Chapter 1: Help, I'm Alive

I tremble; they're going to eat me alive.

If I stumble, they're going to eat me alive.

Can you hear my heart beating like a hammer?

Help, I'm alive, my heart keeps beating like a hammer.

Hard to be soft, tough to be tender.

STEVE

Like most questionable things start, this entire event began in the gym's locker rooms. It was unbearably humid. The mirrors were fogged. Things were starting to get tense among the growing crowd. Steve, shirtless and out of breath, was currently trying to reach his inhaler. His body strained, jumping from one foot to another reaching and grasping at air, his face turning red as the boys started to laugh at him.

"What's this, Stevie boy? Smoking kush behind Coach's back? Looks like we found your secret stash!" A few more of the team guffawed, throwing his inhaler back and forth, taking a sniff from the canister while wasting the chemical balance. The slight hiss of the air as it escaped the nozzle made Steve's own heart sink.

"I ain't rollin' no reefer, now give it back, Jackson!" Steve nearly huffed, feeling his lungs unable to expand at the strain it was taking. Though growing weary he persisted, nearly getting it in his last attempt.

"Little Steve ain't gonna share. How about we make him work for it?" The guy named Jackson nearly sneered, tossing it from one hand to another right in front of Steve's nose.

"You asked for it," Steve almost hissed swinging his fist, hitting Jackson square in the stomach. Sharp pain shot through his own arm and he winced stumbling back, hearing the roar of laughter hit him before Jackson's own fists enclosed Steve's shirt.

Things after that got momentarily fuzzy.

Blood dripped from his broken nose onto his white shirt, staining the cotton fibers. Injury wasn't uncommon coming from Steve, and as he applied ice to his head the nurse prattled on, pacing from her desk to her record cabinet. "This is your fourth fight this month, Rogers. If I didn't know you so well I'd think you were trying to get yourself killed. How many inhalers have they gone through this time? I can't keep refilling it for you. You've got to learn to keep out the way."

Steve wiped his mouth, staining his fingers red. "I don't like bullies, ma'am. It don't matter how many there are."

"Well they've certainly gained a fondness for you, haven't they?" She pursed her lips, flipping through his file idly when another figure nearly waltzed in, grabbing her attention. Steve sighed in relief, glad to have her gaze off him. The cots made him feel overbearingly small and shrinking against the crackling paper. They were meant for football players injured on the field, not would-be heroes.

Steve gave the new man little to no mind, distracted more by the ache of defeat than anything else. It wasn't until the figure began to speak did Steve finally look at him for the first time.

"Good afternoon, Nurse M." The man's voice was almost gravelly, but smooth, and easily accompanied with a smirk. The man's light eyes glinted slightly. "I see you've kept yourself busy since our last conversation." He was dressed in nearly all black, and the smell of smoke clung to his clothes desperately as if just finishing off a cigarette. It hit Steve briefly, making him feel both nauseated and enthralled at the same time. There was something captivating, the way the man scuffed his boots against the tile without realizing he did so as he leaned against the Nurse's desk. His words rolled off his tongue without a single hesitation as if he spent his whole time on stage spotlights. Steve suddenly felt a lot smaller in comparison.

It took a long moment for Steve to let go of the breath he had been holding, And not without consequence. Without fail he began to cough, closing his eyes momentarily as he gained back proper use of his lungs. When he opened them again he found the stranger's eyes on him. He looked away when the nurse began to speak to him again.

"Jesus Christ, James! How many times do I have to tell you that I cannot be your excuse to be out of class any more! This is getting out of hand! Don't tell me you've been in the smokers lounge again." Nurse M swatted away the stranger's hands as he reached for a lollipop out of her jar.

"Haven't you heard, Miss. M? All the cool kids are calling me Bucky now. It's a trend," Steve couldn't help himself; he kept staring at this Bucky. Confidence radiated off of him in waves, making Steve sit up straighter, subconsciously shifting his weight.

"Whatever your name is, go on and get before the principal walks in to take to our newest book case down to detention," She had lowered her voice, glancing towards Steve.

When Bucky glanced over Steve looked away, shifting again. It suddenly felt too hot in the small space.

"Whatever you say, Miss. M." Bucky then turned, again walking with such style. He only glanced back once, tossing the lollipop he had stolen over towards Steve. "Tell the old man I said hi."

Steve fumbled with the candy at first, catching it and almost dropping it. His head was swimming, and he couldn't tell how much was due to the bruises, and how much it had to do with his latest interaction with the baddest bad boy their high school had ever seen.

Now it could have been the pain talking but Steve swore that he probably just fell for the guy in the leather jacket that smelled like smoke.

Finally, after things quieted down in Steve's chest he looked at the nurse.

"Worthless thing, that James is, no good criminal. Always drinking and smoking, and a compulsive liar at that. Once convinced the entire staff he lost his mother in a car crash so he couldn't take his End of Course. Rotten, completely," She glanced towards Steve, her eyes narrowing. "Now don't tell me Rogers you're thinking of befriending him. That boy is bad news for everybody involved."

Steve ignored the question, approaching the suddenly interesting poster of a dissected heart. "Thank you for the hospitality, but I believe it's time I dealt with my punishment."

"I told the Principal to go easy on you. He knows how hard you've had it recently. Now you stay far far away from that boy, he'll only bring you ruined lungs and regret. Go on then, don't let the door hit you on the way out. We don't need you having another bruise."

Steve chewed on his lip slightly, shifting the ice against his head. "I don't need his sympathy, It was my fault a fight started," He moved towards the door, shouldering his messenger bag. "See you later, Nurse Matthews."

"God forbid," She waved him off. With a slight grin Steve turned back to begin his walk to the principal's office.

A/N: "Help, I'm Alive" by Metric. Okay, guys, this is my first co-written fic—my partner doesn't have an FF account, but you can find her on tumblr: (anna-dwarf-queen). She is wonderful and awesome, and she wrote this first chapter. You can find me on tumblr as well (kilipains) . Stay tuned! Please review.