It was about 2:00 in the morning. Bucky quietly opened the door to him and Steve's shared apartment. Ever since his mum passed, he'd been willing to due whatever it took to take care of him, including comforting him from terrifying nightmares, which often triggered his asthma attacks if it got too severe.

This was one of those times. He had went to get Steve more of his medicine and came back to find him trembling and muttering inaudible words in his sleep.

"Steve!" He gently set his arm on his friend's thin one, shaking carefully, as if he were fragile, which he was. "Steve, wake up. It's just a dream..I'm here."

He heard Steve mutter a ,"Please, don't leave me! I'm sorry," before he jolted awake with a gasp. He took in quick, wheezing breaths as Bucky wrapped his arms around him. "It's okay, Steve.." He rubbed circles around his back. "Calm down..deep breaths."

Steve took in deep, but shaky breaths. The wheezing subsided after a moment.

Thank god, no asthma attack.

Steve collapsed into Bucky's arms and began to sob. He buried his head in his chest, his small, bony fingers gripping at his friend's shirt desperately, like a lifeline.

Bucky instinctively rested his hand on Steve's head, muttering reassurances, often repeating them over and over.

"You want to talk about it?" He asked softly. "It might make you feel better."

Steve pulled back and looked up at him for a moment. His eyes were filled with tears and it made Bucky's heart shatter just looking at him.

Steve swallowed roughly before nodding, turning to lean against Bucky's side.

He started describing the nightmare surprisingly vividly. The amount of details were immeasurable, and Bucky was surprised his friend even had the courage to include even some of the smallest, yet painful ones.

"They- they came and took you from me...you said you wanted to g-go. T-that you wanted to get away f-from me," Steve muttered.

Bucky shushed him, wrapping his arm around Steve's small frame and gently easing both of them down onto the bed. Steve began to sob again and he rolled over, his face buried in Bucky's side. He curled into a fetal position.

"Steve, no one is going to take me from you, I promise. And I'd never leave you. I'm with you til the end of the line, pal," Bucky pulled Steve closer to him, using his free arm to rest it on top of Steve's, which was laying across his chest.

"And if anyone wants to hurt you, they'll go through me first."

Steve blinked open his eyes, taking in the fuzzy world around him. Truth be told, he didn't feel any better than the night before. In fact, he felt worse.

Bucky was by his side in barely a second. He heard the heart monitor's beeping increase just slightly, as Bucky's appearance caught him off-guard, but it quickly decreased again.

"Hey, Steve," Bucky greeted softly. "How are you feeling?"

He groaned and shifted slightly so he could see Bucky more clearly. "Worse…" he murmured, blinking repeatedly to get rid of the black dots threatening to consume his vision.

Bucky's look turned to one of concern quite quickly. "I'm sure they'll find something to help you. They have to.." He muttered, looking away for a second.

"Hey, Buck..It's okay," Steve reassured. His voice was getting stronger, but the dizzy and nauseous feeling definitely worsened.

Bucky lowered himself into the cushioned chair, running his hands through his hair. "I know...I'm sorry, Steve..I just- "He sighed, unable to find the right words to describe what he was feeling at the moment. His emotions were so mixed up...piled upon one another. It was difficult to place.

"I know...It's okay," Steve replied quietly.

Bucky flashed a soft smile toward Steve. He fidgeted again with his metal hand while staring toward the ground. It was silent.

Bucky lowered himself into the chair next to Steve's possible death-bed. He didn't know whether his poor friend would die or not, but he'd come down with a serious illness that he was extremely vulnerable to due to his thin size.

He stared at Steve. He was laying under a heavy sheet on the hospital bed, his face pale. Too pale for his liking..

Bucky swallowed, then gently took Steve's fragile hand in his, rubbing it with his thumb. "Please wake up, Steve...I need a sign that you're okay…" He muttered, sighing in defeat when he didn't get an immediate response. He expected that, though. His friend was so badly sick, the doctors didn't know if or when he was going to wake up.

He remembered his friend collapsing to the floor the night before with great detail. It was about 8:00 PM, and he was displaying signs of pneumonia. Along with that came an asthma attack, which triggered even more coughing to the point that he couldn't breathe. Bucky had caught him when he had passed out and quickly rushed him to the hospital.

He sighed, then looked back at his friend's unconscious form. Still no response, not even the twitch of a finger.

"Please wake up.."

Bucky was so caught up in his memories, he hadn't noticed Steve's weak arm tugging at his own. He blinked multiple times before facing his friend, gently grabbing his hand and rubbing it over with his thumb like he had remembered doing when they were younger.

Steve threw him a soft smile. "Thanks...I remember how you used to do this when I got sick.."

Bucky gave an amused smile. "At least you aren't that skinny, little kid anymore. Though, I do miss him a little."

Steve coughed once. "I can still be that kid, maybe just a bit bigger."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "And stubborner."