About forty five minutes later, I was back home, standing in the elevator. The doors slid open, and I exited slowly. My clothes were completely drenched, and stuck stiffly to my body. Droplets from my damp hair dripped to the ground and left a trail from the elevator into the living room.

When I came to the threshold of the living room, I was surprised to see everyone else sitting there. A fire had been lit in the fireplace, and someone had obviously just told a very funny joke. I was extremely surprised to see Sam sitting next to Steve, laughing with a beer in his hand. He'd been gone for weeks on end, and when he did come back he was only there for a few hours. I was very close to Sam as well. We had a goofy relationship that generally consisted of pretending we were more than friends. Everyone knew that was false, of course, and that it would never be more than a joke. But it was good fun, and made people laugh when things got tense.

"Hey! Cara! I'm back, baby!" He grinned at me, but then his face dropped. "Wait, are you okay?"

Tony stood and rushed over to me. "Where have you been?"

"Oh, you look so worried."

"I was worried," he defended himself. "I called you seventeen times. But you left your phone in the lab."

"Sorry, I went for a walk."

"Cara, it's pouring."

"Yeah, and I went for a walk," I snapped and scanned the room. "Where's Clint?"

"He went home for the weekend," Natasha called. "But he and Laura will be back for the party on New Year's Eve."

"Oh, okay. Um, I'm going to go shower," I said shortly and rushed towards the stairs.

"Ooh, mind if I tag along, baby girl?!" Sam called.

I tried to keep myself from grinning, and turned my neck so I could see him. "Maybe another day," I winked.

"Oh, Cara Stark, you kill me girl!" He cried, sprawling himself out across the chair he shared with Steve. "I've missed you!"

I laughed and ran up the stairs, pausing when I was out of sight. I sighed lightly and smiled to myself. Normalcy. As I started towards my room, I heard footsteps behind me. When I turned, Steve stood there.

"Hey," he said quietly.

"Hi."

He folded his arms and leaned against the wall. "How are you?"

I exhaled angrily and folded my arms as well. "Why does everyone keep asking that?"

"Because you aren't acting like yourself and, honestly, you kind of look like crap."

"I'm fine."

"Cara, you are one of my best friends in the entire world. You're like a sister to me, and I love you," he said sternly.

I smiled sarcastically. "Thank you, Steve."

"And I'm worried," he said lowly. "About you and about Bucky."

I sighed and unfolded my arms. "Steve-"

"Let me talk, Cara," he held up his hand. "He hasn't left his room all day. He won't talk to me, he won't look at me, he won't even open the goddamn door."

"Potty mouth."

"Jesus Christ, Cara! I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you!" He snapped and I shrunk back towards the wall. "I care about both of you a lot. And I know you care about him a lot. I don't care if you two end whatever is going on here or if you keep it going, but I need my best friends back."

Steve turned around and disappeared back downstairs. I shoved my hair off of my scalp and took a deep breath. I needed a long, hot shower.

*****

I hate New Year's Eve. I really do. I like to call it 'Amateur Night.' All these people feel like they need to have a kick ass night and go out of their ways to get extra wasted and act extra stupid. But someone always takes one too many shots of vodka or texts one too many ex boyfriends and there's just a lot of tears.

So as much as I love parties, I was dreading New Years. I had only cut myself off from the team more, and started taking all of my work in my room instead of the lab. I barely ate or slept, and was fully aware of how much I began to resemble a piece of shit.

The evening of the New Year's party, I stood in front of my bathroom mirror, makeup brushes in hand. I was trying my best to cover the puffy, dark circles under my eyes and make my skin look less 'hello, I just rose from the dead' when someone knocked on my door. As I went to go let whoever it was in, the door opened, and Sam walked inside.

"Sup girl," he grinned and shut it behind him.

I smiled softly at him before going back into the bathroom. "Hi, Sam."

"You know you're late for the party. Like super late."

"Whatever."

He followed me, and hopped up on the counter as I continued doing my makeup. He looked at me strangely and leaned back.

"Why've you been in here all week?" He asked after a few minutes. "I've barely seen you since I came back."

I shrugged. "I've been working a lot."

"You're lying."

"No, I'm not."

He nodded persistently and I scoffed. I picked up my bronzer and began applying it as he kept staring.

"Tell me."

"Leave me alone."

He nudged me, "Tell me."

"Sam."

"Tell me."

"Shut up!"

"Ooh it's a boy!"

"I said shut up, Sam," I snapped.

"Okay, so a serious boy problem," he reasoned. "Come on, Cara, you can trust me."

I put the the makeup down and thought for a few moments. Maybe talking to someone would help. It had been a few months and I hadn't told a soul. Maybe that's why everything hurt so bad. I've been dealing with it all alone. I hesitated and looked over at him.

"You have to promise that you won't ever repeat what I'm going to tell you," I muttered.

"Cross my heart and hope to die."

"If this ever leaves this bathroom, I swear to god I'll cut your dick off."

"Damn, girl! I promise! You can trust me."

I sighed, turned, and leaned against the sink. Feeling more and more nervous, I swallowed the huge lump in my throat.

"I've been hooking up with Bucky."

His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. "What?! Wait, wait, like making out with him, hooking up, or grown up hooking up?"

I hesitated. "All the way hooking up."

"You had sex with Bucky?!"

"Keep your voice down!" I hissed.

"How many times?!" He whispered in a horrible whispering voice.

"I don't know," I said. "But then it became more than just sex, and it was so amazing and then he remembered something that he did a long time ago and he ended it and I've just been miserable."

He looked lost for words as he sat there with his mouth gaping. I sighed and turned back to the mirror, determined to make myself look presentable.

"You know, I haven't seen him since I got back either," Sam muttered.

I inhaled slowly and looked down. "I-I want to talk to him about it, but I don't think he wants to."

"Make him," Sam shrugged. "I mean if it really means that much to you."

I contemplated this, then turned and walked out of the bathroom towards my closet. Sam followed and sat on the couch as I changed into my dress for the party. When I walked back out, he zipped me up without being asked.

He held his arm out towards me after I shoved my feet into a pair of heels. "Let's hit it m'lady."

My lips curled into a small smile, and I took his arm. We left my room, and we headed towards the staircase. As we descended into the party, I scanned the room for the familiar shock of dark hair and shining metal appendage. But, I found nothing. I felt my mood take a complete turn, and my shoulders slumped. Sam noticed, and nudged me softly, making me stand up a little straighter. We made a beeline for the bar, and ordered drinks. The bartender handed me a glass of wine, and I took it eagerly. But then, I stopped.

I wasn't getting as wasted as the Christmas party tonight. I didn't want to deal with any jackasses from legal or advertising or any department; I needed a clear head.

Sam sipped his beer and tapped me on the shoulder. "Hey, who is that?"

I turned and groaned loudly. Beau and his little buddies were standing across the room, all of them staring at either my butt or my boobs.

"An asshat," I muttered and Sam laughed.

"Hey, there's Steve. YO! CAP!"

Steve appeared next to him and greeted me politely. The two men began talking about work, as always, and I sighed loudly.

Sam glanced at me and cleared his throat. "Hey, Steve, where's Barnes at?"

Steve glanced at me, then began looking around the room. "Uh, I left him talking to Bruce somewhere. I don't see him anymore....oh, wait. Buck! Bruce!"

I picked up my glass as Bruce and Bucky approached us and took a small sip. Bruce began talking to Steve and Sam, while Bucky and I stood there silently.

"Wait, so you could make my wings stronger?" Sam asked excitedly.

Bruce nodded. "Yeah, probably. Come on, let's go look at them."

Before I could say anything, the three of them left in the direction of the lab, and Bucky and I were alone. For the first time since he stormed out of my room, I really looked at him. Like me, he didn't look very good. His face was thin and pale, and dark circles were painted under his eyes. It made my heart ache.

"Bucky," I said after a few moments. "I-"

"Cara-"

"We need to talk," I cut him off. I looked around at the crowd surrounding us and grabbed his arm.