Hey, I'm sorry this one took me this long, but I didn't know how to grasp it. I had half of the story already written out, but it didn't work. Then some thunderstorms came and seeing my sister who's afraid of thunderstorms and gets very nervous when she hears a thunder, this idea came. The thoughts Bucky's having do not really vary from my own fears.

Uncomforted

Steve poured some milk into a cup and took it to Bucky who was sitting on Steve's dingy bed with his back against the wall, legs pulled up to his chest and eyes shut firmly. Steve joined him on the cot, held the cup with one hand and caressed Bucky's forearm gently. The latter didn't appear to notice Steve's gesture, but it was fine, Bucky could rarely react when he was paralysed by fear.

"Hey, it's fine, okay?" Steve murmured in a reassuring voice. "I'm here with you."

Bucky made no move or sound and Steve kept waiting patiently because he thought this was the least he could do for Bucky in exchange for the care with which Bucky treated his injuries every time Steve got into a fight. There weren't many occasions on which Bucky needed Steve; he kept saying otherwise but they both knew it wasn't true. When Steve could actually be helpful, it filled him with joy and satisfaction and he was really thrilled about it.

"I've got milk for you, or I could bring you anything, just tell me, okay?" Steve spoke again and smiled slightly as he looked at his best friend who was curled into a ball beside him.

In a distance, quite far away there was a bright lightning but it wasn't followed by thunder what was good, at least in Steve's opinion. Bucky hid his eyes behind his forearms to shield them from seeing any hint of the light. Steve placed the cup of milk on a table, climbed up onto the bed and wrapped his thin, short arms around his beloved as firmly and reassuringly as he could.

"It's far away, Bucky, nothing will get to you, I won't let it," Steve offered and leant his head on Bucky's shoulder. "I'll protect you, like every time."

It seemed ridiculous to Steve; he would never be able to protect Bucky because he was so helplessly useless compared to Bucky. But still he could protect his friend that time, because the only thing endangering Bucky was his own fear and Steve could try to help him fight it.

"I know," Bucky mumbled but he kept shaking.

Steve didn't remember the beginning of Bucky's fear of thunderstorms or the cause of it; it appeared to be given to him since he was born like his charms or talent for singing. He didn't know what to do; children usually fight their fears and even if they can't control them completely, they're able to live with them. But Bucky's terror was still the same if not worse; every time it was hot in the summer Bucky was nervous, because he knew the thunderstorm would come, sooner or later. Then when it started raining, the lightning flashed, thunder roared and he would curl into a ball and not talk for hours. Steve realised he was a burden all the time so he tried to be by his friend's side to let him know he's not ungrateful. He doubted Bucky would notice if he left though, he seemed to fall into shock once the storm started and he didn't calm down until at least hour after its end.

"Do you want me here?" Steve asked in case Bucky wanted to be alone. That was highly improbable, Bucky never showed any preferences. This time though, he nodded; it was barely perceptible and somebody else might even overlook it but to Steve it was almost a miracle. He pressed his body even closer to Bucky and he tried to hold him firmly enough to stop his friend from shaking. He kept whispering words of comfort to his friend's ear and he thought it might be alright when suddenly the storm got closer and they could hear thunders in distance. It was all very quiet and when Steve counted the time between lightning and thunder, it was many kilometres away.

"Shh, it's far. It won't come anywhere close to us, I promise, Bucky. Nothing will happen to us." Steve kept saying so many times, over and over and he no longer understood the meaning his words carried but he knew he couldn't stop saying them because they were important.

They sat there, cuddled one against another and they both prayed for the storm to end soon; Bucky because it frightened him and Steve because no matter how amazing it felt to be useful, he couldn't watch his friend seized by such turmoil. Bucky shuddered every time he heard a thunder and Steve grit his teeth when he saw each lightning, anticipating its inseparable companion to follow it.

"Steve?" Bucky murmured and raised his head, looking away from the window carefully in the process. His eyes were alert and kept running away from Steve's sight and back to him again.

"Yeah, I'm here," Steve responded as if Bucky could not notice him when their limbs were tangled and their heartbeats synced long ago.

"Can I... sleep here tonight?" the scared man asked sheepishly as if he was unsure if Steve would let him.

"Of course you can. You can stay here whenever you wish," the thinner youngster offered, his enthusiasm maybe a bit too obvious in his voice.

"Thank you," Bucky said in a shaky voice and buried his face on his forearms again. Steve held him and eventually he started drawing reassuring circles on Bucky's side, caressing every single line and curve of Bucky's body and humming some unintelligible tune. He recalled Bucky singing lullabies to him when he was ill or in pain and couldn't sleep and it made him smile. Bucky was his guardian angel and now he had a chance to be a one as well.

The flashes of light pierced the sky less and less frequently; thunders appeared scarcely until finally they ceased bellowing completely. Steve expected Bucky to let go of him, but Barnes clung to his body with fierce determination. Steve wasn't going to break the contact even though he felt very tired and sleepy. He thought it would be ungrateful to pull away now when Bucky needed him; he was sure Bucky had wanted to turn around and run away from him many times before and since he hadn't done it, Steve felt obliged to stay as well.

His eyelids felt heavy and he found himself losing concentration from time to time. Every time he woke up either with his head thrown back or leant against Bucky's shoulder. His friend didn't appear to notice it or let alone care about it. Steve knew he wouldn't stay awake much longer and it made him feel terrible; one time he could be there for Bucky but his body had to betray him just as it always did.

"Bucky, I... huh, I mean, are you alright? I'm really exhausted and..." he dared to say. Maybe Bucky was just in thoughts and didn't realise Steve was holding him.

Bucky only nodded and raised his head. He didn't look at Steve, but the smaller man had released his grip already and sat at Bucky's side. He resisted urge to stretch his body, he didn't want to make Bucky feel guilty but he was really sore.

"If you want something, just tell me, alright? I might fall asleep in the next moment so be quick," Steve told his friend and he put a reassuring hand on Bucky's shoulder. When he didn't receive a response for almost a minute, it worried him but he was too worn out to consider it more and since he intended to let Bucky sleep in the bed and he had to fetch some blankets to sleep on before he fell asleep.

When he did, he placed them on the ground close to the bed and he took off his shirt and trousers and put on a thick jumper instead. He came to Bucky for the last time and looked into his eyes.

"If anything happened, another storm came, you felt lonely, seriously anything, wake me up, okay?" Steve said softly.

"Okay," Bucky nodded and managed to smile a little.

"You're taking the bed," Steve pointed out the obvious. He anticipated fight, but no struggle came from Bucky's side.

"Okay," he just mumbled again.

"Buck, seriously, what is it?" Steve knelt down and took Bucky's hands into his. They felt cold and Steve had to put a lot of effort into ignoring it.

"I'm alright, go to sleep. I swear I'm fine," Bucky said and he ruffled Steve's hair to prove his words. Steve watched him with suspicions for some time before he gave up, lay down on his pile of blankets and soon enough he dozed off.

Bucky buried himself under a thin shaggy duvet, curled into a ball, lying on his left side and stared in front of himself. The darkness surrounding him was calming a soothing but he didn't trust it. He still saw sharp flashes in front of his eyes, burnt houses, damage and disasters. Among it all, there always was Steve's burnt body, one time blackened to ashes, the other only badly hurt, sometimes looking almost untouched but lifeless anyway. And a single thought on Bucky's mind. I haven't told him.

He had always been frightened of thunderstorms, he hated being powerless and there was literally nothing he could do to protect himself or others from such strong natural force. Being used to be Steve's guardian, he needed to feel like he was always in charge of things and nature simply was not an equal to him. It was Bucky's secret and he never told Steve about it because he was ashamed of it. He was sure Steve would understand he wasn't just being egoistic and cocky but really felt frightened of being unable to control his own life and the safety of his beloved, but he was judging himself too much for it to be a safe conversation topic. The worst fear the thunderstorm revived was not that he might die – not even that Steve might die because he worried about that almost every day – it was the fear of being helpless, trapped, tied up, unable to do anything but watch. He wasn't afraid of thunderstorms themselves, but they were a very intense demonstration of forces that were greater than Bucky's.

He stared into the room he knew so well, with the frail frame of Steve wrapped in many blankets in the middle of his field of vision. Bucky stared at the small man who believed he could help him in his fear. How childish and naïve that assumption was! Steve could do even less than Bucky himself and even though it sounded a bit harsh, it was the truth. Bucky knew that if the storm really came, neither of them would be able to do anything to divert it, stop it from killing either of them or lessen the impact of it. They would be just as vulnerable as toddlers.

Realisations of this usually made Bucky angry and hopeless but not that day; he was just frightened. The storm could have come any moment, break the house they stayed in, burn them, stop their hearts – especially Steve's not really efficient one – and he would die without telling Steve that he wasn't really afraid of thunderstorms and that he loved him.

There were some tiny things Bucky didn't tell Steve either not to hurt him, because they were unimportant or because they would trigger more questions, but that was okay because neither of them had any significance and even the best of friends were allowed to have little harmless secrets. But Bucky also hid important facts from Steve – he was worried that if he told him that he wasn't really afraid of the actual thunderstorms and that he was scared all the time that something he couldn't influence might happen, Steve would think he was paranoid. And maybe he was.¨

He didn't really consider telling Steve the truth about his feelings. It has been shaping in his mind for some time already but he was sure it was true now. He didn't only want long discussions or shared memories, hushed promises and happy laughter; he wanted that all but he wanted more and that frightened him. It was only another thing he couldn't influence and yet it happened – another proof that his fear was not unsound. He never wanted to fall in love with his best friend; there were so many people he could love and yet it had to be Steve whom he simply couldn't have. If it was only about him, he'd risk it. He'd give up everything for a kiss, a whispered love confession but he never could drag Steve into this because Steve would be unhappy.

The problem was that even if Steve loved him back as much as Bucky loved him, it would make him conflicted. He might say something else, but Bucky knew that Steve would be unable to be completely happy in secret. While Bucky would do anything for love, he knew Steve was less of a romantic – despite what they appeared to be, Steve was the reasonable one. It would trouble him and he would end up hating Bucky, slowly at first but passionately in the end for dragging him into something he didn't want.

Bucky realised that whatever the options were, he could not really think about them because of one detail – Steve was too innocent and pure for that. It would disappoint him, hurt him, break him even and Bucky could not let that happen.

He rolled on his other side and stared at the wall, trying to forget how pleasant it was to feel Steve's body wrapped around his own.