Warning that spoilers for Age of Ultron lay ahead. Nothing too spoilery yet, and I don't think there's anything not covered by the trailer until the very last paragraph, so if you want to skip that part until you've seen the movie, it won't hurt. But, next chapter's gonna be all kinds of more spoilery because I've decided to incorporate the general AOU storyline (without some things like, obviously, Bruce/Nat) here as opposed to totally ignoring it, which had been my plan all along lol. So, sorry about the spoilers but... blame my sudden need to get my metaphorical hands on new characters from the movie lol.

A few days after the month anniversary of Summer's accident, she was finally getting the green light to go home. At long last, after what felt like the longest four weeks of her life, the hospital was finally going into her rearview mirror.

It was late morning and she was waiting on just one last visit from the doctor when she began practicing using her shiny new crutches. She had been doing this for a few days, but figuring out how to get around on them and using muscles that had gotten zero exercise or usage for a whole month was proving quite challenging. At first, getting up and getting across the room was enough to leave her exhausted, and while now she could do a few laps without collapsing, it was still frustrating. It also hurt.

"Need to sit down yet?" Natasha asked, walking beside her and noticing how she'd actually broken a sweat above her brow.

"Probably," Summer sighed, though she kept moving forward. The brace on her left leg made it all the more awkward. "But I really need to get used to this and this is the only way."

"Don't push yourself too hard," Natasha replied. "You'll have plenty of help back home. You don't need to try to speed anything up."

Stopping and then turning back towards the bed, Summer looked at her wearily and said, "I know, and I'm gonna hate it. Not the having help thing, because obviously I love all of you even more after all this and all everybody's done for me, but I hate needing the help. I hate asking for it even more."

"Why?"

She frowned and then resumed her "walking". "Really stupid reasons you would just laugh at."

"I wouldn't laugh," Natasha replied. "I don't laugh at people who've been hurt before by people they trusted."

Summer stopped moving and looked at the other woman in quiet confusion. "... But I haven't... did Bucky tell you stuff, or..."

Natasha shook her head. "No, he hasn't. But one of my skills is reading people, figuring them out. It's second nature now and I do it without even knowing sometimes."

Summer stared for another moment before making it the rest of the way to the bed. Nat helped her sit down and leaned the crutches against the foot of the bed as Summer asked, "So... what do you think my story is, then?"

"Well," Natasha began, "you lived alone in the middle of nowhere with a son who has no trace of a father. It's easy to tell that whoever helped conceive him isn't missed. You have trust issues. You're shocked when people show that they care about you, and you have a hard time accepting help or kindness. You and Barnes waited an impressively long time to have sex even though you didn't consider his arm or his strength to be a real threat to you. I've heard him stress multiple times on unrelated issues that he never wants to do anything without your consent if it involves you."

Summer sighed and muttered, "And here I always took pride in thinking that now nobody would be able to tell by looking at me what I've been through."

"Summer," Natasha said with a slight grin, "I outsmarted a god. Trust me, not many others would know."

She smiled back briefly but then frowned again as she said, "For the longest time I felt like I had a scarlet letter on my head or something. Like everybody would look at me and see 'hi, I'm a weak, stupid victim' written on my forehead. Instead they all just thought I was a pregnant teenage slut. I couldn't figure out which one was worse."

"Is that how David happened?"

Summer nodded. "Yep. My first time was with a drunk idiot boyfriend who almost suffocated me to death in the process. And the thing is," she chuckled even though it wasn't funny, "I'm still finding out just how he abusive he was to me. There were so many little things that I never noticed or just ignored, or defended. And now, being with Bucky and seeing how he treats me, and how Steve treats you..." she shook her head. "Now I can see all the signs that I should have seen back then."

"That's how it works," Natasha replied. "It doesn't make you stupid. It makes you human."

Summer smiled at the other woman's attempt to make her feel better, and then she said, "You know what I just remembered the other day? I broke my arm back when I was still with the guy. Which was actually kind of his fault, but anyway, when I was recovering and had my arm in a sling and stuff, I'd ask him for help with certain things and he'd say things like 'your legs aren't broken' and 'you know you didn't break both your arms'. And I think that's one of the reasons why I hate asking for help still. Some stupid part of me keeps expecting to hear something like that."

"Stop calling yourself stupid," Natasha replied. "None of this makes you stupid."

"I don't know," Summer said, raising her eyebrows in recollection. "He wouldn't get up to help me fix something to eat but then when he'd harass me about giving him favors I'd give in. He literally said one time 'you fell and hit your arm, not your mouth' and I actually gave in instead of punching him in the face."

As Summer marveled at how naive her younger self had been, Natasha shook her head and said, "I have stories too. Enough to fill up an entire bookshelf, and I'm barely in my thirties. I've known men like that. I also know how hard it is to let someone in when you don't trust anyone."

"By someone, do you mean Steve?" Summer asked with a smile.

She nodded, smiling back a little. "That's a story. Good one, though. He was persistent. I kept telling him that he was insane and it would just cause a disaster, but once he puts his mind to something... he can be pretty convincing."

Summer chuckled. "Oh I bet. Can I ask you something?" When Natasha nodded, she asked, "Were you really his first?"

"I was," she replied, smirking down at her hands. "It was a very gradual thing. He was my first for some things too, just... different things. It was all extremely unexpected."

Summer smiled, then looked wistfully ahead as she said, "I wish Bucky had been my first. I mean, I can't imagine life without David, but if I could just go back and change how I had him..."

"Was that your only time, until you met Barnes?" When Summer nodded, Natasha looked at her quite seriously and said, "Then he was your real first time. Sex is more than biology and just the act of it. What happened to you produced a child, but it wasn't something you chose to give to someone. The first time that it's your choice, when you want it and want to give yourself to someone - that's when it counts."

"... Wow," Summer marveled. "I've never heard it put that way before."

"Well, there's a big difference between being forced or just scratching an itch and then..."

"Making love?" she guessed.

"Yeah," Natasha said thoughtfully. "But it's not just that. It can be rough and crazy slamming into walls and the floor, but when you really love the person... it's still special."

Summer sighed and nodded her full agreement. "Very true." Then she side-eyed Nat and asked, "Would you think I'm a total weirdo if I sort of wanted you to elaborate?"

She laughed and shook her head. "No. But I'm not sure you could handle it."

"I so could," Summer argued. "Look at who I'm with. I bet my stories could compete with yours, if not top them. I mean, Bucky's arm vibrates. And one time we pretended he was a professor and I was a student and it was awesome."

Nat raised her eyebrows briefly. "Yeah, that's not bad, I'll admit." Then she thought for a moment and said, "Steve's tongue is the best I've ever had and I literally taught him how to use it. Now he never wants to stop, so he usually doesn't."

Summer nearly fell off the bed. "Well, damn."

"Yeah. And just recently I found out that someone has been teaching him how to talk dirty in Russian. That was... a nice surprise."

Summer let her jaw drop a little, and she grinned as she imagined Bucky slowly sounding out a word and having Steve repeat it until he got it. Being a fly on the wall for that would have been fantastic.

"He can be very slow and sweet, and I love it. Then other times..." She smirked and then glanced at Summer before noting, "You're not trying to top any of this."

"Yeah, sorry, I'm just... like holy super soldier sex, Batman!"

"You would know," Natasha chuckled.

"Yeah," she sighed, "but probably not for while now. I've felt too much like crap this last month to really be dying deprived yet, but it'll probably kick in soon now that I'll be home."

"Well, you'll get there," Natasha assured her. "I just can't say enough - don't push yourself too hard. Either with that, or with walking. You have the rest of your life to walk and dance and other things again. Let yourself heal."

Summer sighed a little but nodded anyway. "Seriously, you should write a book. Words of Wisdom by the Widow. Instant bestseller."

Natasha scoffed and laughed at the same time. "Well, at least I've got one fan."

Summer nodded, smiling back. "Die-hard."


After rinsing out the bowl that David had eaten his cereal out of, Bucky opened up the dishwasher and immediately groaned in annoyance.

"Why am I the only one in this damn building who knows how to load a dishwasher," he grumbled to himself, pulling out the top rack and flipping over badly placed cups and bowls that otherwise never would have gotten clean.

"That's because Summer taught you how," Steve answered helpfully, appearing to his left and getting out a cup from one of the cabinets.

Bucky glanced behind his shoulder at Steve before finishing his task and saying, "Maybe she needs to teach everyone how because this is ridiculous."

"I think it's Darcy," Steve replied. "She tries."

Bucky then closed the dishwasher and gave Steve a weary look. "Did you taste that spaghetti she tried to make last time she was here?"

Steve shuddered a little and nodded. "Yeah. Like I said, she tries. Good thing we've got Sam."

Sam was the reason why nobody had gone starving in Summer's absence. He gladly took over keeping the kitchen stocked and was actually quite the cook, good enough that even David, who could be picky, never put up a fight when it came to his dinners. Sam's only complaints usually had to do with the gigantic portions he had to make to feed everybody and their "stupid unnaturally huge appetites - how many calories do you people need?"

Turning on the dishwasher, Bucky glanced at David as he left the table and started heading towards his room down the hallway, probably to get ready to leave for the hospital. The kid knew the routine very well by now. Then Bucky turned back to Steve and noticed that he was dressed like he normally was before donning his suit for a mission - he had a specific kind of shirt he wore underneath it that Bucky liked to point out looked two sizes too small whenever he saw it on him.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, and Steve nodded.

"We got a lead on Strucker. We head out in an hour."

Of course. This was actually the mission that Bucky had been waiting for, the thing that their previous smaller raids had been working towards. And as fate would have it, Bucky would have to sit it out, thanks to the one part of his life that was more important than his need for revenge against HYDRA.

Steve patted his shoulder and said, "I'm sorry. It came together very quickly and if we wait he'll move again."

Bucky nodded. "Yeah. I understand." Then he paused and said, "Keep me updated, I guess."

"Of course," Steve replied. "And if it ends up being me who captures him, I'll make sure he gets at least one good hit from my shield for you."

Bucky nodded, smiling slightly. "A punch to the face will work too. Not that I hate him anymore than anyone else from HYDRA. I don't think I ever met him, but..."

"... But he's the last major player that we know of," Steve finished for him. "I know. I get it."

Then, David came strolling out of the hallway, dressed for the day and carrying his backpack on his shoulders. He looked particularly happy as he stood in front of Bucky expectantly and smiled up at him.

"Summer's coming home today, right?" Steve asked.

"Supposed to," Bucky replied, grinning down at the kid. "I'm headed there now."

Steve nodded. "All right, well, we'll be back soon. Tell her we'll have a welcome home party when we get back."

Bucky returned Steve's smile and then nodded, gesturing to David to head towards the elevator. Then as he followed after the boy, he turned back around and said, "Hey, bring me back a souvenir or something."

"Like what? Strucker's head?" Steve chuckled.

He shook his head and shrugged. "Maybe not a head, but the only thing HYDRA ever got right was their weapons, so if you see anything that you think I might like..."

Steve chuckled and shook his head. "I'll keep an eye out."

"Thanks," Bucky replied before walking into the elevator.

He wasn't happy about missing the fight, but at the same time, he had no doubt that he was where he needed to be. He had the rest of his life to fight and to satisfy his need to make up for his past and pay back what had been dealt to him, but he had already won half the battle by building an actual life for himself. And at the moment, the most important part of that life was taking care of Summer and taking care of her son while she couldn't.

He'd just have to be satisfied with the punches Steve threw on his behalf.


The minute that Bucky told her what he was missing in order to stay behind with her and David, Summer immediately felt like a giant piece of crap.

"I'm sorry," she said, sitting up in the hospital bed and searching Bucky's face for signs of resentment as he sat next to her in his usual seat. She didn't find any, but it didn't stop her from feeling quite guilty. "If someone had told me beforehand, maybe I could have had Darcy or someone watch David while you went with everybody."

Bucky shook his head and replied, "I wouldn't have gone, Summer. It's in Europe and I'm not gonna travel that far away from you right now, for anything."

"But... I know what these missions mean to you, and if this really is the big one -"

"You mean more," he interrupted quietly. Then he gestured to the little boy currently curled up at her side in the tiny hospital bed with his tablet. "And so does he."

And just like that, she was on the verge of crying, and she couldn't even blame it on the painkillers, since she had been weaned off the strong stuff. But she held back the tears - barely - and instead reached towards him with her hand, and when he took it, she said quietly, "You have no idea how much that means to me. But I want you to have what you want, too. I don't want to hold you back, or..."

"You're not," he assured her. "It's my choice, Summer. I'm here because I want to be."

She believed him, but it was hard not to feel a little guilty at the same time. If she just hadn't lingered that extra second in the damn crosswalk...

"Okay," she finally said, pulling the hospital blanket further up and over herself, suddenly feeling cold. David kicked off the part that covered him in the process, apparently thinking it was quite toasty already, and she gave Bucky's hand a small squeeze as she said, "I hope I get back on my feet sooner than they're saying I will."

"At least you're going home today," he said with a small smile. "That's the first step, right?"

She smiled and nodded back. "Yeah. I can't wait to be back in my own bed. And bathroom. And shower. Though you'll have to help me with that one."

"Gladly," he grinned, and while she couldn't understand how he still found her appealing after the last month, she was eternally grateful for it. Then again, if the roles had been reversed, she would still find him every bit as attractive and would be greatly looking forward to the shower thing herself.

Then she burrowed deeper into the covers. "Is it freezing in here or is it just me?"

"I think it's you," he shrugged.

She sighed and curled her toes under the blanket, trying to ignore the sudden chill. Then there was a knock at the door, and she brightened up, knowing this should be the doctor and that meant going home very soon.

"Hello, hello," her doctor greeted, a different one from the one who had initially cared for her in the ICU. This one specialized in her kinds of injuries and was younger, reminding her of a less ginger version of her brother. "Ready to go home?"

"Like two weeks ago," she smiled, and he nodded as he came to a stop at her beside.

"Yeah, you've been here a long time now. I bet these guys are as sick of being here as you are," he said, gesturing to Bucky and David.

"Probably even more," she replied.

He nodded. "Your nurse tells me you've been practicing with the crutches. How's that going?"

She crinkled her nose and shrugged a little. "I'm trying but it's hard. It feels like every single one of my muscles have gone to crap from laying here for a month."

"Yeah, that'll happen. But it's good to try to get around on the crutches and at least get some exercise for your good leg. We want you as mobile as possible without straining yourself. And of course putting no weight on the injured leg."

Then he went about his examination, starting with her ribs, which were much better now but not quite fully healed. When she gave a shiver at having to pull the blanket away for this, the doc asked, "Cold?"

"Very," she replied.

He frowned and then, like a parent, touched his hand to her forehead. Then he walked away for a moment, came back with a thermometer, and asked her to open up.

When the device beeped, he pulled it away, read the display, and then said, "Hm. You've got a fever."

She furrowed her brows. "A fever?"

"101.9," he said. "Are you nauseous at all?"

She shook her head, then asked a slightly dumb question. "No. Is the fever a bad thing?"

"Well, it's not good," he replied. "Let's have a look at your leg."

Still shivering, she watched at the doctor went about removing her brace and inspecting her leg. He was silent for a few moments, and she stared to get nervous.

Finally, he said, "Well, I hate to say it, but it looks like we've got the start of an infection on one of your incisions."

She wanted to throw the entire bed up into the air, toss it out the window, and demand how this could even be fair. "Are you kidding me?"

He shook his head. "No home yet."

She groaned and dropped her head back. "Can't you just give me antibiotics and send me home?"

"Afraid not. Infection's not something you mess with or take lightly. But, it's also not uncommon. I'll get you started on some antibiotics and get it cleared up."

"How long will that take?"

"We'll have to watch and see how it goes," he replied. "But I'd count on another week or two. We're gonna need to watch your leg a little more closely now too."

Mentally cursing just about everything, Summer sighed her understanding and then burrowed back under the cover. David was sitting next to Bucky now, and after the doctor left, she glanced at both of them and muttered, "I'm sorry."

Bucky looked worried by what he'd just heard, and disappointed that now she wasn't coming home, but not angry. Then again, why would she expect him to be angry in the first place?

He merely shook his head. "I'm glad they caught that before they sent you home."

She supposed that was the silver lining. "Yeah. I'm just getting really sick of this. If it's not one thing it's another."

Then a nurse came in bearing Tylenol and an antibiotic drip, and after downing the fever-reducers, she went back to freezing in peace under the blanket. She always had David stay above the covers when he had a fever so that he didn't overheat, but she sucked at following her own rules.

She wasn't one for self pity typically, but after the last month and waking up to a rather severe injury, having major surgery, trying to figure out how to competently navigate on one already-weakened leg, and now being stuck at the hospital for another two weeks after thinking she was getting to go home - she was ready to throw a pity-party in her head.

And so, that was what she did, trying not to shake to death from the fever chills and not breathing a word of any of it out loud, because for whatever reason, complaining about what she was going through seemed like the most unacceptable idea in the world. After all, Bucky had been through worse and was probably getting sick of all of this, and he was missing a very major mission in order to help her with David, and all she currently was was a useless lump in a bed with a leg that couldn't properly heal without getting infected along the way.

She barely noticed when the arm rails on her bed were pushed down and out of the way, only blinking her eyes open when she felt fingers brushing against her hair. She looked up to find Bucky close, leaning on the side of the bed from his seat and comfortingly running his fingers through her hair as he kissed her forehead.

"You are warm," he said quietly, frowning as he drew away.

"I feel like I'm a giant ice cube." Then she cringed because maybe that wasn't the most sensitive thing she could say to someone who had actually been literally frozen for years upon years. Maybe she just couldn't do anything right.

After a moment or two had passed, his fingers drifting from her hair grazed her cheek and, when finding just a hint of moisture there, he shifted to look down at her and asked, "Are you crying?"

She shook her head. "No."

He gave her a pointed look. "I can see that you are."

"I don't want to," she replied, doing her best not to look at him. "Just ignore me. I'm having a really stupid moment and thinking things I shouldn't."

"What do you mean?" he pressed gently, trying to lift her chin so that she'd look at him, but she resisted.

"Just... nothing."

When he was silent for a few moments, she thought maybe he had let it go, but she was wrong.

"You know, I can't even count how many times you've made me tell you what I was thinking because you swore it would help."

She closed her eyes, shaking her head. "This is different. I'm just being an idiot and feeling sorry for myself even though there's a million people just in this hospital who have it worse than me. Plus I'm getting to keep my leg so I'm not gonna complain about it especially not to someone who's missing an arm and was awake for the surgery and - yeah, no."

After clamping her mouth shut, she felt the bed shift and then Bucky's face was right in front of hers, preventing her from being able to look anywhere else other than his eyes. "Summer. It doesn't matter if someone else has it worse than you. It doesn't matter what happened to me. You're going through something... hard. Really hard. It's okay to complain a little bit. I won't think any less of you, trust me."

Her eyes welled up with tears, and she was horridly sick of crying, but she couldn't help it this time. Voice shaking a little bit, she admitted, "I'm just so sick of this place. I miss home. I miss everybody even though they visit all the time. I miss my bed - and your bed - and I miss waking up with David and making you guys pancakes and... I miss walking. I miss not needing help to do anything. I even miss getting Pepper's dry cleaning and grabbing coffee for people."

On the last sentence, though she felt utterly ridiculous, she swallowed down a small sob and covered her hand with her face to hide her embarrassment. But while she was on the verge of humiliation just because of her own feelings, Bucky slipped his arm around her and rubbed her back to comfort her.

"It's okay," he said quietly. "You don't have to be strong every minute of your life."

"But I need to get over it," she said, wiping at her eyes. "I mean, this isn't even the hardest part."

"It's not easy either," Bucky pointed out. "Just... stop being so hard on yourself."

He drew away by a few inches then, looking at her as she drew a deep breath and tried to pull herself together. "I'm sorry, I just -"

"And stop saying you're sorry," he said with a small smile.

She sighed and tried to smile back. "But I am. I'm sorry that your missing the big mission because of me. And I'm sorry that you're listening to me whine right now."

"I don't mind the whining," he replied. "You can whine. And there'll be more missions later."

Looking at him through watery but no longer crying eyes, she brought her hand to his face and said softly, "I love you."

"I love you too," he answered quietly, and just beyond him, she could see David close by, watching them silently but with concern.

He kissed her then, softly and briefly, like most of their kisses as of late. Sometimes it was frustrating, even if it was necessary, but at that moment it was perfectly enough. When they drew apart, David decided to officially crash the party and crawled up into the bed at her side the careful way that she had taught him to.

But before he snuggled up to her side like she was used to, he looked up at her and signed something that he she would never get sick of seeing from him - "I love you".

She smiled widely and pulled him in for a hug. "I love you too, sweetie. And I'm still so proud of how good you've been for Bucky. Just another week or two and we'll be home together again, okay?"

He looked sad at this, having been greatly looking forward to her coming home that day, so she just closed her eyes and held him close, hoping that he could hold out for just another few weeks without any bad days. So far, everything had gone relatively quite well as far as David was concerned, and she couldn't help but marvel at the way that David had grown to trust Bucky. Not only that, Bucky had established a routine with him, and now David no longer cried automatically every night that he had to go home to the tower. While there were very few upsides to her injury that she could see, Bucky and David's growing closeness was one of them.

Her fever starting to break already, she felt the negativity and self-pity of a few moments earlier subside just a bit, along with the chills. Maybe she didn't have to keep pretending that all of this didn't completely suck, and maybe it was okay to admit to how hard it was to adapt with and cope with her new physical challenges.

She just wished that she could hurry up and do that at home.


The next day, the tower was once again filled with returning Avengers, bearing good news of a mission gone very well. And yet, before Steve even gave so much as a peep as to the mission, he looked around the floor they all shared and then asked Bucky with a look of mild confusion, "Did Summer not get sent home?"

Sitting at the kitchen table next to David, who was drawing, Bucky shook his head. "No. Her leg's infected."

Steve narrowed his eyes slightly. "You've got to be kidding me."

"I wish. She'll probably be stuck there another two weeks."

"I'm sorry," Steve sighed. "Tony's throwing a party tonight and I was going to invite you to come along if you wanted, but..."

Bucky shrugged dismissively. "I wasn't part of what you're celebrating anyway, so..."

"That's not true. We wouldn't have gotten there without the intel we got on missions you played a big role in."

Bucky gave a slight chuckle. "Thanks. But still not in much of a party mood."

"I understand," Steve nodded, rather than ask if he was ever in a party mood. "Well, let me know if you need anything. How's she doing?"

"She's... frustrated," Bucky replied. "And now she's getting fevers and stuff because of the infection."

"She can still keep the leg, right?" Steve asked cautiously. "How bad is it?"

"Not that bad. At least that's what her doctor's saying."

Steve nodded again. "Okay. That's good. I can stop by later if she's up for visitors."

"Yeah, I'll ask. She's been pretty out of it though. That's why I'm here and not there. Went by this morning and she only stayed up for like fifteen minutes and then passed out again, then woke up long enough to tell us to just go home since she'd probably just sleep all day."

He said all of this in a very monotone voice, like he was reading the ingredients on a granola bar, and Steve frowned at how tired and discouraged he looked.

"Hey, she's gotten this far. She'll get better, she'll come home."

Bucky nodded, staring at the table and then looking up when Steve walked by, giving his shoulder a pat as he made his way to the hall.

"Hey, Steve?"

He stopped and looked back. "Yeah?"

"You find me a souvenir?"

"I did," Steve smiled. "Huge one. Gun so big it even felt kinda heavy to me, and that's saying something."

Well, at least there was that to slightly brighten Bucky's day. "Thanks. And the punch we talked about?"

"Shield to the face," Steve replied. "Figured either one would work."

That did indeed work. Sharing one last grin, Steve then turned and headed towards his room, and Bucky sighed and glanced at David. His picture that he was drawing was nearly finished, and after that, he'd probably wander around the floor and end up in front of the TV or knee-deep in one of his toy boxes, and there was no two ways about it - Bucky was bored out of his mind, and really, so was David. Bucky liked Mario Kart as much as the next unfrozen caveman, but after a month of this routine - as nice as it was - he desperately needed a change of pace. Otherwise he'd end up sitting around all day and thinking too much, and that was good for nobody.

The problem was, he had zero ideas for what the heck to do outside of the tower. He wasn't crazy about the thought of being outside with David near a busy street after what had happened the last time Summer was close to one, and his hesitation there alone was almost enough to make him relent and just spend the day staring at the wall.

That was until David finished his picture and then turned it around and slid it towards Bucky to look at. He leaned forward and found that it was a drawing of himself, Summer, and David, all in stick figures (though one of Bucky's stick arms were drawn in gray), and they were at a very brightly colored park. And he was pretty sure that the pink blob in David's stick hand was supposed to be ice cream. Or a flower he was giving Summer. But probably ice cream. And he even drew a hat on Bucky's head, apparently quite aware of his somewhat poor efforts to remain "incognito" even at parks.

The kid needed to get outside, obviously. He looked up at David and said, "I take it this is what you want to do today."

David nodded but then pointed to Summer's stick figure. Bucky tried not to wince a little as he said, "I know. It's not the same without her. But she's still getting better and right now you're stuck with me, so... if you want, I can take you."

David only spent a fraction of a second considering this before he jumped off of his seat and hurried into his room to get ready. Bucky smiled just slightly and then glanced back to the picture in front of him, smile turning back into a frown as he wondered how long it would be until she'd be home and able to come with them.


The rest of the day was, at least, quite a bit different from the others.

After taking David to the park, everything was fine and being out in the sun and getting some fresh air was even better than he'd thought it would be. The park wasn't too full, so it was easy for Bucky to keep an eye on everyone there and keep tabs on all the activity, which was helpful to keeping him calm and not anxious. Paranoia wasn't the easiest habit to kick, especially when it had been justified more than once.

Then, in the midst of finally managing to relax some, Bucky was watching David make his way up a big climbing rock near a sprawling playground when everything suddenly became not fine, all because of a stupid old lady and her dog getting off of its leash.

And he felt zero guilt at mentally calling the person a stupid old lady, regardless of how rather feeble she was and obviously unaware that a certain kid at the park happened to be deathly afraid of dogs, because seriously, how hard was it to keep a chihuahua on a leash?

Either way, the chihuahua came running their way and barking up a tiny storm, and at the first sight of it, David's foot slipped off the rock and he would have fallen and probably hurt himself somewhere had Bucky not caught him before he hit the ground. The boy then scrambled up into his arms, acting like it was a snarling German Shepherd charging at him rather than a yappy rat of a dog. Bucky held him up and away from the dog and watched the old lady slowly make her way over, yelling at the dog, whose name was apparently Spike.

Once she got close enough, she grabbed the dog and fought with it to get its leash back on, and in the midst of this she looked up and said, "I'm sorry - this rat's a regular Houdini with leashes. Worst birthday present I ever got."

Surprised - pleasantly - at the lady's sarcastic attitude, Bucky shrugged and said, "It's okay. He's just scared of dogs."

"I see that. More of a cat person?" she asked in between yelling at Spike to shut up while David watched cautiously, still clinging to Bucky for dear life.

He shrugged, not really knowing the answer to that. Then the lady looked at David as she added, "Well, good thing you've got your daddy here to save you from the scary chihuahua. Not all would, you know. When I was your age I was scared of the water, so my Pa threw me in a pond and made me stay in there til I leaned how to swim out." Then she added, "He was a real gem, that one. Anyway, let me buy you an ice cream cone to make up for scaring you to death."

"... It's fine, you don't have to..."

"Nonsense!" she said, quite authoritatively. "I know your generation got brought up different but I'm not gonna ruin a kid's day without making up for it."

Then she started walking towards an ice cream stand on the corner, yelling at the still-freaking-out-dog as she went, and Bucky followed reluctantly. The irony didn't escape him of how he was actually from the lady's same generation, and heck, he could have gone to high school with her for all he knew.

Once the ice cream cone was safely in David's free hand, while the other hand still had a death grip on Bucky's shoulder, Bucky expected the old lady to then go on her way. She didn't, though, walking them away from the stand and going on to talk his ear off some more.

She talked about the weather, about some kids who ran by squealing and almost knocked into and how kids needed to stop being so rude these days, and meanwhile Bucky barely said a word, still carrying David the whole time. His thoughts began to drift into how to make a polite escape when something she said took him by surprise.

"Your boy looks just like you," she said. "That's nice, you know. None of my kids looked a damn thing like me. All they got from me was allergies and scoliosis."

No clue as to what to say, he glanced at David and supposed that they looked similar at a basic level, mostly hair color and skin tone. Easy enough to pass as his kid, at least to most likely age-degenerated eyes.

"Anyway, I'll get out of your hair and get this little terror back home so he can chew up my couch some more. What's your name, son?"

He hesitated for just a second before blurting out, "James."

"James," she repeated. "I knew a James in high school. You almost look like him too."

He told himself not to panic. It was a very common name and he probably resembled lots of people.

"But he died and didn't have any kids, so... anyway. Enjoy the rest of your day. Sorry again about Spike."

He nodded quickly and bade the woman farewell, all the while wondering if the world could really be that small. He'd never know for sure, because he sure as hell wasn't going to go after the woman and ask her more questions, but it was still bizarre.

He also learned a valuable lesson in respecting elders who were technically younger than he was, and not automatically calling them stupid even in his head, and even when they accidentally almost caused David to have a meltdown in the middle of an otherwise lovely day. An annoyingly moral voice in his head was very pleased with this lesson, and he was pretty sure it was that of his old self. It - or he - was back to being the dominant influence in his head, after his brief lapse when Summer's accident had happened.

He was still annoying as hell, though.

The weirdness of it all stuck with him after they'd left the park, dropping by the hospital to check on Summer once the afternoon had begun turning to evening. She was asleep when they walked into her room, but she woke quickly. Unfortunately, she also happened to wake with her highest fever yet and was half-delirious.

Fever reaching an impressive and concerning 104, Bucky sat in his usual seat and watched as her nurse checked her vitals and her IV bags, then got her to sit up and swallow some pills before getting the blanket away from her. This made her very unhappy, and in her drug-addled, feverish, half-asleep state, she slurred, "I'm freezing! That wasn't nice... none of you are nice. I bet this place is owned by HYDRA since you like freezing people so much..."

Bucky froze momentarily and glanced at her nurse, who merely asked, "Owned by what, honey?"

"HYDRA," she repeated, eyes closing sleepily and teeth chattering with chills. "I'm friends with Captain America and I'm gonna tell him and he's gonna... gonna..."

She then seemed to fall asleep, and after the nurse looked at Bucky in half amusement and half confusion, he said, "She's, uh... a big fan of the Avengers."

"Oh," she chuckled. "I get it now. When she wakes up I'll have to tell her about when I met Thor outside of a Starbucks."

Bucky smiled back politely, though this woman's stories couldn't possibly measure up to Summer's. Then he asked, "How much longer is she gonna have fevers like this?"

"Hopefully not much longer," the nurse replied. "She's only been on the antibiotics for a day, but they should start kicking in soon. She'll be all right, don't worry."

He nodded, and soon he and David were left alone in the room again with a softly snoring Summer. He'd have to have a talk with her when she woke up about her mildly dangerous babbling, and he could imagine now how hard she was going to smack herself in the face for rambling about HYDRA of all things.

They stayed until David got hungry for dinner, and Summer didn't wake once. He didn't like leaving her like that, but the nurse came in to check her fever just before he left and told him that her temperature was down to 101 - not ideal, but at least better than 104. He just despised leaving her at all, and having to trust strangers to care for her.

He went home on autopilot, as quiet as David the whole way there, finding their floor at the tower deserted once they got to it. He expected that, since the party was currently happening upstairs, and just as he predicted, he felt no sadness in missing it.

The night was shaping up to be nothing short of routine, at least until after dinner, which were much appreciated leftovers courtesy of Sam. Rather than go spend the next hour with his video games, David disappeared into the kitchen, and when Bucky heard the sounds of noisy rummaging, he went in after the boy just in time for him to run up and thrust the thing he'd been looking for into Bucky's hands.

He looked down, saw a bag of chocolate chips in his hands, and then he looked at David and asked, "You want this?" Then David pointed to a picture of a cookie on the bag. "Oh. You want cookies."

Luckily, he knew there were cookies from the store in the pantry. He grabbed those, then walked back to David and held them out to him. "Here."

David eyed the cookies and then shook his head. Then he pointed across the kitchen to the stand mixer sitting on one of the counters.

Oh man. "I... sorry, kid, but I don't know how to make cookies," Bucky said apologetically. "I really don't."

David then impatiently jabbed at the bag of chocolate chips still in Bucky's other hand, and following his lead, Bucky flipped it over. There was a recipe on that side. Then David made the sign for "Mommy", and Bucky deducted, "You want me to make them like your mom makes them."

David nodded and smiled so brightly that for a moment, Bucky almost wanted to actually try to make the cookies. But the fact remained that he'd be about as good at making them as Summer would be good at lifting a truck with one arm.

"I really don't know how. Can't you just eat these?" He asked, holding up the pack from the pantry.

The smile on David's face immediately shrunk into a frown. Then, to Bucky's horror, his bottom lip started quivering like he was about to cry.

And that was when Bucky knew just how deeply this kid had wormed his way into his heart, because he gave in within an instant.

"Okay, okay," he relented, holding up his hands in surrender. "Fine, I'll... try. Just don't cry, okay?"

Then David smiled brightly again and nodded. Bucky sighed and shook his head, realizing the kid was more like his mother than either of them realized. Both seemed to have the uncanny ability to make Bucky do their bidding at their every whim, and neither of them seemed all that aware of this.

He tossed the pack of cookies back into the pantry, then looked down at the recipe on the chocolate chip bag and sighed. This was going to be horrible and he doubted that what he'd manage to make would even qualify as cookies, but now there was no going back.

Besides, maybe following the recipe would be easy. It was just instructions, right? How hard could it be?

He got his answer when he tossed the bag on to the counter and, after skimming through the recipe, grabbed the first couple of ingredients listed. It started with butter and sugar being mixed, and that seemed pretty straightforward.

He'd seen Summer use the mixer enough to know how it generally worked, and he knew where she kept her measuring stuff, so within just a few minutes, he had thrown the butter and sugar into the bowl and flipped on the mixer. All was fine until he noticed that it wasn't exactly mixing.

Then he read over the recipe and realized his mistake. It called for softened butter, whereas he had thrown the stuff in directly from the fridge. He sighed and glanced at David, eagerly watching from a small chair that he was standing on to his left. Then he grabbed the bowl, stuck the whole thing in the microwave, and softened the damn butter.

With the butter half-melted, he grabbed the bowl and put it back on the mixer base, and then for the next five minutes, added the rest of the ingredients with little incident. It was hard to mess up pouring in a teaspoon of vanilla extract and baking powder, and half of the problems he did have was just finding the stuff. But he managed, and once he got to the final ingredient - the flour - he thought he had lucked out and had actually done a pretty good job of it all.

But he didn't know what would result from dumping in three cups of flour all at once and then turning the mixer at almost-full speed, so when he did exactly that, he jumped in surprise when half the flour went flying everywhere and covered his face and shirt in the process. David immediately cracked up laughing, pointing and leaning on the counter as the sounds of his full-bellied giggles filled the kitchen, and Bucky shut off the mixer with his left hand while the other worked on brushing the flour off of his face.

Once he could actually see again, he turned and narrowed his eyes at the still cackling-David. "Oh, you think that's funny, huh?"

David nodded, and Bucky didn't think twice about reaching into the flour bag, grabbing a handful, and then throwing it right at the kid's face. David squeaked and then ran away laughing, and as he watched him go, Bucky laughed too, and it was the fullest and most real laugh that had come out of his mouth for over a month.

As David hid from further flour assaults, Bucky turned back to the disaster that was the cookie dough, and after trying to mix it into something that actually resembled what it was supposed to look like, he grabbed a spoon and tried a bite. It tasted fine, and since that was what mattered, he figured it was basically a success.

But then there was the matter of getting the dough into the oven. And the fact that he hadn't even turned on the oven yet, which he hadn't known he was supposed to do before everything else.

As he dealt with both things, David came back into the kitchen - hair white from the flour, even his eyebrows - and jumped back up on his chair and used a spoon to swipe a big ball of cookie dough from the bowl. As he then went to town on it, Bucky asked, "Good?"

David nodded, chomping on the spoon, and Bucky grinned, now perfectly happy with his efforts. And if the cookies that finally made it into the oven were a little misshapen and uneven, and just not pretty like Summer's cookies, then that was mainly because trying to roll a ball of cookie dough with one normal hand and one metal hand was not surprisingly difficult. It didn't occur to him to maybe spray canola oil on the metal hand to keep the dough from sticking.

At the end of the ordeal, and after he had gotten them both mostly clean of the flour, the first set of cookies came out of the oven just as ugly as they were went they went in, but that didn't stop David from devouring three in a row. Bucky ate one too, and to his shock, it wasn't horrible.

And when David signed his thanks for the cookies, Bucky smiled and nodded, glad now that he had given in, because the result was worth it. It was such a cute, happy moment compared to recent days that when he felt the floor shake under his feet, it couldn't have caught him more by surprise.

First, he froze, waited, and listened. It wasn't exactly an odd occurrence in the tower to hear loud banging or even feel it shake a bit, considering that Thor was a frequent guest and Tony wasn't always careful with his suits. But then there was a loud bang that came from over their heads, sounding distant exactly the way that it would if it was coming from the party. The sound of gunshots was the final confirmation he needed to grab David and take him to safety, though at the moment, he wasn't sure where that was.

But there was one person - well, thing - who probably knew, so after Bucky grabbed David and all but jumped away from the table, he called out towards nowhere in particular, "JARVIS? What's going on?"

No answer.

"... JARVIS?"

Still no answer. That was not a good sign.

... The hell was going on?


The next morning, Summer's fever finally broke for good, and she no longer felt like death personified. She only felt half like she wanted to crawl under a rock and never try to move ever again, but at the moment, she had bigger things to worry about, like the weird things that Bucky had just told her.

"... Tony made a what?" she asked, squinting at Bucky, sitting at her bedside as usual.

"An evil artificial intelligence robot... thing," he said. "And JARVIS is dead."

She blinked. "Dead? How can JARVIS die? He's not even... okay. So you're telling me that there's a big evil super-smart robot on the loose?"

"It's not a robot right now," Bucky replied. "Steve said they destroyed it. But it... the AI... escaped into the Internet."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Escaped. Into the Internet. Like a... virus or something?"

Bucky shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just telling you what Steve told me before he left."

"Left where?!"

"Africa. Look," Bucky said, "I don't really know what's going on but it's not good and everybody seemed pretty scared, so..."

"Shouldn't you be going with them?" she asked, trying to process all of the weirdness. "Because Skynet isn't something you mess with, man. I'm not sure even the Avengers can beat Skynet."

"What the hell is Skynet?" He asked in confusion.

She sighed. "Terminator. Never mind. But seriously though, if you need to go -"

"I'm not going," he said, in a way that told her he was getting sick of repeating himself. The tone was final enough that she didn't argue for once.

"Okay. Did you see the robot... thing?" He shook his head. "When did Tony make it?"

"Yesterday," Bucky replied.

Her eyebrows were now nearly in her hairline. "He created an evil artificial intelligence in one day?"

"I think that other guy helped him. Something Banner."

"Oh. Figures he'd be there when I'm not," she sighed, starting to think she'd never get to meet Bruce Banner. "Okay. Well, they're both geniuses, so I guess that's possible, but how?!"

"I heard Thor grumbling about how he shouldn't have let humans mess with Loki's scepter."

"Loki's... wait. Is Loki back or something? I thought he was dead?"

Bucky shrugged for the hundredth time. "I don't know."

"But if it had to do with his scepter, which I'm guessing is the blue glow stick I saw on the news years ago, then... this thing is a super powered evil artificial intelligence."

Bucky nodded. "Sounds like it."

She paused, mulling all of this over, and finally, after a long moment spent in contemplation, she asked nobody in particular, "Didn't Tony ever watch Terminator, seriously?" Then she looked at Bucky and asked, "Are we all in danger now?"

"Security at the tower's tighter, but they're all working on containing the... threat," he said. "Steve's keeping me updated. We're gonna be fine."

She smiled at his confidence in the matter, but she wasn't so sure that all would be well. And in all likelihood, neither did he, but he was good at putting on a comforting show for her. "Well... okay."

Then he reached down and grabbed David's backpack from near his feet, and she watched him fish around for a moment before he pulled out a small plastic bag. She watched curiously as he extracted what looked like a cookie from the bag, and then he handed it to her and said, "Here. On a lighter note, try this."

"It's... really early for a chocolate chip cookie," she half-smiled. "Why?"

"Just... try it," he said, wiggling the cookie slightly.

She didn't want to, but she went ahead and took the thing from his hand and, after eyeing it unenthusiastically for a moment, she took a bite. After swallowing and finding it to be a completely normal cookie, she smiled and said, "Okay... so, why did I just eat that?"

He smiled somewhat sheepishly and said, "I made it."

She paused. "What?"

He gestured to the cookie. "I made that cookie."

She looked at it, then back to him, and smiled, "You... baked... cookies?"

He nodded. "David asked me to make some and I... well, I tried but I couldn't really say no."

Her mind then flooded with adorably domestic images of Bucky fumbling around the kitchen back home and yet managing to create the cookie sitting in her hand, which wasn't the most perfectly shaped cookie ever, but it tasted damn near perfect.

And the fact that he did it for her son made her fall in love with him even more. It may have just been a cookie, but really, it was so much more.

"Wow," she marveled, smiling widely at him and saying the first thing that popped into her head. "Now I know you must love him if you let him talk you into making cookies."

Immediately, she wondered if she'd said something that she shouldn't have. Bucky looked a little surprised, looking down for a moment before glancing at David sitting next to him. He was playing on his piano app, something they'd both gotten so accustomed to that it was their normal soundtrack to many parts of the day, and while he didn't look up, Summer was pretty sure that he was still listening intently.

"Yeah," Bucky said quietly, looking back up at her. "I think you're right."

And Summer knew that David was listening then, because while he still didn't look up, he smiled a little to himself. And that moment between the three of them was everything she needed after a month of feeling like crap and hurting and feeling guilty for more reasons than she could even count. It was what she needed because it was the perfect example of what was permanent and what was temporary.

Her pain was temporary, though some of it would likely linger for the rest of her life, but being immobile and dependent on others was temporary. Being stuck in the hospital was also temporary, as frustrating as it was. But what she had to look forward to back home, the life that she had built and love that she had never expected to grow to what it was now - that was permanent, God willing, and it placed everything into blessedly clear perspective.

And falling in love with someone who in turn fell in love with you was one thing. It was amazing and it was beautiful and something she'd never take for granted. But that very same person loving your child who they hadn't helped to bring into the world themselves - what words were there for that? What could ever be a sufficient way to describe such a thing?

She couldn't think of anything, so instead she held out her hand over the edge of the bed and wiggled her fingers slightly so that Bucky would take her hand. When he did, she smiled and shook her head. "I wish I could think of something to say that would express how much I love you because the words themselves just aren't cutting it anymore."

He smiled back, replying, "That's not a problem I mind you having."

"Me neither," she said. "It's definitely my favorite problem right now. Way better than the whole stuck in bed with a fricked leg thing."

He nodded, glancing to her leg and squeezing her hand just slightly.

"Now," she sighed, "assuming we don't all die because of this evil AI wandering the Earth... hopefully I kick this stupid infection now that the fever's gone and then I can go home."

He nodded, then calmly stated, "We're not all gonna die."

"Well, if JARVIS died..."

Bucky shrugged and said with slight annoyance, "Maybe if people like Stark stopped trying to build weird things to do things they could do themselves, things like this wouldn't happen. I mean..." he stared off and muttered, "Robots and AIs and screwing around with magic stones from outer space. I don't know what's wrong with just being human these days."

He irony of him saying this, not to mention how rare it was to get an actual opinion on matters like this out of him, made her stop and then giggle, "Oh my God, you sounded so old just now."

He looked at her in surprise. "But -"

"No it's great!" she assured him, still chuckling. It didn't hurt to laugh anymore, at least for the most part now that her ribs were mostly healed. "You should throw the world 'newfangled' in there somewhere, go full old-man-ranting."

"You know I'm not actually old," he said, though his grin gave away his lack of offense.

"I don't know," she smiled. "Technically, if you walked into McDonald's and asked for a senior discount on your coffee, they'd have to give it to you. That kind of makes you old."

Rather than object to this observation, he said, "Right... so if I'm old, then what are you again? You said it last month... was it MILF?"

She cringed and immediately pointed and said, "Do not call me that. It makes me sound so..."

"Old?" he grinned.

She sighed and dropped her hand, defeated. "Okay, fine. You got me there."

One brief moment of silence later, he said, "... It's true, though."

She turned her head back towards him and smiled at his playful expression. "Has it been a long month for you?"

"Honestly I don't really think about it. Unless I'm here with you and you look at me the way you are now."

She raised her eyebrows and laughed. "Okay, not that I think I could really give much of a seductive look even if I tried, but there is no way on earth that I can right now, in a hospital bed like this. Nope. Not buying it."

"Well... I'd offer to prove it, but..." he shrugged to emphasize the impossibility of such a thing.

She shook her head at him, though she loved that they could still banter like this even in this current situation. "Well, once I'm out of this bed, and assuming Skynet hasn't terminated us all before then, I'll let you prove it then."

"I can wait," he smiled. Then he added, "I still don't know what Skynet is."

She sighed and smacked her hand down against the bed. "And that's just... a travesty. Okay. I know what we're going to do today. You're gonna go rent the first three Terminator movies, and we're gonna watch them all today, since I feel better and I can actually hold my head up without passing out."

He nodded. "Okay." Then he paused, furrowed his brows, and asked, "How do I rent a movie?"

She looked at him slightly wearily. "And you say you aren't old."

Old or not, she still managed to educate him that day on a bit more of modern movie history and the coming Skynet apocalypse. The fight just getting started on an entirely different continent may as well have been an entire world away for as close as it felt, and though she still worried that it was selfish to keep someone who could have helped on the sidelines with her, she never brought it up to him again.

Her infection cleared, and two weeks later, it appeared as if her homecoming would coincide with that of the Avengers' as well. Though, she did nearly have a heart attack that would have kept her in the hospital indefinitely when she flipped on the TV mounted in the corner of her room and saw on the news that a city in Eastern Europe was literally flying off of the Earth.

On second thought... maybe she was incredibly glad that Bucky had sat this one out.

A/N: Yeah so... this was very filler-y. Sorry about that. But! She'll be home next chapter and things will start getting interesting again lol. Also, I have a oneshot for you guys this week, and I'll be posting it either later today or tomorrow, so keep an eye out :) it's a mostly unrelated Summer/Bucky thing where, due to some mishandling of an Infinity Stone by, predictably, Tony, she gets sent back in time very conveniently to the 1940s, and then stuff happens lol. I don't know that I'd consider it part of the "canon" of this story, but consider it a nice, crack-y, feelsy change of pace from all the angst and crushed legs and hospital beds of the last couple chapters here. I think you'll all like it :D So, until next week, I love you all and thank you so so so SO much for reading and even more for reviewing. You're all the best :D