I woke up in my bed back at the house. I sat up quickly, pushing the blankets off of me and walking across the room. My shoes had been taken off my feet and placed by the door, along with my jacket, but I was still wearing the jeans and t shirt that I had been in Boston.

It was dark outside. The clock on the bedside table read two seventeen AM.

I turned to go back to bed and try to fall asleep when I heard a loud crash and a voice from outside the room. Without a moments hesitation I exited my room and went to the one next door, where I thought the noise had come from. I went in without knocking, and was surprised to find Bucky standing in the center of the room wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a tight blue long sleeve. A shattered lamp lay on the floor next to him.

"Bucky, are you okay?" I shut the door behind me and walked towards him.

"I'm fine," he said, turning away from me. "I'm fine, I-I was just dreaming, I'm fine; go back to bed."

"You're not fine, you're shaking!" I protested. "What happened?"

"N-nothing," he insisted, breathing labored, "nothing. I'm fine."

As he spoke he absentmindedly clawed at his shoulder where his metal arm began, a pained look on his face. I walked over to him and put my arms around his shoulders in an awkward bear hug from behind sort of manner.

"Cara-!"

"Stop thrashing, stop fighting it," I said calmly. "Take a deep breath, listen to the sound of my voice, focus on my breathing. Your heart rate will slow down and you'll stop hyperventilating, just focus on me."

Bucky's breathing gradually returned to normal, and he stopped shaking. I turned him around so that we were facing each other and urged him to sit down on the little bench at the foot of the bed, keeping my hand on his shoulder. I ran my fingers through his hair softly as he collected himself, his head bent downwards and his eyes closed. He slowly put his hand on my thigh as he raised his head, seemingly thanking me without words. I brushed my lips against his cheek in response, keeping my head close to his shoulder.

Suddenly, Bucky turned and kissed me full on the mouth, his metal hand coming up and cupping my face gently. I was slightly surprised when I felt his tongue skim my lip, but I quickly opened my mouth and allowed him to take control.

I suddenly realized how long it had been since Bucky and I had properly made out. Moreover, I could barely recall the last time we'd had sex. While this was understandable considering the circumstances, I missed him; I wanted him.

I began to push up his shirt slightly as we kissed, shifting from sitting to kneeling. His lips froze suddenly as my hands made contact with his stomach, and I instantly withdrew.

"Shit, I'm sorry, that was habit," I apologized profusely as I stood up. "I'm so so sorry, the last thing I wanna do is pressure you into doing what you're not ready to do, and I totally understand if you're not ready to do that be-"

"Cara."

I stopped talking as he stood up in front of me and pressed his mouth against mine again. His hands gripped my waist as I pushed mine into his hair. After a few moments, his hands wandered up my shirt. I pulled back and whipped it off as he began kissing my neck, stopping at the spot right under my jaw and sucking on the skin slightly. I tossed my head back to give him better access, my eyes fluttering closed. He massaged my breasts for a moment, then reached around my back to unclasp my bra. He did, and as it fell to the ground I pulled away slightly.

"Are you sure?" I asked breathlessly, gripping his shirt.

He took it off in response, almost like he remembered the effect his abs had over me. My mouth felt dry and I instantly wanted to fuck him more than I had thirty seconds ago.

"That's cheating," I breathed, still staring at his bare torso. "You know I can't look at you like that without wanting to have sex! You're sweaty-"

"I could be sweating more in a few minutes if we stop talking."

"- and shirtless and being almost a dick, and you know that that's what turns me on!"

He put his hand on the back of my head and pressed his forehead against mine. "I felt like it did."

"God why is everything you do such a fucking turn on?" I hissed. "It's not fair!"

He smirked and pulled me closer so that our bare chests were pressed against each other." You're the one standing here with her tits out, you think I'm not hard right now?"

"Bucky, I'm serious," I squealed slightly as he grabbed my ass. "I don't want you to regret anything after; I don't want to move too fast. Also, I don't want you to listen to your dick over your brain."

"What if I'm listening to neither?" He murmured, his mouth hovering in front of mine.

My heart pounded as he stared into my eyes. I felt something different; something that I hadn't felt with Bucky in a long time. I was almost nervous. It felt like our first time all over again and amplified by six thousand.

"What if," he continued quietly, running his flesh hand across my shoulder, "I'm listening to my heart?"

It was always the simple, tiny, borderline cheesy things that Bucky said to me that had the greatest effect on me. This was no exception; I practically melted into his arms.

****

"Fuck. That was incredible."

I smiled at Bucky and laughed slightly. "Yeah, we've always been pretty good at the sex part of the relationship."

He leaned over and kissed me quickly before getting up and walking across the room.

"I'm gonna shower," he called, turning back slightly. "You want in?"

I contemplated for a moment. "I'm good, thanks Buck. Maybe in the morning. I'm exhausted."

"Get some sleep," he nodded. "I'll be out soon."

He closed the door and I turned over, pulling the blankets over me. I started to close my eyes, then sat up abruptly.

"I hate sleeping naked," I muttered to myself.

I got up and went over to the dresser. I opened the underwear drawer and pulled out a pair of boxers I'd never seen him wear, put them on, and then went to the shirt drawer. As I was digging through and looking for an old shirt, my hand hit something hard. Along with a t-shirt, I pulled out a small leather bound black notebook. I put the shirt on, then sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the notebook. Eyebrows furrowed, I slowly opened it.

The first page had a small picture of Steve on it, with writing scrawled down the rest of it. Before I could stop myself, I began reading.

Steve Rodgers has been your best friend since you were a kid. He was this tiny little punk who lived around the block and was smarter than everyone else. He will do anything for you. No matter how much you push him away, he'll always come back, so there's no use in that.

I stopped reading and flipped through the notebook, scanning the pages. There was a picture of each member of the team with writing under each. I paused when I got to the one with Tony's picture.

Tony Stark is like his father. He's arrogant, a jackass, and almost always a douchebag. That being said, he has good intentions. His sister means the world to him, and he'd do absolutely anything for her. They don't know what you did to their parents, and they can never know. He'd kill you.

I stopped and kept flipping, stopping when I got to the last page. There was a folded up picture paper clipped to the page, and I slowly took it off. I unfolded it and stared at the back, which had something scrawled on it.

New Year's Eve 2015. Steve took while you weren't looking.

I flipped it over. The picture was what I expected- Bucky and I at the New Years party. I knew when it had been taken, after the roof when we'd gone back downstairs and rejoined the party. I remember it well, everyone was so drunk and oblivious that we acted like a real couple and nobody noticed anything. To them it just seemed like we might have been flirting.

In the picture, my arm was slung around his neck, and I was laughing at something. Bucky was grinning at me, his arm around my waist and his face smashed against the side of mine. It looked as though he had whispered something in my ear and I'd turned away laughing. We looked incredibly happy.

I looked away from the picture and down to the writing on the page.

Cara Stark is almost indescribable. She cares about others more than anyone you've ever met. She's funny and she's beautiful and she's so goddamn smart. She seems to know everything about everything, yet she never makes you feel like an idiot. She will do anything for the people she loves, and somehow, you're lucky enough to be one of those people. You do everything you can to make her happy. When she's upset, it physically hurts you because you know that she doesn't deserve to feel that way. She doesn't give a shit about what you've done in the past, she believes in you unequivocally. She makes you a better person.

You love her.

You love her you love her you love her.

One day you're going to marry her because you're never going to find someone that loves you like she does and you're never going to love someone the way you love her.

Never forget her. Remember her always, because without her you are nothing. She doesn't deserve to be forgotten. She's done so much for you, the least you can do is remember that you love her.

"What's that?"

I slammed the notebook shut and hid it behind my back. Bucky stood in the doorway of the bathroom, a towel around his waist.

"Nothing."

"Come on, what is it?"

"It's nothing, Bucky," I said quickly.

He furrowed his eyebrows at me. "Cara, what is it?"

"I said it's nothing. Just a book I found in the drawer, I think my dad left it behind."

"Oh. Okay."

"I'm just gonna go put it in my room," I said, walking towards the door. "I'll be right back."

Bucky nodded and I left closing the door softly behind me. I walked over to my room and rushed inside, tearing open a drawer and burying the journal under a pile of clothes. I slammed the drawer closed and slumped forward against the dresser.

I hadn't the slightest idea of what to do next.