One week later

Steve's POV

t/w: some homophobic slurs and a panic attack

The words, "Good morning honey. Ready for school?" woke me up that morning.

"BUCKY!!" I pulled my sheets over my chest, as if I weren't wearing a shirt, though I was. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"

"Language Rogers. I was a little early so I thought I'd pay you a visit."

"How... how did you find my house?" I asked. I glanced around, an embarrassed feeling creeping in as I scanned the drab and dilapidated room.

"I followed you home yesterday. By the way, I caught your mother on the way out. She's a very nice woman."

"That's a little stalkerish Buck."

"I'd prefer thoughtful." I scoffed at him and rolled out of bed.

"Whoa, the big bad quarterback wears booty shorts." I looked down and immediately covered my lower half with a pillow.

"Goddammit. I occasionally steal clothes from Nat to wear when I sleep."

"That's a bit stalkerish don't you think."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GET OUT!!"

"Language Rogers," he whispered as he shut the door. I took a deep breath to calm myself and began to get dressed.

"Stevie," Bucky whined from downstairs a few minutes later, "Hurry up!"

I blundered down the steps, eyes half closed with sleep while I dragged my backpack behind me. Bucky frisbeed a piece of toast at me, which bumped off my shoulder and fell to the floor. I picked it up and took a bite, too lazy and hungry to care about anything.

"Jesus Steven do you do anything with your hair." I shrugged, still rubbing sleep from my eyes. "It's hot," he added. I unsuccessfully tried to hide my wide grin.

We stumbled out to Bucky's car like the sleep-deprived zombies we were and began towards school.

For once in his life, Buck didn't demand music. The deadly silence kinda reminded me of everything said in Car Radio by Twenty One Pilots.

"You didn't have to lie about where you live," Bucky broke the stillness.

"Ok, we're doing this now," I mumbled.

"As good of a time as any." He pulled over to the side of the road.

"This... isn't necessary." I rested my forehead against the dashboard.

"Why'd you lie?" He asked while he put his hand on my back. I shot up at the sudden contact.

"Because I don't need anyone's sympathy," I choked out. "I don't want people to treat me differently." We sat in silence for a moment.

"I wouldn't have treated you any differently. You know me. I'm an asshole. I'm not capable of sympathy." I chuckled. "I just felt bad that you had to walk that far every day." We fell into silence again.

"Well now, this is weird. You know my big secret, and I barely know anything about you."

"Well... we'll have to fix that." He thought for a moment. I watched him intently.

I watched the way his hair fell in front of his face as he looked towards his feet. I watched the way his hand reached up to tuck it behind his ear. I watched as his eyes furrowed in concentration and his lips turned down into a frown. Then I watched as his face changed with his idea, though he didn't seem too content with the secret he chose to reveal. With only a moment of hesitation, he pulled off his glove. My mouth fell open as I made a grab for his hand.

"How? W-why?" I stuttered.

"That's a story for a different time but for now, we need to get to school or we'll miss History." Bucky brushed off my questions as though the secret he revealed was nothing of importance, but his eyes gave him away. I caught his gaze and, though it was only for a moment, I could see the worry.

I stared at him for the rest of the trip. He has a metal arm. Not even like a normal prosthetic. A full out robotic arm. He also has a REALLY nice chin. Like you could cut metal with that. Metal arm.

"Well, I don't need your pity, Steven."

"Pick a nickname."

"I refuse."

"Fine Barnes, Bucky, Buck, James, Buchanan."

"No one calls me by my middle name, Grant." I hit my head against the glove box.

"Shut up."

"Make me." I considered kissing him for a quick second.

"You're a child."

"Thank you."

"Eyes on the road Barnes."

"It's pretty badass," I mumbled a few moments later. He smiled. Then shook his head. Then burst into giggles.

"Thanks, Stevie."

Bucky eventually demanded music, and Gerard Way's voice filled the car. We arrived at school only a few short minutes later.

"How late are tryouts goi-"

"Hey, fag." My heart stopped. How do they know I'm bi? Who told them? What is happening?  My breath shortened. Bucky looked at me and placed his hand on my back protectively (which I realized had the glove on it again). He tensed up as if he were bracing for impact.

Someone reached out, grabbed his shoulder, and spun him around.

"There isn't any place here for pigs like you." Before anything else could happen, my instincts took over and I punched him in the face (Not Bucky, the guy talking to him).

"WHAT THE FUCK!" The man yelled. He crouched over, holding his nose in pain. Sadly it wasn't until then that I realized that the person I punched was Brock Rumlow.

"Whoa Rogers I didn't know you were such a fag lover," he yelled. Bucky gripped both of my arms and began to pull me towards the school. I tried to drag myself out of Bucky's hold and back to Brock, but he was surprisingly strong. I felt his metal fingers dig into my skin. "I'm gonna make your life a living hell," Rumlow screamed while Buck pulled me away.

"Buck stop you're hurting me." We were in the school building when Bucky immediately let go. He looked at his hand for a moment. Then down at me. At that point, I had rolled up my sleeve to reveal the dark bruises on my shoulder from his grasp.

"I am so... so sorry," he muttered, then sprinted out of the room. I wasted no time and immediately jumped up to follow him.

"Have you seen Bucky?" I yelled to Scott as I passed him.

"Who the hell's Bucky?" he responded. I waved him off and continued to run down the hall.

People hide in the bathroom when they're upset right? Right, let's check the bathroom.

"Buck?" I turned the corner and found that one of the stall doors was closed. "Bucky talk to me."

"No," he sobbed. My heart shattered.

"Bucky come out, please." Silence.

"Ok, I'm coming in." I slid my backpack into the stall, waited a moment, and crawled under after it.

I stood and was met with a sight that made the fragmented pieces of my heart break even more.

He sat on the toilet, legs pulled up to his chest. His hair was disheveled, falling in front of his face which was stained with tears. His hands were pressed onto either side of the stall and his breaths were shaky.

"Bucky," I whispered. I crouched down to his level and held my arms out, gesturing for a hug. He seemed to be anchoring himself to the stall, so I let my arms fall to my side.

"Breath with me," I uttered. "In, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four." We repeated the sequence until Bucky was able to speak.

"Thanks, Stevie," he chuckled, prying his right hand from the wall long enough to wipe the tears from his eyes.

"Brock won't say anything like that again I promise."

"It wasn't what Brock said that upset me. I've dealt with assholes like him my whole life." I looked at him with confusion, though I didn't press in fear of triggering another panic attack. Instead, I reached into my backpack and pulled out a bag of Hershey Kisses.

"Here. Chocolate makes everything better." We sat and ate a few pieces of candy in silence.

"I ran because I hurt you," Bucky said, looking anywhere but my face. "I can't control this... THING." He gestured toward his left arm angrily.

"Hey Buck shhh," I finally pulled him into a hug. "None of that was your fault. If you hadn't held onto me that tight I would've gotten to Rumlow and made it so much worse."

"Well... I appreciate the effort," he chuckled. "And I'll do my best to get my arm under control but it's always going to be tied to bad memories."

"I may be able to help a teensy bit." I rummaged through my bag for a moment before pulling out a marker. "You mind?" I questioned. He shrugged and motioned for me to continue. I drew a lopsided smiley face across the wrist of his metal arm then proceeded to doodle all over his forearm.

"Thanks," he laughed when I had finished. He reached out for me to help him up, then hugged me and rested his head on my shoulder.

We remained in the stall for the entirety of first period, completely forgetting about anything pertaining to American History.

If anyone has any good Stucky fanfics PLEASE SEND THEM TO ME I AM RUNNING OUT.

Also, can I just say that Dan Howell is one of the strongest people ever, and I love him with my entire being. Seriously his video made me cry so much I am so proud of him and grateful that he could share his struggles, many of which I relate to.

Anyways, my mental health is at an all time low so i don't know when the next chapter will get out. Sorry.

Love y'all.

~Kate