There was something there, of course; something had stopped me. Whatever it was, it was invisible. Suddenly, the air below me rippled, and a quin-jet began to appear.

"Holy shit," I muttered as the jet's cloaking device finished turning off.

"Get in it!"

Scott's voice brought me back to reality, and I noticed the emergency exit window on top of the jet was wide open. I crawled over as fast as I could on one arm, the other leaving a trail of blood behind me as I went. When I reached the window I slid into it and dropped right into the pilot's seat. The exit window closed, and the jet instantly shot upwards. I screamed as the force from the sudden movement knocked me off the seat and my arm hit against the control board.

"Cara? Cara, you're breaking up." Scott sounded worried as I forced myself back into the seat. "Switch over to the quin-jet comms."

I reached forward and grabbed the wireless headset from the dashboard, quickly putting it on. After pressing the button on the side of the headset, I strapped myself in to keep myself from flying around the cabin.

"Cara? Cara, are you back?"

"Yeah," I said quietly. "Yeah, I'm in the jet. Good thinking, by the way."

"Thanks. I was able to hack into the transportation systems at Stark Tower and this jet's system. Autopilot is all set to bring you to a clearing in the woods about twenty minutes from the house on the edge of your property. It'll probably be a bit of a rough landing, but Wanda is going to meet you there."

"Okay, thanks," I replied faintly.

I painstakingly pulled my ripped and bloody jacket from my body and looked down at my arm, instantly feeling the urge to puke. Tony had shot me in the shoulder, right below my collarbone. It was bleeding a lot, and while I knew it wasn't too far of a ride, I also knew that I needed to do something about it. I must have made a noise or something upon seeing the wound, because Scott instantly knew something was wrong.

"Cara, what's going on? Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"Uh, I'm fine," I replied uneasily. "Natasha almost tore my leg out of my hip and Tony shot me in the shoulder, but I'm fine."

"What?!"

"Shut up; I'm fine," I snapped. "I'm sure there's something I can use here to fix it."

I unbuckled my seatbelt and stood up shakily, quickly adjusting to the jolting of the aircraft. I limped over to the small emergency cabinet and tore it open, pulling out the first aid kit.

"Did you find something?"

"Well if you could shut up for five minutes and let me look maybe I could figure it out," I mumbled.

I opened the kit and found some bandages, dropping the rest of the box. I pressed them against my shoulder and they were instantly soaked with blood. Pain shot through my entire body, and I shoved a piece of gauze in my mouth to keep myself from screaming. After a few minutes, I spit out the gauze that had become bloodied by my busted lip and wrapped more bandages around my shoulder haphazardly. I secured it with a stray bobby pin I'd found in my pocket and made my way back to the seat. I sat back, keeping one hand over my shoulder.

"Hey, Scott, how are you with blood?"

"Horrendous," he replied immediately. "My daughter once hit her chin on the slide at the playground and the moment she started bleeding I passed out."

"Great," I grimaced. "Looks like I'll be doing my own surgery."

"Oh my god!" He groaned. "The bullet is still in your shoulder, isn't it?"

"Yeah...."

"Jesus, Cara. I told you this was all a bad idea. Barnes is gonna flip when he sees you."

"No he isn't," I insisted.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but he seems like the kind of guy that will flip when his girlfriend comes home all beat up with a bullet in her shoulder."

"He isn't going to flip because he isn't going to know," I snapped, fidgeting with the strap across my lap.

"He's gonna know."

"No, he won't."

"Cara, the man never leaves your side, he's bound to notice when you can't lift your arm!"

"Don't you dare say anything to him," I said lowly. "That will make me very angry, Lang, and you don't want me to be angry at you."

Scott was silent for a few moments and I almost felt bad about what I'd said.

"Whatever, it's your relationship," he sighed finally. "I'm hanging up. I'll let you know when you're ten minutes out."

I started to protest, but Scott cut off before I could, and all I heard was static. I sighed and pulled the headphones off, tossing them back onto the dash. My nose had started bleeding again; I could feel the warmth of the blood creeping towards my mouth.

I wiped it carelessly, the streak of red on the back of my hand almost seeming to mock me. With a loud sigh, I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes. I was in for a long-ass day.

****

I was woken up by a loud beeping noise emitting from the dashboard. I leaned forward groggily, shoved the headphones back onto my head, and slammed my hand down on the buzzer to make the beeping stop.

"Hello?"

"Seven minutes to landing," Scott said dully. "It's about to get rocky, make sure you're strapped in."

"Thanks," I muttered, tightening my seatbelt. "Hey, Scott, I wanted to-"

"Wanda will meet you there. I'll see you in a bit."

He cut his end of the line, and I sat back in disbelief. I looked out the window in front of me and saw that the jet was beginning to descend into the forest. Scott was right; the closer we got to the treetops, the more the jet jerked back and forth. After several minutes, it's wheels hit the ground and I lurched forward at the force of it.

I quickly unbuckled myself and picked my jacket up from the ground before limping over to the cargo ramp, which I deployed by pressing a button on the wall. It lowered slowly and I walked down it. Wanda stood at the base of the ramp waiting for me, her arms folded over her chest. She smiled a little as I walked up to her, the ramp closing behind me.

"Good morning," she smirked. "You look like shit."

I rolled my eyes at her. "Thanks, Wanda."

She turned around and began walking towards the car parked several feet away from us.

"Come on, we've got to get back to the house," she called, climbing into the drivers seat. "Scott will turn on the jet's cloaking mechanism in a few minutes."

I followed her and opened the passenger door, somewhat struggling to get in between my hip and my shoulder. Wanda picked up a towel from the backseat and shoved it behind my back before I could fully sit down.

"We can't get blood on the seats," she said casually.

"How's everything back at the house?" I asked as she put the car in park and began to drive away. "What did you tell everyone?"

"Well, Cara, it is five o'clock in the morning, nobody was awake."

I picked at the skin near my thumb nail and stared at my feet. "Bucky's gonna know."

She was quiet for a few moments, staring straight ahead. She bit her lip and glanced over at me.

"Scott said you were convinced he wouldn't," she muttered finally.

I pressed my hand to my shoulder again and stared at my feet. "Yeah, that's bullshit."

"So...what are you going to do?"

"Good question."

"He will be angry?"

"I'd be shocked if he wasn't."

"And what happens when he gets angry and sees you like this?"

I hesitated before responding to her. "I assume we'll probably fight about it. He'll yell at me, I'll scream at him, I imagine I'll end up in tears and trying to storm away then he'll stop me and tell me to stop running and I'll apologize and call myself stupid and he'll tell me I'm not stupid even when I insist that I am and then I'll make some dumb, inappropriate joke and he'll tell me to shut up and I'll kiss him and we'll be okay again."

Wanda looked over at me, a slightly worried look on her face. "Jesus, Cara."

"I had a long time to think on the flight," I mumbled. "But I mean, it's just a guess."

"Well good luck with that, then."

I didn't respond, just looked out the window and watched as we drove deeper into the forest towards the house.

The rest of the ride was silent, and when it was finally over and Wanda put the car in park, I was terrified. We snuck into the house and down to the basement silently and without disturbance, and once we were in the elevator I felt a little more relaxed.

"Okay," I said as we began our descent. "First things first, I get this bullet out of my shoulder. Patch that up, stitch up my lip a little, ice my entire body, and we're good to go!"

Wanda looked over at me doubtfully and crossed her arms. "Much easier said than done, I am sure."

"Oh yeah. Definitely."

The doors opened and I walked out as quickly as I could, my hand still keeping the bandage tight on my shoulder. The lab was empty, and I made a beeline for the infirmary.

"Scott isn't down here," I muttered as I began pulling tools from the cabinets and tossing them onto a tray.

"Probably went to get some sleep," Wanda offered. "Do you need help?"

I shook my head, "No, I-" I stopped talking suddenly.

"Wha-"

"Shh!" I hissed. "Do you hear that?"

Wanda furrowed her eyebrows together. "What?"

"The elevator is moving, someone's coming down," I muttered. "Hide me!"

"Cara, where am I going to hide you?! I thought you said it was no use lying to Bucky?!"

"I never said that."

"You implied it!"

"I'll stay in here, just pretend that I'm not!" I cried, turning off the infirmary lights and pulling a curtain out to hide behind. "Now shh!"

I heard the elevator door open, and voiced immediately floated into the lab. Bucky was in the middle of yelling.

"-told you to cut the shit!"

"I'm telling you I don't know where she is," Scott insisted to Bucky.

"Wanda, where is Cara?"

"She went for a run about twenty minutes ago," Wanda responded casually. "She should be back within the hour."

"Bullshit. You both know where she is."

I started to move further away from the edge of the curtain, my heart leaping into my throat. Suddenly, my fingers lost grip of the bandages on my arm, and they tumbled to the ground. My eyes widened as they laid there on the ground, and I quickly picked them up. As I came up from doing so, my shoulder slammed into the little medical cart next to me.

I couldn't hold it in; I cried out in pain.

The cart clattered to the ground and I laid there next to it, the entire left side of my body feeling like it was on fire. Bucky was beside me before I could even try and stand, scooping me up and carrying me over to one of the hospital-like beds next to us. He put me on it and ripped the curtain away so he could get to the cabinets by the door. Scott and Wanda flew into the room, both looking panicked.

"He knows!" Scott screamed, pushing in front of Wanda.

"Really, Lang?!" I snapped, "I had NO idea! Thank you for that oh-so-helpful heads up!"

"I knew you were going to go," Bucky muttered, returning to my side with all sorts of medical shit. "Jesus, Cara, look at you!"

"You should see the other guy," I said, smiling weakly.

Bucky was not amused. He picked up a cotton pad and doused it with rubbing alcohol before taking me by the shoulder and holding me down gently.

"This is going to hurt like a bitch," he told me.

"I've been through stuff like this before I-AHHHAHHHHH JEEESUS CHRIST!"

I writhed in pain, screaming as the cotton made contact with the open wounds covering my body and made them all sting like crazy. Bucky held me down firmly; all it took was his metal hand pressed down on my opposite shoulder. He finished cleaning the gunshot wound and tossed the cotton into the garbage. I groaned and touched my shoulder gingerly.

"Stop, you'll make it worse," Bucky said quietly, moving my hand away gently. "Alright, I'm gonna get the bullet out now. Wanda, come here. Hold her down on that side. Between the fact that I've only ever done this on myself and we don't have any super powerful painkillers, this is going to be interesting."

"Wait," I reached out and grabbed his wrist before he could go at my shoulder with an extra long pair of tweezers, "Scott, go into that bottom drawer over there...just do it, come on!"

Scott walked over to the drawer and opened it. He pulled out a bottle of whiskey and rose his eyebrows at me. I motioned for him to bring it over to me and took it quickly.

"We're civil war-ing this shit," I announced, taking a long swig. "Okay, go."

Bucky exhaled deeply and put his hand on me. "I'm going to make this as quick as I can, but that's just going to make it more painful."

I nodded and looked up at him. "It's okay," I whispered. "I trust you."

He swallowed. Suddenly, there was a deep, deep stinging pain shooting through my shoulder. I screwed my eyes shut as the pain intensified and only seemed to be getting worse. I screamed as I felt the tweezers grab onto the bullet and begin to be pulled out of me.

"It's out," Bucky said after a few moments. "It's out."

I opened my eyes and bit down on my lip to keep myself from crying, simultaneously avoiding Bucky's eyes.

"Guys, give us a minute, please," he said quietly, putting the tweezers down on the tray next to him.

Wanda and Scott left the room eagerly, shutting the door behind them. Bucky grabbed a chair from the other side of the room and dragged it over to the side of the bed.  I started to sit up and turn towards him, but he stopped me.

"I still have to wrap it," he muttered. "Sit still for a little longer.

He brought out gauze and bandages, and began to wrap it up. He touched me as gently as he always did, even though I could tell he wanted to say something. But he didn't. So I did instead.

"I'm sorry," I muttered. "I'm an ass."

"You're not an ass."

"I'm an ass."

"Cara, shut up," he said. "Lean forward a little."

I did, and he tucked the bandages under each other to secure them.

"You're done."

I sat back and looked over at him. "I am sorry."

"What were you thinking, Cara?"

"I wasn't," I muttered. "I wasn't thinking, I-I let my emotions get the better of me and I did something stupid. And I-I-I lied to you. I told you I wouldn't and I did and I'm a horrible person, and I'm a horrible girlfriend, and I don't blame you if you hate me and you guys want me to leave because I'm such an idiot but-"

"Cara, stop. Just stop talking for a minute," he cut me off, taking one of my hands in his. "You're not a horrible person, you're not a horrible girlfriend, I do not want you to leave, and I sure as hell do not hate you."

"You're not mad?"

"God, of course I'm mad. What you did was fucking stupid.  Really, really fucking stupid, Cara," he laughed a little bit, then got serious again. He moved his hand to my cheek and brushed my hair out of my eyes. "But you're alive, and you're safe, and that's more important to me than anything else."

"I look like shit, don't I?" I mumbled after a few moments.

"Nah, it's not that bad," he lied, caressing my face softly.

I shook my head, "No, it's bad. I look like I got run over my a truck."

Bucky started laughing as he looked down at me. "Yeah, yeah, it's pretty bad."

I started laughing too. I sat up to get closer to him, but winced at the weight put on my hip.

"What's wrong with your leg?" He asked concernedly, putting his hand on the outside of my hip.

"It's just strained, uh, at least I hope it's just strained," I waved it off. "I was fighting, you know, she was trying to dislocate my hip."

"She?" He rose an eyebrow. "Tony didn't do that?"

"No, the uh, the getting shot thing was him. The leg was Natasha's doing."

He stood up suddenly, as if the mood had changed abruptly. "I'll go get you some ice."

"Buck, I'm fine."

"No, you should ice it, I'll be fine."

"Bucky, no," I said harshly.

He stopped walking and turned back towards me.

I hesitated slightly. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course."

"What happened between you and Natasha?" I asked slowly. "Negative, positive, violent, sexual, I don't know what it was, but it was clearly something."

He looked at the ground quickly, then back at me. "Nothing happened. Why would you ask that?"

I sat up and folded my arms. "First of all, you're lying. You just looked at the ground before speaking."

"Okay, Wanda."

"I ask because whenever anyone mentions her you want to change the subject. Back before all this shit started, you never talked to her, you never liked to be near her."

"That's not true."

"Yes it is. You know I notice those things!" I got off the bed and walking towards him, bouncing my uninjured leg anxiously.

"You should sit down."

"She doesn't do anything weird around you, but she's Natasha, she can keep a secret better than anyone. But you, you're a shitty actor."

"I don't know what you're asking."

"Really, Buck, you're going to make me say it?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

I sighed and looked up at him. "Did you fuck her?"

"Oh my god, Cara."

"What? If you did I'm not mad, I don't care! I know it wasn't when we were together and I get it, she's hot, but you could have told me you slept with one of my best friends before you slept with me!"

"I didn't say I slept with her."

"Well did you?"

He didn't respond for a few moments, and my heart sunk.

"Oh," I said, my voice cracking in the middle of the word. "Uh, okay. Whatever, I said I don't care."

"I don't know," he said lowly. "I don't know if I slept her."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "How can you not know if you had sex with someone?"

"Because I can't remember everything I've done, Cara!" He said harshly. "I think I knew her a long time ago, I think something happened, but I don't know! Hell, I don't even know if I really met her or if that was just something they planted in my brain to fuck with me!"

I stopped walking towards him, suddenly feeling like the most insensitive, shitty person in the entire world. Of course he didn't remember everything he'd done in his life, he'd had his brain tampered with for the last seventy years. The tension between us had skyrocketed, and I could tell neither of us knew what to say. He ran his hand through his hair repeatedly, clearly stressed, which only made me feel worse.

"Cara, I-"

Bucky stopped talking as I reached out and wrapped my good arm around his neck. He was hesitant to put his arms around me at first, but was quick to hold me tighter.

"You don't have to explain anything," I muttered, putting my hand in his hair. "I shouldn't have asked."

"I love you," he said, pressing his lips against my forehead.

I closed my eyes and leaned into his chest, "I love you too."

"Jesus Christ, Cara what happened to you?"

I glanced towards the door that Steve, Sam, and Clint had just burst through. They all looked shocked at sight of me. I couldn't blame them of course; I was slowly realizing just how much blood I was covered in.

"I'm fine," I assured them, leaning into Bucky's side. "I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" Steve asked, looking me up and down as if he expected to see a knife sticking out of my leg or something.

I nodded and Bucky wrapped his arm around my shoulder tightly. He kissed my temple softly and I smiled.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm great."