Dutifully, he wrote the daydream in his notebook about meeting Natasha. He wondered if she remembered him or any of the goodness they shared briefly before their rude separation. Somewhere in his mind, he seriously doubted it, which made him feel a bit emptier.

He was hungry, but his clothes were still wet. No sense in putting on wet clothes just to go get soaked again in the rain that drummed lightly on the roof. It wasn't unusual for him to miss meals and it looked like he'd wait a bit longer. While he waited, however, he was determined to mine his brain for happier memories. Putting away the HYDRA notebook, he picked up the one he wrote 'Steve Rogers' on the cover.

A smile perked up his lips a bit as he relished a few shreds of the recent memories he did have of Steve. Maybe if I focus on his name, I will remember, he thought. Closing his eyes, he breathed in deeply and rhythmically, like HYDRA taught him to if he was undergoing torture to extract information. He could send his mind somewhere else while his body endured almost any physical pain.

Steve Rogers.

The man on the bridge.

His best friend.

Steve Rogers.

Hungry

Steve Rogers

Hungry.

Apple pie.

His eyes opened. Apple pie?

Bucky closed his eyes again and thought about apple pie and Steve Rogers.

Fall in the city was different than in the countryside. Instead of the smell of leaf rot, hay and pumpkins, there was the odor of pavement, sewers and the new fangled cars. Busy markets were filled with local produce of apples, squash, cabbages and the fresh livestock. Sarah had earned a few cents extra taking care of an elderly man in Manhattan after her shift at the hospital and saved it all for something she and, she knew the boys, would be craving: an apple pie.

Saturday morning found Sarah with her one day off giving instructions to the young men in her kitchen. "Now, you two trouble makers!" She ruffled the boy's hair affectionately, "Take this money and buy me some of the best apples you can find. About a dozen. No cuts and bruises. And NO tasting them early!" she admonished them gently placing the small change purse containing her earnings into Steve's tiny hands.

"Yes, ma'am." Steve said earnestly, wanting to please his mom the best he could. His dad had not been gone for very long and he felt an overwhelming desire to fill his shoes.

"Especially you, Barnes." Sarah Rogers gave a firm look at Bucky with her piercing blue eyes, who beamed back at his best friend's mother. "And I need about half a pound of sugar. I better get every ounce you buy. That will cost the most. Don't let that old chinwag of a spice dealer short you either just because you're a child. Watch him!"

"We won't let him." Barnes answered standing a head and almost shoulder taller than her Steve, while putting a protective arm around Roger's shoulders. Sarah had no doubt that James would make sure that spice dealer was honest, even if he was only ten.

The boys left the tenement for the market. Sarah watched them go as a tired sigh followed by a small wet cough filled the empty space. Looking ceiling ward, she thanked whatever luck she had that Steve had such a great friend.

Hitting the pavement, the boys pulled their coats a little closer. The first frost had come a few days ago lending the air a definite crispness. "So, Rogers, think we can sneak a tiny bite or a pinch of sugar?" Buck asked immediately once outside.

Steve looked up at Barnes, "Why do you always do that?"

"Do what?" Buck asked innocently, hand pressed to his chest in surprise.

"Ask if we can do the opposite of what we're told?" Steve replied, knowing full well Bucky was teasing.

"Because it bugs you. That's why." Bucky replied jovially.

"Great. My best friend is also the biggest jerk in the world. My luck." Rogers sighed, gripping the small change purse tighter in his pocket.

Bucky gave him a playful shove in the shoulder as they moved, catching the smaller, lighter Steve off balance. In the blink of an eye, Steve was cheek to chest of Sam, one of the nastier of neighborhood boys. Samuel Stern was twelve and had started growing a beard, it was said, at ten.

Bucky gasped in surprise at what he had done, reaching out to grab the back of Steve's coat to pull him away. Sam beat him to it and gave Steve a hard shove to the ground instead.

"Hey dumbass! Watch where you're going!" Sam growled as Rogers sprawled on the sidewalk in front of him, his bony backside smarting on the hard concrete below him. The change purse fell out his coat pocket and sat between them.

Sam's quick eye noticed it first. In a meaty fist, he scooped it up from the pavement, "What's this, little boy?" With a shake he heard the coins. "Gonna do some shoppin'? Maybe for a dress here for your girlfriend?" Sam made an ugly face at Bucky.

Steve's brow beetled into a fierce frown, "That's my mom's. Give it back you nimrod!"

Barnes was already taking inventory of his surroundings; Sam's entourage was not around, which was reassuring, but Sam was nothing to sneeze at either.

"Give it back, Stern. It's not yours." Bucky said in a low voice, helping Steve up from the ground.

"Oh how cute. Are you going to get a little something to match your blue eyes?" Sam sneered.

"How'bout I give you a black one?" Steve said and jumped at the coin purse. Stern was too tall and he missed, swinging at air.

At the same time, while Sam was distracted, his arm raised high above Steve's head, Bucky rushed a tackle to Stern's midriff just like a linebacker.

The taller, older boy took the hit, exhaling in a giant 'oof' sound and dropping the coin purse. Luckily the clasp held when it hit the ground or all the money would have spilled everywhere.

Steve was no slack and quickly snatched up the purse and ran, knowing Bucky would be close behind.

About a block away of panting breath, he realized Bucky wasn't behind him.

Skidding to a halt, he looked back down the street and saw Bucky getting punched in the face, knees buckling. Setting his jaw, Steve ran back to help his friend.

He grabbed a convenient garbage can lid on the way and whizzed it like a saucer at just the right moment before Sam slammed another fist into Bucky's face. The metal clanged off Stern's skull like a gong, disorienting him.

"Bucky! C'mon!" Steve threw himself underneath Barnes's arm and pulled him into a reluctant trot. Steve took a few corners and extra streets before he was sure Sam wasn't following or had his buddies around to finish them off.

Wheezing like a bellows, Steve shoved Barnes up against a rough brick wall in an alley not far from the market. Bending over as if to wretch, he saw stars as he fought for air against his tiny birdcage ribs. Rogers couldn't stand up as he felt his legs turn to mush.

"Steve…. You 'k?" Barnes looked concernedly at him through a swollen black eye and a very bloody nose.

Rogers lay there for a moment on the cobblestone alleyway just trying to breathe. Then the realization hit him: he saved Bucky. Steve, the little guy, saved Bucky from a beating.

Once the world stopped spinning from lack of oxygen, he sat up and looked at Barnes who was trying to cease the flow of blood from his nose onto his coat. "Here. Let me." Rogers pulled an ever present handkerchief from his pocket for his incessant colds and coughs. He pressed it to Bucky's face and tilted his friend's chin upward. "Those were some moves, eh Buck?"

"What moves?" Barnes said, looking at Rogers with his unswollen eye.

"That garbage pail lid. That was a classic. Pinged him right on the noggin. I saved your life, y'know." Steve preened a bit while monitoring the nose bleed.

"I had him on the ropes." Bucky replied sulkily.

"Right." Steve said sarcastically, "It was all your fault anyway."

"I know. But", Bucky paused, "I knew you would take him. No problem."

Steve glowed a bit in that praise from his more battle tested friend.

The nose bleed had almost stopped when they decided to finish what Sarah Rogers had asked them to complete. Still holding the handkerchief to his face, Bucky and Steve walked out of the alley to the market a few blocks away.

The apple seller threw in two extra apples for the price of twelve just because the boys told such a great story of why they looked the way they did. And Maurice, the talkative cheapskate spice seller even gave them a pinch of rock candy for their bravery. Turns out even he didn't like Sam Stern or his family either.

Walking back to the tenement, the boys agreed it was worth the accidental interaction with Sam for their spoils of war.

Bucky realized he was smiling broadly as he hunched in his sleeping bag, the memory giving him warmth of its own.

And that pie. It was the best pie he ever had because they both earned it.

Addendum- the Marvel Wiki has Steve Roger's father dying in WW1 before Steve is born. I did not know that before I wrote this, but just wanted to mention it for cannon's sake. 8belles