Bucky fidgeted as he looked out the window at the playground. Once again Stevie was about to get into a fight with a kid twice his size, and here he was, stuck in this classroom catching up on his homework. Bucky had missed the last couple days of school, staying home to take care of Steve, who'd been sick with yet another cold, which is why he was stuck indoors instead of helping his best friend. It was a good thing the school year was nearly over. He'd have plenty of time to help Stevie over the summer.

Finally, he was done. Time to get to Steve before the little punk was pounded into the pavement. Bucky hoped that his own clothes wouldn't get dirty or torn enough to be noticed. His mom hadn't been too happy at having to replace his good coat last month, and Rebecca had cried at seeing him with two black eyes and a bloody nose last week. As he rose to leave, the teacher, the formidable Miss Murgatroyd, called out his name.

Bucky winced. "James, just where do you think you're going?" she said in a rather disapproving tone.

"I gotta go help Stevie," Bucky said, glancing towards the window. If he was lucky, he'd get there before too much damage was done.

"Stop right there, young man," Miss Murgatroyd said. "You're not going anywhere until I've had a talk with you about this Steven situation.

Bucky gave her a puzzled look. He almost made a smart remark but Miss Murgatroyd was one of the mean teachers and he didn't need to be sent to the principal's office again.

"I've been wanting to have this conversation with you for quite some while," the teacher continued. "I'm not blind to what's been going on. This has gone on long enough. If no one else will do anything about you being dragged into these endless brawls, I will." she said, her tone becoming even more severe.

Bucky stared at her uncomprehendingly.

"Do you understand the concept of consequences, James?", she said.

"Yes," he said, hoping this conversation would be over in time for him to come to Steve's rescue.

"James, do you want to see Steven get into fights?" she asked.

"Um no," Bucky replied

"Then why do you keep enabling his behavior? If you want someone to stop doing something, constantly rewarding that behavior is not the way to go about it," she said.

"But, I'm his friend," Bucky said, trying to get her to understand.

"I know you think you're being a good friend to Steven, but sometimes not helping someone is really helping them, and helping them really isn't help," Miss Murgatroyd said.

Bucky looked baffled.

Bucky stared at her in shock. "Stevie's a good guy, he's just fighting bullies," Bucky said. "I'm responsible for him."

"Just why do you feel that you are responsible for Steven?" she asked, genuinely puzzled.

"I dunno," Bucky replied. "I've always been taking care of him".

"And what happens when you're not there, James?" she asked. "What happens when you're both young men? When you're at work, or busy when he picks a fight? Steven will never learn to change his behavior if you keep bailing him out, James," she said. "He needs to accept his limitations, the sooner, the better. You constantly jumping in and winning his fights for him will just postpone that day. You aren't helping him in the long term. Oh, and one more thing, who takes care of you?"

Stupid grownups, Bucky thought. What do they know about anything?

Miss Murgatroyd sighed heavily. "James, James," she said, shaking her head. "This is not a healthy friendship for you. You don't play with the other children anymore; you haven't made any other friends. All you do is constantly rescue Steven from situations he deliberately creates. Honestly, sometimes I think he enjoys watching you get hurt."

"But, but . . .," Bucky tried to explain just why he had to jump to Stevie's defense.

"But nothing James. I'm tired of seeing you coming into my classroom with black eyes and bloody noses because Steven Rogers can't keep his mouth shut." she snapped. "I'm going to have a meeting with your parents tonight to discuss this."

Just as Bucky was about to protest, the bell rang. He went back to his seat dreading his parents' reaction.