"I know a place we can go."

Everyone in the car turned to look at me. We'd been driving for a few hours in complete silence, and I could tell none of them expected me to break it.

"Where?" Steve asked eagerly.

"It's kind of a long story."

"Cara, we've got plenty of time," Sam quipped. "Does it look like we're going anywhere?"

I hesitated and looked down at my hands. "Okay. Um, well when I was eight, my parents took me to this house in Connecticut over Christmas vacation. Tony was invited to come with us, but he decided he'd rather spend it in Santorini with his girlfriend of the second. He didn't even want to hear where we were going.

"Anyway, we went and it was one of the best weeks of my life. The last day we were there, my dad surprised me by telling me he owned the house, and that we could go there whenever I wanted. He didn't deliver on that, unsurprisingly, he was always too busy. I basically forgot about the place until they died. My dad left it to me in his will."

"Hold on," Sam interjected. "Sorry to interrupt, sweetheart, but if your dad left it in his will, won't Tony know about it? He'd be able to narrow down places until he finds us."

I shook my head. "No, no, it wasn't in the actual will."

"I don't follow," Steve muttered.

I ran a hand through my hair and sighed heavily. "My parents left individual, real wills with the majority of our inheritance; these were read aloud by their lawyers at the will reading. In addition to these, they wrote Tony and I each a private letter. I don't know what was in Tony's, he doesn't know what was in mine. Mine was mostly about how proud they were of me and how they knew I was going to do great things and so on. But, they also told me that the cabin was now mine."

"Okay, so you own a cabin in Connecticut. It'll still be in your name on taxes and bank statements and stuff," Scott stated.

"Well, I told you it was a long story, so if you would stop interrupting me I was getting to that." I glared at them before continuing. "Now, this is the part where things get a little, uh, sketchy. I was given the letter on my sixteenth birthday, so six years after they died. Turns out, one of their lawyers had been holding the house in his own name during those years that I didn't know about it. He was one of my father's best friends, and after the accident, he somehow made the cabin basically disappear. I don't know how, I don't know why.

"So, the only people that knew about this cabin were this lawyer and I. A few years later, I found out that he'd been diagnosed with cancer. He died less than a year after that."

"I'm sorry," Steve said quietly.

"Thanks," I said quickly. "Anyway, I'm the only one that knows about it. It's perfectly suited for what we need, I know it."

There was silence again, and I looked around at them. I felt myself growing increasingly frustrated. I didn't want them to just sit there in silence, I wanted them to agree with me. I wanted Sam to jerk the truck around and drive for six hours until we reached the cabin. I wanted Steve to call Clint, and I wanted him to be there with Bucky when we got to the cabin.

"Jesus Christ, will you say something, please?!" I snapped to Steve.

Steve continued to think for a few moments, then looked over at me. "Yeah, I think that's our best bet. You know how to get there?"

I nodded eagerly. "Yes. I can give Sam directions."

Sam grinned back at me through the mirror and winked. "Tell me what to do, baby girl."

***

About five hours later, we had reached the cabin. It was large and secluded; just how I remembered it. Sam pulled up right next to it and put the car in park. I stumbled out eagerly. Steve followed, taking in the surroundings.

"Alright, Sam and Scott, can you do a quick perimeter check?" He asked, the two of them quickly obliging.

Once they were gone, I turned towards Steve, my hands on my hips. "Shouldn't we contact Clint?"

"We'll do that when we're one hundred percent positive that we're safe here," he replied. "You've gotta be patient."

"Steve-"

"Cara, I know you're anxious, but it's necessary for us to take all possible precautions here."

I sighed heavily, but nodded. "Yeah, I know. Wanna go check inside with me?" 

"Let's go."

We headed toward the door, and paused at the threshold. There was a small security panel next to the doorknob. Steve looked at me expectantly. I began typing.

"I change it every month," I muttered to him. "More reliable than keys."

The system emitted a quiet beep, and the door unlocked. We moved inside, guns drawn. Steve motioned for me to take the upstairs as he went deeper into the living room and kitchen. I checked all the bedrooms and bathrooms, all of them empty and exactly as they should be.

"Clear!" Steve's voice echoed from downstairs.

I tucked my gun back and walked back to the stairs. "Clear up here too."

I heard Sam and Scott enter the house, and I met them in the foyer. We all stood there in silence for a few moments, something that was becoming all too regular.

"Um, there's food in the kitchen, if anyone's hungry. I come up every now and then to restock it," I offered.

Nobody moved.

Steve cleared his throat. "I called Clint's burner and gave him the coordinates. They'll be here within a few hours."

I smiled slightly. "Good. I'm glad."

"Hey, Cara, any chance you've got a coffee maker in this place?" Sam asked, looking around the foyer.

I nodded. "Yes, in the kitchen. Help yourselves to anything."

"Oh, thank god, you're a saint," he tackled me with a bear hug and I almost fell over. "Hey, Scottie Boy, let's go."

The two of them left and walked into the kitchen. I started to follow them, but Steve reached out and took my elbow gently.

"Cara, can we talk for a minute?"

I furrowed my eyebrows and turned around. "Uh, yeah. Of course, Steve."

"Well, first, I wanted to thank you for everything you've been doing during this. I know it can't be easy."

I shrugged. "It's the least I can do."

"There's something else."

"What?"

Steve hesitated.

"Spit it out, man."

He sighed. "Bucky doesn't know you're here."

I furrowed my eyebrows at him. "What do you mean he doesn't know I'm here?"

"I couldn't risk saying it over the phone. Christ knows who could be listening. I even had to give the coordinates backwards and out of order," he explained. "I'm trying to keep everyone as safe as possible. We're operating on a need to know level."

I put my hands on my hips and stared him in the eyes. "You are the Captain, it's up to you. I'm, uh, gonna go upstairs and change my clothes, clean up a little. If anyone wants to do the same, there's clothes in every bedroom in a ton of different sizes. There should be something for everyone."

"Thanks," he muttered.

I nodded in acknowledgement and headed for the stairs.

"Hey, Cara."

I paused at the base of the stairs and cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Why the hell is this place so well equipped for us?" He asked, looking around.

I sighed, my fingers dancing along the banister next to me. "Because I had a feeling we'd be forced to come here some day. I didn't think under these circumstances, of course. I was paranoid that we would be forced to go into hiding after another New York or something. Guess I wasn't too far off, huh?"

He stared at me silently and a quick smile flashed upon his face.

"Little pessimistic, isn't it?"

I grinned. "I guess so, yeah."

"Thanks again, Cara," he said softly. "You know, uh, I, you know, you're um, very important to me, like a sister, and I, uh, am very glad that you're okay and that we got you back. And you know, I, well-"

"Aww, Steve, I love you too, buddy," I ran over and hugged him tightly, grinning the entire time. "Even with your awkward compliments."

His face turned bright red as he hugged me back. "You should go get some rest. God knows you won't want to when Buck gets here."

I nodded in agreement and went up the stairs to one of the bedrooms, saying goodbye to Steve.

It was the same bedroom I'd slept in when my parents first brought me to the house. It'd been redone in those years, but was still pretty much the same. There was a large, four poster bed in the middle of the room, a dresser with a mirror hanging above it, and an ensuite to the right of that. I opened the dresser and rummaged through until I find the pants and t-shirt I'd been looking for. I pulled them on quickly, tossing the clothes I'd been wearing onto a chair in the corner.

I looked over at the bed longingly. It seemed to be calling my name. Before I knew it, I was laying down on the mountain of pillows, my feet dangling off the edge. Within moments, I was fast asleep.

*****

I woke with a start when I heard a car engine outside my window. A thin layer of sweat covered my body, and my breathing was heavy. I'd had a dream. A really, really, vivid one. But, I could barely remember it. The same thing had happened sporadically during the past week, and no matter how hard I tried, I could never remember more than a few moments of the dream.

The slamming of a car door brought me back to reality. I stumbled off the bed and towards the door. I tore down the hallway and stairs, ripping open the front door and running down into the lawn. Sam, Scott, and Steve stood near the driveway, where another pickup truck was parked. A shock of dark hair caught my attention, and my pace quickened. His eyes flicked away from the ensuing conversation and up to mine. They widened, and he immediately began running towards me.

Bucky caught me in a massive hug as I reached him, his arms tighter around my waist than they'd ever been before. His sweater smelled like mint toothpaste and cologne, like he always did, and his stubble felt rough against my face. The familiarity of it all was almost overwhelming. The dam that had been holding back all my emotions for the past week suddenly burst, and I began crying into his shoulder. Bucky moved his hands from my waist to my face, and looked down at me concernedly.

"Don't cry, please, don't cry," he whispered, stroking my cheek with his thumb. "Baby, what's wrong?"

I put my hands on top of his wrists and bit my lip slightly. "Nothing's wrong. I'm just really, really happy to see you."

"They didn't tell me you were here," he muttered, "didn't even tell me they were going to get you."

"I know. We just have to play it safe. Steve couldn't risk it."

"Of course," he nodded. "How are you? What happened to your face?"

He touched the nasty bruise that was forming under my eye softly and I flinched. His eyebrows knit together and he put his hands on his hips.

"Cara, what happened?"

I hesitated, not wanting him to know what Reid had done. Bucky would kill him. Literally kill him. I glanced over at the others, who were all watching us. When they saw me look at them, they quickly averted their eyes and began talking very loudly to one another as if they hadn't been watching us in complete silence. I looked back to Bucky. He rose his eyebrows at me and I sighed.

"Reid has a bit of a...temper and did not find my sarcasm as, well, charming as some others do," I muttered.

Bucky looked like he might explode. "Reid did this?!"

"Yes, but it's fine-"

"It's not fine, Cara!" He yelled. "I swear to god, I'm going to kill that suit wearing piece of shit. For Christ's sake, he could've killed you!"

"But he didn't," I said sharply, putting my hand on his cheek. "Bucky, I'm fine. I'll be fine. Bruises fade, concussions wear off-"

"You have a concussion?!"

"My point is," I cut him off, "that it doesn't matter what happened. I'm here now, you're here now, and we're together. That's all that matters to me."

He was silent for a few moments. I stepped closer to him, so our chests were touching. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against mine.

"I missed you," he whispered, "so much."

I smiled at him, my eyes feeling wet again. "I love you."

"I love you, Cara."

He kissed me softly, yet passionately, as my fingers habitually entangled themselves in his hair.

"Hey! That was really cute and everything, but if this whole reuniting thing goes much farther it's going to be very uncomfortable for the rest of us," Clint called, starting to walk towards the house. "And I don't know about the rest of you, but I could really use a drink."