"Oh, damn!" Clint winces as he watches Bucky blindly stumble back off the mat, away from the young man who just nailed him with a round kick to the face. "Shit, Malcom," he says to the new recruit as he tries to tamp down the chuckle rising in his throat. "That's probably the last nose you want to break around here."

The man's eyes are wide with terror, especially once Bucky turns on him from the side of the mat. "I… I…" he stammers out, holding his hands up in front him in a defensive posture. "I'm so sorry."

Bucky stares at him through water-logged eyes. "Don't," he says, voice deep and nasal. He reaches up and pinches the bridge of his nose before giving it a sharp twist. A sickening crack-pop reverberates through their corner of the training gym, causing Malcom to pale even further. "Don't apologize."

"But… I…" The young blond – like most of the recruits – has been told time and again by their often menacing mentor not to pull his punches. But even so… the thought of actually making the Winter Soldier bleed is enough to make the kid nearly piss himself. "I…"

Clint chokes on a laugh as Malcom continues to sputter. "You…" he says, elongating the word to try and get him to finish the thought.

"You're done," Bucky says simply, still staring at the man with dark, pained eyes. "No more training today."

Malcom nods spastically and almost trips over his own feet as he turns and sprints out of the gym. Bucky watches as he goes, unsure if the fact that the kid is so terrified of him annoys him or delights him.

"Oh," Clint howls from behind. "That was amazing!"

He turns to see the archer doubled over, laughing so hard he's nearly crying. "It's not that funny," he mutters, moving over to the bench in search of a towel. He grabs a shirt instead – he's pretty sure it's Malcom's shirt, actually – and he presses it to his nose to stanch the flow of blood.

"It was hilarious," he tells him as he tries to calm his breathing. "Did you see his face?"

Bucky nods. "Yeah, I saw it."

"Whew!" Clint plops down on the bench next to him and lets out a long sigh followed by just one more chuckle. He turns to the bleeding man to his left. "You want me to escort you to medical?" he asks with a wink.

"Now that would be hilarious."

"Well, I can see if our team doctor will make a house call," he intones. "Should be easy enough to get her to do it, considering she's already in your house."

Bucky pulls away the shirt and sees that most of the bleeding has already stopped. But he's sure his face is going to look like hell for at least the rest of the day. "Yeah, right." He winces as he pokes at the swollen flesh between his eyes. "I gotta think of something to do to keep me out of the apartment 'til this starts to heal."

Clint makes a tsk tsk and shakes his head. "Keeping secrets," he mocks. "I expected more from you, Sarge."

Bucky gives him a threatening stare, made all the more intimidating by his bruised and blood-stained face. "She doesn't need to worry about something that'll be healed in a day," he says, tone sharp.

He throws his hands up in mock surrender – "If you say so." – and lets out a light laugh. "I think you're just scared she'll yell at you for trying to fix it yourself."

"You're damn right, I am," he mutters absently.

The two men sit in silence for a long moment before Clint asks, "How are things going, anyway?" Bucky turns to him and cocks a single, questioning eyebrow. "It's been a couple weeks since you guys met with… what's his name? The teacher…"

"Professor," he corrects. "Xavier."

"Right. Yeah." He looks over at Bucky and connects eyes with him. "Still no decision?"

He drops his gaze almost immediately, looking down at the floor when he solemnly admits, "No."

Clint nods to himself. "Yeah, I figured. It's a hell of a thing to have to decide, I guess." It's obvious that he's trying to entice Bucky into talking about their current conundrum. "I mean, do you choose to have your memories wiped – again – just so you can move on with this life you've built?" Bucky inadvertently shudders at the question, but says nothing in response, continuing to train his gaze on the floor. "Or do you get your memories back, your life back… even if it ends up changing everything you thought you knew about yourself?"

Bucky shakes his head. "Don't know," he utters, words clipped short. "Not my decision to make."

"Yeah, but you've been thinking about it," Clint almost hums out. At that, Bucky finally looks up at him, his eyes betraying only a hint of surprise. Clint raises his brows. "You're sure as hell thinking about something," he says. "I've never seen you that distracted before." He motions towards the mat in front of them, the one still slick with sweat and drops of blood. "That wasn't even a particularly good move," he snorts out.

Bucky's brow furrows. "It was a solid kick."

"Solid maybe. But no way would you have missed blocking that if you'd been paying attention."

He thinks about arguing, even opens his mouth to do so, but stops when he realizes that there's really no point. Clint's right. It's obvious as hell that he was distracted out there. He drops his head and runs his fingers through his hair. "I'm just tired of… of living in limbo," he admits with an exhausted sigh.

"You know what I think?" Clint asks, an odd lilt to his voice. Bucky says nothing, just raises an eyebrow and waits for him to go on. "I think you two need a break. A break from this place." He looks around the giant training center, eyes tracking out the wall of windows to take in the stark, cold grounds leading to the barren trees beyond. "Doc's been holed up in that apartment for weeks. And you've been doing nothing but training these noobs and worrying about her. You two need to get away. Clear your heads."

"She's still on crutches." He protests weakly. "She's not even supposed to be putting any weight on that leg yet. The whole reason she's in the apartment is because she's supposed to be taking it easy."

Clint snorts again. "I saw her hobble into her office just yesterday." Bucky's eyes widen in surprise. "Do not tell her I ratted her out."

He lets out a long sigh. "The point is, now isn't exactly the best time for a vacation."

Clint reminds him that it's almost Christmas, and that is not the time of year to sit around being miserable, wandering aimlessly around the empty compound, pondering impossible decisions. It's the time of year to be happy – or at least learn how to fake being happy – with family.

Bucky gives him a suspicious look.

"Come home with me," he says with a genuine smile. "Come stay at my place for the holidays. It'll be good. It'll get you two out of New York, out of the compound… out of your own heads. C'mon! I'm telling you, a good old fashioned Barton Christmas is exactly what you and Doc need."

"We're not going to intrude on your holiday, Clint," he says with an almost smug smirk. "Like you just said, Christmas is for family."

He scoffs loudly. "Yeah, I know. And that's just what you are. Besides, it's just as much Laura's idea as it is mine – though I'm taking credit for it. But she's been wanting to see Doc again, especially since the accident." He pauses and lets out a low breath, his expression turning almost grave. "I really think it'd be good for her," he says in a serious tone. "Good for both of you."

Bucky shakes his head absently. "I don't know."

"C'mon, Sarge," he says, dropping a palm to the man's shoulder and giving him a sharp shake. "Get some… normalcy. Haven't you had enough of this superhero life for a bit?"

He gnaws at his bottom lip. "Steve did say that he and Romanov might still be gone on their recon mission through the holidays." Clint wiggles his eyebrows at him, almost seething with excitement, and Bucky can't help but smile at his childlike demeanor. "I'll talk to Tessa. If she's up for it…"

He bounces up from the bench. "I'll tell Laura to make up the guestroom," he shoots out as he turns on a heel and races for the door.

And so begins the third part of the Supernova Series. This story will be a bit shorter... more of an interlude. And while there's bound to be some angst, I'm feeling the need for a little fluff right about now, so be prepared for that.

Disclaimer: I own none of the MCU.