Something about space. Something about respect. Something about “maybe we shouldn’t do this if we’re just going to keep circling the same stupid arguments.”

And just like that, two people who had survived missions, near-death experiences, and months of quiet, careful healing together… ended over a protein bar and wounded pride.

It would’ve been funny if it didn’t feel like losing a limb.

Now, the compound felt split down the middle.

Yelena had immediately declared herself captain of Team You, dragging John along with her, who nodded like he’d been waiting his entire life to pick a side in something dramatic. Even Bob hovered awkwardly nearby, trying to stay neutral but very obviously siding with whoever Yelena was glaring at less that day.

Across the hall, Ava and Alexei had claimed Bucky with equal enthusiasm.

It had turned into a full-blown turf war.

Petty. Loud. Stupid.

Exactly like the breakup.

“You know he’s miserable, right?” Yelena muttered one afternoon, perched on the kitchen counter while you aggressively chopped vegetables that did nothing to deserve your anger.

You didn’t look up. “Don’t care.”

“You do care,” she sing-songed. “You are just stubborn.”

“I’m not—”

“You cried in the shower yesterday.”

You froze.

She smirked. “Water does not hide everything, you know.”

You pointed your knife at her. “If you tell anyone—”

“I already told Walker,” she said cheerfully.

“Yelena—”

“I am kidding. Relax. You are very tense. You should kiss your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Ex-boyfriend,” she corrected. “Temporary condition.”

You rolled your eyes so hard it hurt. “We’re not getting back together.”

“Mm,” she hummed, unconvinced. “We’ll see.”

---

It didn’t happen on a mission.

There was no dramatic explosion, no heroic sacrifice, no battlefield chaos.

It happened because you slipped.

Bare feet, slick tile, a stupid puddle you hadn’t noticed after your shower—and suddenly you were on the floor with a sharp, shocking pain in your ankle and a yelp that echoed off the bathroom walls.

“Shit—”

You tried to stand, immediately regretted it, and dropped back down with a hiss.

It wasn’t bad.

Not really.

But it hurt, and the shock of it made your eyes sting.

“Hey—hey, what happened?”

Yelena’s voice was suddenly there, followed by footsteps and the bathroom door swinging open.

You were halfway to saying you were fine when the pain pulsed again, sharp enough to steal your breath.

And before you could stop yourself—

“Bucky.”

The word slipped out, small and broken.

Yelena blinked. “What?”

Your throat tightened. You shook your head, embarrassed, but the panic had already latched on, irrational and overwhelming.

“I— I need—”

Another throb of pain. Another wave of tears.

“Bucky,” you said again, louder this time. “I need Bucky.”

Yelena didn’t hesitate.

“Walker!” she barked out into the hall. “Go get Barnes. Now.”

“I can just—” Walker started.

“Now.”

There was a beat of silence, then hurried footsteps.

You tried to laugh it off, wiping at your face. “This is so stupid. It’s just my ankle—”

“It is not stupid,” Yelena said firmly, crouching beside you. “You are injured and dramatic. Both are valid.”

“I’m not—” Your voice wobbled. “I just—”

You didn’t even know how to explain it.

It wasn’t just the pain.

It was the instinct. The reflex. The way your body, even after everything, still reached for him first.

Like he was home.

---

Across the compound, Bucky barely processed Walker’s words.

“—she’s asking for you.”

That was all he needed.

He was already moving before the sentence finished.

“Where?”

“Bathroom—she slipped, I think—”

Bucky didn’t wait.

He ran.

Past the kitchen, past the living area, past Ava calling his name and Alexei asking what happened. His heart pounded hard enough to make his ribs ache, a familiar, terrifying rhythm that only ever showed up when it mattered.

When you mattered.

The door was already open when he got there.

You were on the floor, wrapped in a towel, hair damp, ankle already starting to swell—and crying.

His chest clenched.

“Hey—hey, I’m here,” he said immediately, dropping to his knees beside you. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, baby.”

The word slipped out without thinking.

You didn’t correct him.

You didn’t even hesitate—you just reached for him.

He gathered you carefully, one arm braced behind your back, the other steadying your injured leg.

“Easy,” he murmured, voice soft and grounding. “Don’t move it yet, okay? Let me see.”

“It hurts,” you whispered, pressing your face into his shoulder.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” His hand came up to cradle the back of your head, fingers threading gently through your damp hair. “You’re okay. I’m here now.”

The room had gone quiet.

Yelena leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching with a smug, knowing expression. Walker hovered behind her. Somewhere down the hall, you could hear Alexei loudly announcing that he’d been right all along.

Bucky didn’t notice any of it.

He was too focused on you.

“Can you wiggle your toes?” he asked softly.

You nodded against him, doing as he asked.

“Good. That’s good.” Relief flickered across his face. “Probably just a sprain. We’ll ice it, wrap it up. You’ll be okay.”

You sniffled. “I feel stupid.”

“Hey.” His hand tilted your chin up gently, forcing you to look at him. His expression softened, something warm and achingly familiar settling in his eyes. “You’re not stupid. You got hurt. You called me. That’s… that’s okay.”

Your breath hitched.

“I didn’t even think about it,” you admitted quietly. “I just—”

“Yeah,” he said, voice rough. “Me neither.”

There was a beat of silence.

Heavy. Fragile.

Then you huffed out a small, watery laugh. “We broke up over a protein bar.”

Bucky blinked.

Then, despite everything, a breath of laughter escaped him too. “Yeah. Yeah, we did.”

“That’s so embarrassing.”

“It’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever done,” he admitted. “I’ve made a lot of bad decisions, but that one’s up there.”

You studied him for a moment, really looked at him.

God, you’d missed him.

“Me too,” you said softly. “I didn’t want to be done. I was just… mad.”

“I know.” His thumb brushed under your eye, catching a stray tear. “I didn’t want to be done either. I just didn’t know how to fix it without making it worse.”

“You could’ve tried.”

“I should’ve,” he said immediately. “I should’ve come to you. I should’ve—” He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache.

“I’m sorry too.”

Another pause.

Then, quieter—

“Are we really done?” you asked.

His answer was instant.

“No.”

Something in your chest loosened.

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Okay,” he echoed.

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment like he needed to make sure you were real.

Then he shifted, careful and steady as he lifted you into his arms.

“C’mon,” he murmured. “Let’s get you patched up.”

You curled into him automatically, your arms slipping around his neck.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah, baby?”

A small smile tugged at your lips.

“I missed you.”

His grip tightened, just slightly.

The gym is louder than usual

balls echoing, sneakers squeaking, voices overlapping in a way that makes it hard to focus on just one thing

Azzi stands near the sideline, hands on her hips, watching everything without really looking like she is

she always looks calm

always looks like she’s just there

but she notices everything

the way someone hesitates before a pass

the way a shot comes off just slightly wrong

the way you keep rubbing your wrist like you think no one’s paying attention

she notices that too

you don’t realize it at first

you just keep playing

keep moving

keep pretending it doesn’t bother you

until practice slows down and everyone starts drifting toward the benches, grabbing water, talking over each other

you sit down, shaking out your hand like it’ll fix itself

and then she’s there

not suddenly

just… there

like she always ends up next to you somehow

“…you’re doing that thing again,” she says, nodding toward your wrist

you freeze for a second

“…what thing”

she doesn’t look away

“…pretending it doesn’t hurt”

you huff quietly, looking down

“…it’s fine”

she doesn’t argue

doesn’t call you out

just sits beside you, close enough that your shoulders almost touch

“…let me see,” she says after a second

it’s not forceful

just steady

you hesitate

then hold your hand out anyway

her fingers are careful when they brush against your wrist

light

gentle

like she already knows it’s sensitive

you try not to react

you do anyway

just a small shift

but she notices

of course she does

“…yeah,” she murmurs softly, more to herself than to you

there’s something about the way she says it that makes your chest tighten a little

not bad

just… noticeable

“…you should probably ice it,” she adds

you shrug

“…later”

she glances at you then

really looks this time

“…you won’t”

you don’t answer

because she’s right

there’s a quiet second

then she nudges your shoulder lightly

“…come on”

“…what”

“…training room”

you shake your head immediately

“…I’m good”

she doesn’t push

just stands up

then looks back at you

waiting

not forcing

just… waiting

and somehow that’s worse

you sigh, standing up

“…you’re annoying”

she smiles a little

“…you like it”

you roll your eyes, but you follow her anyway

because you always do

and she always knows you will

⸻

Later you’re sitting on one of the tables, ice pack resting against your wrist, the cold biting just enough to make you focus on something other than the dull ache

Azzi leans against the counter nearby, arms crossed, watching you in that same quiet way

“…you didn’t have to come with me,” you say

“…I know”

“…then why did you”

she shrugs slightly

“…because you wouldn’t have come on your own”

you look down at your wrist again

she’s not wrong

again

“…you pay too much attention,” you mumble

she tilts her head a little

“…not really”

“…you do”

“…only to you”

the words land softer than they should

like they weren’t meant to sound like that

like she didn’t think about how they’d come out

you look up

she’s already looking at you

calm

steady

like she didn’t just say something that makes your chest feel different

you don’t say anything back

you just sit there

holding the ice a little tighter than you need to

while she stays exactly where she is

not moving

not leaving

just there