Pierdut(lost)

E V A D A R E

(hey, guys, it's the author here! I just wanted y'all to know that even though the pic up there is just fanart(by me) and not angsty, the next part will have more angst fanart! Please vote and comment!-much love)

•escape•

/əˈskāp/

verb

•1• elude or get free from (someone)

***
As Steve awoke, he woke to the smell of sizzling maple bacon and fluffy cinnamon pancakes. My favorite. He arose, nose in the air. He twirled and turned to the kitchen, following the scent. "I made you some breakfast, Steve." Bucky called behind him, dressed in black joggers and a t-shirt. Steve slid up next to Bucky and sniffed into the food heartily. "You are a great cook, Buck." He stated. Bucky flushed and turned off the oven. "It's the most I can do to apologise for my.... accident yesterday." He mumbled shyly, plating the scrumptious food. Steve stared him in the eye, spotting the guilt in his gaze. "You've got nothing to feel guilty about Bucky." He stared hard into his eyes, pushing his point. Bucky gulped and nodded, sitting at the dining table.

"What are we doing today, Steve?" Bucky asked through a mouthful of pancakes. He had stuffed his mouth for ten minutes, plowing through three stacks of pancakes. Steve had followed suit, but slower. He had forgotten that Bucky hadn't eaten since he showed up at midnight yesterday. "What else can we do, Bucky? You have S.H.E.I.L.D. and HYDRA on your tail and I'm harboring you. Just by not letting Sharon inform S.H.I. E.L.D. of your whereabouts puts me on the organization's hitlist. We're both fugitives, but we'll be fugitives together." Steve leaned forward, placing his silverware down. "No, Steve. I'm not, I can't let you go down with me. I won't let you." Bucky pushed his chair back, standing. He couldn't get up very well, though to his damaged arm. "You gotta get that fixed, Buck. We can't run with a handicap." Steve stood, helping. Bucky sighed and let him help him. "You're still not coming with me." Bucky grumbled sternly. Steve nodded, but as he turned from Bucky, the look of determination was not missed. Bucky huffed.
***
Two hours into the day and Steve was already bored. He hadn't realized how boring it would be to be in confinement, quarantined from anyone who he couldn't trust and that was everyone. But that meant he couldn't go outside and he couldn't do jackshit, aside from watch TV. Is this how he lived two days ago? Disgusting.

Bucky, on the other hand, used his spare time to think about the one thing on his plate: Steve. Ever since he was last frozen about a year ago, he had been receiving uncharacteristically happy memories. Most of them were about Steve. Who was he kidding, they were all about Steve. Why was he so important? He was sure that he probably had other friends that weren't that bony troublemaker, but every time he tried to think about his past, his stupid brain pushed Steve even farther. It was unbelievably frustrating. He had a special place in Bucky's heart, but what was that place? Best friend or..? That last thought made his heart race. No...

"Bucky, come here!" Steve called, seated on the large couch. The super soldier shuffled into the living, his eyes catching the bright pictures on the television. "Wanna watch something with me? You know, before we run?" Steve asked, purposefully emphasizing the word. Bucky sighed, placing one hand on his hip. "Sure, whaddya wanna watch, Steve?" Bucky breathed. Steve flicked through the channels before landing on a documentary. "World War Two documentary, huh,Buck? I bet we'd know." He chuckled. His friend sank onto the couch, already interested.

"What the hell? That's not even close to what actually happened! These historians." Steve growled at the TV. Bucky smiled at his anger. It reminded him...

"What's got you so hot, pal?" Bucky chuckled, ruffling his smaller friend's hair. "That dame, Beth, from across the street. Her beau's been beating on her; I heard 'im, Buck. I had to do something." Steve growled. Bucky's smile melted into a frown. "Beating on 'er? That's not right." He grumbled. "Damn right it's not!" Steve exclaimed, boiling. "Is that why I had to beat him up?" Bucky asked. Steve glared him in the eye. "I didn't need you to save me, Buck. I had him!" He shouted. Bucky shushed him. "I know, I know. But I want to save you. It's what I'm here for, Stevie. I'm your knight in shining armor." Bucky's smile reappeared. Steve's eyebrow quirked. "So what's that make me? A princess in distress?" Bucky smirked, leaning into his ear. "You're my prince."

"What'd you think, Buck?" The muscular man poked his arm, startling him from his memory. He blinked. "What'd you think of the movie, Buck? As inaccurate as it was, it was pretty good." Steve smiled his Steve smile. Bucky smiled back. "I thought it was great."

***

Bucky sat in Steve's room, rifling through his black backpack. It had clothes, but mostly it contained journals. Taking out the most recent one, he began to write. I remembered Steve getting into a fight with a woman beater. The man was wrapped up with a dame named Beth, most likely Elizabeth. I called him my prince, whatever that means. "Buck, whatcha writing?" Steve creeped up behind Bucky, catching him off guard. "Nothing! It's nothing." He exclaimed. He quickly shut the notebook and stuffed it into his backpack. Steve's eyebrow quirked and zipped the bag. "Are you ready to go, Buck?" He grasped his shoulder. Bucky nodded and glanced at the hand. Steve coughed and placed his hand by his side. "We go at night." Bucky grumbled.

***

Night had come, the moon the only light cutting through the dark sky. Bucky had stayed awake since he had last spoke to Steve, fearful of his own mind. It didn't help that his arm was buzzing and spitting out of control. He rolled over to Steve and shook him awake, the tears on Steve's face shining. "Steve, wake up." He whispered. Steve's eyes flashed open and he fearfully gazed at Bucky. "Bucky?" He rasped. Bucky smiled. "I'm only letting you come with me so that I can keep an eye on you." He quipped, glaring playfully. Steve smiled sleepily. "It's eleven pm, it's time to go." Steve groaned in displeasure, rolling out of bed. He splashed water on his face and rubbed the crusties out of his eyes.

Bucky sat at the front door, peeking from under the window blinds. From across the street, he identified three suspicious men. Two near the apartment, one in the other complex. "Oh, you've gotta be kidding me." He sighed. Checking his bag, he pulled out a gun and loaded it. I wish it didn't end in a fight all the time. "Steve, let's go. There's a possible fight downstairs and there might be a bigger fight than I can see." He called. Steve stepped out, dressed in casual clothes and his shield straps, placing the weapon on his back. "Where's your stuff?" Bucky asked, gesturing at his backpack-less form. Steve made an 'O' shape with his thin mouth and ran back into his room, re-emerging with a brown pack. "Alright, now let's go." Steve smiled. Bucky smiled back.