tentatively, not wanting to push the kid to talk about something he didn't want to talk about.

"They- they died when I was little. I went to live with my aunt and uncle," Peter explains lightly, his tears finally coming to an end. He pulls himself away from Bucky, who allowed him to move back, Peter sent him a sheepish look as he blushed slightly in embarrassment, "sorry," he whispered, now coming to realise he was just hugging Bucky without even asking.

Bucky shakes his head lightly, settling into the cushions behind him with Peter doing the same beside him. "Don't apologise, it's human nature to want comfort and I didn't mind. If you don't mind me asking, what about your aunt then?"

Peter couldn't help but freeze for a moment, because God how was he meant to go back home to- to that. There would be no safety when his Uncle wasn't there, it would be a free for all for May and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Bucky could feel Peter freeze beside him and he couldn't help but frown, wondering what it is that was the matter. He was about to ask what it was when he could hear Peters shaky voice speak up.

"I don't- she's not the- the best. I just-" Peter cut himself off, afraid that if he spoke more he would tell him what happened, and he couldn't, he couldn't tell him because if he did, then maybe Bucky might get shot and die as well, and Peter can't- he can't have that.

Bucky looked at Peter, scanning his bruised face for any signs of him not telling the truth, he caught his eyes and could see the sorrow and fear in his eyes and knew Peter wasn't telling the whole truth. Bucky partly wanted to ask him more and see what really the matter was but he could tell Peter didn't want to talk and he didn't want to push him to speak if he didn't want to.

Peter kept his eyes downcast, his hands wrapped tightly around the blanket that still lay sprawled across his lap. He pulled the sleeves of his hoodie down over his hand before pulling at the blanket once more, trying desperately to distract himself from the onslaught of thoughts that were threatening to over run him.

"Pete, do you want to stay here for the rest of the day. I really don't want you leaving when you're still hurt and I don't want you to be alone right now," Bucky spoke, making sure to catch Peters eyes and make sure he sees how serious he is.

Peter faltered for a moment, unsure of what to do. He knew he wasn't going to go to school, he could barley find it in himself to move let alone get to school and pretend he was okay. Every small bang, or loud noise he heard would send his mind reeling back to the sound of a gunshot and his Uncles dying words. If he were to leave he also knew he wouldn't go back home, he didn't want to be there, surrounded by the reminders that his Uncle was dead and he was now alone with his aunt, and at the thought of seeing his aunt it made him shiver in fear and pain ebb it's way through his body.

But here, with Bucky, he at least felt safe. Even though he hardly knew the man, he felt as though he was the safest person in his life right now and he could see the worry in his eyes as he looked at him.

"Are you- are you sure?" Peter asked carefully, not wanting to intrude and cause any more issues.

Bucky nodded, sending him a small, reassuring smile. "Of course I am, I really don't think it's a good idea to be on your own and I'll happily spend time here with you," Bucky replied without the slightest bit of hesitation in his voice.

Peter remained silent for a moment, thinking over his options before nodding slightly, sending Bucky a small smile. "Okay, thank- thank you," Peter replied softly.

Bucky nodded a little and smiled softly at him, glad he was able to persuade him to stay for the day. He knew something else was the matter, but he also knew that there was no way he would be able to force it out of him, so keeping him here for the day would be for the best. The worry and wonder about just how he got the cuts and bruises still worked it's way through his brain and he couldn't help but fear for the kid in front of him, there was something Peter was unwilling to tell Bucky and he somehow knew it wasn't good. But if the kid didn't tell him anything, then there was no way he would be able to help; or at least, knowingly help. 

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A/N- What do you guys think of it so far? Also thanks for 1k reads and 100 votes :D it means a lot

4.4k words

- (A very tired) Bear xx