Son of a Witch

Bucky could tell when Billy started to struggle. Still he pressed them, because every step they took was a step closer to shelter, to warmth and safety, to getting Billy bundled up into the bed in the little cabin.

Eventually though he knew he had to stop, before Billy fell right over. He'd had a long trying day even before the escape; Bucky should've tried to get them closer before they'd abandoned the jeep. He stopped, tugging Billy first to his side before bending to sweep him into his arms, cloak wrapped around him like a blanket.

"No complaints," he preemptively murmured, eyes fixed ahead. "Stay awake and keep talking. Tell me a story if you have to."