Chapter Three

Steve clung to Bucky's arm.

Getting up was proving more difficult then he'd thought.

"Just take it easy..."

Bucky was using the tone he usually reserved when Steve was sick, and he found himself nodding, glad his friend was able to support most of his weight.

The dames had been sent off quickly, under the lie that he had caught a flu, and Steve was grateful they wouldn't see him like this.

Pain lancing through his hips made his legs buckle, a pained noise escaping his throat.

His friend caught him, Buck staring down at him, his face a mask of concern, "do you need to sit down?"

The thought of sitting made him tense, and he shook his head, keeping a grip on the taller mans arms, "no... 'wanna shower..."

"You can barely stand up... You sure a bath wouldn't be better?"

Steve's mouth opened and closed, and he nodded, "fine..."

They moved slowly, just getting out of the bedroom seeming to take forever, the pain in his back and legs only seeming to get worse with every shuffled step.

He let out a breath when they reached the bathroom, cringing when Bucky reached out to turn on the light.

Bucky moved into the small space, leaving Steve to cling to the dingy vanity, keeping his eyes downcast, unable to look at himself in the mirror.

His chest was feeling tight again, his breath leaving his lungs in a wheeze, 'this has to all be a dream... ' he stared at his hands, the scrapes and bruises on them looking worse due to his grip on the sink.

"Steve..."

He flinched when a hand touched his shoulder, cringing from the contact, "m'fine..."

"Do you need help getting in the tub?"

Steve finally looked away from his hands, staring at Bucky, who still seemed slightly out of focus, "...m'fine, can do it myself."

"Kid, you look like you're about to keel over... You can't even stand up without somethin' supporting yah..." Bucky stared back at him, "let me help."

Swallowing, Steve nodded, "Can... can you help with m'coat?"

"Yeah, 'course... we'll do an arm at a time..." Bucky moved back slightly, waiting for the smaller man to shakily hold an arm out, reaching out to gently pull the tattered fabric down his arm, "I don't want you falling down."

"Won't... im good..." Steve let out a relieved breath when his arm was finally free, the other arm coming free much easier and with less strain on his shoulders, "thank you."

Bucky was staring at him again, giving him that unfortunate look, "this was your good shirt... s'trash now... we need to get it off..."

He sucked in a wheezy breath, 'I don't want him to see... he can't see...'

"'Can do it m'self... Don't need more help..."

The taller man stared at him, looking worried, "Steve... Please, just let me help...'

Steve gripped the counter again, "don't want help! Can do it m'self! Just... just get out!..." his chest was getting tighter again, he had to focus on breathing, "please... Buck... just..."

'Don't start crying now! Don't do it... He won't leave if you do...'

"I'm gonna be sitting right outside the door, alright?" Buckys voice seemed to calm for Steve's liking, he wasn't one to just stand down when yelled at, especially by Steve.

Steve forced himself to nod, sucking in a breath, "fine... s'fine."

He swallowed, sagging slightly when the older man stepped out, door closing quietly behind him.

'He's mad at me... But that means he'll leave me alone...'

Taking a breath, Steve finally looked at himself in the mirror, feeling the bile rise in his throat.

He was more of a mess than he had thought, one eye almost completely swollen shut, a nasty looking cut went across his nose, his lip was puffy and his throat looked like a solid red and blue bruise, not to mention the dried blood and... Steve forced himself to swallow, fluids, stuck in his hair.

'No wonder Bucky was lookin' at me like that...'

Steve took a slight breath before lifting his arms slowly, muscles screaming in protest, to undo the few buttons he'd manage to redo the night before, then sucked in a breath when he realized he wasn't going to be able to get the shirt down his shoulders.

'I'm gonna need his help with this... damn it!'

He let out a slow breath, hands returning to the sink to steady himself, "Buck..."

There was a slight shuffle outside the door, his friends voice muffled by the wood between them, "you alright?"

"I... I can't get m'shirt off... can you..." Steve found himself trailing off. 'Why did this have to happen?'

The door opened quietly, the taller man stepping back into the small room, "did you get the buttons?"

Steve nodded, unable to look at himself to Buck in the mirror, "thank you."

"Nothing to thank me for, kid... Glad to help." Bucky carefully unstuck the shirt from the back of his friends neck, then began to carefully work at getting the tattered fabric down Steve's scrawny arms, frowning at the bruise's and marks he uncovered, feeling his anger rise at the cuts and red welts on the smaller mans forearms, "'they tie you up?"

Steve tensed, slowly moving his arms to look at them, 'they had the belts tighter then I thought...'

He couldn't breathe, it hurt so much, and the nails digging into his hips weren't helping.

He attempted to pull at the belts binding his arms, but his shoulders disapproved and the hand in his hair pulled, making him gasp into the hip against his face, a strangled sounding groan escaping.

"Geez, for a fag I thought he'd be looser."

Another pained gasp escaped when the man behind him gave a rough thrust into him.

The man who held his hair pulled his head up with a laugh, "Just keep fuckin' him... he'll loosen up, and when you're done Smith can have a go."

Steve attempted to twist himself away again, only to have his bound arms grabbed by the guy behind him, the hand in his hair pulling again, allowing him a quick flash of grinning white teeth.

"And you pretty boy, can put that mouth back to work."

Steve shuddered, struggling against the urge to gag again, knowing it would only make his already upset stomach feel worse, he shifted his weight slightly, breathing through his nose.

"Steve..."

He slowly opened his eyes, resisting the urge to cringe away from his friends touch, taking a moment before meeting Bucky's upset gaze in the mirror.

"You need to talk to me... Tell me who did this..."

Steve's grip tightened again around the edge of the sink, sucking in a breath that threatened to turn into a sob despite his best efforts, "M'sorry... I just can't."