Grass stretched his arms above his head, thinking about how briskly a month had passed since he began living with Bucky. True, they hadn't genuinely talked. Bucky and Grass had grown closer, yes, but they hadn't learned much about each other. They didn't each other's favorite things, all their quirks, or what the more obscure traits were the other had. The two just didn't know how social interaction worked.

The greenish blonde peeked out the window by the front door. The day was sunny, which was becoming rarer as the days became shorter and colder. Grass rubbed his arms,imagining how it would feel to be outside while not covered in dirt. He hadn't gone outside since he first arrived at the apartment and for the most part hadn't cared much about it. Yet, Grass couldn't imagine it hurting anyone if he went outside for a minute or two.

The teen closed the book he had been reading and straggled over to the door on his hands. After he got the door open, he moved himself to sit on the doormat. The air was frigid but welcoming to the greyed kid, so much in fact that he couldn't help but smile. He snuck a glance at the sun and closed his eyes for a moment. A breeze tickled his shoulders, ruffling his tank top.

"Well, isn't it legless?", a gruff nasally voice jeered.

Grass' cursed under his breath and snapped open his eyes to see a gritty man with sagging jeans. Grass jumped to his hands, ready to defend himself in an instant, "What do you fucking want Al?" Al narrowed his eyes and bared his teeth, with razor embedded in his words he said, "I want the fucking money you owe me." Grass snorted and turned his face away, "I don't owe you fucking anything bastard."

The thickly built Al barreled forward and held Grass against the apartment door by his throat. Grass' breath caught in his throat, making him cough. The tattooed face elder leaned in closer, so he could whisper in Grass' ear, "You know you fucking owe me money man. You're just fucking lucky you're a legless brat or I'd've came after you already for stealing from the Silenced." With a jolt, Grass was dropped to the floor.

Al backed up, his hood shadowing his eyes. "I'll be back tomorrow now that I know where you are bitch.", he barked.

He stepped back.

Expect, he paused for a second.

Then he rammed his foot as hard as he could into Grass' stomach before taking his leave.

As soon as he was gone,Grass was racing back inside the apartment, clutching at his stomach. "F-fuck.", he tried to get out as he lugged himself into the bathroom. He drew himself up onto the bathroom counter and slammed his fist against the sink, after he saw himself in the mirror. He could already see the red outline of a hand around his neck.

Grass flinched as he slowly got off the sink and back to the floor.

His stomach was searing a bit from the kick.

His grey eyes darted everywhere in attempt to get his focus off the pain. Why the fuck was he hurting so bad? He could usually handle pain a lot better than this… Grass let himself lay on the bathroom floor for a bit, hoping the pain would lessen soon.

.

.

.

Grass settled himself on the couch almost an hour ago. The pain was gone, but a rigid ache had taken its place. Bruises had probably already set in place, but he didn't dare take a look at them.

The door opened and Bucky grunted to alert his presence. Grass didn't bother answering, keeping his gaze straight ahead. The out of character-ness caught Bucky's attention immediately, having become so used to the younger's cursing involved hello. It was in no way a surprise when Bucky narrowed in on the hand shaped bruise on his friend's neck. Instead of questioning Grass, Bucky instead marched right on into the kitchen to fetch some ice.

Bucky planted himself next to the teen right after and held the ice against the swollen injury. He stared at the side of Grass' face for five entire minutes before asking, "How and who?" Grass remained quiet.

Bucky repeated himself.

Grass curled in on himself as he whispered,"Just some asshole." Bucky removed the ice for a moment, the soldier he used to be stirring as he inquired further, " Why?" Grass sighed and crossed his arms, defending with," It's fucking nothing. Just some bastard from when I was on the damn street. He just got some fucking hits in." Bucky rolled his eyes, "Tell me everything."

"Hell no."

Silence.

Tension.

Then Bucky noted the outline of a dirt footprint on the teen's shirt. Bucky knew Grass wouldn't tell him unless he provoked him more. So, he jabbed Grass in the stomach with his hand. Grass screwed inward as his face pinched together, shouting "Fuck." Bucky cocking an eyebrow, Bucky asked him again, "How?"

Grass threw his hands in the air, "Fine, fucking fine! I'll tell you the damn story!" Bucky nodded and returned the ice back to Grass' neck. Pouting, Grass started with, "It was this ass named Al. He kicked me in the damn stomach, ok?" Bucky frowned and pushed the teen on his back and pulled his shirt up. Bucky clenched his fist in anger and pressed his hand against the purpling bruise carefully. Grass' jerked back in pain.

Bucky stood up and ran his hand through his hair, "Why'd he go after you?"

Grass looked at the floor, frowning. "Grass.",Bucky demanded. With a sigh, Grass finally began to explain, "I stole a few hundred from the ass, ok? I was hungry and it was hard to find food…" Grass peer other at Bucky and then continued," It was right fucking when I got on the street, around the time when clean up from that damn alien invasion happened. No one was throwing any fucking food away, so I had to get some fucking money." With a sudden rush of energy, Grass met Bucky's eyes," I wasn't gonna fucking take something from innocent people, so I stole from a fucking gang member!"

The brunette sighed, leaned forward, and rustled Grass' hair; leaving the ice, that he had been holding in his hand, on Grass' stomach before stepping back. "What gang?" Grass sat up with a start, "What the hell are you thinking!?" Bucky answered back blankly, "Taking care of things." Grass shook his head and knocking the ice off him, "Uh fuck no, you aren't doing fucking anything!" Bucky snorted, "I'm taking care of it."

The greenish blonde growled and threw the ice bag at Bucky while shouting, "Fuck no! I can take of it!" Bucky whipped his head back in Grass' direction, "You're not getting hurt again!" Grass threw a couch cushion this time, screaming, "No, fuck no! I'll deal with the damn bastard!" Bucky turned his back on Grass, causing an out cry of, "Damn it,Bucky! I'll take care of it! Just give me the damn time to!"

CRASH

Bucky's hand smashed through the apartment wall.

They both froze.

Time didn't move an inch and all you could hear was the deep breathing of Bucky calming down. Grass was watching him intensely with a deep frown. Bucky couldn't hear anything but his own heart beat. His real hand was becoming sweaty and he couldn't stop himself from biting down on his tounge. Grass was heaving quietly from his yelling.

Bucky was having a flashback.

He was stuck back in the 20's, was saving Steve from the local bullies, and dancing with dames in bars. Bucky was James Barnes again, signing up for the army, and falling off the train. Then he wasn't, he wasn't anyone.

Grass hopped off the couch and onto his hands. He wobbled over to Bucky and spoke to him, "Bucky?" he whispered. No reponse. Grass crept closer and reached for Bucky's arm. The greenish blonde pulled on his hoodie sleeve, bringing Bucky back to himself. The brunette jerked his arm away. It was with glassy eyes that Bucky murmured, "I'll let you handle it." Then he was gone, Bucky retreated back to his room.

.

.

.

It was two days since Bucky had withdrawn into himself and Grass didn't know what to do. Bucky ghosted through the day and was quiet as a mouse, avoiding Grass as much as possible. Grass didn't know what to do, his social skills were awful and his already crude personality didn't help. In the end, Grass settled that if he wanted to fix whatever he did wrong, that he would have to finish things with those assholes, the Silenced.

The next thing Grass decided on, was that he would go to Al directly. He knew where Al hung out,so he had a location. Plus, Grass had the free time while Bucky was gone to confront Al. That just left what he would do when he went to Al. Grass had been cut off guard last time though… Usually the greenish blonde could handle himself pretty well, or rather well enough to keep himself from getting too beat up until he could high tail it. It's just that Grass didn't have any offense.

Something from one of his books popped up in Grass' head.

The teen smirked and grabbed all his books, spreading them out on the table. He grabbed a nearby paper towel and pen, getting to work. Grass could make his own offense and thanks to a mention in one of his books, he had a great idea where to start.