Tony scoffed helplessly. He paced before forcing himself to stand still to be heard, despite the mounting anxious energy thrumming through him.

"Am I speaking another language? I wasn't going to just not talk about it, a-alright?" Tony held out a hand, as if defend himself against further accusation. "I just--"

His fingers trembled. A flash of Bucky's face was at the end of his palm.

Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

'I'm past this.'

He turned tail and took cover behind what little the fire and the pot had to offer, crouching low to the ground.

'I'm past this. I'm fucking past this. This isn't happening right now.'