Steve goes to the bathroom and pulls up his sleeve. Bucky had grabbed right over a large portion of rash. No one really questions why he wears long sleeves most of the time. They assume it's because of the bruises from Howard's tests. Or the giant burn scar from Mrs. Schmidt. And that's true… but lately it's been to cover up the ever changing and shifting skin issues he's been developing. It's always red or irritated. He'd woken up a day ago scratching at it and it bugged him the rest of the day.

Bucky grabbing it had hurt. But what Bucky had said today also hurt. Maybe the reason he's friends with them is because of Tony. Maybe if they'd never been in that group they wouldn't have become friends… Even Scott had insinuated it was weird that they were friends with him.

Steve tries to think of something that would make people want to be friends with him. Just him.

He stares at his sallow skeletal face, with deep circles around his eyes and hair that seemed to be losing color by the day. Definitely not for looks.

He's fine in school. Not crazy smart like Tony, or good at sports like Clint and Bucky.

He can't fight or dance like Natasha.

He does have art. He's good at that. But… No one's ever wanted to be his friend because of that. He usually just gets made fun of.

He clenches his teeth and tries to ignore the way his heart aches at the thought.

Well… he had been thinking that stepping back from being friends with them would be the best choice. So… maybe this works.

He washes his hands and exits the bathroom, walking out the school doors and out to the subway.

—-

He's almost home when he gets a text. He looks at his phone and it's Howard.

H: You still coming today?

S: Yeah. 6 p.m. okay?

H: I'll be here. Can you bring Bucky's phone? Or Bring Bucky with you? Tony said it needed a software update. I'd rather do it here than over the internet

Steve groans, but he texts back:

S: yeah, I'll bring it.

H: Thanks, see you then

—

He knocks gently on Bucky's door and Mrs. Barnes opens it.

"Steve! How are you?"

"I'm fine, is Bucky around?"

"I think I heard him get home and go up to the roof. Trying to enjoy that weather while he can I assume!"

"Okay thanks, Mr. Stark wants to update his phone."

"No problem, you can go find him."

Steve nods and she lets him in.

He walks quietly out into the backyard and climbs on the fire escape. Howard had paid to have it replaced after he'd climbed up on it on Steve's 16th birthday and had deemed it more of a hazard than an actual fire. He even replaced the one at Steve's house 'just because'.

Now instead of the usual squeaks and groans it's silent as he climbs. His weight barely even registers on the steps.

He can hear music softly playing. And something about it makes him hesitate.

He reaches the top and peers over the edge of the brick.

He freezes.

His eyes try to process the fact that Bucky is holding Natasha tightly and kissing her, her hand up his shirt. Steve immediately drops down, crouching back, eyes wide and mind racing.

He scrambles back down as quietly as he can, Bucky's phone forgotten, and even though he knows it's rude, he slips out the front door without saying goodbye to Mrs. Barnes.

He walks quickly, trying to ignore the thought that keeps trying to shove it's way on.

Not that they'd kept it from him. That's… that's fine. It's their business. He knows what it's like to not tell people stuff.

But…

Maybe Bucky had said that stuff to him today to get him to go away. Maybe he didn't want Steve around as much because he wanted more alone time with Natasha.

That's…

Steve breathes deeply and ignores the way his chest is tight.

That's fine too.

Steve blinks blindly as his feet carry him further away from Bucky's. From his own home.

—

Bucky lays in Natasha's lap, eyes closed as she brushes fingers through his hair. She presses a kiss to his nose and he smiles.

"We should go." She says, "let's pick up Steve, get dinner and bring some to Clint. We can have some fun together. It's been too long."

Bucky nods, and they climb down. They walk through the house, it's quiet, but Bucky can hear his mom upstairs humming and folding laundry like she always does on Monday nights.

His dad and sister are at some event at church, so they walk out the front door and head to her home.

Natasha unlocks the door and they walk in. Some kids are sitting in the living room, doing homework and playing, and they can hear Sam and Sarah arguing lightly in the kitchen.

"I'm telling you, Sarah, like I tell you every time, it's too spicy!"

"It's not spicy at all!"

"Sarah. Need I remind you about the range of ages we have in this house."

"They need to experience all the different foods and flavors!"

"Yeah, and I want them to be alive to do so. Tone it down."

Sarah rolls her eyes and starts adding cream to the giant crock pot.

Sam looks up and smiles, "hey guys, how was school?"

"Boring." Bucky says truthfully.

"Fine." Natasha says with a shrug, "you seen Steve?"

Sam thinks, "no actually. But I was out this afternoon. One of the kids had a dentist appointment. Sarah, you see him?"

"No, but doesn't he have his thing with Howard today?" She points to the calendar that Sam has pinned high on the wall.

Bucky watches as Sam winces, "oh yeah."

"He's started going back to Howard?" Natasha asks, eyes widening, "since when?"

Sam looks at the calendar, "not very long."

"Oh."

Bucky stares at the calendar and Natasha nudges him. "Guess we can go tomorrow."

'Go where?" Sam asks.

"We were going to try to take Steve to Clint's work and cheer him up. Apparently Bucky doesn't like when other people can make Steve laugh."

Sam perks up, "Steve laughed?"

Bucky huffs and points at Sam, "see! It's a big deal! Sam knows it's a big deal!

Natasha rolls her eyes, "exactly! Which is why we should be bringing everyone who can manage it into the fold, not acting like a jealous little boy and pushing them away."

Bucky groans as Sam looks at them in confusion, "huh?"

"Some kid made Steve laugh today and Bucky got the green-eyed monster syndrome about it."

"Ah." Sam says, nodding, "I get it man. First time you made Steve laugh after the dumpster incident? I'll admit, I was jealous it hadn't been me. I've always been known for my comedic chops."

Sarah snorts and Sam looks affronted, "What!?"

"Oh nothin', sir. Didn't realize I was in a parallel universe."

"What! I am funny!"

"Sure, Sammy. Sure."

Bucky and Natasha slip out the door as they continue to argue good-naturedly.

—-

Steve walks without really aiming until he blinks up at his ma's gravestone.

He wasn't allowed when Mrs. Schmidt was in the house. He didn't have the subway fare back then and it was too far to walk without her getting suspicious. So he hadn't seen it since her funeral.

Then, when Sam had taken over. It had taken him a few months to work up the courage.

"Hey… uh… Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"I was wondering… If not it's okay. I was just wondering if I could get some extra subway fare this week?"

"Oh ho ho, you got a hot date you wanna see?"

Steve had laughed. Even though he was 15 he still had barely looked at a girl like that let alone gotten the courage to ask one out.

"No, just… I was wanting to go somewhere."

Sam had paused. "I mean, I'm probably gunna say yes. But.. I feel like as the guardian, I gotta know where."

Steve had looked down at his shoes, "just a church closer to the wharf."

Sam had stopped and looked at Steve, trying to guess, "any particular reason?"

"To see my ma's grave." He'd whispered.

Hands grabbed at his chin and lifted it up, so he could meet Sam's eyes. "Steve, buddy, why didn't you just start with that? Of course you can. Anytime. Any. Time."

Steve's throat had constricted and he'd felt his nose burn as his eyes watered.

Sam crushed him into a hug. "When was the last time you went to see it?"

"The funeral. I wasn't allowed."

"That—-" Sam starts, then stops. Catching himself. "That was wrong of her, Steve. Wrong as hell."

Steve had just nodded. And he'd found extra money on his card enough for multiple trips each month after that.

He goes often.

But he hasn't been since his latest diagnosis.

He just stands there, looking at the granite stone of the person who loved him before and more than anyone else.

And a tiny part of him is glad she's not here to witness the mess he's become.

—-

Clint watches Steve stare at his mom's grave.

He'd seen him in the subway on his way to work, but something about the blank look on Steve's face had made Clint nervous. So he'd called work telling them he'd be late.

He's quietly shadowed Steve on the way here. One of Clint's talents is fading into the background. So he'd utilized that as Steve had sat on the hard plastic chairs of the subway car, staring out the window as the concrete walls of the tunnels flashed past.

The walk here had been short and Clint knew Steve visited his mom's grave sometimes but he'd never seen it himself.

A tiny stone, a smaller inscription:

Sarah Rogers

A loving wife and mother

Caretaker of All

Something smaller that he can't read from this distance is underneath. He assumes it's a date or a verse.

Eventually Steve steps away, pushing his glasses away to wipe at his face as he starts walking.

It's apparent to Clint that Steve has a destination in mind. So Clint decides he's going to follow. He calls his job. "I'm really sorry, but I can't come in tonight. Is there someone who can cover?"

His manager pauses on the phone, "you never miss a shift, Clint. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah Phil, I'm fine. Just… something with one of my friends. Is that okay?"

"Of course. We'll be fine. Help your friend."

"I'll try."

—

Natasha helps Yelena and Wanda and Pietro with their homework after Bucky walks back home.

She tries to focus on her own but she can't seem to get a certain pair of eyes and lips off her brain.

"You're blushing." Yelena says flatly.

"Huh?"

"You. You're blushing. Why?"

"I am not."

"Your cheeks are red. Are you sick?"

"No!"

"Then you're blushing."

"Oooooo." Wanda says with a conspiratorial laugh, "who is it?"

"No one. You guys have your heads filled with all that boy crap." Pietro snorts and Natasha takes that as an affirmative.

"Says you ms. Red Cheeks over here." Yelena tosses back.

"Shut up and do your history."

Yelena and Wanda giggle and go back to work. Natasha rolls over onto her back and smiles.

—-

Steve doesn't necessarily mean to walk here.

But as he stares at it. He thinks that maybe he did.

—-

Clint walks significantly behind Steve. It's a far walk and after a while he wonders why Steve didn't take the subway. He notices that Steve starts to get tired. Taking a puff from his inhaler and limping on his weaker side. The hip the brothers had broken.

He's almost about to go confront the kid when Steve turns left into an alley and Clint stops, suddenly knowing where he is.

He feels sick.

He drops back, leaning against the brick wall of Reynold's Market.

—-

It's the same one.

Steve idly wonders if some of his blood still sits at the bottom of the dumpster. Or maybe shards from his glasses.

He's come back here twice before. Each a year apart. The anniversary of the day he was put in there.

Bucky, Clint, Natasha, and Tony always make sure he's busy and distracted on the anniversary of the day he was found. That day in July 2 years ago.

But they don't realize that that's not the worst day.

The day he was found was the good day.

It was the day he'd been tossed in there. Bag after bag tossed on top until he'd practically suffocated. He felt woozy and queasy from blood loss. The day when he couldn't decide if the broken bones in his face, his hip, or the jagged cuts on his back hurt the worst.

That was the bad day. And they didn't know he came here. They'd probably be mad at him if they knew. But they didn't and he intended to keep it that way.

He'd just been here a couple weeks ago… But here he was again.

He pretends it's an accident that he walked here.

Not because they just got caught.

Not because he'll have to see them again.

Stare at them and tell a whole audience about some of the worst days of his life.

Sentence them to an entire life in prison when he'll die before he's even lived.

No. It's just a coincidence he walked here.

And he stands there. Staring at the thing that had almost been his grave.

—-

Clint waits.

It doesn't take long.

Steve steps out of the alley nonchalantly. As if he hadn't just stared, at the place he'd almost died, for 15 minutes.

He turns left and heads towards the subway.

Clint follows.

—

Steve turns around on the subway. He looks left and right. Feeling like there are eyes on him.

But he doesn't see anyone looking his way.

He gets off one stop early and keeps his eyes out.

—-

Clint watches as Steve rings the doorbell to Tony's house. After he watches Jarvis let Steve in with a smile, he takes off. Anger and something like despair fueling his run.

—

Clint knocks on the door.

He tries to keep it from sounding like he's pounding on the door.

Sam opens it.

"Hey Clint, what's —- You okay?"

"No. I'm not."

Sam's eyebrows raise and he motions for him to come in. "You here for Natasha? She's in her room. Steve's at H—"

"The Starks. I know."

"Uh—"

"You wanna know how I know?" His voice gets a bit sharp at the edge and Sam frowns.

"I'm assuming you're going to tell me."

"Because I followed him there."

"Wh—"

"You wanna know where I followed him from?"

"Clint—"

"The dumpster, Sam." The man freezes, eyes going wide and somehow it makes Clint even more angry. "THE DUMPSTER, SAM! THE DUMPSTER THAT BUCKY AND I PULLED HIS BODY FROM. Why is Steve going there? WHY! What's going on! Something's happening and you need to tell us! Screw whatever privacy you think this gives Steve! He's went to his mom's grave and then to that damn dumpster—"

"Sam?"

Both of them turn towards the stairs where Peter stands, a homework sheet dangling in one hand and a pen in the other.

"Peter." Sam says in a strained voice, "hey buddy, what's up? You need help with homework?"

Clint winces at the kid's sharp eyes trained on them.

"Clint just said—"

"I was angry, Pete." Clint huffs out, waving a hand, "don't listen to me."

But Peter's face gets angry and he stomps down the stairs closing the gap. "No. No, I heard what you said about the dumpster."

"Pete—" Sam starts.

"You lied! You said he was sick back then, that he'd been in an accident!"

"He—" Sam starts.

"How did he get there?"

"It's not—" Clint tries.

"Don't lie!" The kid shouts. "You've already lied to me! Now tell me the truth!"

"The brothers." A new voice says. "It was the brothers, wasn't it?"

Wanda and Pietro stand quietly at the door to the living room.

Sam sighs and sinks down onto a step, dragging Peter with him. The kid tries to stay angry but Sam's face makes him soften and he just looks up with sad eyes. "The brothers put him into the dumpster?"

"Don't deny it." Wanda says. "We have phones."

It hits Clint what she means. They've seen the video. The one accusing Tony of hiring the brothers.

"How long have you guys known?" Sam asks tiredly.

"I knew something was off back then. I asked Steve and he wouldn't tell me. But I didn't officially know until the thing at Steve's school. Some kids at my school caught wind of it and it was shared with me." Pietro stands quietly behind her, a somber expression on his face.

The sigh that Sam lets out makes Clint's chest bloom with guilt. Steve had tried so hard to keep this from them and he'd blown it in one angry rant.

"He's not having the easiest time. So you can understand why he doesn't want to share all of that. Can we respect his wishes?"

"But…" Peter says softly, "Clint says he's going back to that place. Why would he do that?"

The pained looked in Sam's eyes takes Clint's breath away. Something is horribly wrong but Clint just doesn't know what it is.

"I don't know." Sam says with a strained smile, "but I'll talk to him, okay? You guys just do your best to cheer him up, okay?"

They nod quietly and Sam sends them back to finish their homework.

He looks at Clint and Clint grimaces. "Sorry. I didn't mean to announce it. But… I can't just sit here and ignore the fact that something else is going on."

Sam's eyes are tired as he looks at Clint. "Did Steve tell you they've asked him to testify at the trial of the Fleming brothers?"

"What!? No. No way. He can't."

"Clint, he's already said yes."

"NO." He seethes, "I don't want him within 100ft of that scum!"

Sam shakes his head. "It's his choice. And it's the right thing to do."

"Sam—"

"Clint. I have watched Steve now for over two years. I have seen what a strong and resilient kid he is. I know he can do this. I know he should do this. Not only to make sure they end up behind bars. But…" his voice trails off and he looks older than his age, "did you know we moved Steve to a different room for a few months after the dumpster thing?"

"What? No…"

"He accidentally woke the other kids up his second night back, freaking out, having a panic attack about still being in the dumpster." Clint's throat is dry, he stares in shock as Sam continues to speak. "He didn't want to tell anyone the truth about it. He was ashamed even though I told him there was nothing to be ashamed about. But… he still requested to move. So I told the kids he needed extra care after the accident and he slept in the guest bedroom near my room. I changed those bandages on his back for almost two months. I watched them heal and I watched Steve start to heal along with them." He scrubs his hand against his face and leans back against the step, "then... I get the call about the brothers. And I see the fear run right back into his eyes. He needs to face them. Put them behind bars and be done with them. I don't ever want to think of them out on the same streets as him ever again."

"When's the trial?"

"November 1st."

"Are we going to be allowed to be there?"

"I think you guys will be part of it. You interacted with them during it. So I would assume yes."

Clint feels his hands clench into fists. "Good. Because I have a lot to say."

Sam nods at him. "Good."

—

Howard hands him an ice pack and he accepts it numbly.

"Sorry."

"'S okay." Steve mumbles. The blooming bruise in the crook of his elbow keeps his eyes entranced. "How's Tony?"

Howard looks up, "I think you might talk to him more than I do."

"Hmm.." Steve says, "probably not lately."

"It's getting late, sir." Jarvis says, his head poking out of the elevator. "I should be getting Steve home."

"Right, right, right." Howard says, staring at the blood sample he'd taken.

"Howard?"

Steve watches as his eyes blink back to him. "Yeah?"

"How hard would it be to get my lenses adjusted?"

Howard steps closer, carefully removing Steve's glasses, "not hard, why?"

"Getting hard to see clearly."

The tense purse of Howard's lips makes Steve look down at his shoes.

"Let's test your eyes real quick. Then I'll get new prescriptions."

"Thanks. I'll tell Sam. He'll send mon—"

Steve." Howard snaps, accidentally cracking the frames he's holding. He looks down at the glasses and then back up at Steve. "I—"

Steve just shrugs, "it's fine. I'll be fine."

"I don't want Sam to send me money. I'm happy to repair these and ge your new pair."

"Mr. Stark." Steve says sharply, getting a surprised look from the man who he has called Howard since almost the first day. "I'm already your guinea pig. And I've been your charity case for two years. We have government funding now, thanks to you and Sam. We can pay for them."

"You're not a charity case, Steven." Howard says with annoyance in his tone, "But I wouldn't mind if you—"

Howard doesn't have a chance to finish because Steve gets nauseous, standing up and eyes wide as he looks for the best place to throw up. A trash can maybe.

But as he runs towards one, he trips over his own feet, joints aching as he slams against the cold lab floor.

"Steve!"

But he can't respond because his stomach rolls and suddenly he's vomiting onto his hands and the floor. Blood and acid come pouring out and he chokes out a gasp at the sharp spike of pain in his side and eyes.

Hands are on him, pulling him up and he pulls away. "Don't—" he chokes out. "I'm sorry. I'll clean it up—"

"Be quiet Steve." Howard snaps, "you'll do no such thing." Steve trembles, suddenly freezing cold and aching. Howard's looking at the throw up, almost studying it, as if he could get answers. When he looks up, his eyes widen and he wipes a thumb under Steve's eye.

It comes away bloody.

Steve feels his heart rate rise, "what—" he looks up at Howard, fear racing through him as he tries to wipe at his eyes with the clean parts of his forearms.

"Calm down." Howard says, although his voice sounds far from calm, "harsh vomiting, the strain from it can cause this. I'm sure that's what it is." He pauses and raises his voice, "OPAA?" Steve looks at him confused, but Howard just waits.

"Yes, Howie?" Says an automated voice. Steve feels his confusion rise, but Howard just rolls his eyes, and speaks.

"Can you alert Maria that we need a maid down here? Tell them to bring sanitization gear and that we're cleaning up bodily fluids."

Steve winces, and Howards hand rests on his shoulders with a soft squeeze.

"Yes, sir."

The voice shuts off and Howard sighs. "My newest gift from Tony. An AI he's been working on for a while. I had a few pointers, but he did great."

"Howie?"

Howard laughs, "that's Tony's sense of humor. I'm Howie and my wife is Mrs. Mom. You hear what I call it?"

"Uh, yeah.. Opah?"

"O.P.A.A." Howard sighs, with an amused smile. "Stands for "Old People's Automated Assistant."

Steve hears himself chuckle lightly at that, "That sounds like Tony."

He nods, "he's a goofball at heart that one."

"Sorry about the mess."

Steve, I swear on my life if I hear you apologize for something like this one more time, I will ban those words from being said in my house."

"Sorry." Steve whispers, out of habit, then he winces again.

"Come on, I have a shower down here. Let's get you cleaned up before I send you home. I'll go grab some of Tony's clothes."

Howard leaves him with a towel in the bathroom and Steve strips off his disgusting shirt and shimmies out of his jeans. He lets the hot water wash away all the remnants. Scrubbing harshly under his fingernails and rinsing out his mouth.

A gentle knock, then the door slides open a crack, clothes get set on the floor and the door shuts with a click.

Steve towel dries himself off and pulls on the soft clothes. A band t-shirt that hangs off him loosely and some old but extremely soft sweatpants.

He walks out to the mess having disappeared and Howard working at one of the machines.

"Tell Sam what happened okay? The eye thing too. It still looks red and I think you should go have a check up. I'm worried about the lining of your stomach and your esophagus."

Steve nods and Jarvis comes to collect him.

—

Bucky's walking into the kitchen, yawning and stretching his arms.

"Hey baby." His mom calls, working on her laptop at the kitchen table.

"Hey mom. I'm gonna head to bed. Just wanted some water." He goes to fill a glass and it's quiet for a moment.

"Oh, I forgot to ask, did you get your phone fixed?"

"Hmm?"

"Mr. Stark. Did he get it updated?"

"No…" Bucky says a bit confused how his mom even knows that, "not yet."

"Oh, okay, are you going to be okay at school tomorrow without it?"

"What do you mean?"

"You okay tomorrow without your phone?"

"What do you mean? I have my phone."

"Oh… But…" She looks puzzled, "Did he bring it back? I didn't see him come back."

"Mom, what are you even talking about right now?"

"Steve." She says in a huff, "Did Steve come and give you your phone back?"

"Steve… huh? What are you talking about? Steve never took my phone."

Now she looks annoyed at him, "Then I'm lost. He told me it needed to be updated."

"It does."

"But you still have it?"

"Yeah…"

"So why didn't Steve take it today?"

"Mom, what the—- I'm confused, Why would Steve take my phone?"

"Because he stopped by this afternoon to grab it!" She says, her hands resting on her hips.

"I never saw Steve this afternoon!"

"But I sent him up to the roof to find you!"

"The ro—" Bucky chokes, his voice cutting off. "When?"

"What?"

"What time."

His mom purses her lips, thinking… "I was doing the cold water wash… and the news was on… so it had to be between 4-4:30p.m."

His stomach drops like a rock. He slumps into a kitchen chair.

"James? What's wrong?"

Bucky looks up at her miserably,"You know how me and Nat have been… talking?"

She nods.

"I think he saw me and Nat."

His mom's eyes widen, "you had Natasha up there today? And you didn't tell me?" She asks, her voice rising.

"Yeah." He admits miserably. "We just kissed. I swear. I mean… we were kissing."

"James Buchanan Barnes."

"I know. But ma, I swear nothing else happened. But…"

"But what!"

"We haven't told the group yet."

"Oh…"

"Yeah," he groans, "oh…"

His mom raises an eyebrow at him. "You're grounded. For a week. And no more unsupervised rooftop dalliances."

"Mom—"

"That's final. I don't care that you're 17. It's our house. I'm glad you've told me now. But you could have just told me she was here. Then I could have known and felt included and not like you were trying to keep it a secret!"

"I know, I just—"

"Just nothing. It won't happen again."

"It won't."

"Good. Now what are you going to do about Steve?"

He groans, resting his head in his hands. "I don't even know."

"You need to talk to him."

"I know. Should I try now?"

She looks at the clock. "It's getting late. You could see if he's still awake."

Bucky nods and grabs his glass of water.

"Don't forget you're grounded." His mom calls after him. "I want you home by 3:45 tomorrow."

He nods and walks up to his room.

—

Steve feels his phone buzz. He sits up groggily. Slightly tangled in the large t-shirt of Tony's he finds what he thinks is one of the arm holes and snakes his hand out.

He clicks on the text and it opens the message, keyboard up, waiting for him to respond. But without his glasses and in the dark he can't read it. He can't zoom in either.

He feels a buzz and watches as another blue box appears. But he can't read that one either.

His tired and groggy mind tells him he can deal with whatever it is tomorrow. A third buzz goes ignored as he falls back into his 'like the dead' slumber.

—

Bucky sends a text

B: Hey, I heard you stopped by today. Sorry I missed you… I've been meaning to talk to you about something.

He waits a minute and the little thought bubble pops up to signal that Steve is typing.

He feels a breath of relief escape him and he sends a second text.

B: I'm grounded now haha but maybe you could stop by tomorrow after school? Even grounded I know my mom wouldn't turn down a visit from you. What do you say? I can fill you in tomorrow when you come by?

Bucky waits.

But the thought bubble disappears and no response comes through.

He texts one last time.

B: Steve?

No response.