Thank you for all the advice! I hope that I don't disappoint anyone!

"Bucky?"

Bucky hears the voice yet he can't seem to respond to it. He feels strong arms wrap around his shivering waist and pull him up with such carefulness Bucky half expects that he is dreaming it. Together, they stumble towards the house while the younger man can no longer hold himself upright anymore. His knees threaten to give out and he can feel sticky wetness on his face that may be blood. Yet Bucky pushes these feelings aside; ignores how he feels like he had trained himself to do these many years. His pain doesn't matter.

Only when his feet connect with the edge of a couch does Bucky stagger and crumble to his side. He hears a soft voice by his side but he can't hear him. Bucky knows in the back of his mind who this voice belongs to…He remembered he ran; ran from the screaming of faces that he had known for years and yet couldn't recall their names, he ran from the danger, the villains and the heroes and he just ran…straight to where he somehow just knew that he would be safe from…everyone. "я не знаю, что делать …" Bucky said in a low, scared voice, uncaring who heard him or not.

"I didn't know where else to go…" Bucky whispered, his eyes squeezing shut as he is biting back a yell of pain as he feels careful hands moving his legs and arms onto the sofa. Within seconds Bucky is curled up into a tight ball onto his side, his body still stinging from the fresh injuries.

Steve's hands tremble with emotion at Bucky's words. Once Bucky is settled cautiously on the couch, he feels himself start to slip off to sleep when he is rudely interrupted. "Where are you hurt?"

Reluctantly, Bucky opens his eyes. Where was he again? Bucky tried to move his head towards the voce and a sharp sting stopped him. это больно, why did everything hurt? Blue eyes met blue and with a whisper Bucky murmurs hopefully "Steve?"

Nodding miserably at the hope in the young man's eyes, Steve stares at the teen's battered face and mentally calculates his injuries. A deep cut is on Bucky's cheek and with fury in the pit of Steve's gut he recognizes it as a knife wound and he has little doubt as to who put it there. Around his left eye and chin are black and blue bruises that are clearly from punches. Moving on he sees that through Bucky's black shirt has another slice of a knife that only barely missed any skin.

"How did you find this place?" Steve questions more out of a curiosity than an accusing manner.

Bucky looks down at his fingers and starts playing with a loose string of thread that is coming out of his jeans. "I saw a picture you did in a paper. It had your name on it…I-I waited until…a client was asleep and I used her laptop to search for where you lived." Bucky looks up worriedly. "I wasn't trying to do something bad I-I just wanted-if it was safe, that maybe I could go to you…You said your wife could help."

"No, no it's no problem." Steve says hurriedly. "I'm glad you're safe now…"

"The place was invaded." Bucky mumbled lowly, still curled on the side of the couch facing Steve. Steve swallowed heavily and leaned forwards; his attention solely on the teen. "I heard shooting. I didn't know what was happening…then-then Rumlow came."

Steve guessed what happened before Bucky even opened his mouth.

"He tried to kill you?" Steve's growled dangerously.

Bucky nodded softly. "I don't know if he got to any of the others. He only hurt me a little when I was able to get away from his grip."

"How?"
"I jumped out a window."

Steve's face must have shown how worried he looked because Bucky quickly finished "It was only a short drop…kinda."

At Steve's horrified face, Bucky adds as a way to prove that it wasn't a big deal "Married clients have a habit of pushing me out a window if their spouses come back early. It's not the first window I've jumped out of and I doubt it'll be the last." Bucky tried to smile but he was too weak, he couldn't even kick off his shoes.

It doesn't make Steve feel any better at all but he bits his lip shut and silently helped untie Bucky's black shoes. "How old were you when they took you?" Steve questions quietly, so quietly that if Bucky didn't want to answer he could have.

But he does. "I don't really remember…" Bucky whispers wretchedly. It was as if this was his fault that he didn't know. "Maybe…eleven? Twelve?...clients are picky about ages and Rumlow would tend to lie about ours. Some days I was thirteen and others I was seventeen. To be honest…I can't remember my real age…Whenever I try to think of my past, it just is a blur. I know my parents are dead, I know I'm an only child, but they have taken the rest of my identity. All of my past, my real name, my life, my friends; it's like they've been scooped out of my memories and only my life now has replaced it."

Like it was a natural movement, Steve drops his hand to clutch at the back of Bucky's head; fingers tangling in the short, brown, unruly hair. Almost against his own will, Bucky finds himself relaxes at the comforting touch, for the brotherly hold that Steve has on him was unlike anything he had experience in far too many years. "Then I guess you'll just have to start making better memories." Steve said softly.

The front door slamming open and shut has both men jumping and soon Peggy's footsteps can be heard. "Good news Steve-" But before she can finish, her eyes fall on the bruised and beaten teen. There was a small pause that was broken by a slightly worried Steve.

"I take it this this Bucky?" Peggy said slowly, her gaze turning towards Steve.

"Yeah." Steve said. "He's staying with us for a while." The tone left little room for another option.

Peggy nodded and dropped her purse to the ground without hesitation. "What do you need me to do?" She asked Steve, complete faith in her husband's choice. If he trusted Bucky enough to stay here, she would follow his lead no matter what.

Peggy wasted no time to rush over and crouch down alongside of Steve; tenderly caressing her thumb so carefully over the cut on Bucky's face. "It's not too bad." Peggy's soothing voice put a relaxing emotion in the injured teen's face, instantly having him feel safer. "But I'd better put some antibacterial cream on it." She mumbled more to herself than anyone else in a motherly fashion.

Taking that as his cue, Steve pushed himself up to go and grab the fist-aid kit. Allowing his hand to gently squeeze Bucky's shoulder comfortingly, Steve left the room is a haste while his wife tended the teen.

"Does anywhere else hurt?" She questioned him; she used the tone her mother always did on her whenever Peggy came home with cuts and bruises from fighting with boys who were picking on the younger kids. It was a tone that never failed to make her feel safe and protected, and she hoped it did the same for Bucky.

Bucky hesitated a second, thinking of whether or not he should speak to her when with a small nod, he pointed to his left rib. "He kicked me here…I don't think it's broken but it hurts."

Peggy nodded and raised her hands over his shirt slowly. "May I pull it up to look?"

This took Bucky a longer time to respond without looking upset over the knowledge of someone touching him but eventually he nodded, although it seemed to take all of his will power to do so. The act made her heart clench in sadness and Peggy carefully raised the black ripped shirt up to examine his torso. She sucked in sharply at the array of discolorations and bumps that were around his stomach.

"It looks bad but it's mainly the rib." Bucky added quickly, misreading his worry over his pain and thinking that she was upset at him for being hurt.

Peggy, understanding what Bucky was thinking, quickly amended "Don't worry." She smiled softly, settling the shirt above his waist so she had a clear view of the injuries. "It'll be better again in a few days once it has time to heal properly."

Steve rushed back to the side of the sofa and keeled down to be eye level with the other two. Handing the kit to Peggy, she snapped it open and pulled out everything she needed.

"Did you save the others?" Bucky questioned hopefully. They were never allowed to converse with one another for fear of them rebelling but he still needed to know that they were all protected now.

Steve looked at his wife hopefully. Peggy nodded as she ever so carefully smoothed the antibacterial cream on his battered rib. "We don't have a clear number of all who were there but from the information we've gathered, we found all of them."

Bucky sighed in relief and settled back into the couch. The others were safe…they were alive…

Peggy looked over to Steve. Reaching over, she grabbed her husband's hand lovingly. Steve was the reason this nightmare was over. As much as she acted like she could handle any situation, losing Steve was not an option. She needed to let him do what he knows is right, no matter much she wanted to keep him safe. Peggy quickly grabbed her vibrating phone out of her pocket although her eyes never leave the teen's relieved face. Looking at caller ID, she moved up and away from Bucky. "Yes Thor?"

The words she heard next had any sense of happiness over this case being over leave. "He took Loki. He took my brother."

я не знаю, что делать- I don't know what to do

это больно- It hurts

*peaks through fingers nervously* Please don't hate me!

If you want to know, I won't kill anyone good in this story!