A/N: Written for Legion22's Cross-Over Challenge on the Avengers Challenge Forum.


Steve had never considered Bucky to be very lucky. The boy, because that is always what Steve would think of him as, had been the epitome of bad luck. To have wandered in like he had at the moment that Steve was changing out of his Captain America suit. To be sworn to secracy and to a life of fighting. To lose his life saving Steve's, because the world needed Captain America 'more'.

That wasn't luck.

Technically, Steve could have been furious at the younger soldier for just barging into his tent like he had. He could have taken out his anger and his frustrations on Bucky everyday if he'd really wanted to. It would never have been mentioned, if he had, simply because he was the Captain America. The hero. The warrior. Their savior. People would have merely turned a blind eye to it all.

Steve had never considered Bucky to be lucky that he hadn't. He had never thought the blond should have been thankful that Steve had treated him the same way he would treat a brother; or even a son. Because, when someone is willing to risk their life for yours and keep your secret, it's not right to treat them like they're worthless.

It wasn't luck. It was just reality.

Or that was what Steve believed until S.H.I.E.L.D., in their infinite wisdom, sent the Avengers to stay in Gotham for a month. With the holiday season starting up, the amount of crime in the city had sky rocketed. There were too many jokesters, goblins, and ghouls running amok for one person to handle on their own. Even if that person did happen to be the Caped Crusader himself.

It had seemed odd to Steve that, during the packing, no one seemed even remotely excited for their impromptu trip. It meant more work, sure, but everything that he'd heard had indicated a relationship with Batman would be a great thing. The man, simply put, was a genius. To be at the level he was and never having anything done to him, like Steve had, and not use a gadget of sorts to fight with, like Tony did, seemed like it would be astounding. Being on good terms with him should have been a good thing, right?

Of course, he'd asked Tony about it.

"You'll get it once you meet him, Steve. The guy's a bastard." Tony had said angrily, then he'd scowled and shook his head and gone right back to shoving rumpled pieces of clothing into his duffelbag.

Steve had thought Tony had been exaggerating, as the other man was known to do when it wasn't someone he was particularly fond with. How bad could someone who risked their lives everyday to protect the denizens of Gotham from harm be?

His first clue should have been the dreary state of Wayne Manor. A lone carved jack-o-lanturn sat on the front steps; the only sign, aside from the plethora of red and gold leaves scattered about, that Halloween was just around the corner. There were no lights, no other decorations, just the large old oak door.

The fact that Bruce wasn't actually there to greet them might have been another, if Steve hadn't been so keen on talking with Jarvis. The elderly butler had many stories to tell though, about the city they would be staying in for the month and the things that had changed over the last twenty or so years. The master of the household was not mentioned once.

Even after Steve's brief introduction to the man, he didn't get what the other Avengers aversion to him was. Sure, he was short with them. Maybe even a little nasty; just in the tone he was speaking with and the way everything he said held an air of superiority. But that was hardly enough to get the whole team against him.

It wasn't until the day he met Robin, or Richard as he was actually named, that Steve found his own reason to dislike the masked man.

There was no bond between the two. No love, no friendship, no respect. In fact, it was hardly anything more than Bruce buffalloing Dick around.

And Steve found that to be beyond dispicable.

'Do this.'

'Do that.'

'Too slow.'

'Too weak.'

As though Dick was nothing more than hired help. As though, at any moment, he couldn't turn around and tell everyone who Batman really was. Where he lived, how he behaved, what his weaknesses were. Every little secret had been intrusted to this boy, whether Bruce knew that Dick was aware of them or not, and he was still treated like the dust beneath ones nails.

But it wasn't his place to speak up and tell Bruce that, so Steve kept his mouth shut. Eyes down. Danced around the corners and did his best to avoid seeing the younger man. When he had no choice but to spend time with Dick or Bruce, he made sure it was never just the two of them.

Jan did wonders for making sure no one else had a chance to talk.

It worked out for the most part. There were no incidents and the month passed quickly enough; though with it came a sour taste in Steve's mouth and a voice in the back of his mind, sounding remarkably similar to Thor's, that insisted something be said. Insisted that he not leave without telling one of the two masked fighters what he really thought.

Steve almost managed to ignore it.

The day they were ready to board the jet and head back to Stark Manor came and, as everyone had expected, Bruce was not around to see them off. That task was delagated to Dick; despite the fact that it was barely even dawn and the boy had been out until late running about with Bruce, who had been looking for trouble and someone to fight.

Steve was just about to walk onto the jet, sleek black and from Bruce's private collection, with Tony when he glanced over his shoulder. Saw shoulders slumped and blue eyes filled with, not anger towards Bruce, but hate turned on himself. Crescent shadows starting to form, highlighted by the rosy light of the rising sun and cracking what was nearly a perfect mask of indifference.

And all he could think was that, if it had been Bucky standing there, he would have wanted someone to reach out a hand.

Giving the bag he'd been carrying to Tony, who just shook his head and continued on into the plane, Steve walked over to the side-kick. Placing a hand on the young boy's shoulder, he offered a small smile.

Dick didn't smile back.

"I know that we haven't really spoken much, Richard, and I'm sorry for that. I just wanted to let you know before I left that it doesn't mean much to me. If you ever need anything at all, I will be more than happy to help. If you call Tony's manor, JARVIS will let me know you're calling and we can talk. About anything." Steve explained, letting his hand drop back down to his side.

"Oh. Uh, sure? I mean, thanks, I guess." Dick said, taking a small step away from Steve.

And, as Steve turned to join the other Avengers on the plane, he tried not to pay attention to the completely bewildered look on Dick's face. Like the offer, of nothing more than an open ear and a ready hand to help steady him should he lose his balance, was a foriegn one.

And maybe Bucky had been just a little lucky in the past. Lucky enough to at least stumble upon someone who actually cared for him; as more than just another weapon.