In honor of "Civil War" being released on DVD/Blu-Ray, I decided to post this collection of one-shots that I have been sitting on for a while.

This story so far only has ten chapters, but it is also one of those stories when the muse hits that I will write something for it, so I hope that doesn't bother anyone, but you are guaranteed 10 chapters. :)

Furthermore there isn't any slash/pairings in this. Bucky and Steve are only [best] friends/brothers in this particular story.

So I hope you all enjoy this story and feedback is appreciated!

His ma was going to be mad.

She had been saving up what little money they had to buy him a pair of new khaki slacks, suspenders, and a white cotton shirt for his 1st day in 1st grade.

His mom had been up early pressing his slacks with creases that could cut butter. After a lot of pleading she conceded and even let him polish his loafers. He knew his mother was hoping this school year would turn out better than the last.

Yet, his ma's hard work was in ruins for something so clumsy.

Steve knows his body isn't normal like most kids.

His body was riddled with medical ailments that the threat of getting a paper cut had him in the emergency room. He saw the fear in his mother's eyes each time the doctor found a new prognosis that weakened his already small frame.

Despite his physical conditions, his mother never set out to treat her only son any different. The same couldn't be said for other people.

He learned very quickly during his brief and lonely excursions at the park, that when his peers weren't offering to let him play with them out of pity, they tended to avoid him at all costs. The cruel nickname of Sickly Steve had spread like a bad rash in his neighborhood and schoolyard after numerous asthma attacks alone.

But most of all what Steve didn't anticipate was the bullies.

He would go home every day questioning his ma why exactly people – kids – looked to hurt people for their own nefarious reasons. It dumbfounded him that people could be so cruel. How kids the same age and a few years older could steal lunch money, say inappropriate things to other classmates, or physically harm another being who they felt were inferior to them.

Sickly Steve was quickly placed on top of that list too.

He remembers the first time he came home with scraped hands and knees after a scuffle with a boy who had pushed a girl. His ma's blue eyes were wide with worry and trepidation. He could admit, he was too proud to admit that his little body ached from the impact of hitting the cement. Yet, he was filled with pride as his ma compared him to his father for standing up to the boy who pushed the little girl.

You are courageous like your father, she had told him before the melancholy swarmed her heart and leaked out of her eyes at the beloved memories of his dad. Those words began his meager war on bullies.

Yet, he ignores the stinging of his palms from the pebbles of the playground as they dig into his skin, he thought he could definitely benefit in having another member in his one man platoon.

He begins to stand on his wobbly knees expecting another push from Arthur McCrery, a pudgy kid who reminds him of a baby elephant, when Arthur lands next to him face first onto the ground; a whine escaping his throat. A voice behind them tells Arthur to scram which he does.

Steve stands up sharply to the third unknown party despite the protesting of his knees which almost causes him to buckle, but he is saved from the fall by a hand catching him.

"You alright?"

Steve looks up to see a boy not much taller than him with blue eyes, brighter than his own ocean blue, and dark brown hair. The boy has a concerned smile on his face and it makes Steve relax slightly that he won't have to take on two boys.

"Ya hit your head or something?" The boy asks after a round of silence, eyeing him critically.

Steve blinks and nods his head hastily, "Yeah…no-I'm mean," Steve pauses and takes a deep breath which his lungs are grateful for and looks the tan boy in the eyes. "I'm okay. Thanks for your help."

The boy looks at him skeptically, the same way his mother does when he is fibbing, before replying, "What's your name?"

"Steve. Steven Rogers." Steve tells him extending his hand, formally, like his mother taught him.

The brunet boy laughs lightly and accepts the handshake, "James Barnes. But I go by Bucky. You want to play knucklebones?" Bucky asks him nodding his head over to a group of kids who were enthralled by the game.

"I – wh-"

Bucky rolls his eyes at him and before Steve can form any kind of response he is being dragged by the kid over to the game.

"You can be on my team," Bucky tells him as they make their way across the playground.

Steve doesn't say anything but nods his head, stupefied.

"So what did you do to that kid anyways?"

"Oh, I…um, I tripped over my shoes and accidentally knocked into him." Steve reveals to him.

Bucky stops walking and releases the hold he had on his arm and inquires. "That's what had him all riled up?"

Steve shrugs his shoulder and wonders if this kid – Bucky – is blind or something worse. "Well, he and most of his friends don't seem to like me much."

"Why?"

"Look at me."

"What's wrong with ya? You seem fine ta me."

Steve shrugs his shoulders, "You'd be surprised."

"Well you can tell me all about it later after you help me win in knucklebones." Bucky insists.

Steve releases a small smile at least his ma will be happy he made a friend, he thinks.

Knucklebones is jacks.

Thanks for reading!