Bucky was not having a good day. Granted, his days are never black and white, good or bad. It's mostly a mix when his mind is aware enough to pay attention. But today takes the cake. First, he's got to deal with Natasha and Brucie trying to get all chummy with the piece of shit known as Stark. Second, Brucie is getting chummy with the piece of shit known as Stark. And third, that piece of shit Stark is getting chummy with his friends. He doesn't care if he's being childish or that the little voice in his head is chastising him that Stark is an actual child. The kid is in his junior year and he's only fifteen. Smartass. 

     Bucky took a deep breath and clenched his human fingers. He had to calm down. His face remained its usual stoic mask, but his heart was beating in his ears and air rushed out of his nose. He was scaring the other students. That he really didn't care about; they shouldn't be worried about him. He shook his head and continued to the garbage in the canteen. He pulled his features into a blank mask and left the bustling crowd of students. The warning bell rang and Bucky trudged to chemistry. He wasn't in the right mindset for messing with highly flammable liquids above an open flame and it showed. Numerous times Steve had to redirect his hands or outright take the beaker away from him. Bucky merely blinked owlishly at him. 

     Steve set down the beaker harder than needed. The glass almost cracked in his strong grasp. He shook Bucky's shoulder roughly. His fingers imprinted on the football jacket they both wore. "What's going on, Buck? Do you need to go to the nurse?"

     He hated making Steve worry. It was the one thing he tried to avoid daily. If Steve started playing mother hen, then Bucky would be fawned over until he couldn't breathe. He wasn't in the headspace to deal with that today. Steve may be his best friend, but his worrying could get in the way of any progress throughout the day. Bucky sat straighter and drummed his metal fingers on the lab table. His brown eyes were hidden behind his hair when he looked away. "No. I'm fine, Stevie."

     "You don't seem-"

     "I said I'm fine," he snapped. Steve's hand left his shoulder as if he'd been burned. Bucky scowled slightly. "Leave it be." Steve drew his shoulders up and Bucky avoided the gaze of the baby blue eyes of his friend. He bit the inside of his cheek at the sight of Steve's pained expression and the slight trembling in his shoulders. Bucky sighed and stretched in his seat. His shoulders popped and Steve winced. "Sorry. My joints have been bothering me. Stupid thing is getting old or something." Bucky experimentally flexed his metal fingers and grimaced. 

     It wasn't a total lie. His joints were giving him grief, but it wasn't the reason he was so distracted. Bruce shouldn't be hanging around a delinquent like Stark, let alone trying to help him. He couldn't stop Nat (nor was he going to try) because she could do what she liked, but Bruce...it was different. Yes, he was nearly a grown man and could make his own decisions, but Bucky didn't want Stark to hurt him as Stark had obviously done to others in the past. What with him being a flippant playboy and an eternal jerk. Bruce was just too caring sometimes. And now Thor was probably wrapped into it too. 

     Bucky put his head in his hands and tuned out the rest of the class. Steve finished their lab in worried silence. His mouth opened and closed multiple times, and Bucky was concerned his dear friend wasn't getting enough air into his lungs. His blue eyes kept darting to Bucky while he brought the burner to a simmer and his bottom lip was caught between his teeth. Bucky scowled into his arm and turned away. Steve could fret over nothing for all he cared. He had bigger fish to fry right now. He felt a twinge of guilt at the thought. Steve was his closest friend; they'd bought an apartment together and lived in it during the school year, and they've known each other practically since birth. He was the first person he smiled at, and if Steve wasn't around he could rarely bring himself to turn his face muscles upward. Steve was his rock. Steve was forever. But Bucky had more friends now, more naive friends, and he had to protect them too. He couldn't wrap Steve into this no matter how much he knew his pseudo-brother would help. 

     That was why Bucky decided to sit out of gym class to watch Stark and give his joints a break. Stark was seated in his usual spot on the bleachers, and his homework was spread all around him in a tornado of papers. Bucky jogged over to Mrs. May and flexed his metal hand, forcing his face to reveal the pain he was in. She thinned her lips and jerked her head to the bleachers. He nodded mutely and rolled his shoulders. His feet tread on the metal steps near silently on his way to the top. He sat two rows back from Stark. Close enough to watch with piercing scrutiny but not draw too much attention to himself. Stark carried himself with a sort of practiced grace that had Bucky furrow his brows. Sometimes his hands would falter and a small gasp would leave his lips before he returned to work. Bucky's eyebrow twitched. He looked like he was in pain.

     Stark sighed and bit his lip. Bucky nearly cocked his head to the side but Stark was looking up at him with barely concealed surprise, and he had to control himself. His eyes narrowed on their own accord and Stark was shrinking on the metal bench with wide doe eyes. Bucky's eyes flicked over the boy in two seconds, and he kept track of every little movement and fidget Stark made. He looked uncomfortable and Bucky felt a bit of satisfaction at the thought. The genius gulped and set down his homework. Bucky brought his attention back to him when his jaw clicked. Stark squeaked and Bucky pursed his lips at the noise. His hand trembled as he pointed to Bucky's metal arm. Bucky scowled deeply and placed his flesh hand over it. 

     "Is your," Stark hesitated and Bucky frowned. "Are you alright?"

     "What's it to you?" Bucky almost winced at how heavy his accent was. He frowned at Stark, taking note of the way he leaned back slightly and his eyes darted around Bucky, never quite landing on him. Bucky knitted his brows at the nervousness radiating from the boy. 

     "I could help," he said finally, soft. "I'm good with my hands." Bucky screwed his face up and cursed his reaction. He should've kept his cool, but what Stark was suggesting was just like the playboy he was. It sickened him to think that Stark could get away with sleeping around and that he was expected to do it. It blew his ego out of proportion and made him think he could have anyone he wanted anytime he wanted. He pulled back his annoyance at the sight of Stark's red cheeks. "N-No! I'm not...I'm not hitting on you or anything. I just meant that I could, erm, help if your arm is-"

     Bucky leaned forward and snarled, "Stay out of my business, Stark. I don't want anything to have to do with you."

     Bucky closed his eyes and took a breath. He sneered at Tony hiding behind his math book. "Yeah, duh," Stark mumbled. "Uh, sorry for asking. I-I won't bother you again, Barnes." 

     Bucky grunted and leaned back against the bleachers. If Stark was going to rile him up this bad, he would've never sat out of class. Bucky bent his metal hand and scowled at the ache. He should get this checked out. Maybe Steve could take him to a doctor or wherever they needed to go to fix him. He could apologize with some ice cream and a walk in the park, maybe. Steve would like that, right? Bucky's eyes shot open at the sound of a sharp breath. It was just Stark, but something made him sit up.  

     Bucky shouted and tried to stop the kid from hitting his head on the metal benches, but he was seconds too late. Stark's tiny frame hit the bleachers with a sickening thud and his small body was twitching on the floor. Bucky raced down the two rows and reached for him before he stopped himself. What was he doing? He hated the kid. Tony looked like he was in pain, yet at peace at the same time. His limbs twitched on the cold metal before stilling. Bucky shook his head and pulled Tony's upper body onto the bleacher. His homework was strewn about and forgotten under Bucky's feet. 

     "Mrs. May!" he called over the din of voices. "May!" The woman turned on his second shout, thin lips turned down into a frown while her brown eyes looked him over. Bucky gripped the railing tightly. "Stark's passed out!"

     The gym fell into silence for a moment, then May was rushing over to the bleachers and asking the students if they had something sweet. A girl with mousey brown hair and square glasses ran back into the gym with a bent juice box and a chocolate bar. She had diabetes and had to keep her sugar up, but she could always buy more in the vending machine by the canteen. She was happy to help such a cutie like Stark. Bucky resisted the urge to roll his eyes. May gently shook Stark's shoulders and called his name softly. Stark's eyes fluttered open and he gazed blankly at the gymnasium's ceiling. Mrs. May helped him up slowly and he rubbed his head. 

     She gave Stark a knowing look that he shrank under. I told you so, rang clear in her eyes. "Here. You need to get some sugar." She helped him punch the straw through the juice box and he nibbled on the chocolate Bucky broke off for him. His pale fingers had hesitated before Bucky shoved the sweet into his hands. Stark mumbled a soft thanks before Mrs. May began examining him. "We have to take you to the nurse," she said. 

     Stark made his pale skin go considerably paler. He frantically shook his head, dropping the piece of chocolate to grasp her hand. "No," he stammered. "Uh, I'm fine, miss. I don't need the nurse." 

     Bucky watched the raw emotion in Stark's eyes until he couldn't stare any longer. He distracted himself by picking up the chocolate. Stark looked like he was on the verge of tears, but not a single droplet fell. Mrs. May told him to drink up and she brought him to his feet. "Take him to the nurse, James. I have to watch the class. And ask her for another juice box since Natalie so graciously gave us hers. You can stay with him or come back, but do so before the bell rings." She ripped the edge of Stark's homework and scrawled out a pass. Stark blinked tiredly and reached for his work. She gently guided his hand away and smoothed his hair. Bucky watched him lean into her touch. "I'll clean it up. If anyone asks why your work is ripped, tell them your dog bit it."

     He chuckled softly. "I don't have a dog, Mrs. May." 

     May smiled, but it didn't mask the sadness in her eyes. "I know," she whispered. "James, take him to the nurse."

     He nodded and stepped down the bleachers. Stark followed sluggishly behind and Bucky slowed down. His pale cheeks were regaining their color and short puffs of breath escaped his lips as they walked. Bucky caught Stark when he stumbled, placing them in an awkward position. Bucky kept his arm looped around the boy's waist and half-carried him to the nurse's office as quickly as possible. He held back a shiver when he placed him down on the cushioned green seat. Stark clung to him weakly before he flinched and dropped his hand like he was expecting to be hit. Bucky frowned slightly. He gazed up at Bucky from behind his eyelashes and Bucky swiftly turned on his heel. Now was not the time to start pitying the jerk. All he did was pass out. He was still a jerk. 

     Bucky schooled his face into his usual blank stare and approached the circulation desk. He peeked around and a woman with a messy bun and a white coat exited the door right beside him. She shook the water from her hands and her lowcut converse matched her jacket. All the white was contrasted with her plain black shirt and blue jeans that were baggy and came up over her waist. She looked like a hippie. Bucky waited until she noticed him instead of calling out. Her brown eyes locked onto him and she smiled. "Ah, hello. What can I do for you?" she lilted. 

     Bucky pointed over his shoulder. "He passed out," he deadpanned. 

     The nurse, Helen Cho, furrowed her brow and her eyes widened at the trembling boy. She turned on Bucky. She tilted her head, seeming to try and read him, before rushing over to Stark and speaking in low tones. "Uh, James, is it?" Bucky nodded. With his prosthetic, Bucky had usual checkups with the nurse. He wasn't surprised that she'd remembered. "Good. Can you tell me when he passed out?" She clicked a small cylindrical device and a light flashed on. She moved it in front of Stark's eyes.

     "Three minutes ago. It was gym class."

     "He overexerted himself?" She pocketed the device and helped Stark to his feet. "Come with me, please." Stark stumbled behind her and Bucky waited for a beat before following. She pushed open the door beside the desk with her hip and laid Stark down on the bed. 

     "No, he was sitting out of class." Bucky watched Dr. Cho grab a refrigerated juice box. "He already had one, and we gave him chocolate. Mrs. May seemed capable."

     Something indecipherable passed over the nurse's eyes before it was gone again. Bucky clasped his hands behind his back when she glanced at him. "Ah. Well, the worst that will happen is that he'll need to pee." Stark traded him empty juice box for the full one the nurse was pushing into his hands. His brown eyes were wide and deer-like while he turned it in his hands. " Don't drink that yet. Did he hit his head when he fainted? Hurt himself at all?"

     Bucky remembered the thud on the bleachers. "Yes. He might've hit his head."

     Dr. Cho felt around Stark's scalp while he idly sat there. His eyes sometimes landed on Bucky and darted away before Bucky could meet his gaze. Bucky focused on Dr. Cho and her careful hands. "Is there any pain, Mr. Stark?"

     Stark bristled on the bed. "No, miss. I told Mrs. May that I was fine, but she sent me here anyway. I'm fine."

     "If you were fine you wouldn't have fainted." Dr. Cho pulled out a white and black sphygmomanometer. She wrapped it around his bony arm tightly and squeezed the little pump. As the gauge barely lifted at her ministrations, her friendly demeanor turned worried. Stark looked between the gauge and the nurse. He winced at the low number. "75 mm Hg systolic pressure," she mumbled. "Drink that now. But...Mr. Stark, have you been eating lately? Balanced meals at normal intervals?"

     Bucky picked his head up at that. Was Stark eating? At first glance, he looked like his skeleton was seconds from bursting out. His cheeks were shallow and he was all-around tiny. Bucky brushed it off. Of course Stark was eating. He was small because he's fifteen. He could have something imported from...Italy if he was craving it. Stark was eating better than all of them. 

     And Stark nodded around the straw. Bucky was still surprised at the fact that he was right because Stark didn't look like he was eating balanced meals at normal intervals. He looked like he wasn't eating any meals at any intervals. Bucky raised an eyebrow, the only crack in his otherwise blank face. Stark leaned back against the bed on his forearms, a lazy smile gracing his lips as his eyes flicked to Bucky guiltily. "Oh, I eat. I definitely eat, Miss Cho. I'm Tony Stark. I could have the finest meal imported from Korea with the lift of my pinkie. I had some homemade paella from a rich businessman in Howard's contacts just last week. It was delicious. They sure know how to cook." He patted his flat stomach and tilted his head, smiling broadly at the woman. He winked. "I could get you some too if you'd like it."

     Bucky fought the urge to retch into the nearby rubbish bin. The kid was sickening. Flirting with a grown woman. Who did he think he was? Bucky glared at Stark as he spoke to Dr. Cho, who was resolutely ignoring the kid's advances as she tried to help him. Right, he's Tony Stark. Disgustingly rich and with an ego to match. He didn't care about anyone other than himself. Bucky turned away and strode out of the nurse's office without the juice box. Screw Natalie, wanting to help 'A cutie like Stark'. 

     This bad day was just finding ways to get worse. 

     All because of Tony, shitting, Stark.