Steve's POV

"Give that back!" I hissed at the bullies. I had been borrowing in this human's room for three hours and had finally found food... which these guys decided to take. "Why don't you make us?" Sneered one, the other one nodded with a smirk. I launched myself at the one holding my bag, trying to knock him down. He sidestepped me and punched me in the gut, knocking the wind out of me and leaving me helpless on the ground. They continued to punch and kick me until they heard the key to the front door being unlocked.

"Let's get out of here!" Said the first one, scrambling to get away. "What about him?" Asked the second one, somewhat concerned about me. "Leave him," answered the first one. "The human will take care of him." He added evilly, I shuddered. I knew the kind of care my kind got from humans. At best it would be a quick, painless death, being crushed. At worst, a slow, living death, shoved in a jar and kept as a pet. I crawled over to my hook only to find the bullies had taken it with them. "Jerks." I muttered, if just to say something. Then the human came in.

Bucky's POV

As I walked into my room I heard a small voice speaking. "Jerks." It said, I was startled. I looked towards my nightstand, where the voice had come from. Imagine my surprise when I saw a tiny person lying there, looking both sick and beat up. He looked up at me in fear as I reached down for him. "NO!" He yelled as he tried to crawl away, my fingers wrapped around him gently. "LET ME GO!" He yelled at me, more angry than scared at the moment. "Take it easy," I told him softly as I raised him closer to my face.

"I'm trying to help you." I added, he didn't appear to hear me. "L-LET M-ME-" he started coughing and hyperventilating, his tiny chest rising and falling far too fast. He beat at my hand as hard as he could. "L-LET M-ME G-Go!" He yelled once more before fainting. "Poor little guy," I said to myself. "Guess the stress was too much for him. Better take care of him till he wakes up."

I carried him with me as I opened my chest of drawers, looking for something suitable to wrap him in. I found two handkerchiefs, perfect size blankets for the little guy. I wrapped him up as gently as I could manage, even making the blanket cover part of his head like a hood. Then I looked for a good, safe place for him, where he would be warm and in my sight. For lack of a better place I gently slipped him into my shirt's chest pocket.

I went about my housework for about thirty minutes before I felt him stirring. "Hmm? W-where am I?" I heard his tiny voice ask in surprise. I looked down and watched as his tiny head popped out of my pocket, he blinked a few times to get his eyes used to the light, then he looked up at me. "P-please let me go sir!" He begged in fear. "I'll leave and never come back! I promise!" "Hey, calm down." I told him in worry.

"I'm not going to hurt you or keep you here. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. Here," I added as an afterthought. "Let's get you some water." I grabbed a small cup, well, small to me, it was still taller then the little guy in my pocket. I set the glass of water on the counter and gently pulled him out of my pocket. I lifted him up to the top so he could drink. He glared up at me suspiciously before hesitantly taking a sip from the glass.

"Now," I told him. "I have a few questions for you." His eyes widened in fear as he tried to backpedal away from me, hard to do, because he was standing on my hand. He tripped and fell onto his back. "You ok?" I asked him in concern, he glared at me. "It doesn't matter," he snapped. "Does it? What are you gonna do with me?" My eyes widened in surprise, I hadn't wanted to be intimidating. "Nothing," I blurted in shock. "I'm just curious. You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to. I'll just give you some food and you can go home. I'm sure you've got a family to get back to."

He teared up and muttered. "Not anymore, ma died last month." "Oh," I said sadly. "I lost my mother too." He looked up at me in surprise. "Do you have any friends?" I asked hesitantly. "...No." He said after a few minutes. "Me either." I told him sadly. "You do now." He said shakily. "Really?" I asked in surprise. "Yeah," He told me. "The names Steve Rogers. You?" I laughed. "James Buchanan Barnes, but please, call me Bucky."