I'm so sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. It was a hard one to write and I just couldn't get it right, but I think I've finally got it. This chapter doesn't switch between time or characters at all. It's just all just Bucky's perspective as he tries to get help for Steve. If anyone of you were wondering, I found a song that went well with the emotions of this chapter as I wrote it. It's called "Pieces" by Red. An emotional and great song.

Again, I don't have a medical degree. I've done my research and there really wasn't a lot of medical interventions or technology in the 1920s/1930s. I tried to be correct or vague enough to be close to right.

I hope that this chapter was worth the wait. I'd love to hear what you think of it!

Chapter Six

Bucky headed toward the bus stop down the block. Steve shivered and moaned. Bucky pulled the thin blanket around him more, making it so he didn't get cold. More foam formed at the corner of Steve's mouth. He didn't have time to wipe it away. The cold bit at him as he ran to the bus stop. Two stiffly dressed business men adjusted their jackets to keep out the brisk breeze while an old woman sat on the bench and glanced over at Bucky. Even though Steve wasn't heavy, carrying him weighed his arms down and made them ache. He plopped down on the bench to wait, praying the bus came soon. The old woman shifted away from him a little. Stupid.

Steve's eyes opened a fraction. "Where…?"

"I'm taking you to the hospital to see your mom. You're gonna be okay." Bucky's voice shook as he tried to reassure him.

He coughed and convulsed in Bucky's arms. Steve gasped, pressing a hand to his heart and weakly spit more pink foam from his mouth.

"Steve, you've gotta hold on."

"That lad needs to be at a hospital right away." The old woman had moved closer to Bucky. She procured a handkerchief from her pocket and handed it to him.

Bucky quickly wiped the foam off. "I can't wait for an ambulance. We're in a crappy neighborhood. We don't take priority for emergencies."

"We'll make sure the driver takes you directly to the hospital."

He had no idea how she was gonna do that. As if summoned, the bus stopped a second later. The two business men hurried on. The elderly woman waited behind Bucky, nudging him forward with her cane. The driver stared at them for a long moment. His hand remained on the rotating door handle.

"Kid, you can't bring him on here like –"

"If we don't get him to a hospital, he is gonna die! Die!" Bucky stood his ground. He adjusted his grip on Steve and carried him up the stairs. He dropped the bus fare into the slot.

Two nuns moved out of the way, giving Bucky a seat. Steve was unconscious, but his breathing had slowed and he wasn't about to give himself an asthma attack. He kept coughing though, soft coughs that produced more pink foam and saliva. Bucky lifted his head as the old woman finished climbing the stairs of the bus. He blinked and almost missed her take her purse and smack the guy's shoulder.

"How dare you! Drive to the hospital as quick as you can. I'll be reporting you for being an awful human being and make sure you are fired! If that boy dies, you'll get worse. Now drive!"

"Yes 'mam."

She smacked him one more time with her purse before taking a seat next to Bucky. The bus surged forward. Steve's eyes opened. The kid couldn't catch a break and just stay unconscious. He tried to move a little, but cried out without thinking. A few people on the bus moved away. The nuns appeared to be praying for him. Heaven knew that Steve needed those prayers more than a general needed war.

A few minutes later, the bus pulled up to the hospital. Bucky let out the breath he'd been holding. The elderly woman touched his arm as he stood up and tried to adjust his grip on Steve, so not to drop him.

"Good luck, boy. I hope your friend makes it. You're a good friend to him." Moisture pooled in her eyes. "I wish you the best."

"Thank you. But he's not just my friend. He's my brother."

Bucky almost stumbled down the stairs of the bus. His arms trembled. He stepped into the hospital and immediately regretted his choice of bringing Steve here. People coughed around him while others cried out in pain and a woman wept softly in the corner of the waiting area. Noise surrounded them. Steve coughed, but kept his eyes closed and reminded Bucky how dire the situation was. He didn't have a choice anymore. Bucky approached the nurse at the desk.

"Please, I need my friend needs to see a doctor," he said softly.

"You'll have to wait, I'm afraid." The nurse took a look at Steve and frowned as more of the pink foam appeared at the corners of his mouth. "I can find a doctor soon."

She started to turn away, but he got her attention. "Wait, can you find Sarah Rogers? This is her son. He needs help." Desperation seeped into his voice, but he didn't care anymore. Steve needed his mom. Saying her name might make a difference in seeing a doctor sooner. It was worth trying.

"I will try."

Bucky sat down in an empty chair and looked at Steve. "It's gonna be okay. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you."

He wanted Steve to smile and say that he was fine, even if he didn't feel fine. Bucky needed that lie to pass his lips. But instead, he stayed unconscious as wheezing came through his parted mouth. He wasn't okay. Bucky pulled him in closer, to protect him from the others in the hospital. No one was going to hurt him. A baby cried nearby. Louder and louder. A woman argued with a man about something, not caring that everyone could hear their conversation. Bucky squeezed his eyes tight. Steve was gonna be okay. He was gonna be okay.

"Bucky?" Sarah's voice made his eyes pop open.

"Sarah!"

She almost fell to the floor as she knelt in front of them, taking in the sight of her son. Steve's head rolled to the side. Sarah touched his hot head. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she took his pulse, studying the froth on Steve's face. Bucky opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn't. He couldn't save Steve. Sarah took her limp son into her arms and stood up. His head fell back, scaring Bucky slightly. Bucky stood too, no bothering to wipe his face. Sarah kissed his forehead and went down the hallway, not saying a word to Bucky. He tried to follow her, but a nurse put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him. He wasn't allowed. Bucky collapsed into a chair in the lobby as a man coming in the door shouted. He covered his face, letting himself cry.

It had been three hours. Bucky hadn't heard from Sarah on how Steve was. It was driving him crazy! He paced back and forth across the small waiting area. The rumbling in his stomach bugged him a little. He couldn't remember the last meal he'd had. He'd been too worried about Steve. The nurse at the desk tapped her pen on the counter, seemingly annoyed as Bucky turned and went the other direction. He glanced at the hallway where he'd last seen Steve. What were they doing to him? Bucky put his hands on the counter, getting the attention of the nurse.

"Before you ask, I can't tell you about a patient unless you are family. You'll have to wait for Sarah." Her tone softened. "I'm sorry, kid."

"I know. It's not your fault."

Bucky sat down on his chair again, pulling his knees to his chest. They'd had so much fun the day before Steve got sick. He'd been laughing and he got ketchup on his shirt from his hotdog. He'd been in a bit of a panic to get it clean, saying that Sarah didn't like when he ruined his shirts. Bucky had helped him clean it off with cold water. Then they'd gone back outside, laughing and talking. It had been such an awesome day. They only had so many. He'd always known that Steve wasn't going to live to be fifty years old, healthy and happy. The risks were too great. He wasn't a stupid kid. He knew that Steve had a shortened life because of his health.

The door to the hall opened and a nurse exited, but it wasn't Sarah. Bucky put his head on his knees and covered his face with his arms. Steve could be dying behind that door and he couldn't get to him. He wasn't going to sit here anymore. Bucky let the tears run down his face. He stood up and waited for the nurse at the desk to stare down at her paperwork and turn around.

Run.

Bucky's breath came in low gasps and everything seemed in slow motion. His shoe squeaked against the floor before he started running toward the door where he'd last seen Steve. The nurse yelled something, but the words were lost. His palms slammed against the door. Bucky shoved it open and tried to get his bearings. He couldn't see Steve. A doctor holding a clipboard frowned at him. His mouth moved, but Bucky didn't hear him.

Where was he?

Bucky opened the first door. The long ward was filled with beds, but he couldn't make out Steve's small form in any of the beds. He ran to the next door and opened it as two strong arms wrapped around his waist. Bucky tried to turn and kick.

"No, I'm not gonna leave him!" the desperate words echoed down the hall.

The doctor held tight to Bucky as he dug his fingernails into the man's arm. "Just calm down, kid."

"I have to save him."

The fight evaporated from him and fell to the cold floor. It took him a moment to realize the doctor was guiding him down. Bucky's head gently hit the floor with the doctor's hand behind it. The room was spinning.

"Where's Steve?"

The doctor turned to someone close to him. Bucky couldn't make out who it was. "Please, go get Sarah Rogers." He tried to shrug away from the stranger as the man touched his forehead. "Kid has a fever."

He must have been lying. Bucky didn't feel sick at all. He just needed to make sure that Steve was alive and to stay with him until he was okay. A moment later, a familiar face leaned over him. Sarah ran her fingers through his hair.

"Where's Steve?" Bucky repeated, finally feeling the strain in his throat.

"Oh Bucky." She paused and the silence threatened to rip Bucky's heart apart. "He's stable at the moment. I was just about to come see you. I can take care of him, Dr. Anderson. Thank you."

The doctor nodded and left them alone. Sarah helped Bucky sit up. Bucky didn't waste a moment. He wrapped his arms around her neck, hugging her tightly. She returned the embrace and rubbed his back.

"I'm sorry you had to wait for so long," she whispered. Sarah pulled back and got a good luck at his pale face. "You're sick too. Bucky…"

"I'm okay." He swallowed around the lump in his throat. "I need to see Steve."

Sarah pursed her lips as she thought. "Okay. Just for a few minutes. Then I'm calling your mom to take you home. As much as I know you want to be around Steve, and even if you got the sore throat from him, you can't be around him if you're sick. I'm sorry."

Bucky felt too awful to even nod. He let Sarah help him to his feet. She kept her arm around him as they moved down the hallway and to a different ward. It was a children's ward. The sight made Bucky's stomach turned. Some of the kids weren't as sick as Steve, at least outwardly. Most of them were sleeping, but a few were crying while nurses spoke softly to them. He didn't want to see this. In the corner by the windows, the only bed with four empty beds beside it had a small blond figure. Steve looked even smaller in the hospital bed. His hair stuck to his forehead from the relentless fever. His skin was deathly pale.

"He's better than when you brought him in. They gave him some medicine for his heart and it's a little more stable. Now we wait." Sarah guided him to the chair beside the bed. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Bucky grabbed Steve's hand, fumbling a little to find it in the folds of the blanket. "I'm right here."

He watched his best friend's chest rise and fall slowly. It proved he was still alive. There was a small hitch now and then, but he was breathing. Steve could fight this. He desperately wished that Steve would wake up and he could promise not to leave, but he didn't stir.

"Bucky, your mom is coming to get you."

"I can't leave him. I promised," he choked out.

Sarah knelt beside Bucky, putting her hand on top of the two boys' clasped hands. "I know. Steve knows too. As soon as he's on the mend, the hospital can send him home and you can come see him."

"What if he doesn't get better?"

The question hung in the air. Neither of them could answer it. Bucky's squeezed Steve's hand one more time. He didn't really remember walking out of the ward or back to the waiting room. Sarah stayed with him as they waited for his mom to come. Bucky found he couldn't focus. It was like he left a part of himself in that hospital bed. He couldn't be whole without him.

Bucky remained unfocused when his mom got there. She held him tight, but he couldn't return it. Sarah promised to call if anything changed and recommended Bucky get some fluids and rest. He probably had Steve's initial sore throat.

The entire drive home, Bucky didn't say anything. He didn't say anything as they walked into the apartment. Little Laura waited inside the door and ran up to him, but Bucky walked past without saying anything. He went right into his bedroom that he shared with his brother, Daniel. At least Daniel wasn't there. His mom followed him. She didn't ask him to talk about what happened as she grabbed his pajamas and made him change. His socks were damp inside his shoes. He didn't remember them getting wet anymore. Bucky felt his mom slide warm and dry socks over his wrinkled feet.

She brought him a glass of water and helped him take a few sips. He didn't complain when she tucked him under the blanket. By the glow of the lamp, Bucky watched her. She promised to come back check on him after she helped Laura with a snack and let him get some sleep.

"Mom?" he whispered.

His mom turned and after seeing his expression, she sat down on the edge of the bed. "I'm right here."

"Am I gonna lose him?"

"James, I'm not a doctor. I can't answer that." She ran her thumb across his cheek, catching the fallen tears.

"Is Steve gonna die?"

She kissed his forehead. "I don't know, baby. I don't know."