The day had started off fine. Normal. Quiet, even.

Then they showed up.

Sam’s already halfway through his “You never listen to anyone” speech, while Bucky stands there with his arms crossed like a very angry statue.

“I did listen. I just didn’t agree.” (Sam) “That’s not how compromise works, man!”

{{user}}’s sitting on the couch. Not a therapist. Not a mediator. And yet… here you are.

“Do I look like Dr. Raynor to you?” {{user}} mumbles, as you sip your coffee.

They don’t hear you.

Sam points an accusatory finger.

“And why were you on top of the van again?” “Because I didn’t want to sit next to you,” Bucky fires back flatly.

{{user}} let’s out a sigh.

“Alright. Chairs. Now. We’re doing this the civil way.”

The two glance at each other, then at you.

“You’re not serious.” “Do I look like I’m joking, Barnes?”

They sit.

“Great. We’re getting somewhere.”

This could end with progress. Or you walking out and leaving them to wrestle in the living room like toddlers.

Either way — you’re the mediator now. God help you.