Life After Death

by Team Damon

Sequel to Breath of Life. He's overcome a lot to get to where he's at, but he still has a long way to go. She knows that it's not going to be easy, but she also knows that he's worth it. And neither of them have the slightest clue what in the world they're doing. Bucky/OC, post-TWS and non-Civil War compliant. Now complete!

37. Chapter 37

Several weeks later, mid-morning inside Natasha's bedroom at Avengers Tower, Summer was longing for the days where figuring out how to competently strip off a bra was her main source of angst. That was nothing compared to what she was facing now.

Decked out in lingerie, high heels, and not much else, Summer stood in front of a seated Natasha who was as impressively passive yet amused as ever. Summer's chosen music played softly in the background, a lively, sexy tune, and when Nat motioned for Summer to get on with it, Summer couldn't help it - she burst out laughing, and she continued laughing until she cried.

Thankfully, Natasha laughed with her, and reached over to her iPod to pause the song as Summer wiped away her giddy tears. "You know, I had a feeling this part would take awhile."

"I'm sorry," Summer giggled, trying to stop the stupid laughs. "I just... this is hilarious."

"Yes, but when you're doing it for real, you won't feel that way," Natasha pointed out with a grin. "Now, you had your giggles. Put them away and let's get to it."

"Right," Summer sighed. "Okay. Lap dancing time."

Natasha nodded. "Lap dancing time. Just try to do what I showed you, and I'll help you get it right."

Summer nodded, taking a breath and willing her slightly nervous giggles to go away. They'd been practicing this dance and the different parts of it for weeks now, but this was the first time they had focused on this part. It seemed like one of the easier parts, at least in theory, but actually taking the leap and giving Natasha a very amateur lap dance... it was taking all of Summer's will to not start laughing again.

Instead, Natasha restarted the song, and Summer very consciously told her brain to shut up as she bit the bullet and got on with it. The first part was easy: sauntering to Natasha. They'd been working on her saunter, and it was definitely much better than the awkward penguin-walk Summer had first come up with. She still felt a little silly, but weeks of practicing had gone a long way in helping her feel more comfortable.

At least until now. But it didn't matter. When Summer reached Natasha in her seat, she bit back another wave of giggles and straddled her, though not as smoothly as she would have liked. But whatever. That's why this was practice.

Then she closed her eyes - because looking at Natasha would have just made her more nervous for some reason - and then she started circling her hips, slowly moving down towards the other woman's lap as she did.

"Okay, not bad, but try to move your hips a little more," Natasha said, helpfully moving her hands to Summer's hips to guide them. "Like this."

"Oh okay," Summer said, nodding and looking down to watch herself move. Then once Natasha pulled her hands away, Summer continued on a bit on her own and then asked, "Better?"

"Yeah, that's better," Natasha confirmed. "Keep it up."

"Okay," Summer replied, feeling much less stupid now that she was actually doing it. She always made things out to be far worse in her head than they ended up being in reality, and this was no exception. In fact, after awhile, it was almost kind of fun.

Then she lifted off of Natasha's lap and turned around, then swung her leg back over her lap and moved back on top of it, this time with her back to Natasha's front. She did the same thing as before, circling her hips and slowly working her way down, feeling a bit more confident this time, and once she was seated in Natasha's lap, Natasha went back into teacher mode.

"This part's important," she said, hands back on Summer's hips, "You want to grind down hard enough for him to feel it, but not too hard. You're still teasing him. And it won't take much to drive him crazy, so... do it like this."

Summer soaked up the instructions like a sponge, grateful for the hands-on method of teaching that Nat favored, and she never would have thought that grinding on her friend's lap while said friend held her hips and guided them could feel so not weird and actually totally comfortable.

In fact, she felt so at ease that it only made it even worse when the door to the bedroom then opened, and of all the people in the world who could have barged in at that moment, it ended up being Steve who walked in and got quite the eyeful.

Summer looked up and promptly screamed and squealed at the same time, while Steve froze in his tracks and let his jaw drop and eyes nearly pop out of his head. Summer then leapt off of Natasha's lap, trying to cover herself with her arms and mostly failing, ending up hastily grabbing a sheet from the bed and dragging it over herself as Steve stood there gaping like the most confused fish in the world.

Natasha merely sighed, undoubtedly feeling like the lone adult in a roomful of bewildered children.

"... What the hell?!" Steve asked, face as red as Summer's was, clearly having issues logically processing having walked in on his best friend's fiancée grinding half naked on his girlfriend's lap.

Summer covered up her face with the bedsheet and let out a noise similar to that of a dying cat. Oh, the humiliation.

"Relax, Steve," Natasha said nonchalantly, still sitting in her chair. "This is for Bucky."

Summer peeked up from behind the sheet only to watch Steve's confusion merely deepen.

He blinked and then squinted. "... What?"

Natasha sighed again, then stood up and gestured to Summer huddled on the floor. "I'm teaching her a burlesque routine for her wedding night. She's surprising him with it. Now shut the door before he walks by and the surprise is ruined."

Slowly, Steve's face became less confused and more understanding, but the blush never left his cheeks. "Oh. Oh. Okay. That... uh... makes sense. I guess."

He closed the door, and Natasha scolded him, "She was doing great until you barged in."

"Sorry," he shrugged, looking at Summer and then looking away, as if the image of her in her lingerie mid-lap dance was forever burned into his memory. "You, uh... you looked great, though." He then cringed and winced, closing his eyes, and Summer dropped her face into her hands.

"Thanks," she mumbled into her palms.

"Okay," Natasha said with a smile, looking from Steve from Summer. "How about we all take a moment, breathe, and act like mature adults for once?"

"I, yeah, you know, I'll just leave," Steve shrugged, going for the door like it was his personal savior.

"Actually, wait," Nat said, swiftly walking to him and taking him by his shoulders. She then turned him around and led him to the chair, pushed him down to sit on it with a thud, then turned her gaze back to Summer. "Here, let me demonstrate that last part for you."

Summer's eyes widened. So did Steve's.

"Uh... Nat?" he asked in a small, somewhat terrified voice, glancing over at Summer nervously.

"Just sit still," Natasha instructed him, turning around so that her back was to him. "That's literally all you have to do. Just sit."

"But-"

Steve's voice was then paralyzed in his throat, because Natasha sank into his lap and gave Summer a firsthand look in how to properly drive a man crazy by grinding down teasingly firmly in his lap. Summer watched carefully, with a face the color of roughly Natasha's hair, and she was so embarrassed and also enthralled by watching the pro at work that she almost missed the way that Steve was trying not to squirm and simply expire of his own awkwardness and apparently very quickly growing frustration.

And then, because it was simply the way that the universe seemed to work, the door opened again, and this time, it was Tony who came strolling inside. Summer barely had time to wonder why everybody apparently felt so comfortable just strolling into Natasha's freaking bedroom.

All three pairs of eyes flew to the door, and Natasha stopped dancing with an impatient sigh as Tony immediately froze where he stood. Slowly, and extremely carefully, he looked from Steve's ridiculously flushed face to Natasha's annoyed face and the way that she was seated on his lap mid-dance, and then he glanced at Summer, clutching the sheet like it was a lifeline and watching from the floor with a blush to rival Steve's.

"... I don't even want to know the story here," Tony finally said, shrugging slightly. "Because I'm pretty sure that it's nowhere near as good as the ones I'm imagining right now."

Carefully, Steve then snapped out of his daze and gently eased Natasha out of his lap. "I'm just gonna... go... now."

"Okay, I lied," Tony said, moving to stand in Steve's way so that he couldn't leave. "I do want to know the story. Somebody spill it."

"It's not..." Steve sighed and muttered, "it's not what it looks like. It's for Bucky."

Tony's brows flew up his forehead. "Whoa, Cap. I knew you guys were close, but not that close."

Summer leaned back against the bed and closed her eyes in pure exasperation. It kept getting worse.

"What he means to say is that I'm teaching Summer how to dance for Bucky," Natasha explained evenly, ever the voice of reason. "And Steve wandered in here, so I used him for a demonstration."

Tony visibly deflated a bit. "Oh. Definitely better in my head, then. As always."

Natasha nodded. "Yes. Now if you boys wouldn't mind leaving," she said with false sweetness, "I've got work to do with Summer. And if either of you barge in here again - this counts for you too, Steve - I will make sure you walk with a limp for at least a week."

While Steve bolted out the door, Tony lingered at it and flashed Nat a smile. "Don't threaten me with a good time."

Natasha smiled back in a way that would have made anyone else run away in terror. "And one word to Barnes and I'll tell Pepper all about that thing you don't want her to know about."

Tony's smile immediately faded. "I apologize for my intrusion. I'll be on my way now. And I saw nothing."

Then he was gone, and Natasha locked the door after him to prevent any other potential intrusions. Summer was still sitting on the floor, trying to recover her dignity, and as soon as Natasha turned back to her with a highly annoyed expression, Summer asked, "What does he not want Pepper to know?"

"Let's just say your wedding is probably only the first of several that'll be happening fairly soon," Natasha explained with a small smile. "Ready to get back to work?"

She offered her hand to Summer, who took it and carefully made her way back to her feet. "Yeah... now that I've prayed for the floor to open up and swallow me about ten times."

"Sorry," Natasha told her sincerely. "It won't happen again. Let's just... forget that ever happened and get back to it, okay?"

Summer nodded, reluctantly setting the sheet down back on the bed. "Okay. Although I'm never gonna be able to forget watching you give Steve a lap dance. Just... yeah, no."

Natasha grinned and then turned, sitting back down on the chair. "Well, you know what they say. Show, don't tell."

Summer sighed and nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Good Lord."

Natasha chuckled, and as the girls resumed their morning training session, outside in the kitchen area, Steve was still red-faced and making his way back to his own room when he turned the corner to the hallway and smacked into Bucky, who was coming the way that he was going.

"Sorry," Steve said, pausing and running a hand through his hair, pretending to be completely at ease as Bucky looked him over.

"Hey," Bucky said, narrowing his eyes slightly at Steve's obvious distress but asking casually, "Have you seen Summer?"

"Y- no," Steve shook his head, a little bit too hard. "Nope. Haven't seen her all day."

Bucky's eyes narrowed even more, clearly noticing how weird and uncomfortable Steve was acting despite his best efforts. "Well, it's only nine, so..."

Steve nodded, gulping a bit for good measure. All these years later and he was still the world's worst liar. "I'm sure she's around here somewhere."

Bucky nodded back, then asked, "Why do you look like you just walked in someone having sex?"

Steve groaned and rubbed his eyes, trying with all of his might to think up a good excuse, and then suddenly Tony was there, slinging an arm around his shoulders and chiming in, "Maybe he just got done having it."

Then Tony winked, and both Steve and Bucky made the exact same face of mild distaste as Steve smacked his arm away. "No thanks, Tony. I'm gonna go take a shower."

He then all but sprinted down the hallway, still cringing to himself and cursing at his own stupidity, leaving Tony to simply shrug and then ask Bucky, "Am I just not his type? What am I doing wrong here?"

Bucky merely gave him a look like he hadn't had nearly enough coffee yet to deal with this crap yet, and then he stepped around Tony to make his way into the kitchen. All the while, he wondered why everyone was already acting so weird this morning.

If he only knew.

---

That morning was only the beginning to an eventful day, and one that Summer had been looking forward to for quite awhile. When the afternoon arrived, it was time for her to experience one of the most important parts of wedding preparation: trying on wedding dresses.

Planning the day ended up being nothing short of tedious, but in the end, it all came together surprisingly well. David stayed at the tower with Wanda while Summer, Natasha, Steve, and Bucky all headed out to the city. Darcy tagged along with the girls and Sam also did with the guys, and the plan was that once they reached the dress shop, the group would split up and the men would head to a menswear shop a few blocks away while the girls entered bridal hell. Summer happened to have a surprise for Bucky once they got there.

"Have fun," Bucky said, eyeing the front of the bridal shop a bit warily and then turning to give Summer a peck on the lips.

"Thanks," she grinned, holding his hand and keeping him from leaving just yet. "Hang on, you can't leave yet."

"Why?" he asked curiously, watching her check her phone and then look around the block.

"Well, because I asked someone to be here, and they haven't shown up yet, so..."

"Who?" Bucky asked, eyes narrowed in confusion.

Summer then caught a glimpse of two heads, one with black hair and one with brown curls, and she broke into a grin and waved. The two men waved back happily, and when Bucky turned to see who it was, he paused and then glanced back to Summer to ask cautiously, "They're here for you... right?"

"Nope," she smiled sweetly.

Next to Bucky, Steve laughed and said, "Oh, it's the guys who bought a date with me."

"Which was actually a double date with the four of us," Natasha reminded him. "It was fun. We should do it again sometime."

"Well," Summer shrugged towards Bucky and Steve, "it's not that I don't trust your tastes, but..."

"Hey, what am I, chopped liver?" Sam asked, feigning offense. "I've got style. I wasn't gonna let your man pick something gross to wear."

"Oh I know," Summer quickly nodded, "but still..."

"Hello, hello!" Esteban interrupted happily upon arrival, flashing his charming smile to the whole group and giving Summer a quick hug. "Sorry we're late - we got held up at work. Well, he got held up at work."

Nicolo at his side shrugged to the affirmative and smiled with his rather appealing Italian accent, "I was shooting a newborn's first pictures, and you know how babies can be. Crying, crying, crying, then two minutes of good shots, then more crying."

"It's totally okay," Summer assured them. "Thanks for coming! I'm just glad you're both here."

"Oh please," Esteban waved her off, leaning in and dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Like we would pass up the chance to help with your Avenger wedding. Name the time and place and we are there."

Summer smiled excitedly, and Darcy watched with great amusement before asking, "Hey, Bradley Cooper, did you say you were a photographer?"

Nicolo looked slightly confused and it took him a moment of glancing around before he realized she was referring to him. "Oh, me! Yes, yes I am."

"A really good one," Esteban grinned. "Even if he does use Photoshop too much." That earned him an elbow to the ribs, which he laughed off.

"Oh, sweet, because she still needs one of those," Darcy said, gesturing to Summer. "And since you're already in the loop..."

"Oh, of course! I would be happy to photograph your wedding!" Nicolo quickly nodded, even as Summer was already preparing to babble.

"You don't have to, though," she shook her head. "I mean, I was thinking about asking but I wasn't going to put you on the spot..." She glared slightly at Darcy, who merely grinned and then went back to not so subtly ogling the overly attractive male couple in their midst.

"It is no problem," Nicolo assured her.

"Are you sure? Because -"

"No, no, I am sure, trust me."

As the two went back and forth completely unnecessarily, Bucky glanced at Esteban and found him grinning back and rubbing his hands together excitedly. Bucky drew a breath and then smiled in a way that did nothing to hide how afraid he suddenly was for what he was going to end up wearing at the altar.

"Okay," Summer finally said when she had finally gotten over her irrational guilt at having just hired her wedding photographer. "Phew. All right. Everything's already coming together and I haven't even tried on a dress yet!"

"Ooh," Esteban whipped around and touched her shoulder. "Send me pics. I must have pics of all the dresses."

She nodded. "As long as Bucky doesn't see even an inch of them."

"I will defend the photos with my life," Esteban said utterly seriously.

"Good," Summer grinned.

"Oh! And one more thing. Do you have your colors picked out?"

"Yes!" Summer squeaked, yanking her purse from her shoulder and then diving into its somewhat terrifying depths. She then pulled out two paint sample strips, one of which had an old gum wrapper stuck to it, which she brushed off before handing Esteban the samples. "First of all, we decided on a vintage theme, and we're getting married on a farm, so we went with colors to match that sort of thing. It's the lightest one on the cream strip, and then on the red one, the darkest one. I think it's called 'rich red wine'."

Esteban and Nicolo both oohed and ahhed over the colors, and Natasha grinned proudly as she remarked, "I helped her come up with those."

"Yeah, I was stuck," Summer admitted. "At one point I was considering chocolate brown and pink. Which is definitely not vintage. At all."

Esteban and Nicolo both looked at her as if she had just suggested they all eat a box of newborn kittens for dinner. She merely shrugged and said, "I know. And I'm an event planner. I have no excuse."

"Well, we are here to help," Esteban assured her. "And we will make sure that your fiancé and his best man pick fabulous things today. They are in safe hands."

Bucky and Steve exchanged nervous looks while Summer squealed quietly and gave Esteban one more spontaneous hug. "Thank you so much. I so owe you." Then she dropped her voice to a whisper and told him, "By the way, just putting this out there - if you put him in a three piece suit with a waistcoat and everything, I might die."

Meanwhile, Sam gestured to the whole scene and muttered, "Seriously. I am chopped liver."

"No," Natasha said, patting his shoulder. "You're just not quite... fabulous enough to gain her full confidence."

After pulling away from Esteban with mutual conspiratorial grins, Summer then gave Bucky one more kiss goodbye and grinned excitedly before shooing the men all away. "Okay! Let me know how it goes! Text me and keep me updated!"

Bucky gave her an exasperated and amused look before grinning back, and that was when Esteban threw both of his arms around Bucky and Steve and then turned them around to head down the street.

"Ah, today is going to be one of my favorites, I can already feel it," Esteban said, looking up cheerfully to the sky as he said this. Then he looked between both men and asked, "Are you ready for this?"

Summer stifled a laugh and then waved back when Nicolo turned and waved to her with a smile. She then sighed and remarked to the two women at her side, "I'm starting to think there's literally nothing Bucky won't do for me. What do you guys think?"

Natasha scoffed a duh, and as they finally turned to walk into the bridal shop, Darcy replied, "Well, it's like the Meatloaf song. He'll do anything for love, but he won't do that."

"But what is that?" Summer asked as they walked through the doors. "Meatloaf never specifies."

Darcy shrugged. "Maybe Meatloaf draws the line at taking it up the -"

"Holy crap," Summer interrupted, now standing in the front end of the single biggest bridal store she'd ever seen. Granted, it was the only one she'd ever seen in real life, but it was legitimately huge, and there were a lot of people inside.

She would have stood there like a highly intimidated idiot for an embarrassingly long length of time, but Natasha, being the incredibly helpful maid of honor that she was, walked up to the front desk and took care of things.

Summer and Darcy stared at the racks upon racks upon racks of plastic-wrapped dresses that lined the back of the store while Natasha waited for their consultant to make her way out to them.

"Well, this shouldn't be hard," Darcy said cheerfully. "You've only got a few million dresses to choose from."

"... Not helping," Summer muttered, gulping a bit.

Luckily, it ended up being much less torturous of an ordeal than she had feared.

---

Half an hour after Summer had first walked inside the place, she found herself in a tiny little dressing room with both Natasha and Darcy squeezed in there with her, both of them helping her dive into the first dress that her consultant, an older and very nice lady named Liz, had chosen for her to try on. There were five other dresses queued up, and she had picked this one to try first at random. Truth be told, short of the dress fitting the bill as "vintage", she had no real idea what she wanted. As a result, Liz had pulled several different styles, and this first one was a ball gown.

"Where are you in there?" Darcy asked, digging through the layers of skirt to try to find where Summer was in the midst of it all.

"Right here!" she said, lifting her arms through the bodice and waving them.

"Oh good," Natasha said, pulling the dress down to its proper place and smiling when Summer popped up through it, pulling her hair out of her face in the process. "Okay. Stand up straight so I can try to clip this thing on you."

Being a sample dress, it was a few sizes too big for Summer, so as Darcy fluffed out the skirt, Natasha grabbed a few clips that sat nearby for this very purpose and clipped the back as tightly closed as she could. Summer looked down at the dress, feeling vaguely like this entire experience was taking place outside of her body, but then Nat gave her shoulder a tap and said, "All right, let's go."

She nodded, and then all three of them helped pick up the skirt of the dress as they made their way out of the dressing room and towards the platform and huge mirror that waited just outside. The minute that Summer caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, it all suddenly hit her like a proverbial ton of bricks directly on her head.

Natasha and Darcy helped her up to the platform, and as Summer stared at herself and paled a bit, Nat caught her expression in the mirror and then looked up at her in concern. "You okay?"

"I'm getting married," Summer said dumbly, as if she hadn't fully realized this fact until now.

Darcy chuckled. "Yeah, which is why you're in the fluffy princess dress."

At that moment, Liz the consultant returned from having checked on another customer, and she stopped and stared with a big smile on her kind face. "Oh, my! Look at you!"

Summer swallowed a sudden lump in her throat, her color returning a bit as she took in the dress and, more importantly, the sudden and mildly terrifying sensation of truly feeling like a bride for the first time.

The dress itself was a shade of ivory, with a fitted sweetheart-neckline bodice at the top and a full skirt that gave it its ball gown title. It wasn't a cupcake dress, though, and it fit the vintage feel that Summer wanted. The skirt had a layer of lace details draped midway over the tulle fluff beneath, and the bodice had just enough sparkle and detail to not disrupt the overall theme.

"Do you like it?" Natasha asked, carefully examining the lace portion of the skirt.

"I... think so," Summer replied. "What do you guys think?"

"I think you look kinda like an old movie star crossed with a Disney princess," Darcy said.

"I think you look like a bride," Natasha smiled.

Summer grinned at them both and then turned back to the mirror, Natasha having hit the nail on the head. Until now, Summer hadn't really felt the part of a bride yet, mostly because everything had been in the early planning stages and it felt a lot like the work she did for Stark Industries, but... now, standing there in that dress, she finally felt that light, exhilarating sense of glee that had been eluding her.

"Oh man," Darcy grinned, "she's gonna cry."

"Shut up," Summer muttered, even as she smiled with a slightly quivering lip.

"It's okay," Nat shrugged. "Let it out."

"The more tears, the better," Liz confirmed, happily watching from the sidelines.

And then Summer started crying like every girl on every cheesy TLC wedding show she had ever seen.

But, despite the happy feelings and how much she truly did love the dress, she was far from ready to say yes to it. Instead, after pulling herself together, she barreled through no less than eight other dresses, all of different styles and shapes, in order to really cover the bases.

She tried A-lines, mermaids, trumpets, a few other ball gowns, and more, and while she liked some of them, none of them quite lived up to the very first one. With each new dress, her mind would drift back to the very first one, but she wasn't sure if it was because of the dress itself or just how she felt in it.

Natasha saw through this, however, and after Summer's rather meh response to the eighth dress, she quietly asked Liz to bring the first one back out and then said to Summer, "So, you're a ball gown kind of girl."

Currently standing on the platform in an form-fitting and undeniably sexy trumpet dress, Summer glanced at Natasha and shrugged, "You know... maybe. I really don't know. I wouldn't have thought I was, but..."

"Do any of these other dresses make you feel like a bride?"

Summer looked in the mirror, shrugged again, then replied, "Sort of? But not as much. I mean, this is sexy and all and I look pretty good, but..."

"That's what I thought," Natasha said. "I'm having Liz bring the first one back. Let's try it on again and see if you feel the same way about it this time."

"Okay," Summer nodded, glancing at Darcy's reflection as she stuffed her face with cookies that had been provided as a compliment of the staff.

"What?" Darcy asked around a mouthful of crumbs. "I'm hungry."

Summer laughed and then made her way back into the dressing room. She wondered if Bucky was having as much fun right then as she was.

Then, a few moments later, after having wrestled off the trumpet dress and then dived back into the very first ball gown, Summer could immediately feel the difference once she was wearing it again. She headed back out to the mirror, Nat and Darcy again helping with the skirt, and at the first sight of it on her body again, the truth was as plain as day.

She never would have pegged herself as a ball gown kind of bride, but when Liz came by and placed a long, lace-trimmed veil on the back of her head, it was merely the icing on the cake.

"Yeah. Okay. Yup."

Natasha raised her eyebrows and grinned. "'Yup'?"

"Yeah," Summer nodded. "I can't believe I'm saying this about the very first dress I tried on, but I think this is it."

"That happens a lot," Liz assured her. "A lot of women end up going with the first dress they try on. There's nothing wrong with it. When it's the right one, you just know."

"But... well," Summer said, examining the dress carefully, especially the neckline. "Obviously it'll fit differently once I have it in my size, so... would that be... too much? Here?" She gestured to her chest.

"You mean too much boobage?" Darcy asked. "Nah. I say go for it."

Natasha then helpfully stepped up behind Summer and took the clips off of the back of the dress, then took it and tightened it as much as she possibly could with her hands. "There. This is probably what it'll look like in your size."

Her cleavage went from there to very there at Natasha's movements. It wasn't over the top or distasteful, but...

"Is it too much?" Summer asked in a slightly small voice.

"It's hot," Darcy said.

"It's not too much," Natasha assured her. "And besides, they're two of his favorite parts of you, right? Might as well show them off a little. And one day when you're older, you'll look back on the pictures and probably be glad that you did."

"Good point," Summer nodded. Then she took a deep breath and decided to just do it and dive right in. "Okay. Yeah. Let's do it, then."

Liz clapped happily, and Darcy cheered through another mouthful of cookie as Summer smiled happily at her reflection. As Liz raced off to grab her measuring supplies, Natasha grinned at Summer in the mirror and said, "So this is the dress you'll be stripping off on your wedding night."

"Oh dear God," Summer gulped. "I almost forgot about that."

"Good thing it's got a zipper," Nat pointed out, and Summer blushed brightly before covering her face with her hands and laughing nervously.

Before Liz came back, Darcy used Summer's phone that she had been holding to snap a few pictures of her and send them to Esteban. Within only a few moments, he answered with very enthusiastic all-caps approval of the dress, then sent several pictures of his own, which made Darcy sit up and say, "Whoa."

"What?" Summer asked, still in the dress and standing on the platform in front of the mirror.

"Look at your dude," Darcy said, walking to her and handing the phone over.

Summer took the phone and grinned at the picture, which was of Bucky in a dark gray suit complete with matching tie and waistcoat. He didn't look particularly happy about being photographed.

"He looks like a kid when their parents get them new clothes for Christmas and then makes them try them on and pose for pictures," Darcy pointed out. "It's great."

Summer then scrolled over to the next picture, which was of a picture of the same suit in a catalog there at the menswear shop. Under it, Esteban had typed, Now imagine that suit but in the very dark red color it lists as an option here.

Summer's eyes widened as she flipped back to the other picture. "Oh. Oh. Whoa."

"That's what I said," Darcy nodded.

"Interesting," Natasha chimed in.

Summer waited only a moment before furiously typing back a very excited YESSSSSSSSSSSS, followed by quite a few heart-eyes emoticons and some jibber for good measure.

"Esteban is a gift to mankind," Summer said, handing Darcy her phone back. "I can't even describe how much I love that man."

"I know, and he gets to make out with Bradley Cooper all the time," Darcy shrugged. When neither other woman replied, she said, "What? Am I the only one who sees the resemblance?"

Before Summer could answer, Natasha's phone was the next to buzz, and Summer didn't miss the look of concern that crossed the woman's face as she read whatever had been sent to her.

"What's wrong?" Summer asked.

"Nothing," Natasha smiled, putting her phone away.

Summer gave her a look. "I know you well enough now to know your fake smile, and you are totally fake smiling at me right now."

"It's just work," Natasha shrugged. "Don't worry about it."

"Yeah, too late. I'm a professional worrier," Summer reminded her.

"Does it have anything to do with this?" Darcy asked, holding up Summer's phone. On the screen was an alert from a news app that she didn't use much but never bothered to delete either, and it described a bombing that had just happened just down in New Jersey at a government building. Two people were confirmed dead and at least fifteen were injured.

Natasha sighed and looked around before lowering her voice to just above a whisper. "It's the same guy who hit Dallas and St. Louis last month. He's getting closer to us and trying to draw us out on purpose, and starting riots everywhere he can."

"Who is it?" Summer asked. Natasha seemed reluctant to answer, and that was never a good thing.

"An old teammate of mine and Steve's," Natasha replied. "Who worked for HYDRA all along and also was one of Bucky's handlers when they still had him."

Summer furrowed her brows, her previously light-as-air mood coming back down to earth a bit. "You mean Bucky knew this guy? Or remembers him?"

Natasha nodded. "But we're on it. Don't worry about it. Let's go get your dress off, okay?"

Summer nodded, glancing at Darcy before following Natasha back to the dressing room. Her thoughts raced quietly through the information that she had just heard, but she didn't let it wreck her day or her moment. The truth was, things like this were a part of life, and she had certainly had a lot of time to learn to accept this fact.

As Natasha helped to get her dress off, she asked Summer, "You're not letting this ruin your day, are you?"

"No," she replied honestly. "I mean... this is just my life now, right? Kinda like an Army wife, but instead I guess I'm gonna be... an Avenger wife."

She chuckled softly, and Natasha smiled at the term. "Life will never be boring. But I don't want you to worry, because we all know that when this fight happens, it might be hard for him. But he won't be alone."

That actually did go a long way in easing Summer's mind. She smiled and replied, "Thank you. And you know that makes you just the best maid of honor ever."

Natasha smiled back, and then Darcy said, "Hey, and I'm always here to distract you with movies and crap while everybody's off saving the world. Even though I technically have more reason to worry because my dude isn't full of super steroids."

"Well, mine can't literally fly away if a fight goes bad," Summer pointed out.

Darcy paused. "Yeah, okay. Good point."

"Sam tried to carry both Bucky and Steve during training the other day," Natasha casually mentioned. "He ended up flying through a window and they all hit the ground whining like babies."

Summer and Darcy both broke out into quiet laughter, and Summer found that she was actually starting to deal with this Avenger stuff pretty well. It seemed almost normal now, or at least her own personal version of normal, and she wouldn't let her lingering anxiety steal the joy of this day and of having picked her dream wedding dress.

She just wished she didn't live in a world where deranged men ran around and killed innocent people for no real reason. She had a feeling, though, that whoever this guy was, pretty soon he was going to greatly regret his actions.

---

A week passed following that rather eventful day. During that week, Summer split her time between working, planning more wedding details and poring over the Internet for ideas, and keeping up with her usual tasks at home. Natasha found a bridesmaid dress that they both loved, and Esteban handpicked Steve's best man suit and did a fantastic job. As a result of all the flurries of activity, Summer's sleep was suffering a bit and it had felt like she'd barely seen either Bucky or David the whole week, but she figured that was normal for this sort of thing.

But throughout those seven days, she watched a subtle but noticeable change take place within her fiancé. They both knew what was coming, the fight looming on the horizon from a man who was so eager for it that he made sure the Avengers knew what his next move was. While at first she expected Bucky to be nervous or wary, she turned out to be very wrong. He wanted the fight every bit as badly as the one instigating it.

She'd seen it on his face accidentally, the day they all came back from wedding shopping. Tony had been showing Steve something on his phone when Bucky had glanced as well, and Summer walked by just in time to see the dark determination set in his eyes. She snuck a glance at the phone too, her skin crawling a little when she saw the face of this "Crossbones" guy who was apparently a SHIELD agent turned HYDRA lackey turned HYDRA leader/terrorist.

After that, when they had time together, she noticed Bucky's stares getting more faraway and his nightmares becoming more numerous. Before, they had gotten down to one or two a week; that week, it was every night. He also spent an unnecessary amount of time training, both in the tower and in the Avengers facility outside of the city, but when she finally managed to get him alone and willing to talk one night, she got the story out of him that he'd been keeping to himself.

That story replayed in her head as she drove Bucky and David out of the city very early in the morning following the one week mark, on the day that the confrontation was supposed to take place. David snoozed in the backseat as Bucky stared out the window somewhat absently, and as they neared the Avengers facility, Summer spoke quietly, "So I'm stuck at this place until you come back, right?"

He turned to her and nodded. "It's the safest place for you and David today."

She nodded, watching the road. "I still think it's weird that this whole fight today was basically scheduled. That he supposedly leaked where and when his next attack was just to draw you guys out. Can't be a good thing."

Bucky shrugged, looking down at his hands as he muttered, "Even if it's a trap, we'll still have the upper hand."

"If you were really that confident," she noted wryly, "you would have let me and David stay in the city today."

"There's always a chance things'll go wrong," Bucky replied. "I'm not taking the chance with you or him."

She understood, sighing and letting her mind drift until it settled on the story that Bucky had told her a few days before.

"So, you sure that you're okay with this?" She asked, glancing his way. "Fighting this guy?"

The way that Bucky had described the man, or Rumlow as he remembered him, had been more than a little chilling. Memories had apparently floated to the surface just after Bucky saw the picture of his face, and the memories weren't what Summer expected to hear. She had figured that Rumlow was a dick who probably helped shove Bucky around and maybe tossed him in and out of the freezer once HYDRA was done with him, but instead, Bucky described a guy who out of all of the agents he remembered, had actually been almost nice to him. Almost.

Rumlow hadn't avoided eye contact like the others, or refused to speak to him. Bucky remembered being treated almost like a human being by the man, being tossed bottles of water during missions he was present on and being referred to as things like "buddy" rather than just a code name or even less. He remembered Rumlow sometimes appearing almost admiring of Bucky, sort of the way that Pierce had, only there was nothing fake or mocking about it. Bucky was pretty sure that Rumlow had truly revered the Winter Soldier's work and held some twisted sort of great respect for him, while at the same time never questioning HYDRA's protocols.

Which only made it worse that Rumlow would then spend his days at Steve's side, pretending to be SHIELD and knowing exactly where Bucky was and what had happened to him, but not saying a word to his best friend who was still grieving his death years later. In a very real way, it made Rumlow the worst kind of dick. At least in Summer's opinion, and that of most everybody else.

"I'll be fine," Bucky said, answering Summer's question after a pause. "I need to do this."

Summer nodded, completely understanding. Just like she'd had to track Mark down and confront him into signing the papers that gave up his parental rights to David, Bucky had to face his own abusers as well. She wouldn't question that or try to talk him out of it, just as he hadn't tried to talk her out of confronting Mark.

When they got to the facility, Summer parked and gently woke David up before Bucky led them both inside. She was expecting a building that looked like something straight out of a CIA thriller-movie, and that was sort of what she got, only more high tech and even more secretive-looking.

The place was huge, and at barely six in the morning, crawling with people all dressed in mainly bland business-type clothes and security badges. She felt highly out of place in her jeans and lack of a badge, but nobody even glanced at her questioningly. She figured it had something to do with the guy holding her hand and walking her down the halls.

Then they approached a section of the building that Summer thought looked just like the typical "headquarters" in movies, full of people sitting in front of computer screens and important-looking agents walking around talking to other agents and issuing orders regarding God-knows what, all enclosed in glass doors and windows so that one could peek in and see the action at work. Only she didn't get to see much, since as soon as a tall brunette lady noticed their presence outside of the room, she came outside and greeted them with a cool but reasonably friendly smile.

"Agent," she nodded to Bucky, and Summer grinned for some reason at him being referred to as such. Then the lady looked at Summer, and since she was a little intimidating and Summer didn't know her, she stopped smiling. "This must be the family."

He nodded and said, "I know you'll be busy today but if you could do what I talked to you about the other day..."

"No problem," she assured him. "And Fury wants to see you downstairs with the others."

Bucky nodded. "Thank you." The woman nodded back, and Bucky then turned to Summer and gave her a hug.

She hugged him back, closing her eyes when he gave her a quick kiss before letting her go and bending down to give David a hug, too. Summer glanced at the woman, then turned back to Bucky when he straightened up and said, "She's going to take care of you while you're here. Don't go anywhere for anything, okay?"

Summer nodded, and he gave her one more quick kiss before turning to leave. Before he did, however, she softly told him, "Be safe."

He nodded seriously, and then he was gone. After he walked away, disappearing around a corner up ahead, Summer looked at the woman next to her and finally got a proper introduction.

"I'm Agent Maria Hill," she said, offering her hand.

"Oh," Summer said, shaking her hand. She'd heard her name before, from just about everybody in the tower. "Hi. I'm Summer, and this is David."

"I know," she smiled at both of them. "You're kind of famous here."

Summer's half-smile fell off of her face and was replaced by sheer terror. "I... am?"

Maria shrugged. "It's not every day that one of the world's deadliest assassins gets put on the straight and narrow by a random civilian and her little boy."

Summer floundered, "I... well... I don't know if I'd say straight and narrow, but..."

Maria simply maintained her smile and said, "Follow me."

Summer blinked and then fell into step behind the agent when she started walking. David kept trying to stop and look at things on the way, but Summer managed to keep him moving, and along the way, Maria explained, "Contrary to what he said, I'm not going to be taking care of you. I've got work to do and you don't strike me as someone who needs a babysitter, so instead, you'll be staying here."

Here was a what looked at first glance to be a supply closet in the middle of the hallway, but once the agent opened the door and Summer peered inside, it looked more like a break room. A rather cozy looking break room.

"Oh. Okay," Summer said, leading David inside and peering at the vending machines, television on the wall, and even a comfortable looking couch on one side of the room. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. Oh, and this," she handed Summer a badge from her pocket, "will keep anyone from bothering you if they ask why you're here. There's wifi and the TV gets about three hundred channels."

"Awesome," Summer said as David made a beeline for the couch and plopped face down, apparently still quite sleepy. She looked at Maria and nodded gratefully, then asked, "Will there be a bunch of agents coming in here today to eat lunch and staring at the weird intruders just hanging out?"

"We'll all be working through lunch today," Maria replied. "I wouldn't worry."

"Right. Big creepy fight with Scarface today." She paused. "Which I obviously know nothing about. I don't know... anything. Ever. Definitely nothing classified."

Maria merely smiled and began to turn back to the door. "Of course not. Stay out of trouble. Call the number on the back of the badge and ask for me if anything happens."

Summer nodded, suddenly wondering how often things happened here, and then watched the door close behind the agent. She then looked about the room, glancing first at David who was now snoring, which was actually great progress for him considering how difficult of a time he used to have eating or sleeping anywhere odd. Then she looked around some more and ended up settling her gaze on the coffeemaker, deciding she may as well just get it over with and drink about five cups before ending up watching bad morning talk shows to pass the time.

You're kind of famous here. Summer cringed and hoped to God that she wasn't famous for being the tower's loud floozy that desperately needed a soundproofed bedroom. God only knew what Tony said about her when she wasn't around.

Oh well. It certainly wasn't the worst problem to have, she supposed.

---

With the plan set and team almost ready to go, Bucky double checked the arsenal of weapons strapped to his person for the fifth time while going over said plan in his head for the tenth. His role today was relatively minor, at least in terms of visibility, but that was as it always was. He would actually be among the first on the scene, along with one other person whom his eyes drifted to as the rest of the team finished their preparations all around him.

This was going to be Wanda's first big mission as an official Avenger. Since the Ultron debacle, she had done little things here and there, mostly training exercises and some not, but this was the big one for her. And she was nervous. Bucky could see that a mile away.

She had all the support in the world, including from Clint, who was lending a hand today and currently suiting up across the room. Clint felt a natural responsibility to her after what had happened between himself and the twins, and the affection between them was real and entirely family-like. Bucky, however, had different reasons for feeling compelled to protect the girl, though they were no less important than Clint's.

First, there was their shared history as HYDRA experiments. Despite his initial reactions to Wanda and her brother having "volunteered" for the group's experiments, he now fully understood and accepted that they had actually zero clue as to what they had signed up for and were just as victimized as anybody else. He knew what she had been through on a level that few others could understand, and he knew exactly what it was like to stare out a window like she currently was and see nothing and yet everything.

Secondly, and most importantly, David. The kid absolutely adored Wanda and followed her around like she personally hung the moon and the stars in the sky. That alone made her extremely important and a priority in Bucky's mind.

He walked over to where she stood, dressed in red and black with her auburn hair down and doing nothing to cover the worry on her face as she looked out through the shaded windows. There was nothing but trees out there, and whatever was going through her head in that moment as he approached.

"You okay?" he asked. She looked up at him in mild surprise, then turned back to the window.

"You are the fourth person to ask me that today," she said, one hand fidgeting with the sleeve on her other arm.

"Maybe you should stop staring out the window, then," he replied. She glanced at him and rolled her eyes just a bit.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked. He nodded. "You knew this man, this... Crossbones. Will you kill him today?"

Bucky only paused for a brief few seconds before giving his answer. "It's not what we do."

"It's not what they do," Wanda replied, gesturing to the people behind them. Steve, Sam, Clint, Rhodey, Vision. "Do you feel like one of them?"

"Do you?" he asked in turn.

Her eyes darted to Natasha, then back to Steve and Sam before replying, "Sometimes. I know none of them are perfect and they have all killed before. Some of them a lot. But..."

"But what?" he asked gently.

"I feel..." she faltered, frowning and clearly not wanting to say anything more. Bucky knew the feeling incredibly well. But she persevered, her eyes becoming harder as she all but stared a hole into the window's fortified glass. "I feel a... hatred. And I can't get rid of it. Sometimes I can ignore it, but it never leaves. He's dead - Ultron is dead - and now I have nobody to hate. Nobody to kill. But I want to."

"That's why you don't feel like one of them," Bucky surmised.

She nodded. "I believe in this, I do. And I want to be better. I want to honor my brother and make him proud. But how can I when this is what I am? I am not like them. Like Steve."

Bucky almost laughed, but he held it in. "You think I am? Nobody's like Steve. Nobody."

"Then how can you wear this?" Wanda asked, gesturing to the small A on her sleeve and the matching one on Bucky's right. "I feel like an impostor every time I look at it."

Bucky paused, looking at the letter and eventually muttering, "Yeah, me too."

Wanda looked at him helplessly, and Bucky was pretty sure that he was giving the worst pep talk in the history of mankind. But then he thought of a way to hopefully turn it around, and if not, well... words just weren't his thing. But damn if he didn't give it his best shot anyway.

"I know what that anger feels like," he told her. "And wanting to kill, thinking it'll make you feel better. And most of the time, the people we're fighting deserve it anyway, so why not, right?"

She watched him curiously, listening intently. He then added quietly, "But it never makes you feel better. Maybe for a few minutes, but... that's it. And they might deserve it, but the thing is that they're not worth it."

"You mean... worth the guilt?" she asked.

Now it was his turn to stare out the window, trying to think of a way to convey what he was thinking. "It's more than that. Even when it's necessary, whether it's war or a mission... it's just..."

He paused, frowning. This would be so much easier if he had Summer's way with words.

"Unnatural," Wanda finished for him, looking away.

He looked at her in both surprise and relief. "Yeah." Then he added, "If you have to, then you have to. But it'll never feel okay. It'll always haunt you. It just... haunts less when it's justified." And he'd never stop wishing that he didn't know that firsthand, many times over.

"I understand what you're saying," she said quietly, going back to fidgeting with her sleeve. "But I don't think it'll change how I feel."

"Probably not," he agreed. "Time's the only thing that changes that. Just... don't let a letter be a burden."

"How can I not?" she asked incredulously. "People worship Captain America and Thor. They'll never look at me the way they look at them."

He shrugged. "Me either."

He held out a lot more hope for her than himself, however. Her history wasn't nearly as bloody and questionable as his. She had a chance to shine someday, if she wanted to. But for now, they were both in the shadows where HYDRA had left them, and getting back into the light took time.

"But," Bucky said after a long moment of silence between them, "There is someone who looks at us both like that."

Finally, a smile reached Wanda's face. "David."

He nodded, and he was almost smiling with her when footsteps behind them interrupted the moment. He turned to find Clint standing there, geared up and nodding to them both before asking, "Ready to go?"

He glanced at Wanda, and she briefly glanced back before nodding to Clint. "Yes."

"Good." Then he looked at Bucky and said with the utmost seriousness, "Take care of her, Barnes."

Wanda let out a tiny huff of a laugh before Bucky could reply. "You sound like Pietro."

"Somebody has to," Clint replied, and Bucky watched what he assumed was a meaningful kind of look be exchanged between the two. Then it was Steve's turn to nudge them out the door.

"Time to go," he said, and Bucky nodded before gesturing to the elevator. Wanda then followed him there, and together they descended to the underground garage.

Wanda let out a colorful word in her native tongue that made Bucky grin the moment the doors opened and she laid eyes on his motorcycle, innocently waiting for them.

"What, did you think we were taking a cab?" he asked her, walking to the bike and then handing her a helmet before hopping on himself.

"Don't kill us before we even get there," she replied, looking at the helmet with a distaste reminiscent of Summer when she had faced her own first ride on the bike.

"Don't throw up on me," he shot back. "Now get on before we're late."

She sighed heavily, jamming the helmet on her head and then obliging in a distinctly unhappy way. She jumped when he turned on the engine - again, like Summer - and he laughed, finding that it was always better charging into a battle with a friend than alone.

From there, the plan was fairly simple. Going off of the intel they had, it had been decided two days ago where Bucky and Wanda would go and set up in preparation of the fight. Bucky would take his usual position, out of sight and high enough to see everything and pick off hostiles as they threatened the others, and Wanda would initially be in charge of civilian evacuation. Having cleared most of an entire city in her home country a matter of months ago, using her powers to influence a few blocks' worth of New Yorkers to head to safety would likely only take her minutes. Then she would stand by, and time would tell how the day would end.

And that was exactly how it went, completely according to plan, at least until the plan failed. Bucky wasn't surprised, because nothing ever went according to plan.

---

Early that afternoon, Summer had begun to doze off on the surprisingly comfy couch while David played on his tablet next to her, only to suddenly jerk awake when her phone buzzed on her lap. She blinked and read the news alert on her screen, then felt her stomach drop.

Explosion reported in downtown NYC. She then dropped her phone and quickly found the TV remote, hurriedly switching it to a news channel, but they weren't covering anything yet. Her insides twisting into an anxious knot, she wondered what the hell was happening and started praying that nothing would happen to the people that she loved who were in the middle of it, or the innocent people they were fighting for.

---

The amusing thing was, Bucky had known that their "intel" was bad - they all did. It was simply too easy, and just as they had all suspected, the fight ended up happening all the way on the other side of the city, much closer to Avengers Tower than to the buildings that Wanda had cleared of people. And now there was a building on fire and people to be rescued.

With his arm disguised and his own helmet completely covering his face for his identity's sake, Bucky sped through the streets with Wanda clinging to him from behind, and as they approached the scene, he called back to her, "Now you're gonna have to keep people inside instead of get them out."

"What about the building that's on fire?" she called back.

"We'll figure that out when we get there," Bucky replied, hoping that the others would have that situation handled and that he and Wanda could stick to their new, improvised plan. "Now wait for my word, and when I say go, do your... voodoo."

She hated it when he called it that, which was the main reason why he kept calling it that. She didn't protest this time, however, and as he zipped through traffic and reached the perimeter that the others were working on, he slowed down some and said, "Now."

Wanda then carefully and with extreme caution let go of him, and stretched out both of her arms as far as they would go. He turned his head and watched the red tendrils of power leave her fingertips and crawl through the air, reaching the buildings on both the left and the right and seeping into them. He drove them the length of the perimeter, and Wanda singlehandedly kept the situation from getting worse through panic and disorganized fleeing. Instead, everybody calmly took shelter and stayed out of the way, and once it was done, he swung them to a stop in front of the building that had been hit.

It was an office building, and it had been hit right in its very heart. Vision and Sam were there, flying around and helping emergency crews get everyone to safety, and Bucky asked Wanda as he watched, "Want me to drop you here?"

"Okay," she agreed, getting off the bike and looking up at the building a bit warily.

He had things to do. He couldn't stay here and babysit her, nor did she need him to, so he revved the engine and called out to her, "Call if you need me."

She glanced back and nodded. "I will."

Then he drove off. There was a fight unfolding up ahead in the streets, away from the initial explosion, and that was why he was here.

---

Summer almost choked in both relief and dread when the news finally started covering what the hell was happening in the city. Apparently a building had been bombed, and now she was watching live footage of Sam and Vision flying around and rescuing people. Soon Tony arrived to help, and on the ground, there was some kind of fight happening, but the cameras couldn't get close enough to get a good look at it. It was infinitely frustrating.

Then, she saw something both horrible and amazing. There was a jumper on one of the highest floors of the burning building. The flames were getting closer to him, but the Avengers running the rescue efforts currently and quite literally had their hands full, so the man in a fit of desperation to escape was preparing to jump. He only needed to hang on just another moment or two, but he didn't. He jumped, and Summer gasped in horror.

But then he froze in midair, and she knew why as soon as she saw the red wisps hovering around him like a cloud slowly leading him down safely to the Earth. The reporters were utterly flabbergasted. Flying men in metal suits or wings they were getting used to, but this? What the hell was this?

It was a small, remarkable woman standing on the sidewalk, with her hands in the air and glowing scarlet as she saved the jumper's life and brought his feet down to the ground, to the astonishment of the medics and firefighters standing by.

Summer was ridiculously proud of her. She just wished she knew where Bucky was in the middle of all of this.

---

Cameras were everywhere. Bucky got out of sight quickly, but as things turned out, he didn't get to stay out of it for long.

He took up position on a rooftop, looking through the scope of his rifle to the scene unfolding on the ground. Rumlow wasn't working alone, that was for sure. He had a small army with him, and that small army was giving Steve, Nat, Clint and Rhodey a run for their money.

The explosion had been a mere diversion, intended to break up the group and thus leave the non-flying Avengers left to fight the men while the others were forced to focus on rescue efforts. Bucky wasted no time in getting to work dropping the men that he had clear shots at, but he hadn't even seen Rumlow himself yet, and that didn't make him feel any better about the situation.

The first bullet he fired landed in the head of a man who had been choking Steve from behind, and when the guy's limp body hit the ground, Steve looked up to try to catch a glimpse of his ever-helpful sniper best friend. He knew exactly where to look, and Bucky let out an amused huff when Steve then saluted him.

He suddenly got the feeling that exact thing had happened before, back in the old days, but he would think about that later. For now, he got back to helping even up the fight, though it seemed like two more men would replace every one that he took out. Fitting.

Then a helicopter buzzed overhead. He took his finger off the trigger and looked up. It was a military chopper, and his first thought was that the government was sending in troops already to take control of the situation. But he was quickly proven wrong; the helicopter lowered down, in the midst of the city block, and then men dressed identical to the hostiles on the ground poured out and landed on the ground. One of them, however, was different.

He was decked out in armor, a sort that looked mechanical, a bit like Tony's but far cruder. It was black and he wore a full face mask with graffiti-like facial markings on it, and just before he joined the fight on the ground, he raised his head and looked right at Bucky, as if he knew exactly where to look to find him. Then he raised his gun and fired three shots.

Bucky ducked down and took cover in time, but he immediately knew who the man was. And he was immediately angry.

Once Rumlow was on the ground, the situation went from bad to worse. Bucky tried to maintain his position, but he saw Clint get shot in the leg and Natasha take a knife to her shoulder, and Steve was getting the crap beat out of him. The others were still trying to contain the fight to the perimeter and rescue civilians, though Tony was trying to split his time equally between that and the fight, to his credit.

But Bucky could only stand by and watch for so long. There came a point where staying in the shadows and out of sight simply wasn't going to cut it, and when that point came, he gritted his teeth and ditched his rifle before making his way down to the street.

It was where he wanted to be, anyway.

---

"Hey Cap."

Those two words inspired more anger in Steve than he ever would have thought possible. The fact that they were followed up by a robotic punch to the face was beside the point.

Already a bit battered from the fight but still standing and newly motivated, Steve merely turned right back to his former colleague and said, "Why don't you take that mask off and try that again."

With no other prompting needed, Rumlow took off the mask and let it clatter to the pavement at his feet. Steve's anger grew twofold at the sight of the man's face, and it had nothing to do with his scars but everything to do with the smirk on his face.

"Just so you know," Rumlow then said, "this still isn't personal."

Steve then snapped, tossing his shield at Rumlow's face, and the confrontation that he had been preparing for finally began.

With the aid of the suit Rumlow was in, the fight was damn near evenly matched, but Steve had righteous anger on his side and a hell of a grudge powering his every punch.

Generally speaking, Steve didn't hate anyone. He strongly despised some people and pitied others, but he just didn't often waste the energy required to truly hate someone. In those moments, however, he realized that he may, in fact, truly hate Brock Rumlow, more than he had ever hated anyone or anything in his life.

At one point, after a painful whirlwind of punches and chokeholds and the sort of dirty tactics one would expect from a HYDRA disciple, Steve had managed to wrestle Rumlow to the ground, and as he held him down with his hand around his throat and knee to his chest, Steve growled out, "I worked with you almost every day for two years. Two years, Rumlow." He tightened his grip, then asked with a sudden desperation, "Why didn't you tell me?"

He knew the answer, of course. But the answer wasn't the point.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Rumlow gasped through the hold Steve had on his throat. "Figured... it was easier that way, since..."

"Since what?" Steve demanded, loosening his grip just enough so that Rumlow could speak more easily.

"... Since your friend's days were numbered anyway."

Steve furrowed his brows, though those words only served as confirmation of something he had suspected for some time now. Had HYDRA succeeded in getting those helicarriers up and active, their asset would have been rendered completely obsolete. He would have been dead before the day was over.

"His body's up on that rooftop, if you want to go grab it later," Rumlow said between coughs, as if he was mentioning picking up dry cleaning or a lunch order.

Steve's face paled. Though he knew better than to believe a single word out of this man's mouth, nothing could stop the sudden, sickening drop of his heart into his stomach. "What?!"

Then there was a blow to the back of his head from a rifle being swung at full force, and he was flung off of Rumlow face first into the pavement. Then there was another blow to his head, and another, then one more, and eventually, with his scattered thoughts almost entirely focused on his best friend, everything went black.

Rumlow stood over Steve's unconscious body, glanced up at the man of his who had been the one to deliver the blows, and then said, "Thanks."

But before the man could answer, a bullet whizzed past Rumlow's ear, grazing it and then lodging directly between the other man's eyes. He dropped to the ground with an inhuman cry, and Rumlow turned around just in time to see the pure fury on HYDRA's ex-asset's face as he all but growled, "Get away from him."

Rumlow expected a bullet to his own head, but instead, Bucky's left arm pulled back and then the disguised metal fist smashed into his jaw and shattered the bones like they were made of straw.

Rumlow didn't hit the ground, however. He was conditioned for this kind of pain and even more, so he stayed on his feet and decided to antagonize his attacker for good measure.

"Nice haircut." He spat out a mouthful of blood, vaguely aware of a tooth hitting the ground with it. Then Bucky hit him again, this time square in the middle of his face, and this time it was his nose that paid the price.

Bucky's face was utterly murderous, terrifying and nearly shaking with his anger. "I said get away from him."

A news helicopter flew by overhead. Rumlow figured now was his chance to turn the public against the Avengers and make life particularly difficult for one of their newest members.

---

Summer couldn't believe what she was seeing. Clint had all but disappeared, Natasha was nowhere to be seen, and Steve looked dead, face down on the ground. Wanda was blasting men in the face and Vision was helping her, but there was a lot of bad guys, and Rhodey and Tony were currently trying to keep a helicopter of said bad guys from crashing into a building after having knocked it out of the sky a little too forcefully.

And in the middle of all of this, she could see Bucky on the ground, fighting that raging dickhead Crossbones in the middle of all of it. Bucky wasn't recognizable, because his arm looked like a normal flesh arm and his face wasn't viable to the camera, but she knew it was him, and she watched in both horror and fascination as he and Crossbones began to fight each other in a way that was nothing short of brutal.

She didn't doubt Bucky's ability to handle himself, and the skill with which he fought the other man was mind-boggling, but she wasn't sure if she had ever been more scared in her life. She didn't want to watch for fear of what she might see, but she also couldn't rip her eyes away.

She held her breath, both hands over her mouth as the fight dragged on.

---

Bucky had never fought Rumlow before. The guy was good, especially with the added force of his suit, but Bucky didn't doubt the outcome of the fight for one minute. Each hit that Rumlow landed only made Bucky hit him back harder, and every chance he got, he ripped a piece of his suit away with his metal hand, leaving him more and more vulnerable with each one.

And the whole damn time, the bastard didn't shut up.

"You don't have to fight me, you know," Rumlow said, ducking to avoid the swinging of Bucky's dagger that just missed him. "You could come back with me. Stop playing dress up with the freak show."

Bucky might have laughed had Rumlow not then swung his fist at him with all his mechanically-aided might. Bucky caught his fist with his left hand, and it took a lot more strength than he would have admitted to keep it from smashing into him.

"Still not much for words I guess," Rumlow observed, before an electric current of some kind struck Bucky's arm through Rumlow's suit. It didn't hurt, but it paralyzed the arm, and then Rumlow smashed his head into Bucky's in a headbutt that almost knocked Bucky off his feet, but not quite. He staggered back, glaring at the other man and taking a moment to note the current state of things.

Steve was still knocked out on the ground. There was a second building on fire now, and it was Tony and Rhodey's fault, because the chopper they'd taken down had crashed into it when they failed to get it under control. The others were fighting the rest of Rumlow's men. It was just what Rumlow wanted - a damn circus that would ultimately reflect the most poorly on the Avengers.

He still couldn't move his left arm, but his right one was fine and the knife clutched in that hand was eager to make the man in front of him bleed. And so, with his most powerful arm temporarily useless as it quietly repaired itself, Bucky attacked again.

This time, he landed the knife a few times, but only in non-lethal areas and it didn't slow Rumlow down as much as he would have liked. But it was all strategic, and once his arm was back to being functional, he managed to rip off the main chest piece of armor and then sent Rumlow flying back into a car with a hard kick to his chest.

He glanced over to Steve. He was still down, but Natasha was there now, checking his pulse on his neck. They shared a brief look before Rumlow's voice stole Bucky's full attention back.

"Still pack a punch," he wheezed, trying to sit up. "Wonder what that pretty girl of yours thinks of that."

And with just that one sentence, Bucky's eyes and entire demeanor shifted from angry and combative to utterly deadly and brutal.

He descended upon the man with a fury, grabbing him by the neck and growling, "You say one word about her and I'll rip your head off."

"Yeah?" Rumlow asked, voice hoarse and cracking through the hold Bucky had on his throat. "Thought you'd do that anyway."

"I will if you don't shut the hell up," Bucky replied, squeezing tighter.

In the midst of his sputtering and gasping for air, Rumlow managed to actually laugh and choke out, "I thought you'd want revenge after I dropped the bomb on her house."

For one split second that felt like an eternity, Bucky froze. His hatred and anger towards HYDRA crystallized and concentrated into one point of focus, centered on one man who had just admitted to destroying Summer's home and nearly killing her and David in the process. He had never wondered who had been the one to give the order to drop the bomb, or who had been behind each attempt by HYDRA to grab him and drag him back into their clutches. But now that he knew who had been pulling the strings all along...

He let go of Rumlow's throat. Then he pulled a gun strapped to his back and shoved the barrel into the side of his neck, under the jaw he'd broken only moments ago.

"There you go," Rumlow muttered, straining to look down at the gun as it pressed against him. "That's more your style."

Bucky didn't see a man laying before him. He saw Summer's tears over losing her every possession to the explosion, and her limp, ashen body that he'd carried to safety just barely in time following the attack. He saw David's scared and bewildered eyes when Summer told him that their home was gone. He saw every single way that HYDRA had touched their lives since Bucky had known them.

Wearing that A on his shoulder meant that he was an Avenger. And if this wasn't something to avenge, then he didn't know what could ever be.

He turned off the safety on the gun and pressed it harder to Rumlow's throat. Rather than shake or tremble with anger and hatred, an eerie calm overcame him, and it was almost like welcoming an old friend after a long separation. This was what he knew. This was what he was best at. And this was justified.

He pulled the trigger. At least, he tried to. To his instant confusion, the trigger wouldn't budge. He tried to pull it again, only to fail once more.

He looked down at the gun angrily, trying to force the trigger back with his finger, but then he couldn't move his finger. In fact, his entire right arm was frozen, and glowing red, along with the gun.

He looked up and saw Wanda standing behind Rumlow only a few yards away, her hand outstretched and energy flowing from her fingertips to his arm.

He opened his mouth to rail at her. Curse, scream that this wasn't her problem and to leave him the hell alone and let him do this. But the words never left his mouth, because she beat him to it.

"It's not what we do," she reminded him gently. Then she closed her hand and returned control of his arm and his gun back to him.

It was just enough to pull him back from the brink and send that old friend, the cold-blooded soldier that haunted him from the dark corners from his mind, back to the past where it belonged.

He could kill Rumlow. Rumlow deserved it, more than most. But he didn't have to kill him. And most importantly, he simply wasn't worth it.

So instead, Bucky knocked Rumlow out with a brutal and efficient punch to his head. Then he looked up at Wanda again, and he expressed his thanks for her actions with a barely perceptible nod. She smiled just a little bit back, and then it was over. His job was done.

He left Rumlow in the hands of Wanda and Tony, who had swooped in just after Bucky had knocked him out. Then he went to Steve, who was still unconscious and still being tended to by Natasha. He would be okay, Bucky knew, but he couldn't shake the nagging sense of failure for having not gotten to the ground in time to protect him. Some instincts simply never died.

All around them, the fight was nearing its end. Rumlow's men were either captured, unconscious, or retreating. Buildings were burning but civilians were safe. There was no telling what the long term consequences of this mess would be, but a news helicopter whizzing overhead led Natasha to tell Bucky, "Go. Don't let them see you."

He nodded, looking down at Steve and then looking back up at her. She didn't need to hear him say the words to nod again and say without hesitation, "I've got him. Go."

And so, with his hands free of Rumlow's blood but mind full of resurfacing memories that would haunt him for the rest of the night, he left, and he didn't look back.

---

Summer paced the length of the little break room more times than even a mathematician could count. The live footage she had been watching had panned to the second building once the chopper hit it, and once it moved back to where Bucky and Crossbones had been fighting, they were both gone. And she had no idea what that meant.

And so, she went out of her mind with worry. Several times, she almost left the room to go roam the halls and try to find somebody, anybody, who could give her information on what had happened, but she didn't want to be that girl. It took all of her self control, but she managed to keep it together and just wait for someone to either call her or show up and put her mind at ease.

And sooner than she thought, someone did show up.

She had been scouring the Internet on her phone and rewatching footage that she had already seen when she heard the door open. She looked up and then audibly gasped when she saw Bucky himself walk through the door.

It didn't matter that he was bruised and bleeding from his cheek and hairline, not to mention wearing someone else's blood on his uniform and even in his hair. None of that mattered, because he was there and he was safe, and she ran to him so fast that he actually startled a little as she clung to him.

"Oh my God," she said as his arms wrapped around her and held her in turn, "I saw you on TV and you were fighting him but then you were gone and I didn't know what happened..."

"I'm fine," he assured her, pulling back and bringing his right hand to her face. "We're all fine."

"What about Steve? He was just laying there..."

"He'll be all right. He's downstairs getting patched up. I have to go too. Take David home. I'll be there later, okay?"

"But why can't you come with me now?" She asked, prepared to throw a fit over it if need be.

"Debriefing and... just go," he shrugged quietly. "Please. It's safe at the tower now. I don't want you and David to be miserable here all day."

Her urge to throw a fit slowly dissolved in the face of reality. She knew there were protocols following things like today, and no amount of whining would change that.

"When do you think you'll be home?" she asked quietly, looking him over and feeling her motherly instincts start running wild. He needed a shower and first aid and probably some food and a drink and...

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "Maybe late. I'll call you when I'm done here."

She nodded, then gave him a short but sweet kiss. He barely returned it, and she didn't expect anything more from him. "Okay. Just... I'm so glad you're okay. I was going crazy worrying."

"I know," he said, hugging her a bit closer for a moment.

"You got him, though, right?" she asked, looking up at him and watching his eyes become a bit more faraway looking at the question.

He nodded. "Yeah. We got him. He's going to prison."

"Good," she nodded. "Good. You looked great on TV, by the way."

She smiled at him, but he couldn't quite muster up a smile of his own. "Did you see my face, or..."

She quickly shook her head. "No. I didn't. You just looked like a normal agent. But I knew it was you."

Bucky nodded, then glanced at David, who was still wrapped up in his game on the couch. "Did he see anything?"

"No. I didn't let him watch. He has no idea what happened today."

Bucky nodded again, both of them in silent agreement that David's ignorance was for the best. Then Bucky drew a breath, kissed her forehead, and said, "I've gotta go."

"Okay," she nodded, reluctantly letting him go. He tried to smile at her before he turned and headed out the door, but it looked like more of a grimace than anything. She didn't want to let him leave without reminding him of one thing. "I love you."

He paused with his hand on the door, and his eyes grew sad as he gave his reply. "I love you too."

Then he turned and left, and Summer knew that whatever was spinning around in his head, it wasn't good. She knew that look in his eyes, and it had been exactly what she was afraid of seeing today.

He just needed to come home. The problem was, he didn't come home until much, much later that night.

---

She waited hours for his call. The day was long over and David was asleep in bed for the night, and she was still waiting. She dressed for bed and went to Bucky's room, feeling more at ease there as she checked her phone relentlessly but saw nothing.

None of the others were back yet, either. Thankfully, she had gotten a few texts of out Natasha that confirmed that everybody was okay, including Steve, who was as always a rather quick healer. But all she got from Bucky was silence, and she actually fell asleep with her phone in her hand, waiting for him to finally tell her that he was coming home.

Her phone finally buzzed, about an hour after she dozed off. She jerked awake, blinking rapidly and holding up the phone to find not an incoming call but a text, and a rather short one from him at that: On my way home.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Then she accidentally fell asleep again, during the hour-long wait for him to make the drive home.

The next time she jerked awake, it was because of the door opening and Bucky walking heavily through it. She immediately awoke and sat upright in the bed, her phone falling from her hand to the sheets, forgotten.

He was still in his uniform, which explained why his footsteps sounded so heavy. She rubbed away the sleep from her eyes and then focused on his slightly haggard appearance as she said lightly, "Hey."

He didn't answer, meeting her eyes and then looking away, closing the door behind him and then immediately reaching for the straps of the upper half of his uniform. Summer quickly moved off of the bed, getting to her feet and walking to him as she watched his right hand rather poorly try to work the suit off.

His cuts were patched up now, but even all these hours later, he still had someone else's blood in his hair and on his clothes. She carefully reached out and stilled his hand, and at that touch, Bucky finally met her gaze and held it.

He was a thousand miles away. And that was okay. That was what she had expected. She knew what to do when he was like this.

"Hey," she said softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, "it's okay. You're home." When he nodded, still not taking his eyes off of her, she said, "Let me go start a shower for you, okay?"

He grimaced a little, and she immediately thought better of the idea. He was undoubtedly exhausted, so maybe getting him off of his feet was a better idea. "Actually, I'll start you a bath."

When he didn't grimace again, she took that as a good sign. She left him standing there just in front of the door as she headed into the bathroom and turned on the water in the bathtub, wide awake now and hoping that she would be able to pull him out of whatever darkness was making him revert to his old habits of staring and not talking.

Once the water was running and at the right temperature - as hot as it could go without being painful - she straightened up and then turned around only to jump in surprise to find him standing right there.

"I'm sorry," he muttered as she smiled and patted her suddenly racing heart.

"It's okay. I'm sorry," she shrugged. It was hardly the first time he'd ever scared the crap out of her that way.

Bucky then glanced at the tub and said, "You don't have to do this. It's late and you were sleeping..."

"I do have to do this," she said resolutely, stepping closer to him. "You'd do it for me. You have done it for me."

He didn't argue with her. Instead, he looked down and watched as her fingers went to work getting the top of his uniform off. She had enough experience with doing this to be able to get it off relatively quickly. First went the holsters, then the many buttons on the leather strappings, and on it went until it was all a pile of pieces on the floor at their feet. He didn't say a word, and neither did she, and by the time her work was done, the tub was full and ready to be turned off.

He seemed a bit surprised by the fact that she then led him to the bathtub, getting him settled into it without taking off a stitch of her own clothes. Then he grew entirely confused when she knelt beside the tub, grabbing the necessary bottles and things while making no indication of getting in with him.

She thought he was a bit adorable, tired and confused and with that slight lost puppy look about him. But when he opened his mouth to speak, she gently pushed him against the back of the tub with her hand on his flesh shoulder and said, "Just... try to relax."

He still looked at her with slight confusion in his eyes, but he didn't say a word. She didn't either. Instead, she focused entirely on taking care of him and literally, and hopefully figuratively too, washing the day away.

She started with his hair, and the difference that her touch made was almost immediate. He let his eyes roll shut and his whole body loosened and relaxed as she used a small cup to pour water over his head, then gently massage his shampoo into his hair. She took her time, wondering by the way his breathing evened if she was putting him to sleep.

She continued to wonder as she rinsed and then conditioned his hair, but she got her answer once she was finished with it and then drew away to grab a washcloth she had on standby. When she turned back to him, his eyes were open again and staring tiredly into space, somewhere up near the ceiling.

She frowned and reached for him, touching his face and gently turning it until his eyes drifted to hers.

"Talk to me," she said softly, almost pleading.

He blinked once, then stared over her shoulder as his lips parted slightly. It was awhile until he spoke, so in the meantime, she got the washcloth wet and worked soap into it before softly swiping it over his shoulder first, then his chest.

Then he finally said something. "He was the one that blew up your house."

Her eyes flashed up to his, and her hand stilled over his chest. "You mean... the Crossbones guy?" He nodded. "He did it?"

Bucky nodded again. "Yeah."

Summer wasn't sure what to say. It was chilling to have a face and a name to ascribe the blame for that event to, even worse to know that it had been the same man who had been going around and blowing up crap seemingly indiscriminately for awhile now, but... there had to be more to why Bucky was as far away as he was.

"I wanted to kill him," Bucky said after a long pause. "I almost did."

"Why didn't you?" she asked quietly. She wouldn't have blamed or judged him if he had.

Bucky paused and looked away for a moment, then replied, "Wanda stopped me,"

Summer held back the little smile that those words brought to her face. She would have to give the woman an extra tight hug the next day.

"I'm glad," she replied, moving the washcloth again, this time down his right arm. "But I know that look in your eye. You're in the past right now."

Bucky didn't dispute her assumption. Instead, he stared off for another good few minutes before finally getting out several new words. "Seeing his face again, hearing his voice... it brought back things I didn't want to remember."

"Things... having to do with him?" she asked, now running the cloth along his neck.

"Just... times when he was there. Missions I hadn't remembered yet."

"Oh," she frowned. She saw the disgust in his eyes, that self-hatred that he didn't deserve but would likely always hold to some degree. Newly recovered memories weren't always good things. Sometimes they were simply the worst.

He grew quiet again. The only sounds in the room were the rustling of water as she continued to wash him, eventually making her way to his stomach before he spoke again and made her pause.

"I trusted him. Back then. I remember feeling... better if he was there."

His face twisted a bit then, maybe in confusion or just disappointment in himself, but she was quick to try to comfort him. "That's not your fault. Just like everything you did back then. None of it was your fault. You know that. And didn't Steve trust him too?"

Bucky gave the smallest of shrugs, and then as if her mention of Steve had reminded him of something, he muttered, "I couldn't even stop Steve from getting hurt today."

"Bucky," she said quietly, using her free hand to turn his face back to hers, "you're not... I don't know... Superman. Don't put all this stuff on yourself."

He looked away, even while she still held his face towards her, but she wouldn't let him drift away again. "Hey. Don't do this, okay? I know it's hard and I can't imagine what you're feeling, but... you're here. You're home. You're you. Nothing can change that now. Don't let that bastard get in your head."

This time, Bucky didn't look away. He stared into her determined eyes with his slightly lost ones, and she moved her fingers into his hair, willing him to stay with her and stay in the present.

But it seemed like it just wasn't enough. He may as well had been adrift, lost in memories that she was afraid to know the details of. So, she did the only thing that she could think of, which was to let go of him and sit back on her heels, then lift her shirt up over her head.

Then she stood up and undressed the rest of the way without a word and zero fuss. He wasn't so lost as to not notice that, and she took it as a good sign.

He watched her wordlessly but raptly as she left her clothes in a pile next to the tub and then carefully stepped into it. He shifted to make room for her, sitting up a little straighter and never taking his eyes off of her as she set herself in his lap, facing him, with her hands on his shoulders. His hands went to her hips out of habit, but he didn't make a move to touch her anywhere else or even kiss her, and that was okay, because that wasn't what this was about.

Then she said something that she knew he wasn't expecting to hear. "I'm proud of you."

His eyes softened some, but the confusion within them returned at those words. Her hands slid to his face, cradling it in her hands as she went on, "You saved lives today. And not just today. You've helped so many people since you started getting better. You're so much more than those memories. Just let them go."

It was easier said than done, and she knew that. But something in her words seemed to help him on some level, and he stared up at her for one long, sweet moment before leaning his head forward and resting it on her chest. His arms wrapped around her and held her close, and hers did the same to him. She closed her eyes and laid her cheek on top of his hair, letting out a breath and wishing away every last one of his troubles as he listened to her heartbeat flutter underneath her skin.

He had come so far. They both had. And today, as far as she was concerned, was only further proof of that.

She smiled and her eyes opened when his lips began softly kissing her, just over her heart. His right hand was trailing slowly up and down over her lower back, and when she pulled away and looked down into his eyes, her smile grew. He was there. He hasn't slipped away into the dark abyss of his past that he had confronted earlier that day. He was home and he was safe, and exactly where he belonged, which was in her arms.

"Thank you," he said softly. She knew that those words covered many different things that he was grateful for, and they were more than enough. She answered him with a kiss.

It was slow and soft, and she could have cried in relief at the way that he responded to it. There was nothing forced or half-hearted in the way that his lips moved against hers, or the way that his hands slid back down to her hips and gripped them just enough for her to understand his intent. There was little left to say with words, and their actions always seemed to have a way of making up for anything that may have been left unsaid.

Though the kiss began lazily and slowly, as the moments dragged on, it became something else. Summer hadn't planned on this, ironically, when she had crawled into the tub with him, but it felt incredibly right now that it was happening. His worst memories came from a time in his life where he hadn't been allowed to feel anything. Chasing those memories away with the very definition of feeling, both physically and emotionally, seemed like the perfect way to keep him in the present and away from those demons that lurked in the past.

His right hand left her side to slide into her hair as he stole away her control of the kiss, deepening it and then taking her surprise by sitting up straight and shifting them suddenly. Now she was level with him, no longer leaning down to kiss him, and she broke away with a small smile to catch her breath following the change.

He didn't quite smile back, but he didn't need to. He looked at her lips, ran his thumb over them, and then looked back up into her eyes and stared at her like she was the single most precious thing he had ever seen, both in this life and his last.

Then his hand slid back into her hair and pulled her back for another kiss, one that was deep and consuming from the start, and somewhere in the midst of it all, everything started to feel okay again.

She could keep sending him off to fight his wars if this was how they ended, with him safe and sound and trusting her to take care of him through both the best and the worst of it. This made it all incredibly worth it, and she had no doubt that they would both continue to come out of each battle stronger and closer in the end. She only hoped that he was just as sure of it as she was.

A/N: Aaaaand here we have the longest chapter yet! :D Also the longest and most difficult action scene I've ever written, and I REALLY hope you guys liked it. Action scenes will never be my forte, but hopefully it'll do lol. Also, in case anyone couldn't tell, I hate Rumlow. I really hate Rumlow. Like, the only MCU character I despise more is probably Pierce. Rumlow is just... so... ugh. I'll never understand why he has fangirls. And that's coming from someone who totally understands villain love. Lol. But ANYWAY.

One of the guest reviewers asked last week how many more chapters are left of this story, and while I am really not sure even though I've got the rest of it all planned out, I would say probably... 15-20 more? I don't have an exact number but that's probably a pretty good estimate. And I can say that a certain portion of the plot that I have been anticipating the very most of everything in the whole story is coming up in those future chapters and I am EXCITED. We're talking actual real plot here, people. Super plotty-plotness. Lol. So anyway, yeah. Keep reading. I've got good stuff coming. Which I always say, but I mean it even more this time. :p

Thank you all SO MUCH for reading and reviewing. Words cannot express how grateful I am that you guys keep reading each new gigantic chapter I throw at you all. Like, seriously. You're all the BEST. And I am excited to say that wedding things are happening VERY, very soon. *chokes and dies of excitement* Also, sidenote - a bunch of italics got underlined again in the process of uploading, and I tried to fix them all but if I missed some, forgive me lol. These things really bug me. But anyways.

Thanks also to midnightwings96 as always for her indispensable help with EVERYTHING and being amazing and just fracking awesome. I am incredibly excited for the next few chapters, and I'll try to get back on my Monday updating schedule, but if not... I'll see you all next Tuesday-ish :D