Accidents Happen

No One Like You

Five days. Four nights. 14 hours. That's how long it had been since Bucky left on his first mission with Steve and Tony. Not that you were counting or anything. All seemed to be going well, from what little communication you had with Bucky. Before he left, you had spent a full hour schooling him on how to use his cell phone. The touch screen still gave him trouble, what with only one flesh hand, but he grew more used to it. You showed him how to take a photo and send it. He still pressed the record button on accident sometimes, but that only resulted in you receiving videos a few seconds long ending in a string of curse words from him once he realized it. Never failed to make you smile.

He sent a few slightly unfocused photos the first day, more like "road trip" pics: Bucky's selfie with Steve sleeping with his mouth open in the background, Tony photobombing a pic of Bucky taken by Steve, and then several in succession of Tony playing keep-away with Bucky's phone while he documented it. Communication diminished to the occasional text once the actual mission began.

Miss u.

Tony snores.

*heart emoji*

Wish I could kiss u goodnight.

It all made you smile and eased your worry slightly, but the worst was finding ways to occupy yourself in the meantime.

The first few days were rough, mostly because your ribs were still injured, leaving you unable to train with the rest of the team. "Resting up" and "healing" was all you were supposed to do, which drove you absolutely crazy. You spent those days trying to convince Nat to watch countless chick flicks with you and whining at Sam to play card games, which he hated since you beat him every time. You even went into a baking frenzy one day making dozens of cookies which you then forced everyone to eat.

"Man, I never thought I would say this, but I can't wait for your boyfriend to get back so he can deal with your craziness, not me," declared Sam as you whipped him once again at Phase 10.

"Shut up and eat your cookies, Wilson. Those ones are Dark Chocolate Pistachio Sea Salt, my personal favorite."

Sam groaned, patting his stomach, "I'm all cookie'd out, Y/N, If I eat any more, my wings won't lift me. Speaking of which, I'm gonna head down to the gym to work all your baked goods off."

"I'll join you," piped in Natasha.

"Aw, come on, guys!! Doc won't let me in the gym for at least two days!!"

"Sorry, Y/N. Maybe Clint is masochistic enough to play you in cards!"

The sandy-haired archer had just come around the corner, focused on something on his phone. His eyes grew wide when he saw you walking his direction, wide smile on your face.

"Heeeyyyy Clint, you wanna play a game?"

"Uh...I don't, um..." he backed away, acting as if you might pounce on him and force him to play.

"WHAT WAS THAT, NAT? I'M COMING!" he yelled, running after the pair of retreating Avengers.

"Pff. Coward," you said to yourself, plopping down on the couch and grabbing the remote. Netflix to the rescue!

————

Nights were even harder, since sleep seemed to evade you completely at first. You started taking long walks through the tower in the dark and silence, listening to the huffs and pings the building emitted that were normally covered by the sound of activity during the day. On the 5th night, your feet led you up to the 19th floor, which was normally used for Tony's elaborate parties but now sat empty and cavernous. There was a fully-stocked wet bar along the far wall, a large dance floor in the center with a stage attached for a live band at times, and throughout the room there were groups of couches and chairs, all expensive and plush.