I Would Never Love Him (A STONY High School Story)

A Bucky Past

Author's Note: ARE YOU READY?!

BECAUSE I DON'T THINK YOU ARE!

THE TABLES HAS TURNED, NO THEY WERE COMPLETELY FLIPPED!

It's Steve's POV XD and the past of Bucky

Could Be TRIGGERS SOMEONE IS INJURED.

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Steve's POV

I walked downstairs and walked into my living room. It was getting late already, but I wasn't tried. I was walking near a shelf where my mother has all our photos of our family or me with friends.

There was one that caught my eye. it was a picture of me and Bucky, when he was in the hospital, after the accident. I picked up the photo. Me and him were smiling, but I could tell Bucky was trying to hide his pain. His dream was crushed by one driver. I was sitting in bed with him, he had the covers over him and was in a hospital gown with my jacket on. He always complained about the hospital being cold all the time. So I brought him, mine. He hair was a bit longer than normal, but he grew to love having long hair. He had all these machines hooked up to him. I had my arm around him. I had a smile on my face, you could see little dark circles under my eyes. I didn't sleep until I knew he was okay.

I smiled at myself as I placed the picture back in its rightful place. I went to the couch and laid down trying to go to sleep.

But all I could think of was Bucky, my best friend, my one friend who couldn't play football. My mind went back to that unfortunate day.

Me and Bucky have been friends, since the beginning. With our mothers being friends,  we saw each other all the time. We connected instantly. In grade school, Bucky was always bigger than me. If anybody messed with me, Bucky was there. But I always held my own though. I got sick a lot though, but once again Bucky was there. He always took care of me, even when it was just a cold. Bucky was there, and I was thankful for that.

But when we went into middle school, everything changed. I changed a lot though. I stopped getting sick. And I actually gained muscles. I soon was a little bit taller and bigger then Bucky.  Which I think shocked Bucky a little, but we were still the same.

Until one day in November, Bucky and I were playing in the front yard of my mom's house. We were throwing a football back and forward. Bucky always wanted to play football in high school, so he wanted to get in as many practices as he could. I became better good myself.

"We should try kicking it," Bucky said, catching the ball.

"Sure, whatever you want to do," I said, shrugging my shoulders. Bucky held the football on the ground and faced towards the street.

"Try kicking," Bucky said. I smiled and ran up to the ball. I kicked it straight, landing it into the street.

"Wow, that was really good," Bucky said, as he stood up. I smiled.

"Thanks," I said, as I was walking to go get the ball.

"I'll go get it!" Bucky yelled, running out into the street. Bucky grabbed the ball and then we heard a car honk.

And before I knew it, the car hit Bucky. I scream came out of Bucky's mouth.

"Bucky!" I yelled, running to him. I kneel down beside him. the driver got out of the car and was next to me, calling 911. Bucky was gripping his left arm, blood was running for his arm.

"Hey, Bucky, it's okay," I whispered to him as he sobbed.

"It hurts! Stevie!" he yelled, sobbing.

"I know, I know, sh, you're okay," I whispered to him again. I moved a little closer to him. I picked his head up and placed it in my lap.

"You're okay," I whispered, brushing the hair out of his face. I wiped the tears from his face and eyes. Then my mom came running out.

"Oh my God, what happened?!" my mom yelled, sitting next to me.

"The football went into the street, and Bucky ran after it," I said, petting Bucky's head. Bucky cried harder.

"It hurts, make it stop!" he screamed, gripping onto his arm harder.

"I know, it hurts, Buck, just hang in there a little longer," I whispered, redrying his tears. After a few minutes, we heard an ambulance siren. I sighed in relieve.

"They're here, Bucky. It's okay," I said, brushing my fingers through his hair, knowing that would calm him. The people from the ambulance came rushing out and over to Bucky and me.

"Kid, we need to you move," they commanded. They took Bucky out of my lap.

"No, No, Stevie!" Bucky yelled. They placed him on the stretcher, and I ran back up to him.

"It's okay, Buck," I whispered to him. They loaded him up into the ambulance and let me ride with him. As they rushed us to the hospital.

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Bucky's arm was amputated and was replaced with a metal arm. The doctors said he couldn't play football. Bucky was crushed.

We found out that Dr. Arnim Zola was the man that hit Bucky. People said he was speeding down the street, and couldn't hit his brakes in time. That man ruined everything for Bucky. But I always stood by his side. He became a little meaner in high school, but I think he's been around Sam too much.

But metal arm or not, he's still my Bucky...

Then I fell asleep...

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