Bucky and Steve Oneshots

Lost

Steve groaned in frustration. Him and his friends, including Tony, had been looking for a Bucky for ages. The last time Steve had seen his friend, he was sitting just outside the Smithsonian, relaxing, while he went in to look at the museum, once again being reminded of his painful past.
In a way, he's glad that they found Bucky and put him in cryo, or else he wouldn't be here. But at the same time, they put him through complete hell. Nothing could make him forgive that.
He hadn't realized he had bawled his hands into tight fists, his nails digging painfully into his palm, until Tony put a hand on his shoulder. "We'll find him, Cap."
Steve sighed. "Thanks, Tony. But he could be anywhere...what if HYDRA found him?"
"Even if they did, Bucky would have likely fought them all off anyway," Natasha said from a distance.
Steve knew, knowing Bucky, that wasn't a lie. His friend wouldn't allow himself to be captured and stripped of his memories again, especially the memories of Steve.
Apparently, Bucky had remembered having fought him on the helicarrier, along with on the streets. He had apologized to him over and over again for trying to kill him.
Despite everything, Bucky was still protective of Steve. The same went for him to Bucky. He wouldn't let anyone take Bucky from him again, and he's sure Bucky would say the same for him.
After a few hours of searching, dusk was beginning to reveal itself. They had retired on the search, and were planning to head back and get some rest. Steve, however, convinced them to let him stay behind to continue the search around the Smithsonian. He was determined to find his friend, no matter what it took.
He walked along the sidewalk and passed the entrance of the museum. He eyed the bench the metal-armed man had sat on before he had been taken, or whatever had happened to him. Steve was still unsure.
He rounded the corner and continued walking. He peered into the alleyways, squinting to see in the darkness.
The streets were also eerily empty. Intersections sat empty, awaiting some sort of traffic to come to put it to use. There was almost no human being in sight, besides himself. Everyone must have turned in extremely early.
He pulled out his phone. 9:45 pm.
Steve sighed and slipped it back into his pocket. He strolled down the sidewalk, until coming upon a particularly strange and somewhat suspicious alley.
He didn't know why his gut was telling him to look, because it looked identical to all the other alleyways he had seen in the past hour.
Steve Rogers stood there for a moment; at the entrance of the alleyway. Finally, he walked into the alley, squinting at the extreme darkness.
Crap, he didn't bring a flashlight.
He heard a pained and weak groan just a few feet in front of him. He recognized it.
"Bucky?" He whispered into the dark, he walked a little bit more before the area got a bit lighter.
His eyes widened.
Bucky was laying on the cold ground. There was a small puddle of blood under his left leg, and he could visibly see some of the blood on his face as well.
Steve rushed over and fell to his knees next to his friend. "Bucky!"
The man opened his eyes slightly. Steve noticed them drift around lazily before they landed and locked onto Steve's.
He noticed the relieved, bloodied smile, spread across Bucky's face.
"Steve..." His voice cracked slightly. "Steve.."
He raised his flesh arm and gripped Steve's, repeating his name repeatedly, as if it were a lifeline.
Steve gave a small smile, "I'm here," before finally focusing back on the blood.
"What happened, Buck?"
The injured man blinked and then frowned. "I don't know."
"Were you unconscious?"
"Probably.
"Figures;" Steve gave a soft chuckle.
"Are you okay?" Bucky asked out of the blue.
Steve blinked at him confusingly, before finally getting it.
"Oh, yea. Yea I'm fine. Don't worry 'bout me, Buck."
"That would be difficult," Bucky's voice tightened in pain at the last word. His metal hand flew over his abdomen as he attempted to sit up. He succeeded, but leaned heavily against Steve.
"Easy, Bucky.."
Bucky gave a few coughs. His head lolled to the side slightly. He blinked confusingly at the sky until Steve snapped him out of it.
"God, Barnes.." Steve muttered under his breath. He helped Bucky to his feet, who leaned heavily against him in return. He had one arm around Steve's shoulders and one across his chest.
"Are you sure you're okay, Steve..?" Bucky randomly asked again.
Steve rolled his eyes. "I'm fine. You should be worrying about yourself. I'm not important."
He noticed Bucky's tired gaze lift up to him. "Of course you're I-important, Steve.." his head hung again. He was clearly exhausted, but still put Steve's feelings and well-being before his own. "You're my best friend.." he muttered.
Steve looked up to meet Bucky's weak smile. He shook his head and chuckled.
"You are too, Buck."
He smiled.
Steve had already notified Tony of what happened, and they were currently coming to give them a lift back to base.
Steve gently set himself and Bucky down on the sidewalk while they awaited Tony's arrival. He instantly felt Bucky collapse against him, breathing labored.
Steve glanced toward him and saw that Bucky was doing the same, except he looked a bit more distressed. Blood was starting to drip from his mouth. He coughed again, this time reaching out and grabbing Steve's shirt with his flesh hand.
Bucky's breathing instantly started to get faster, which worried Steve. He quickly placed a hand on his friend's back.
"It's okay, Bucky, you'll be fine. You're safe.."
Bucky leaned his head against Steve's shoulder. It took a few moments, but eventually his breathing slowed.
"Thank you, Steve.." Bucky muttered breathlessly.
Steve nodded. "Anytime pal."