Not Another Teen Fic...

Chapter Ten

Bucky

Bitterly biting wind rushed past him as he and Wade locked the bar. Dimly lit back alleys loomed in front of them. Each promising a different turn and twist upon the maze but only one path of the alleyway labyrinth would prove useful. Bucky sighed and pulled the scrap of leather he called a coat further around himself. It had once been something which may have provided some heat or something of use to him. Well that was over a year ago when Peter Quill gave it to him. Wade offers a small smile as he does the same. The two boys practically could've been brothers; joined at the hip if you could say that. Bucky would much prefer it like that, at least that way he wouldn't have to watch Wade walk into that sorry excuse for a care home. That place, which was probably Catholic by name or or at least sounded it, was actually far from it by nature. He hated every time he watched Wade go though those rusted iron gates. He wanted to help Wade with that: to give him a proper home. He made a promise on a Willow that he would never abandon anyone who needed him. No matter who. Now to most people a Willow is just a flower; to those in the know it's the sadness flower. But to Bucky, well that flower will always be a symbol of his mother, who was never two foot away from one before she died. And therefore it was a solemn promise.

"You should probably be in this this place with me you know." Wade mutters as the two of them walk to the care home.
"What living Hell? I'd rather non of us were in there Thanks." Bucky responds balancing on the curb as he walked.
"I'm serious." Wade responds laughing slightly at the other. His tone then goes serious. "Your Dad shouldn't be able to treat you like that. I got put in here when mine tried.. and yours has been doing it for years."
"No Wade. Yours took it too far."
"So slapping your kid around isn't too far? Stop making excuses for him!" Wade said sternly.
" 'm not Wade." Bucky responds not very convincingly.
"That's Mr Pool to you young man." Wade said authoritatively.
Bucky laughs despite knowing he shouldn't. "We can't use those names in public Wade." Bucky hissed as he composed himself again.
"Well I don't see anyone around." Wade linked arms with him. "Do you?"
Bucky smiled but kept the irritated tone of voice. "Still, you'll get us into trouble one of these days."
"It's my charm Jimmy." Wade grinned madly.
"Don't start with that." Bucky warned.

"I always hate this part." Bucky sighed as they reach the gates.
"Don't get cheesy on me now Barnes." Wade laughs hugging the other before walking towards the entrance. Bucky watched the flash of red on Wade till it had all but disappeared beyond what the amber streetlight allowed him to see.

He began walking back home. Well 'Home' wasn't really appropriate. Home was a place you were welcomed, no matter what. Home was somewhere you went if you had a bad day and they'd make it better... Home was happy, somewhere you could laugh. Somewhere you didn't have to pretend. He had a Home. Or at least as good a one as can be made in this town. He and Wade made it together in the forest. It was what they wanted to do when they were older. Live together. And maybe, just maybe if they met the right people they could come too. So far all they had was a treehouse they built a few years back. But it was more of a home than where he was going now ever would be.

He opened the door to the house with some hesitation and a low creek. The smell of cheap alcohol so hung about the place, James had half a mind that he could probably kick the squatter stench out. He had made his footsteps almost silent as he climbed the ruptured stairs straight to his room. He almost made it... almost.
"Джимми! (Jimmy!)" His father yelled from downstairs, he had probably woken the whole street up or at least the house.
Bucky sighed quietly and went downstairs; he's been spotted there was no denying that. "Да папа? (Yes Papa?)"
His father glared him up and down and he shifted nervously under it.
"What's this?" His father demands holding Howard's job form in front of him. He had switched to English. Oh God, he must be pissed.
"Its a Job application." He tells his Dad. As he silently prayed that that was the only thing his father had fished out of his bag. Bucky edged over to his Dad and snatched the paper away before trying to sneak backwards. His father grabbed hold of his right wrist and held it up.
"James!" His father snapped in a low growl. "Is this blood I can see on your knuckles?"
Bucky paled. "Not mine... just a mishap in art.. kid got cut with a craft knife, I helped."

That wasn't true, but at least his father believed him and sent him up to the room. In fact he got it at the bar. Now to say he hadn't given Steve another thought would be another lie. He had of course gotten the blood on his knuckles while braking up the fight at the bar. The other guy (you know, the one that was winning) tired to kick the body when Steve was already down. That wasn't fair. At Least he thinks that's why he stopped him. To be honest all he remembered was that Wade gave him a fiver.
"Gotta say I thought he'd go down with more of a fight." Wade had muttered as he handed him it. Yes they always bet on bar fights. That might be wrong but they never let them get out of hand.
"If it makes you feel better I wanted to have faith in him too." Bucky had responded after half cleaning Steve up.
"You like him don't you... like like him?"
"No... I can't, he'll get in trouble... I won't get him in trouble." Bucky frowned quickly.
"But you do?"
Bucky didn't respond but by then Wade didn't need him to.