Soo, hey guys! A few days ago I watched Civil War and immediately after I wrote this. My pain was too intense and my heart was shuttered because of this damn movie and I'm emotionally dead. Anyway, a huge thank you to my beta ForeverShippingJohnlock and my great friend MyLovelyMarauder for always being there for me!

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone...I wouldn't be here if I did...

Now! Off with the story!

They have been captured because of the fiasco in the highway. Steve is with Sam and T'Challa in the car. The man that wants Bucky dead. For a crime he didn't even commit. There's a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach, and his shoulders are already tense. He is terrified of what will happen to Bucky. His Bucky. But he promises to himself that whatever it takes he won't let anyone lay a hand on him. Not while Steve is still breathing.

It has been an hour since they were captured and Sam has already started asking questions. Steve isn't really listening, though. His mind is wandering elsewhere, and more specifically, to the other car tailing them. The one that holds Bucky, trapped in a cage, like a god damn wild animal. Steve is infuriated because of the way they treat him, of the harshness of their movements and the coldness in their eyes.

They are afraid of Bucky, they blame him. No one actually believes that he is not the one who did it. That, just this once, he didn't do anything to harm people. They refuse to believe that there's more to him than a cruel, ruthless monster. That he isn't a monster.

But Steve does. He believes him. He believes those eyes he has seen so many times. The warm, soft blue that resembles the glint of ice but not its harshness. He believes the eyes of the man that held him in his arms after the passing of his mother, the eyes of the man that always protected him from the world, of the one that made sure he got enough medicine and who worked longer hours just to be able to afford it. He believes those stunning blues that belong to Bucky, and he doesn't see the ice cold gaze that is the Winter Soldier.

He believes the eyes he had come to love. The eyes of the man he would do anything for.

Steve remembers the time he had thought he would never see him again. It's a painful memory. Every time his mind decides to replay it – which is quite often – he also recalls the feeling of loss, of absolute helplessness and emptiness he had felt that day. He hears Bucky's scream echo in his mind, haunting him, playing over and over and over again. These are the times Steve wishes the most that he could still get drunk. The times he wants to forget anything for a night. But he isn't allowed even that. He is expected to always be strong and to never break. He is expected to bear the pain and to never seek escape. He is expected to do so many things, be so many things now. A leader, a hero, a just one at that, a savior, a soldier. He is expected to be Captain America all the time. His armor is expected to be devoid of cracks, of weak points.

With Bucky he wasn't expected to be anything. The only person he had to be in front of Bucky was himself. Just plain old Steve. That's all Bucky ever wanted from him.

He feels tears gathering in his eyes. He misses those days. Even when they didn't have everything, they had enough. When all they needed was each other and everything they wanted was in their hearts. They were hard but peaceful days. Beautiful.

Another memory comes to mind. This time a much more recent one. He remembers fighting the Winter Soldier, avoiding blows, thinking of strategies to escape but protect, knocking the black mask from the man's face. He remembers the exact moment his mind went blank and it started screaming only one word. A word he had forbidden himself to utter a long time ago. Bucky.

And he whispered the name because he couldn't hold it in. His resolve was cracking, starting to mirror his heart that was already shattered.

And "Who the hell is Bucky?" makes him hold back a scream, biting his cheek so damn hard to keep it in that it starts bleeding.

Steve remembers the eyes that looked at him then, all steel save for a small hint of vulnerability only he could see. And somewhere in there, he could see the man he fell in love with.

If someone had asked Steve a few years ago which was his most painful memory, he would have said the one when Bucky fell. But now, his reply would be different. He would say it was the first time he fought with the Winter Soldier. When the truth of what had happened was out in the open, staring him in the eyes, daring him to deny it.

At least at the train he knew Bucky had died with control over his own body and with his mind still... his.

Bucky had been many things throughout the years. A thief (for Steve), a flirt, a soldier, a friend, a savior, a hero to the scrawny guy. But he had always been Bucky. It was something that couldn't, shouldn't, be taken from him. But Steve had come to realize that Hydra has no boundaries.

But he can see that Bucky is trying so hard to escape the thing Hydra made him. He's trying so hard and he is in pain. Steve can see it plain as day. So, so much pain. He doesn't deserve this. Not him.

Steve feels the salty tears ready to spill now, but he turns his head and blinks rapidly to make them disappear. This is not the time and definitely not the place.

He lets himself drown in the endless questions Sam asks, desperately searching for a distraction.

"So you like cats?"

"Sam," he says, knowing that his friend is starting to get annoying.

"What? Dude shows up dressed like a cat and you don't wanna know more?"

Honestly, no he doesn't. He has dealt with enough for one day and he is worried about what will happen to Bucky once they reach their destination. But he has to keep his mind busy so instead of replying to Sam, he makes a question of his own, which frankly had bothered him since he first saw the guy.

"Your suit. Vibranium?"

Breaking his silence, he doesn't actually reply to Steve's question but doesn't hesitate to address him with another one.

"The Black Panther has been the protector of Wakanda for generations. A mantle passed from warrior to warrior. And now because your friend murdered my father, I also wear the mantle of king. So I ask you, as both warrior and king, how long do you think you can save your friend from me?"

Steve doesn't give voice to his answering thoughts. Partly because he knows what T'Challa's reaction will be and partly because he doesn't want to reveal too much to the man that's trying to kill the one he's trying to protect…

Forever if I have to.

I hope you liked it! Reviews are always welcomed and you know how much I freaking love them!

Byeeee

46captain46