Chapter Text
"It'll be good for you," Sam murmured as he loaded his tiny boyfriend aboard the Stark Adult Care Home’s bus.
“You just want to get rid of me so I cant conspire with Reggie,” Steve grumbled, struggling to escape the scarf around his neck and the huge floppy hat falling into his eyes.
“Man needs to stop breaking out of the facility, Steve,” Sam drawled, sitting the small blond down and bending over to look into Steve's pouty blue eyes. “I don't care if he's trying to woo some guy across town, he is too old to be driving.”
Wiggling his hands out of the too long sleeves of Sam’s stolen sweatshirt, Steve crossed his arms and grumbled under his breath. “You don't have a romantic bone in your body,” he flinched as soon as the words left his lips and gave his boyfriend a guilty look, “I didn't mean that.”
Kneeling down, Sam gave a tired groan but still smiled at Steve as he cupped his pale cheek in one hand. “Yes you did, you never say anything you don't mean.”
“It's just... Reggie feels trapped!” Steve explained, starting to wheeze as he desperately tried to claw back his bitter words.
“And woe betide anyone who reminds you of how trapped and useless you feel to be stuck in this sicky body. Doomed to be nothing but a burden on your poor overworked boyfriend who works himself to the bone to keep you both afloat?” Sam guessed, still smiling but shaking his head as Steve shrunk in on himself, slowly being crushed by the needless guilt he carried on his tiny shoulders.
Those fears were far from new, constantly dragging the young blond artist down ever since Sam had cut his illustrious military career as a medevac pilot short to return to Steve’s side and take up the mantle of caretaker when Steve’s mother had died. Sam’s confession of pure and unending love had lightened those fears for only a few months until Steve’s condition worsened and sent them both into debt buying a small condo in the Hamptons. The clean salt air promised healing for Steve while an old friend of Sam’s had promised a well paying job in a local retirement home. But between the house payments and hospital bills, the pair was often forced to decide between finding more work or forgoing food. And since seeing Steve’s ribs poking through his sides was about the last thing Sam ever wanted to see again, he worked himself into the ground to keep his little lover in charcoal pencils and organic groceries.
But every time Sam flopped into bed, too tired to even eat dinner, Steve’s heart broke a little more.
“In or out, Wilson,” Happy Hogan called as he climbed into the driver’s seat.
“He's in,” Sam called over his shoulder, pressing a quick kiss to Steve’s lips before standing. “You get better and I will make you the most fucking romantic proposal and wedding you have ever seen.”
Blushing slightly, with his guilt nullified for the moment, Steve smiled shyly up at the man he loved so damn much. “Promise?”
Holding out his pinky finger, Sam hooked it around Steve’s long boney finger. “Promise.”
“Adorable,” Happy drawled, high fiving Sam as he bounded down out of the bus.
“Such a cute couple,” Mrs. O’Flannery cooed, squinting through her thick glasses as Steve curled up across the two bus seats to press his hand against the window, fogging up the glass with his breath as he watched Sam wave before hurrying back to work.
-
One of the many bonuses that Fury had raved about working for a Stark retirement home in the heart of rich bitch central would provide, was the private beach just a short private bus ride away. And as much as Steve preached about eating the rich, and got fond head pats and cookies for all his troubles, he had to admit it was a great place to work on his art.
CaptainAmerica was just starting to gain a following on the internet for his hyper realistic drawings and anti-capitalist rants, but Steve was still far from being able to make a living with his art, his color blindness also limiting his potential. But damned if that was going to stop Steve from taking every meager commission and every Patreon follower to help with their finances as best he could.
Lugging the large beach tote that Sam had packed for him and sun, wind and drizzle protection draped over his small form, Steve finally managed to make his way to the small secluded cove near one end of the beach to drop all his shit into the sand and give a long irritated groan.
It took another ten minutes to get settled and just as Steve picked up his pencil the misting rain that had been threatening all morning, finally started to dust the surface of his paper.
Giving another loud groan, Steve shoved himself to his feet and, with a hand held up over his glasses, wandered over to the ocean caves that boarded the end of the beach to try and find a dry place to draw and wait out the rain. The waves were calm after the huge storm the night before and Steve managed to avoid the sea spray and find a comfortable little corner just inside the cave where he could rest his back against a smooth rock and be completely dry.
It was soothing for a while, the gentle scratch of his pencil against the paper combining with the rhythmic splash of waves against the rocks. But slowly Steve realized that something was off, something sounded not quite right. He had just figured out that it was that the rhythm of the waves was being interrupted, as if something else was splashing in the water, when a loud thunk of metal against stone echoed down the throat of the cave.
Frowning and setting his sketch pad aside, Steve carefully picked his way across the slick rocks near the edge of the water to satisfy his curiosity. He loved finding beach treasures to take home for Sam to tinker with until he found their next purpose in life and hoped that the metal sound was from a bucket or small buoy.
So engrossed in finding a treasure, Steve didn't notice the dark slick across the rock he had just jumped for and with a loud squeak found his feet slipping out from under him as he landed on his ass on the slimy, sticky rock. Groaning, Steve rubbed at his ass before reaching up to push his glasses back in place and catching the scent of a coppery tang.
Staring down in horror, Steve found his hands were covered in blood, sticking his fingers together. After triple checking it wasn't from his fall and feeling even sicker to find that it was all around him, Steve speeded up his search and nearly fell again as he found the source.
A monster, rolling in the surf.
It had the torso of a man, covered in ripped black body armor with several straps across the chest and one sleeve torn away revealing that the creature’s left arm was made of a silvery metal. It had a thick iron collar with a short length of chain attached around its neck and a black mask covering the bottom half of its face, long dark hair plastered across it. The creature’s lower half was a mass of writhing red tentacles, two of which had been cut short and were bleeding all over the rocks. Long eyelashes fluttered across the creature’s cheeks as it tried to keep its icy blue eyes open and crawl away from the shocked blond towering over it.
Steve’s shock vanished when the merman whimpered as his movement sent one of his bleeding tentacles splashing down into the salt water. Swallowing down his curses, Steve slipped off the rock and gasped as he landed knee deep in the ocean water and quickly caught the man’s clawed flesh hand.
“It's ok,” Steve whispered, stroking the hand with his thumb and gently brushing the merman’s hair out of his face. “It's ok, I'm not going to hurt you, it's ok.”
The merman pulled away, crowding himself against the rocks and making a growling clicking sound behind the mask as he stared at the strange small human making soft noises at him. But another wave washed over him, shoving his bleeding limbs against the barnacle covered rocks and pulling more blood into the water. Losing his grip on the rocks with a soft cry of pain, the merman found himself caught in the surprisingly strong arms of the thin human as he fell towards the water.
“I've got you, it's going to be ok now, I've got you,” Steve murmured, bracing himself against the rocks to hold the merman still as he fumbled with the clasps of the collar and mask.
They fell away, splashing into the salt water and freeing the merman to take several large gulps of air. The gills on his neck fluttered, a faint flush of color returned to them from where the collar had been pressing them tight. No longer shying away from the blond’s touch, the merman clutched tightly at Steve's hands as the blond carefully lowered him down to submerge his gills to take several more deep breaths.
As another wave splashed over the exhausted merman, shoving him against the blood splattered rocks, he gave a soft gurgling cry and gritted his sharply pointed teeth.
“I know, I know, just hold on, baby,” Steve murmured, shifting his hold and gritting his own teeth as he half lifted, half dragged the merman out of the surf. Resting for a moment on top of the rock he had jumped off of, Steve breathed a sigh of relief as he spotted a concave in the rocks just inside the shelter of the cave mouth that had been filled with clean seawater from the storm last night.
“One, two, three.” Steve murmured, more to himself than anyone but was presently surprised when the merman’s arms around his neck tightened and his good tentacles pushed against the rocks to help Steve lift and carry the merman to the pool of water.
“There we are,” Steve whispered, easing the merman down and returning to tucking his long hair out of his light blue eyes, wide now with confusion as well as pain. “We’re ok, we’re ok.”
The light was worse in the cave but Steve had enough practice patching himself up that skimming his fingers down the merman’s flanks was enough to mark all the rents in the body armor that blood still flowed freely from his pale skin and red tentacles.
“I’m gonna take care of you,” Steve breath, the irony of repeating Sam’s promise to the monstrous creature staring up at him with huge uncertain eyes, was not lost on the blond as he moved to stand and was stopped by a fearful whine and a metal hand and thick tentacles wrapping around his arm.
“Hey, hey, I’m here, I’m with you,” Steve soothed, coming back to the merman’s side, “to the end of the line.”
Taking an unsteady breath through his nose, the creature nodded and reluctantly let go, his weak limbs falling back into the water with a splash and a soft gasp.
The weight of the trust being placed in him was at the same time comforting and terrifying but Steve didn’t linger to parse it out, hurrying out of the cave and running as best he could across the damp sand to the first aid kit that Sam always snuck into Steve’s belongings.
“Steve?!” Happy shouted from a covered pagoda close to the parking lot, that Steve had stubbornly refused to use, as he spotted the blond rummaging through his crap while half covered in blood.
Freezing for a moment as he realized his current sopping wet state, Steve tugged the first aid kit out of his bag and waved vaguely at Happy. “I’m fine! Don't follow me!”
With the bus driver’s curses ringing in his ears, but thankfully only reaching for his phone to tattle to Sam and not taking matters into his own hands, Steve rushed back to the cave and was quickly pulled back into the merman’s frantic grasp.
“See,” Steve murmured with a soft smile as he wrenched the kit open and began cleaning out the end of one of the merman’s severed tentacles, “I've got you. I’m with you.”
“Bay…. bee….” the merman growled, the effort of speaking seemingly unfamiliar as he tried to say the strange word.
“Baby?” Steve whispered, unable to stop the grin spreading across his face as he caught the merman’s quivering clawed hand reaching out to him and impulsively pressing a kiss to the scarred palm. “Is that what you want to be called?”
“Bu….” the merman murmured before hissing, his tentacles writhing as Steve gently dabbed antiseptic onto the already scarring stump.
Giving a sympathetic noise and gently nuzzling into the merman’s hand as he raised it to cup Steve’s cheek, the blond began bandaging the tentacle. “Bud?” He asked, trying to keep the conversation going to distract the merman from his pain.
The merman growled, making a face at the word and shaking his head before lifting the second damaged tentacle into Steve’s hands.
“Buck?” Steve asked, murmuring a thank you as he made quick work of bandaging the second tentacle and grinning as he got a small smile in return.
Gently setting the tentacle down, Steve took the merman’s metal hand and leaned more into the one stroking his cheek and smiled down into the wonder struck eyes of the monster below him. “Bucky” the blond purred, smiling even wider at the questioning noise and gentle press of fingers in his hand. “I’m Steve.”
“Steeeeeve,” Bucky hissed, making happy clicking noises that turned to screams. His metal hand was not fast enough to stop the pistol from slamming into the side of Steve’s head. Not fast enough to stop the small blond’s body from being thrown sideways into the rocks from the force of the blow.
Even as pain filled his world, Steve fought to get up, fought all the harder as he saw more men dressed in black scuba gear dragging Bucky back, a new steel collar around his neck as he screamed all the louder, reaching desperately for Steve.
The sickly little blond fought even as the pistol came down on his skull a second time and plunged him into darkness, the sounds of Bucky’s screams echoing through his dreams.