CHAPTER SEVEN
CONFLICT

    THE SNORING WAS UNBEARABLE. Bruce Banner's eyes fluttered open as Thor's guttural snores grew louder and louder. His fingers tightened around the seams of a beige cushion as he sat up. Burying his head into it, Bruce stood up from his sleeping spot, and stepped over the sleeping figure of his friend.

    It was morning. He could hear the sweet calls of birds outside, and soft light oozed through the windows and warmed his skin. Stretching his stiff neck from side to side, Bruce lumbered out of the lounge and into the kitchen, following the heady scent of freshly brewed coffee. He was never a morning person. Coffee pried the grip of sleep from his eyes and shoulders, and it soothed his nerves to make the day ahead more bearable.

    A snore slithered into the hall as Bruce approached the kitchen entrance. He frowned, rubbing his eyes fervently. He just wanted to sip coffee in some peace and quiet. Popping his head into the kitchen, Bruce's honey brown eyes locked onto the sleeping figure of Bucky. One hand limp at his side, the other hand gripped the handle of the coffee pot; Bucky was asleep with his face planted firmly on the surface of the wooden table, his hair a knotted curtain on his face.

    Bruce never liked to admit it, but their friend group had its own smaller groups within it. For the most part, Bruce got along with everyone. He had his own special bond with Clint, Natasha was always there for him, he was closer to Thor than anyone else, and he and Tony were ready to take on the world as mad scientists. The only person that evaded him was Bucky. It wasn't that they weren't friends, they were. But it was only by association. Casual conversations here and there, Bruce never felt like he knew Bucky well enough.

    Quietly, Bruce edged himself towards Bucky's sleeping form. He was determined. He wanted the coffee pot, and he was going to have it. With the precision and pace of a surgeon, Bruce's fingers slowly curled around the top of the pot, his other hand light on the back of Bucky's wrist. He pulled; Bucky grumbled and pulled the pot closer. Bruce tried again, and Bucky's eyes flew open, a confused groan tumbling from his lips. Something flew to the floor with a sharp clang, Bucky's chair skidded back, shock striking his face.

    "Sorry, I just wanted the coffee pot," Bruce said with a flush to his cheeks as he pulled the pot towards him and took a few steps back. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

    Bucky nodded, his once heavy breathing more even as he looked around. He bent down and picked up a knife, to which Bruce raised a skeptical eyebrow, curious and concerned.

    "Didn't sleep well?"

    "Something like that," Bucky replied and placed the knife back onto the table. Are the others up yet?"

    "No," Bruce replied. They stood together in uncomfortable silence, the heat from the coffee seeping passed Bruce's oversized sweater and onto his chest. "Do you maybe –"

    "Don't mind me," Bucky cut in quickly and slid back into the chair. He scratched the back of his head and gestured to the opposite chair. "I mean, have some coffee, in fact I think I'll have another cup."

    Bruce nodded thankfully and took a seat. Pouring two cups of coffee, one black for Bucky, and one with cream and extra sugar for himself, he leaned back into his chair and took a sip. A content sigh drifted out of his mouth as his taste buds celebrated the bitter sweet flavor, and his body lapped up the buzz of it.

    Minutes crept by and Bruce decided to glance away from the window holding a lush landscape, and back to Bucky who was studying his coffee. This was his chance to finally set things straight with the aloof man, but Bruce's mind grew blank when he tried to formulate questions or topics of conversations.

    "Aw, coffee."

    Clint came waddling into the kitchen, his hair slicked to his forehead, one eye closed, the other barely open. Sauce and cheese from pizza the previous night clung to his shirt as pulled out a chair and tumbled into it, barely recognizing his two friends.

    Bruce sent out a silent prayer of thanks that the situation was cut short. He stood up and rummaged around the kitchen for another mug. "Like always, Clint?"

    "You bet," Clint mumbled, planting his elbows onto the table and fixing Bucky with a soured look. "You look like shit."

    Bucky rolled his eyes, though a grin tugged his lips upwards. "That's rich coming from you."

    "Hm, all I remember from last night is Thor bringing out the beer," Clint said as he accepted the cup from Bruce and took a sip. He closed his eyes. "It's all a colorful blur from that point on."

    "I'm so glad I didn't drink, because I got to see you be a dumbass," Bucky snickered into his cup. "More than usual."

    Bruce rubbed his temples. He didn't drink much, but his stomach was still irritated from the alcohol – queasy and sore. "I remember you getting onto the dining table at one point."

    "No, that was Thor," Bucky corrected, "him and Steve got into some argument over something stupid, so Thor thought jumping onto the table was the only way to make his point."

    In one long gulp, Clint emptied out his cup and carelessly plopped it onto the table. "Barnes, I swear to God, if you tell anyone about our drunken escapades."

    "Your threats are weak, Barton," Bucky drawled. "I have so much shit to blackmail you with."

    Bruce's shoulders relaxed, the tension from earlier drained away as he found comfort in the easy going conversation. "I still remember that one time you and Matt–"

    "O–kay, enough, enough." Clint pulled his hands up in defense, chuckling softly. "I'm trying to forget that time."

    "It's forever burned in our memories," Bucky remarked, somewhat disgustedly by the curl of his lips and squint of his eyes.

    "Heh, sorry." Clint rubbed his shoulder and leaned back on his chair. "Hey, should we make breakfast for everyone before they wake up?"

    "Yeah! I'm sure Tony would appreciate it," Bruce nodded, eager to make the trip something good for his friend.

    "Before we do that, can I speak to you privately, Clint?" Bucky asked, the enthusiasm slipping from his eyes. He stood to his full height and shifted on his feet, waiting for Clint's answer.

    Bruce's heart dipped. Of course he wasn't important enough to share anything with.

    Clint must have noticed the defeated expression because he slid a hand behind Bruce's chair and fixed Bucky with a smile. "I'm sure Bruce won't make a big deal about anything. I mean c'mon, we haven't seen you in two years man, what could be such a big secret? We're all friends here."

    "Right, we are" the words felt empty coming from Bucky's mouth. He glanced up at the ceiling. The sound of running water could be heard, and Bruce summed it coming from Tony's room. "Let's move outside for this."

    Bruce and Clint shared a quizzical look with each other before getting up and following Bucky's stiff movements. They passed the lounge, where Thor and Steve were still fast asleep, and stepped into the warm summer light outside.

    Clint stretched and closed his eyes, basking in the light like a cat. "So, what's up?"

    Bucky's eyes skittered back and forth from the woods to Bruce and Clint. His mouth opened to speak, but instead he exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. "I met this girl, Theresa, real sweet. She had an ex problem, wanted me to sort it out, so I did."

    "Uh huh," Bruce nodded slowly to each word, patiently waiting for him to elaborate.

    "The ex – Martin – didn't take too kindly too my uh, words, and he followed me here. To Blackwood." Bucky swallowed, his fingers curling into fists. "He threatened me, you guys too. Shit, he was here last night too."

    Bruce's eyes widened. A cold grip squeezed his chest as fear seeped into him. "Here? What did he say?"

    "Nothing, he ran off before I could do anything."

    "Jesus, Bucky. You didn't think to mention this to us before?"

    Bucky folded his arms across his chest and took a step back. "I didn't want to raise any alarm; you know how important this is for Tony."

    Indignantly, Bruce let out a bitter chuckle. "You don't get to pull that card. You went off grid for two years. You weren't here for him."

    "I was trying to protect all of you," Bucky snapped, annoyance shining in his eyes. "I knew I shouldn't have told you."

    "Wait, Bruce is right." Clint's face was blank; his nostrils lightly flared betraying how he truly felt. "What the hell, Barnes? Some psycho is running around out here and you wait till now to tell us? Fuck, man. Tasha is with us. Tony's still dealing with the loss of his parents. We haven't been the same since that night, and now when we're finally back together?"

    "I was going to tell you, yesterday. But – look, we were having so much fun, I missed that feeling. I didn't want to ruin it," Bucky defended. He rubbed his face harshly. "I can fix this. I saw the police department yesterday, and I'm going down there today but I need you to cover for me. No one can know, especially Steve."

    Clint's lips twitched upwards into a disbelieving smile. "You can't do this. You can't keep running off and taking the whole world on."

    "Are you not listening to me?"

    "I am but would it have killed you to reach out?" Clint snapped, his face contorting angrily. "I had to hear from Steve if you were alright. I didn't know where you were, if you were even alive or dead in some ditch somewhere. You just vanished from our lives."

    Bruce knew this outburst was inevitable. Everything was just too much. They had never really moved on from the fracture, the sudden explosion that tore at their friendships. The trip wasn't just for Tony, it was for all of them.

    "I couldn't – I had something going on." Bucky's voice was quiet now, his posture defeated and caving in on itself as if he were shielding himself. "I just needed to be away. That day messed with us all."

    At his words, the match was lit and anger ignited inside Bruce's chest like a wildfire, boiling his blood and scorching his limbs. "You weren't there for the funeral. You didn't call, or text. He waited for you, you know." A sound echoed from the house and Bruce stilled, before saying in a hushed voice, "What could have been more important that you couldn't support him through the worst day of his life?"

    "We didn't even know how to reach out to you, to invite you for this trip. Just pass a message to Steve and hope he relays it," Clint added, his voice deep and raw, "You left us. We lost Tony, and we lost you, too."

    "I'm sorry," Bucky whimpered out the words, his voice carrying such pain that Bruce almost wanted to set aside his anger and comfort him. "I broke, I don't know. I just needed to get away. I hated it, but Clint you have to believe me, I wouldn't have left unless I needed to."

    Clint looked away, his head held up high as he took in deep breaths. Bruce stumbled back, needing to calm himself. He couldn't look at Bucky. He didn't have the same relationship with him that Clint did. He wasn't as forgiving. He was bitter and begrudging. He never wanted all the emotions to boil to the surface, but they did, and it was too much.

    "Look, can we please just set this aside for a minute, and agree that Martin is more important in dealing with?"

    "You report him to the police, today," Clint's words tumbled out in quick bursts. "If he's not taken cared of then we're telling the rest of the group tomorrow. Bruce?"

    Bruce nodded curtly, his eyes still not meeting Bucky.

"Thank you, I owe you both. I'll need an excuse to head down to town without anyone."

    "I have something in mind." Clint shuffled towards Bruce and slung a heavy arm around his shoulders. "Ready for some ghost hunting?"

    Bruce hesitated. He could sense the false enthusiasm coming from Clint's words. Under other circumstances, the premise of their old adventures would've excited them both. Now it was to calm their thoughts. "Anything to get my mind off this."

Author's note
This 'argument' is born from Clint caring for Bucky's wellbeing, and Bruce being hurt on behalf of Tony. Both of them, and Bucky, have fair points, but it's just one of those things that when left for too long, bubbles up and spews out --- there's no helping it. So please don't hate on either of them in this chapter, friends fight sometimes and it's because of a valid point that needs to be brought up.