“No one’s here to capture us, now stand down,” Steve said, perhaps a little too harshly, but he couldn’t help it. If Bucky killed any of these kids-- It was over. It was over and his perfect, beautiful Bucky was going to be taken away where he would never, never be able to recover again.

So he put himself in the way of the gun in his hand. He pressed himself right up against the barrel as the girl took off, hands on her head as if it was meant to be an order for her and not for Bucky.

He wasn’t sure how far this fantasy had ingrained itself into Bucky’s head so Steve just went for it, winging it. “I outrank you, Sargent!” he barked, relying on what he knew about his dad, who had been a Captain when he died. A field officer. Steve was scrawny and his voice was softer than he wanted it to be right now, but in the darkness of the tunnel with flashlights aimed at them, he could play this part. He had to. “Weapons down, that’s an order. These are our men and our mission is to get these civilians to safety.”

Bucky could still shoot him. He knew his finger was on that hair trigger.