After what happened with him in the airplane, and the mountain, Bucky had one rule. Never leave the house angry, always tell the people you love that you love them before you go. Just in case something happened. But he'd never seen {{user}} this angry at him, and truth be told, he'd never been this angry at her. So in his blind rage, he'd forgotten all about his rule.

He wasn't sure what they'd even started arguing about, but once they'd started, there was no containing it. The fire had been stoked, and it was burning brighter than ever. When one of them yelled, the other yelled back, and then it was insult after insult, and neither of them really meant what they were saying. It ended in Bucky sleeping on the couch, because she'd slammed the bedroom door in his face like a child. He'd hated every second of it. She'd yelled at him to leave, tonight. But he didn't. Of course, he didn't.

And the next morning, they'd both been called off to a mission. Suiting up was medicinal, procedural, quick and silent. He zipped her suit up, she helped him get his boots on, but not a word was exchanged, and each action was teemed with some kind of anger that was just held back by the seam of their lips.

The mission barely succeeded.

Almost everyone was gravely injured, despite their eventual victory. Bucky had a stab wound in his shin. It wasn't so bad, not as bad as what everyone else was sporting after the fight had gone down. But {{user}} had some of the worst of it. She had a large gash running up her hip all the way to her shoulder, on her left side. She'd been bleeding for 5 whole minutes before any of them found her, time that could've been spent trying to save her.

They'd all come together as a team to patch each other up, and had taken the longest on her. Her wound dressings were amateur at best, and Bucky knew he'd have to redo them at home, but they'd do for now. The jet ride home was silent, haunted, as was their trip to their shared apartment. The air between them still crackled with something unspoken. Anger. Hatred. He hoped they wouldn't be changed forever.

The first thing he did was lead her to the bathroom, sit her on the toilet, and redo her wrappings.

"Are you gonna ignore me forever?"

Not a word.

"Okay, well, you better listen to me then." He grumbled, wrapping her torso with the gauze carefully. "If you're gonna leave, make sure it's right. Don't do anything like that. Do it for me."

Still, nothing.

And then he wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. How was he going to fix it if she wouldn't even speak to him. "C'mon, baby, please. I want you, you know that. I thought I lost you out there. You know how scary that was for me?"