Bucky wakes up the next day and instantly knows that something is wrong.

Earlier that morning, he'd heard the sound of the boys eating. He remembered seeing the little one-Hiro, he thinks-sneak into the kitchen earlier, and coax his brother into eating a sandwich.

But now he's hunched over his brother's sleeping form, the remains of the sandwiches resting behind them.

Hiro meets his eyes before Bucky can move forward.

"He's burning up."

"He needs medicine," Bucky says simply.

Steve blinks, rubbing a hand over his face. Then his gaze focuses on the limp body in Bucky's arms, on the trembling boy beside him.

"He has a fever," Hiro emphasises.

Steve remembers when he used to get fevers. He remembers Bucky working extra shifts at the grocers to pay for his medicine, wasting his hard earned money on Steve. Bucky's eyes staring at him as he drifted in and out of sleep...

He swallows back a groan, pushes back the memory.

"He probably needs to be checked out," Sam adds from behind them. "He doesn't look too good."

"Alright." Steve moves from the wall, clapping his hands together. "My bike won't be big enough for all of us to go together, but I can call Tony and ask about a car to take us to the hospital-"

"No," Hiro's snaps, voice surprisingly hard. "You're not taking him anywhere."

Bucky shifts. His hands clench, then unclench at his sides.

"Your brother is sick," he says quietly, not looking at Hiro. "He needs help."

"And I'll help him," Hiro replies evenly.

Steve recognizes something in Hiro's dark eyes, something that reminds him of himself. Defiance. The kid has a fight in him.

He clears his throat. "Why don't you want to go to the hospital, Hiro?"

The kid's eyes snap to his, and soften. "They'll ask where our parents are if we go to the hospital. And then they'll send us away."

Steve can't help but gape a little, because it's not right for a kid to look so hopeless and so completely alone, but so brave and...willing at the same time. Steve's eyes flicker to Bucky, whose fists are still clenched. His eyes meet Steve's, and he knows that they're both feeling the same thing: heartbreak.

"So we'll find you help here," Bucky says, eyes meeting Steve's.

Hiro hesitates, eyes locking on his sleeping brother.

"Come on, bud." Steve forces a smile. "Let us help you two out."

And Hiro nods.

At this point, Hiro is sort of telling Bruce all about his brother.

"I'm not exactly trained in this field," Bruce starts, hands shaking at the sight of the boys. "But I'll try my best to help."

Hiro's eyes widen slightly. Bucky thinks he's going to mention something about the Hulk, but the questions never come out of the boy's mouth.

"A fever, you said?" Bruce asks, adjusting his glasses. His hands hover over Tadashi's body. Hesitant.

Bucky and Steve nod in unison. Hiro stares at the ground.

"And his ribs," Hiro says, his voice almost a whisper. "A-and, I think he hit his head."

Bruce's eyes flicker between Hiro and Tadashi, Bucky and Steve, before they darken in understanding. Then he switches into doctor mode, glancing down at his parents with furrowed eyebrows.

"How old is he?"

"Sixteen."

Bruce lifts up Tadashi's shirt for a few seconds, eyes narrowing on the dark spots that decorate his skin.

"Does he have any allergies to medication?"

Hiro huffs. "Can you help him, or not?"

Bucky runs a hand over his face. "Kid-"

"My name is Hiro," Hiro spits. "Not kid."

"He'll be alright," Bruce murmurs absently, unaffected. He turns about his lab, opening drawers and jotting something down on a notepad.

When Hiro doesn't reply, Bruce looks up. He smiles.

"I promise," he stresses, voice soft. "I don't break promises, Hiro."

Tadashi twitches, sighs in his sleep.

And Hiro finally allows himself to relax.