A/N: Soooo I am so sorry for last week and the horrible, gut-wrenching cliffhanger I left you guys on. I really am. I'm just... well... I'm evil, basically, and after so long of this story being all puppy dogs and rainbows, I was pretty much tingling with glee over getting to smash all the happiness and plunge everyone into misery lol. This part of the story has been planned by myself and midnightwings96 for a LONG time, and we've both been anticipating it SO HARD lol. I can tell you guys that what I fully believe are the best parts of the story are still yet to come, and I can also say that we're officially in the homestretch. That's right, we are slowly approaching the end of this story. Now with that being said, there's still PLENTY of chapters to go and it's not like the end is right around the corner, but this is basically the final phase of things, if that makes sense. And then once I finish this story, next is an AU with the same characters that is already ruining my life as midnightwings96 and I plot it but anyway BACK TO THE TASK AT HAND :p
Thank you guys SO MUCH for reading and reviewing, and for all of your reactions to the last chapter. I am sorry, once again lol, but I hope this chapter makes up a bit for leaving you guys hanging like that. I LOVE you all, and I will see you next week :D
"I would say that maybe you should slow down," Natasha said as Steve flew through a red light without so much as blinking, "but I know I'd be wasting my breath."
Steve tightened his grip on the steering wheel and said nothing, sparing the shortest of glances to his blind spot before changing lanes to pass a few cars obeying the speed limit. He was driving like a maniac but a very safe one, if that was even possible, so Natasha remained quiet after exchanging a quick glance with Sam in the backseat.
"I just don't understand how they found him," Sam said, echoing one of the many thoughts running through Steve's frantic head. "I thought you and Tony were keeping him under the radar."
"We are," Natasha replied. "We were. Must have been someone who saw him and recognized him, or... maybe a security camera somewhere."
"Maybe someone at the office isn't happy he's on the team," Sam said.
"Only level seven and over even know about him," Natasha replied. "He's as safe at the facility as he could be anywhere."
Steve, nearly pushing the speedometer into triple digits, kept his eyes fixed in an almost murderous glare on the road. They were getting closer to their exit, and soon he'd be forced to drive at slightly more reasonable speeds.
"I know, but still," Sam sighed. "Had to be somebody tipping them off. As long as it is the FBI and not HYDRA."
"I already confirmed with my contact at the Bureau," Natasha quickly replied. "It's legitimate. They took him to an undisclosed location. Probably underground somewhere that isn't supposed to exist."
Though it hardly seemed possible, Steve's jaw managed to tighten even more. He slowed down just a little bit and took their exit, managing to slip past a few other cars and earning a few well-deserved honks in the process.
Natasha, looking at Steve with unhidden concern in her green eyes, said gently, "Steve, I know this is bad, but you need to calm down. We need to handle this the right way, and you look like you're going to start breaking skulls as soon as we get there."
His voice low and tightly controlled, Steve replied, "They went to his home, Natasha. They pointed their guns at him and took him in front of his wife and kids."
"But can you look at me and honestly say you thought he'd go the rest of his life without this happening?" Natasha asked, and it was not a question that Steve wanted to contemplate.
As it turned out, he didn't need to. Before he knew it, he was turning on to the neighborhood street that Bucky and Summer's rented home sat on, and the line of black, unmarked vehicles parked on both sides of the road confirmed that agents were still there. Steve knew they'd be combining through the house, probably confiscating computers and whatever they could get their hands on for evidence, and the thought of that made him even angrier.
What he couldn't think about was Bucky, wherever he was, being held in restraints meant to immobilize a super soldier, having just been ripped away from his family to now be thrown in some cage somewhere so far off the map that nobody but his captors would know where he was. All Steve could think about, all that was worthy of his focus, was the injustice of this happening to an innocent man who had one given his life for his country and endured endless torture and worse at the hands of its enemies. He'd been through so much and overcame more than any one person ever should, became a hero again and earned his role on the Avengers' team, but none of that mattered to the government.
Steve parked the car on Summer's driveway and quickly hopped out of the car, Natasha taking his left and Sam his right as he marched up to the front door. There were a couple of gun-toting SWAT agents there standing guard, one of whom immediately said once they got close, "Back up, sir - nobody goes in or out until we're done here."
Steve didn't budge or even blink as he kept walking and replied lowly, "You know damn well who I am and you're gonna let me in before I force my way in."
"Sir -"
Steve managed to stand up even straighter and looked down at the man with all of the fury that had been brewing inside ever since he'd gotten Summer's call. "Move."
After paling slightly behind his tactical mask, the agent did indeed move, and Steve didn't hesitate to storm inside with Natasha and Sam right behind him. He passed the kitchen and walked straight to the living room, where he found his best friend's wife and kids huddled together on a couch while some agent in a suit sat in front of them rattling off question after question.
Summer's eyes were red and puffy when she looked up and saw Steve, relief instantly pouring across her distressed features. Adelaide was burrowed in her arms, quiet but obviously scared, and David was hiding his face behind Summer's shoulder and trembling slightly.
Some of Steve's fury gave way to heartbreak. As he came closer, he heard the agent telling Summer, "... But like I said, you're going to have to talk to us sooner or later and it'll be easiest for you and your kids if we get this done now."
"Leave her alone," Steve barked at the man, who looked up at him and then sighed before seemingly relenting for the moment. Steve then turned to Summer and said, "Don't talk to any of these people."
"I haven't," she assured him, trying briefly to stand up, but the kids hanging on her prevented her from moving from her seat. "I haven't said a word." Her eyes flickered from Steve to Natasha and Sam right behind him, and she said quietly, "Thank you all so much for coming so fast."
Steve nodded and leaned down so he could put his hand on her arm. "We're gonna figure this out, okay? I'm gonna do everything I can to fix this."
Summer nodded, fresh tears coming to her bloodshot blue eyes, and Steve gave her arm a reassuring squeeze before the sound of the man in the suit's voice distracted them both.
"Look, Mr. Rogers, as much as I'm sure you think you're probably helping here, you're not. This is a federal investigation and..."
Steve turned around then, looking down at the sitting man with eyes full of the anger coursing through his veins. "And what? That means you people get to ransack this house and scar a couple of kids for life even though you already got what you came here for? And now you're interrogating this woman?"
The man stood up. "Listen, Captain -"
"Who's in charge here?" Steve demanded as Natasha sat down next to Summer, holding her hand and speaking to her quietly. Sam stood watch, keeping an eye on the agents carrying out items from the house that they apparently thought they needed for evidence.
"I am," the man replied tersely before taking out his ID badge and showing it, "and you and your friends have no jurisdiction here."
Setting his jaw, Steve asked while gesturing to Summer, "Are you going to arrest her?"
"Well, as the wife of the most wanted fugitive in the United States, we certainly have a lot of questions for her and -"
"But are you going to arrest her tonight?" Steve pressed.
The man paused and pursed his lips, glancing at Summer and then replying, "No. But it's not out of the question, considering she's clearly been harboring a fugitive for a significant amount of time. And I'm willing to bet she's not the only one."
The agent looked pointedly at Steve and the other two Avengers present, and they all stared back blankly without the slightest hint of shame or wariness. Adelaide began squirming in Summer's arms, whimpering before looking around and starting to cry all over again. Natasha had tried to place a soothing hand on David's back, but he had merely flinched before burrowing deeper behind Summer on the couch. It had been several years since Steve had seen him act like that.
"You tore a family apart tonight," Steve told the agent quietly. "If you're going to arrest any of us, then arrest us. If not, then leave this woman alone and let her and her kids have some time to deal with what just happened. And if you want to talk to her, you call and make an appointment and you don't bully her while she's still in shock."
The agent wasn't impressed with Steve or a single word he said, but he eventually shoved his hands in his pockets and said, "This investigation is just beginning. We're all gonna be seeing a hell of a lot of each other."
He then walked away, and Steve glared at his back before turning and giving his attention back to Summer. She was trying to hush Adelaide, who was bordering on inconsolable, and Steve asked with a helpless look on his face, "Is there anything I can do to help?"
Summer, doing her best to rock her baby back and forth, furrowed her brows and shook her head as tears filled her eyes yet again. "I don't know. I can't believe this is real. I can't believe..." Summer's face crumpled and her voice broke, unable to finish her sentence.
Natasha wrapped her arm around Summer's shoulder, and Steve knelt down in front of Summer and put his hand over one of hers as he said with the utmost sincerity, "We're gonna get him back."
"But Steve," Summer said, sniffing back another wave of tears, "he's... he killed a President. They're never gonna..."
"But we both know that he's innocent in every way that counts," Steve replied. "We're gonna prove that. We're gonna get him back, Summer. You know that I'm gonna do everything I can to fix this."
"We all are," Natasha nodded.
"We need to get you guys out of here," Sam interjected. "There's neighbors walking around outside with their cell phones and I'm willing to bet it won't be long until this ends up on the news."
"They haven't announced the arrest yet," Natasha said, "but you don't want to be here with the kids when they do."
"We'll get you guys to the tower," Steve said. "Safest place to be right now."
Summer nodded, then closed her eyes briefly and said, "We never should have left the tower. Maybe this wouldn't have happened if I hadn't been so stupid wanting a stupid 'normal' house..."
"We don't know why this happened," Steve said gently, "but it's not your fault. None of this is your fault." He then paused and said, "I'll be right back, okay?"
Summer nodded, then said in her shaky but clear voice, "Thank you, Steve, for everything. I don't know what I'd do without all of you."
"Well, you don't ever get to find out," Steve said before getting back to his feet, giving her hand one last squeeze. He and Sam shared a look before they both headed off together towards the swarm of agents still going in and out of the house as if they owned the place.
Meanwhile, Summer was on the verge of losing it. She'd been holding on despite crying a steady stream of never-ending tears ever since Bucky had been ripped away from her, and now that her friends were there and she was no longer alone, the trauma of it all was starting to catch up with her. That, coupled with Adelaide's crying and David's simmering meltdown as he stayed wedged between her and the couch, resulted in her finally losing her wits.
She had been trying to get Adelaide to nurse, knowing it would help calm the child down, but Adelaide was having none of it and instead simply kept wailing in her arms. Frustrated and terrified and half convinced that she'd never see her husband and father of her children again, Summer began to shake her head and mutter, "I can't do this. I can't. I don't know how, I don't... I can't... I'm..."
Luckily, she had a best friend who knew that she was a lot stronger than she was giving herself credit for. "Summer, look at me."
Summer looked at Natasha, who was still half-hugging her, and the tears continued to fall as Natasha looked her square in the eyes and told her, "You can do this. You have to. You're strong and you know it."
"I don't feel strong," Summer admitted. "I feel useless and stupid and..."
"But you're not," Natasha told her, "and as horrible as all of this is, it's reality and you have to deal with it. You have to be strong for yourself and your kids. Weakness isn't an option."
Knowing that she was right, Summer let out a choked breath and did her best to breathe in a much deeper one. She closed her eyes and nodded her head. "Okay. Okay, I'll try."
"No, you're not going to try," Natasha said. "You're going to do it. It's the only way to get through this."
Summer looked at her, taking in the pure confidence and assurance in Natasha's eyes, giving away how much she truly believed in Summer. It was just what Summer needed to pull herself together and remember that she was strong and that she could do this, even if she'd never faced anything like this before.
For the first time since Bucky had been taken, she truly breathed. She took comfort in no longer being alone and knowing that she and Steve and the others were going to fight for Bucky, and after a few moments spent calming down as much as she could given the situation, something remarkable happened. Adelaide calmed down, too, and in just a few moments, she was nursing and drifting off to sleep following her traumatic night.
David was another story, and Summer feared for what all of this would mean for his mental state. Things had been so stable for so long and he'd taken such huge strides, even starting to talk a little bit here and there, as recently as that night. Now not only had his routine been shot to hell, but he'd watched his adopted father be dragged away from their home at gunpoint by federal agents, and he was acting more terrified than he had been when his own life had been threatened at the age of five. She had the feeling that the following days would be some of the hardest of David's life so far.
"I need to pack some bags," Summer said once Adelaide was asleep in her arms. She looked up at Nat and said, "Can you help me? If those guys are still going through my stuff -"
"Yeah, of course," Natasha nodded, just before their attention was stolen by the sounds of arguing taking place just outside the front door.
Natasha got up and walked to the door, carefully looking out and finding Summer's brother to be the cause of the arguing. He was standing there arguing vehemently with the same agent who'd tried to keep herself and Steve out, and as soon as he saw Natasha standing there, he focused on her and asked, "What the hell is going on?"
Rather than answer directly, Natasha eyed the agent acting as a barrier and said, "This man is immediate family. Let him in."
"Ma'am, my orders are -"
Just then, the "agent in charge" walked past Natasha and out of the house, saying, "We got what we came for. Let him in. Doesn't matter."
Paul gave both agents a withering glare before quickly making his way inside, walking with Natasha to the living room where Summer still was. He stared wide-eyed at the state of the house, which looked like it had been ransacked by the FBI, and then he rushed to Summer's side.
"What happened?"
Summer looked at her brother wearily, appreciating his presence and wishing that she could just throw herself into his arms like she had when she was a kid and other kids had been being mean to her. He couldn't defend her from these particular bullies, however, so she replied quietly, "They came and took Bucky. They arrested him. He's gone."
Paul stared at her in disbelief, then looked at Adelaide's tear-streaked cheeks and David still in distress behind Summer. "My God, Summer. I was on my way over here and I saw the cars and the lights and..."
"It happened so fast," Summer half-whispered back, shaking her head slightly. "One minute everything was fine, and we were just sitting here together and Adelaide said 'da da' for the first time, and David said 'Daddy'..."
Paul's eyes widened slightly. "He spoke?"
Summer nodded. "Then someone knocked on the door and it was this... guy, asking if he could use the phone, and then the next thing I know there's like a hundred guys with guns in here and..."
Staring at her in horror, Paul half-gaped for a moment before saying, "I thought... I thought you guys were safe here. I thought..."
Summer shook her head. "I guess we never were safe. I don't know. I don't know how this happened." Then, after adjusting Adelaide in her arms, she asked Paul, "Can you take her and stay here with David? I've got to get them to the tower and I need to pack."
Paul nodded immediately, holding out his arms to take the child. After carefully handing her over, Summer gave her brother a hug and said, "I love you."
He squeezed her back with his one free arm, looking at her helplessly after she pulled away from the hug. "I love you too. I just... I don't even know what to say."
Summer looked at David, now hiding his face with his hands as he continued huddling against the couch. Then she turned back to Paul and muttered, "I don't either."
Then, after Natasha put a comforting hand on Summer's shoulder, she glanced at the other woman and then took a deep breath before heading out of the living room for the first time since she'd watched Bucky be taken from them.
Her house was a disaster, but most of the men had gone now, aside from a few still emptying Bucky's small armory in the basement. She had a couple guns down there too that she legally owned, but she didn't have the energy to care. Instead, she marched to her bedroom and then stopped dead in the doorway at what she saw.
For some reason, she'd expected more care from federal agents. Adelaide's crib that she kept in hers and Bucky's room was shoved against the wall, all of their drawers open, every computer they owned seized. Bucky's phone was gone. One of their wedding photos on the wall was gone - frame still intact and present, but the photo itself gone.
She took a breath, steeling herself, and then she walked inside and grabbed one of her empty bags from the closet. She operated on autopilot, moving from the bedroom and bathroom, grabbing clothes and necessities for herself and her kids. She almost started to pack some of Bucky's clothes, until she remembered that he wasn't with them anymore. It was enough to nearly break her all over again.
But she kept it together because, as Natasha had reminded her, she needed to. While she grabbed an extra pair of shoes from her closet, she looked down and noticed Bucky's birthday present knocked down to the ground, just by her feet. She quickly picked up the book of boudoir photos and shoved it into her bag, definitely not wanting that to fall into anyone else's hands.
By the time that she was ready, she had three bags packed and more than enough for her and the kids to get by for about a week. Natasha helped her carry them out to the living room, where Paul, the kids, Steve and Sam were all waiting together. The agents were officially gone, leaving her home - and her life - a shell of what it had been before.
"Ready?" Steve asked gently, standing in the middle of the living room while the others say.
She nodded. "Yeah."
Sam got up and took her bags from her, giving her a small hug in the process. She thanked him before he took the bags outside to the car, and then silence fell upon the room for a few brief moments.
Steve broke the silence. "We have to get him out."
"We can't break him out, Steve," Natasha replied from her place standing next to Summer. "We don't even know where he is,"
"But we'll find out," Steve replied, "and when we do -"
"It would only make things worse," Natasha argued. "This isn't HYDRA, Steve. It's not Austria, either. You can't punch your way inside and break him out of this one."
"What am I supposed to do?" Steve asked, eyes and tone a bit desperate. "Sit back and do nothing? Just let them take him and do God knows what to him wherever they're keeping him?"
Summer's heart was with Steve, but her head knew that Natasha was right and that really, there was no choice to be made. "She's right, Steve," she said, her tone broken and dull. "You can't break him out."
Steve stared at her like she was the very last person he expected to side against him. "But Summer -"
"You can't," Summer restated. "He's... he can't run forever. He can't. This is horrible but maybe this was always going to happen. Maybe it was unavoidable. And I don't know what they're planning on doing with him because they didn't even read him his rights, but..."
Natasha suddenly looked at Steve with a knowing, dark look. Steve's face fell.
"What?" Summer asked.
"It means that most likely," Natasha replied, "they don't plan on charging him with his crimes and trying him in civilian court. Miranda rights are for American citizens, not assassins working for sworn enemies."
Summer stared at Natasha before blinking and asking, "You mean the Soviet Union? But that was years ago!"
"It doesn't matter," Natasha said. "He assassinated a President while he was working for the KGB. That's the crime that'll define him in the eyes of the government."
Steve looked as sickened as Summer felt. "He won't get a fair trial," he muttered. "He might not get a trial at all."
"That needs to be our focus," Natasha decided. "Getting him a real trial."
"How?" Summer asked, feeling what little hope she had left start slipping away.
Sam, who had returned a few moments earlier from getting the car packed and was back at Steve's side, said, "He was a war hero. Everyone who ever paid attention in history class knows his name. Least they could do is give him a fair trial, just because of that and who he was."
"And everyone knows he was brainwashed," Summer added. "I knew that three days after I met him because of the SHIELD leak. It's all over his files. It's not like he consciously defected to Russia, or HYDRA."
"That needs to be our angle," Natasha said.
Everyone was agreed on that point, but the problem was that it was after midnight and nothing could be done until at least the following morning. Everyone in the room being well aware of this, it was Sam who next suggested they get going, and Summer nodded before taking a breath and turning to her still-distraught son.
It took a bit of coaxing, but Summer managed to scoop David up into her arms. It wasn't easy either, considering how much he had grown, but she got him into a semi-comfortable carrying position and then nodded to Paul. He got up and followed her out the door, Adelaide still asleep in his arms, and they followed the others out towards the car.
On their way out the door, Summer paused and looked back into her home. It was the first real home that she'd lived in since she lost her grandmother's house to HYDRA, and it was the very first place that she and Bucky had chosen to live in together. They'd brought Adelaide home from the birthing center there, raised her and her brother there, and they'd all been so incredibly happy underneath that roof.
Now, to Summer, the house merely stood there like a monument to the fantasy she'd indulged so long, that somehow she could marry the Winter Soldier, have his children, and never have to face the reality of him being a very, very wanted man.
"Summer," Paul said quietly, interrupting her rather morose moment. "Come on."
She nodded, taking a breath and resuming her walk to the car, leaving her home and the life that she'd had there behind. For how long, only time would tell.
Summer's unexpected return to the tower was met with little fanfare, and she was grateful for it. Tony wasn't there, apparently having a late night at the Avengers facility per Steve's request. Clint had called Natasha on their way to the tower, and though Summer didn't have the energy or wits to talk to him herself, he relayed his shock through Nat as well as an offer of his help in any capacity that Summer needed. She was grateful for the support and made sure to express it, but she could still hardly believe that it was all even real.
Upon her arrival at the tower, she was met at the elevator by Wanda, who was still clad in her witch costume from the party. The look on the woman's face took Summer by surprise, but really, she shouldn't have been surprised at all - David had all but adopted her into the family, and if there was anyone in the world who was like a little sister to Bucky, it was her.
Wanda hugged Summer the minute she stepped off of the elevator, and afterwards she turned to David who was holding Summer's hand and refusing to make eye contact with anyone.
"He's been like this since it happened," Summer explained, her voice a little hoarse and flat. Wanda knelt in front of the boy, touching his face and getting zero response from him. "I don't know what to do."
Wanda pursed her lips and reluctantly stood up, looking down at the sleeping baby in Summer's arms. "Your old room here, I tried to prepare it when I heard that you were coming here. There's really just the bed, but I found some sheets and put them on."
"Thank you," Summer sighed, fully sincere. "You didn't have to do that."
Wanda shook her head slightly, then glanced at Steve who was pacing nearby on the phone. "I can't believe this happened."
Summer opened her mouth to echo those sentiments, but then Adelaide began squirming and threatened to wake. Wanda quickly fell silent and then led Summer to her old room, helping to keep David walking there when he let go of Summer's hand and tried not to budge.
The old room was indeed empty, with just Summer's old bed and a table and empty dresser within it. But that was enough for that night, and Summer kept the lights off as she carefully laid Adelaide down in the bed. By a small miracle, she stayed asleep, but David was another story.
Wanda had gotten him into the room, but as soon as they'd crossed the threshold, he had sat down on the floor with his arms hugging his knees and then refused to move from that spot. Once Adelaide was taken care of, Summer quietly made her way to the boy and tried to coax him up, but every time she touched him he recoiled and made a low whining sound, like he was on the verge of screaming.
"David," Summer said gently, trying her best to not touch him, "I know you're scared. I am too. We've been through some scary things tonight, but we're safe now, and... and tomorrow we're all gonna start working on getting Daddy back home, okay?"
Her words, however, were of no use. He was on edge, his mind racing, comfort zone shot to hell, and he started scrunching up his face like she knew he did before a bout of screaming was coming.
"David," she said cautiously, "David, honey, why don't we go get in bed with a movie? Or a game? I've got your tablet and your movies, so..."
She made the mistake of unthinkingly giving his arm a tug. That one touch set him off, and he jerked back away from her, hit the back of his head on the wall, and the meltdown officially began.
It had been so long since he'd had a fit like the one that was starting that Summer's heart dropped into her chest and her eyes filled up with tears. It was beyond her control and beyond David's as well, and all there was to do was let it run its course, let him scream, and try to not let him hurt himself in the process.
Back on the bed, Adelaide started rolling around. Summer looked up and noticed this, knowing that she would undoubtedly wake up fully any minute, thanks to all the noise. She didn't know what to do, and it was as she was feeling more helpless than she had in a very long time that Wanda gently touched her arm and offered a suggestion.
"I can help him," she said. "Will you let me?"
Summer stared at her. "You mean like... get in his head?"
"Yes," Wanda nodded. "But only if you allow it."
Summer nodded. "Okay. Yeah. Do it."
Wanda nodded, then turned to David and, carefully and with a great deal of focus, lifted one of her hands and shifted her fingers as red energy flowed from her fingertips to his head. Summer watched as Wanda's eyes glowed the same shade of scarlet as the energy, and then David's brown eyes began to glow as well. His screams tapered off, his body began to relax, and his breathing slowly calmed as Wanda's gifts began to work their magic.
Summer picked him up and cradled him in her arms once he was fully calmed, eyes open but unfocused and mind obviously not quite there. He remained like that for a few moments, just drifting and growing more and more relaxed, and very soon, he was sound asleep.
"Whoa," Summer marveled. "He's... he's okay, right?"
"Of course," Wanda assured her. "I took him back to his happiest memory. Almost like he was able to live it over again. Then, once it had calmed him, he fell asleep on his own. He was exhausted."
"His happiest memory?" Summer repeated. "What was it?"
"If I told you," Wanda warned her, "it would only make you more sad."
Summer hesitated, but because she was never one to shy away from dumping even more misery on her own head, she replied, "It's okay. I want to know."
"It was your wedding," Wanda said quietly.
"Really?" Summer asked, eyes widening just a little bit. "My wedding? But... that day was kind of boring for him, and..."
"It doesn't matter," Wanda shrugged. "To him, it's the day he gained a father and you three became a family. It was his dream coming true."
Wanda was right. Knowing this only made Summer more sad, and it brought a fresh wave of tears to her eyes. Looking down at David's now-peaceful face, remembering that happy day herself and how utterly perfect it had been, it only made the ache in her heart worse.
"Thank you, Wanda," Summer said, holding the tears back for now. "Thank you for helping him."
Wanda nodded. "Of course."
Wanda helped Summer up to her feet a few seconds later, and Summer carried David to the bed and laid him down next to his sister. After she pulled the cover over him and made sure that he was comfortable, she took a step back and wondered what the hell to do next.
She couldn't sleep. She was exhausted but wide awake. She felt a bit like a car with its brakes cut, unable to stop or slow down and at the mercy of forces beyond her influence. She was halfway tempted to ask Wanda to just voodoo her into a coma, but instead, she took the woman up on an offer to go out and get a drink from the kitchen with her.
Leaving her old room behind and her kids sleeping safely within it, Summer trudged behind Wanda and was halfway to the kitchen when something else caught her eye. In the living room, Sam and Natasha were sitting close to one another, working on something on Nat's computer, and Steve was off standing in front of one of the floor-length windows. He was staring out at the night skyline, silent and looking as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Summer told Wanda she'd be back and then started walking towards Steve, feeling the way that he looked. As much as the night's events had hurt her and her kids, she knew that this was all just as hard for Steve to stomach.
She quietly came up behind him, looking out the window with her bleary eyes and just standing there with him, not saying a word. Words weren't necessary at first, but eventually Steve was the first to speak.
"I keep feeling like I need to do something," he said quietly. "Like I'm wasting time that I should be spending getting him back, but..."
"... But there's nothing you can do," Summer finished for him. For Steve in particular, that feeling of powerlessness had to be among the worst feelings in the entire world.
"It's not like we didn't always know this might happen," Steve muttered, slightly shaking his head. "It's just... I'd hoped it wouldn't. And definitely not like this."
Summer, still staring out the window, swallowed and then asked, "Do you think that there's really a chance for him? I mean... we know that it wasn't really him who killed all those people, but... we also love him. They don't."
"If Tony can forgive him for what he did to Howard," Steve said resolutely, "then the government can at least give him a fair trial."
"But will they?"
Steve looked away from the window then, looking Summer straight in the eye with all of the conviction in the world. "I'm gonna do everything in my power to make sure that they do. I can promise you that."
Summer nodded, tears stinging the back of her eyes. "But even if they do, it still might not make a difference."
"Summer," Steve said quietly but fiercely, turning to face her fully, "you can't think like that. We can't think like that."
"But... realistically..."
"Realistically he never should have survived falling off a train or remembered me after what HYDRA did to him, but he did," Steve reminded her. "He did. He's been through worse than this before. And he has all of us on the outside to make sure that he gets through this too."
Summer nodded, sniffing back a tear trying to escape and wondering if Steve was actually this full of faith or merely too desperate to believe anything else. Regardless of how forced it might have been, she latched on to his optimism and clung to it for dear life.
"I don't know what I'd do if he didn't have you," Summer said. "I don't think I'd have hardly any hope if you weren't here to fight for him."
"I'm not just fighting for him," Steve told her sincerely.
Summer managed to give him a small, watery and grateful smile, and he thankfully pulled her into a hug before she started crying again. She held on to him tightly, soaking up the comfort for what it was and praying that they weren't both fools for trying to have some hope.
There was a lot that she didn't and couldn't know yet about how all of this was going to unfold, but she did know that Steve would go to the ends of the earth to bring her husband back home. He'd done it before, and he'd do it again.
They both just had to hold on and not let being, for then, utterly powerless steal what hope they had.
It was hard but eventually Summer managed to get some sleep that night. Not a lot, but enough that when Adelaide woke her up the following morning by smacking her cheeks repeatedly with her determined little hand, she was able to wake up and stay up.
For the most part, Adelaide seemed perfectly fine. She wasn't yet one year old, so she was resilient and lucky enough to have a limited short term memory. She would miss her Daddy, of course, and the trauma of the night before wouldn't just go away and be forgotten so easily, but she was a baby. Babies bounced back the way older kids and adults just couldn't.
David was still sound asleep, so Summer let him be and quietly got up with Adelaide. He needed the rest, and she needed to call his school and let them know that he'd be out for at least a few days. There was a lot to do and it was already late morning, so after getting both herself and Adelaide into new clothes and brushing their teeth - Adelaide had about six of them now - she headed out out of her room and towards the kitchen.
She didn't quite make it to the kitchen, however, because the television in the living room and everyone standing in front of it stole her attention.
Steve, Natasha, Sam, Wanda and Tony were all there, Steve standing while the others sat. They were watching a live press conference, and after reading the scroll on the bottom identifying the man behind the podium as the director of the FBI, Summer got a very sick feeling in the pit of her gut at once.
Steve glanced at her once she walked into the living room, standing to his left and holding Adelaide on her hip. She looked at him and found that he looked as sick as she felt.
The headline on the bottom of the screen was Winter Soldier in FBI custody.
"... So like I said, this has been a very long investigation with a lot of ups and downs and the trail went cold more than once," the director told the roomful of reporters. "It took a lot of cooperation from the CIA and other agencies, foreign intelligence too, but this case never stopped being a priority and we're very proud to have gotten this far."
He then signaled for another question, and while the reporter's question couldn't be heard on the TV, it wasn't hard to figure out what it had been.
"Well, that's one of the things that's being determined right now as we speak. There's a lot to consider. The White House is involved, the Attorney General's involved. It's not ultimately my decision. But we've been operating under the assumption that once we brought him in, he'd most likely be tried in a military tribunal, but like I said, it's still being determined. We've got awhile to go before we get there."
Summer looked at Steve, knowing that wasn't good. That was what they didn't want.
Another reporter then asked another question, and the director nodded a few times before taking a breath and answering, "Yeah, yeah, that's correct. And again, I'll reiterate that nobody was harmed during the raid. We were very aware of the fact that he was living with a wife and kids and we wanted to make sure that we minimized the risks of any of them getting hurt."
At the mention of Bucky's wife and kids, the news scroll on the bottom ran across the screen with something that Summer had never expected to see on a cable news network under the words breaking news: her name, identifying her as the 29 year old wife of the now-incarcerated Winter Soldier.
It suddenly felt as if all the air had gone from the room. But things could still yet get worse, and they did.
As the FBI director continued to speak, the network then showed Bucky's mugshot on the left side of the screen. That was when Summer really began to find it hard to breathe, and it was also when Adelaide pointed at the TV and exclaimed, "Da da!"
Every head in the room turned and every eye went to the little girl, who started squirming in Summer's arms and trying to get down. Summer set her down, and she immediately ran up to the TV, babbling about her daddy all the while and having no idea why his face was on that big screen.
Summer's heart felt like it breaking all over again, and not just because of how hard Adelaide was trying to reach her little hand up to touch Bucky's picture on the television. Even worse than that was the photo itself, and Bucky's face within it.
In the photo, he was in the same black t-shirt they'd taken him in, and his hair was still up but with quite a few pieces falling near his face, probably thanks to the rough handling of the agents. He looked angry, sad, regretful, and resigned all at the same time. To the average American tuning into the news, they might have thought this he looked merely defiant and unhappy about being arrested, but Summer could read him better than anyone and she could see the truth written on his face in plain English. He was devastated.
It was as she began to softly cry for what felt like the thousandth time in the last day that she felt a smaller hand take her own. It was David, awake now and staring at the TV too, as Adelaide continued to chant da da and poke at the photo. Summer looked down at David, who was calm for the time being, and then she hugged him to her side before looking up at Steve.
Everything had changed in the course of just one night, and now everything was about to change even more. Summer's name was on the news, now and forever linked to one of the most feared assassins in American history. If she knew the way that the media worked, her kids' names would be next. Nothing would ever be the same again.
Steve's phone rang. He stepped away to answer it, leaving Summer to continue numbly listening to the FBI director drone on casually about the love of her life and how pleased he was to have Bucky in his custody. In Steve's absence, Tony got up and walked over to Summer and put a comforting hand on her upper arm.
"How you holding up, kid?" he asked quietly.
"I'm... I don't know," she replied honestly. "I don't think I can even comprehend right now what all of this means."
Tony nodded understandingly. "Well... I'm not gonna pretend that I can say a damn thing to make any of this better for you. But you're not alone. Anything you need, let me know."
Summer nodded. Tony's support, all things considered, meant a great deal to her. "Thank you."
Steve came back a moment later, putting his phone back into his pocket. "That was Sharon. I know who tipped off the Feds."
Summer didn't know who Sharon was, but her eyes flew to Steve and her ears perked right up. All eyes fell on Steve, who suddenly looked slightly murderous as he told the group, "It was Rumlow. Part of a plea deal that took the death penalty off the table and sent him to a medium security level prison instead of a maximum."
"All he knew was that Bucky was alive and working with us," Natasha pointed out.
Steve then looked at Summer apologetically and said, "I know. He didn't give them information on Bucky. He gave them your name and told them you were the key to finding him."
Summer's heart fell in her chest all over again. "Oh God. The... my name was on the lease. His name wasn't on anything but mine was on everything."
Steve nodded. "They were watching you for weeks."
She thought that she might be sick. Still holding David's hand, Summer moved to one of the couches and sunk down on it, feeling lightheaded and processing this new information as best as she could, which wasn't very well.
It was too much. She felt like she was on the verge of being overwhelmed again, like the night before, though she couldn't afford to let it happen again. But how could she stop it?
David throwing his arms around her and squeezing her in his own version of a sweet and comforting hug ended up bringing her out of the fog. She hugged him back, holding him tight and looking over his shoulder to Adelaide, who was yelling in baby language at the TV because it was now on commercials and not showing pictures of her daddy anymore.
One of Bucky's old HYDRA handlers turned enemy whose life Bucky had spared during a fight just before his wedding to Summer had been the one to bring all of this about. And yet all Summer could think was that maybe, if they hadn't had the lease or the car or anything else that she'd signed her name upon, and if she'd stayed as under the radar as Bucky had, then maybe this wouldn't be happening. Maybe it was her fault.
But it didn't matter if it really was her fault or not. She'd still blame herself, and she'd keep blaming herself until the day came when Bucky was back home and safe in her arms again.
If that day came.
Of all the things in the world that Bucky hated most, the quiet was one of them. There were a few reasons for this, but chief among them was the fact that it was in pure, dead silence that his head became the loudest.
And here, in this underground cage that the FBI had thrown him into, all there was was the quiet. Nothing but fluorescent lights, glass walls that even his metal arm couldn't punch through (he'd tried), and his mind screaming at him incessantly.
The cell was behind several walls and more than one guarded gate, accessible by only those in the government with the highest clearances. The cell itself, Bucky was pretty sure, had been built for the Hulk originally, because it was enormous and far too large for just one man, enhanced or not. It was a glorified prison cell with the basic functions needed to preserve a human being, only without the uncomfortable cot that even men on death row were allowed. He was apparently expected to sleep on the floor. He didn't care. He didn't plan on sleeping at all.
The first thing that they'd done upon bringing him to this hellhole in the middle of nowhere was thoroughly search him and put him in plain gray prison-style clothes. They even took away the hair tie that had been holding his hair up, because they couldn't apparently trust him with a couple of inches of elastic. After that, they'd re-shackled him and dragged him to a cold lab room, where his blood was drawn and a few doctors examined his metal arm with the intent of figuring out how to take it off. They couldn't figure it out, thankfully. They weren't exactly Tony Stark-level smart.
Then, after they'd had their fill of poking and prodding at him, they'd brought him here, to this cage. Then they'd left him alone, for a few hours at least. They came back awhile later, a man and then a woman, both trying to get him to talk. They wanted to know how much he could remember, how long he'd been working for Nick Fury, when he had met his wife, how many of the Avengers knew about him and hadn't reported him. He didn't let a single word or even a sound leave his lips.
The noise in his head was far louder than their voices or threats could have ever been.
He could still hear Adelaide's terrified cry in his ear, see David's big brown eyes full of fear, and feel as much as see Summer's entire world come crashing down all around her as they'd taken him away. His single greatest fear since the day that he'd begun to care for her was that he would eventually in some form or another end up hurting her, and that day had finally come. Not only had he brought this pain on her, but his kids had also been there to witness it all. And he couldn't take any of it back or undo it.
He'd been a fool. To think that he could ever truly escape his past, start over and be able to have a stable life and home with the woman he loved and the kids they were raising together... it had been merely a fleeting dream. This had always been his fate, one way or another. If not the American government, then it would have been some other one that he'd crossed, or maybe HYDRA. One couldn't be the most prolific assassin in modern history and not have a list of enemies a mile or two long.
One couldn't be the most prolific assassin in modern history and have a wife and kids waiting at home. Maybe in the movies, but in real life... in real life, this was what had always been waiting for him.
He never should have let her kiss him. He never should have kissed her back. He never should have asked her out on a date, never should have fallen in love with her and become a father to her son. He never should have had the nerve to ask her to be his wife, never should have stood before God and their friends and family and let her pledge to love him and cherish him until death separated them. He never should have had the audacity to create a new life with her and put the burden of raising a wanted fugitive's baby on her shoulders.
But he had done all those things. Despite the little nagging doubts and fears and apprehensions, he'd fallen in love with her and watched her family slowly become his family. Now here he was, where some small part of him had always known that he'd end up, and he wondered how the hell he could have been so stupid.
He deserved this, the noise in his head told him. This was what happened to bad men. They always ran and tried to hide, but eventually their time would come to be held accountable and answer for their crimes. And oh, how many crimes there were. Each one was right there with him, if not in his memory then on his hands as a permanent bloodstain instead, keeping him company in that cell and reminding him of the truth that he'd been an idiot to ever think he could escape.
He just wasn't meant for the sun. He never had been, even back when he'd been a "hero". The shadows had staked their claim on him long ago, and they never liked to give up what had been theirs for so long. He'd always been the one to do the dirty work, whether for the Army or for Steve or for HYDRA, and men like that, men like him... they didn't get to have their day in the light like Steve.
They got this instead, sooner or later.
He also wasn't blind. He had no rights under the law, as far as his captors were concerned. They probably didn't recognize him as an American citizen, so he probably wouldn't even get a lawyer. He was legally dead ex-agent of the bloodiest arm of the KGB, killer of Presidents and scientists and anyone else who earned a spot on Soviet or HYDRA kill lists. What government would waste their time and money giving a man like that a fair trial? Even if they did, what did it matter? He was guilty and everyone knew it.
It was over. It was all over. And he would forever regret that his last words to Summer had been the first lie that he'd ever uttered to her - It's gonna be okay.
Idiot.
It was in the midst of these thoughts that one of the agents came back, the man, armed with what Bucky was guessing was breakfast. He couldn't be too sure, since he was underground and had no way of telling time, but if he had to guess, it was probably morning by then.
Food got delivered to the cell through a system similar to a bank drive thru, only much more high tech. The agent sent a single protein bar and bottle of water through the secure chute, then took a seat just outside of the cell as Bucky continued to sit in the middle of the floor and refuse to even look at the food.
The agent was younger, energetic, probably hotheaded too. Almost reminded Bucky of Steve when he was younger, only without the heart that made him the great man that he was.
"So," the man began, "the Director just had a press conference. Whole world knows now that we've got you. You're gonna be the top story on every news channel for awhile."
Bucky remained impassive, not even looking at the man. Why should he? They all knew what the Winter Soldier had done. Speaking was redundant.
"And this kind of surprised me, but they already released your wife's name, too."
Bucky's eyes snapped up. The agent almost smiled.
"Thought that would get your attention. It would have gotten leaked soon enough, anyway. Can't keep anything a secret anymore."
Bucky glowered at the man.
"Anyway, you should eat," he said, gesturing to the protein bar and water. "That's straight from the vending machine. Cost me two bucks." He paused and chuckled. "Two bucks. I crack myself up."
If Bucky had been able to puncture the cell, he might have chosen that moment to do it just so he could have punched the idiot in the face.
"But no, all kidding aside... look, believe it or not, we didn't bring you here to crucify you. We've all read your files. We all know you went through things that are pretty much... unimaginable. The thing is, though... justice still has to be served. Just because I feel bad for you, it doesn't mean we can let you go and let dozens of crimes go unanswered. You understand that."
He did. But he still didn't acknowledge the man one way or another.
"I'm sure you think you're making some kind of statement by not talking and not eating, but... you're really just delaying the inevitable," the man said, standing up. "I'll let you think about it for awhile. Enough time alone down here and everyone sings eventually."
Bucky kept his eyes fixed to the floor as the agent then left, the steel doors slamming shut behind him. Bucky was alone again, save for the security cameras surrounding and inside the cell and the ghosts haunting his head.
It was quiet again. He hated the quiet. Back home there was always some kind of background noise - movies, video games, air conditioning, Summer tinkering around in the kitchen, Adelaide babbling or squeaking happily, David methodically building a skyscraper out of tiny Legos. His mind could never get too loud there, because there was always something keeping him in the present, keeping him focused.
Here, there was none of that. Here there was only silence and hour after hour of nothing to do or think about besides the terrible deeds that had placed him in this cell and the family that he'd been ripped away from.
There was also time, and an abundance of it. Just the day before, he'd had a life and work and a schedule that was always full and left him with hardly enough downtime to sit around and get lost in the shadows of his mind the way that he used to.
But, as he continued to convince himself... this was what he deserved. This was what had always been coming. This was his fate, and he knew better than to hold out hope that this would end in anything other than his death. His crimes were simply too great, too terrible, and too numerous.
If he could have had the chance to do over those last words that he'd said to Summer, he wouldn't have lied to her and told her that everything was going to be okay. He would have taken her in his arms, Feds be damned, and begged her with everything he had within in him to forgive him. He didn't deserve her forgiveness, but if she had given it to him, it would have meant one less voice screeching in his head.
He sat there, on the floor in the center of the cell, ignoring the food and water sitting to his left, ignoring the cameras watching him, stuck in a thousand yard stare that he couldn't break.
His missed his wife. He missed his son. He missed his baby. He missed his best friend. He missed Natasha and Sam and Wanda and everyone that had accepted him despite what he had done, despite who he'd been. He missed living in that blissful fantasy that had shattered the moment the authorities surrounded him and his kids in his own living room.
On the outside, he'd never break for them. They'd never get a single word from his lips. But on the inside, he had been broken from the very second that they had taken him away.
