A/N: So, um... bad Captain America fanfiction, but I wrote it for a class and figured I might as well post it, so. I did edit it some, but bad writing will always remain bad writing, I think. So, enjoy? It includes kind-of Stucky. Warnings for character death, extremely unrealistic depictions of said character death, and, most likely, references to half a dozen tumblr posts I saw in passing at some point and subconsciously worked into my writing.

There was a loud clanging noise as Steve flew backwards and into the trash cans, quickly snatching up the lid to one and holding it up as a makeshift shield. The sound was familiar to him by now, almost comforting, in a way.

He had a good dozen or so bruises forming when Bucky came barreling around the corner, giving his tormenter numerous kicks and punches, causing him to flee. He offered a hand to Steve, who ignored it and pulled himself off the ground, carefully setting down the trash can lid, and Bucky couldn't help but smile a bit because really, how could you not love a kid who's weapon of choice wasn't a weapon at all, but a means of defense?

"Jesus Christ. You need to stop getting yourself into fights."

Steve brushed himself - and the comment - off. "I was fine! You didn't need to step in."

"Whatever, kid," Bucky started, and ignored Steve's indignant cry of "We're the same age!" so he could continue. "Let's head to mine and do something about those bruises."

"Yeah, alright," Steve muttered, looking downtrodden. They walked back to Bucky's house, Steve kicking stones along the gravel path as they went, while Bucky pretended not to notice the aggression. When they arrived, Bucky let them in through the back door and threw a bottle of bruise ointment at Steve, who pulled off his shirt and applied it hurriedly, as if his pride was being wounded with every drop of the stuff.

Bucky waited, moderately impatient, just as he was with everything. As soon as Steve had pulled his shirt back over his head, Bucky grinned and said, "Let's go ice skating!"

Steve smiled slightly. That was one thing he could do better than Bucky, and though he knew it was only being suggested to cheer him up, he gladly jumped at the offer, so they pulled on coats, grabbed skates, and headed out.

Their town didn't have a skating rink, per say. What they did have was a large lake that froze over every winter, and it was a pretty popular destination for anyone from small children to young couples this time of year. However, winter was quickly drawing to a close, and the lake would soon melt again, so they had to squeeze in skating time whenever possible until spring began.

When they arrived at the lake, there were only a couple of other people there, but they soon dwindled off, leaving the entire lake to Steve and Bucky. They quickly laced up their skates and took to the ice. At first they stayed cautiously at the edges, but eventually Steve skated forwards closer to the center.

"Oi, be careful!" Bucky called, but Steve just laughed.

"Come on, Buck, it's fine! Look!" he said, twirling in a mock pirouette. Bucky sighed.

"Fine, fine," he muttered, and skated towards Steve, who was performing intricate jumps and twirls across the center of the ice. He stopped a few feet from the middle, watching Steve amusedly. Steve stopped his routine and called to Bucky.

"Come over here, the ice is smoother! It's nice!" Bucky smiled indulgently and skated forward.

Crack.

Bucky froze and looked down. A spiderweb pattern of cracks was spreading rapidly across the ice beneath him. He tried to skate backwards slowly, but it only made the situation worse. He froze again. A chunk of ice fell into the water about a foot away from him, causing Steve's head to turn towards him and take view of Bucky's unfortunate predicament. His eyes widened and he surveyed the rest of the area. They were entirely alone.

"Oh god. Okay. Okay, um, just, uh, try to skate away slowly?" He said. Bucky shook his head, barely moving for fear of disrupting the ice.

"Already tried," He said, sounding surprisingly calm.

"Okay. Okay. Okay," Steve muttered, almost hyperventilating. "I'll... I'll go get help. I can do that. I'll just- okay. Yeah," He started to skate towards the edge, but Bucky stopped him.

"No."

Steve looked confused. "What?"

"Don't- don't leave."

"I have to get help!"

"There won't be enough time, kid. You know that. Look," He gestured downwards. The cracks were becoming more and more profound. The ice wouldn't hold his weight much longer. "Besides, the closer you get, the easier it will be for you to fall through. I can swim. Maybe I'll be able to pull myself out," They both knew he was lying to himself, but it was the type of lie that you're glad to hear, and the type of lie that is the most painful when it turns out to be untrue.

"Buck..."

"Drop it. Just... just stay with me, okay?"

Steve took a shaky breath. "Okay."

They didn't talk anymore after that. How could they? They were simply biding their time until the inevitable. As the cracks became bigger and bigger and the ice became shakier and shakier, Bucky spoke up one last time.

"I love you, kid. You know that, right?"

Steve nodded, eyes shining and stinging with unshed tears. "I know. Love you too, Buck."

"Take care of yourself for me, alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I will."

And then the ice caved in, leaving nothing but a small boy standing unmoving on the ice, teardrops frozen to his cheeks and two words echoing over and over in his mind.

My fault. My fault. My fault.

The next day, he enlisted in the army.