A/N: sorry for the wait with this chapter guys, I'm quite busy lately and I've been having to write stuff in small increments whilst half asleep lol, so... yeah, sorry about leaving you all hanging for so long :D not much else to say this week, other than I LOVE ALL OF YOU and I am SO grateful for your reviews and feedback every week, it seriously makes my day and makes the half-asleep writing incredibly worth it. Also my huge HUGE thanks to midnightwings96 who never fails to be the most helpful and fabulous and AWESOME person ever, enormous hugs to her and to all of you as well :D I'll see you guys soon (I hope!) :D
The first 24 hours following Summer's super-charged transfusion, the doctors said, would prove by far the most critical. Whether she improved, stayed the same, or continued to worsen would tell them if the transfusion had any effect or if it was too little, too late, and what sort of end result that they should prepare for.
The ICU had a policy of very strict and specific visiting hours, but not a single doctor or nurse on the hospital staff dared to tell the Winter Soldier that he couldn't stay by his wife's side as those 24 hours ticked by. The federal agents assigned to watch him stood outside the door and unwittingly kept up a vigil with him, and as Bucky stared at the numbers on the machines and watched the respirator breathe for Summer, the whole nation watched and waited for word on her fate. Only the inner circle knew about Steve's last-minute idea to save her, but the whole world knew that she was fighting for her life. And for once, everyone was in agreement that she didn't deserve it and that what had happened to her was a travesty.
Summer did always have a knack for uniting people, Bucky thought as he glanced at the news coverage of her shooting on his phone. Even the damn President of the United States put out a statement condemning the shooting and calling for peace and order in the wake of the constant chaos that the trial had showcased so far. Even now, unconscious and sick and just barely hanging on, she was a force for good in the world.
He wasn't like that. He seemed to destroy everything he touched, Summer included. But the thing was, even though he thoroughly blamed himself for what had happened to her and and he hated himself for it, he wasn't mentally and emotionally pulling away from her like he had been ever since he'd been "reset" and regained all of his memories. Instead, he was making promises to every deity that probably didn't exist to love her and cherish her and never ever make her cry ever again if she made it through this alive. He didn't know if he'd be around to do any of that, the trial making such things impossible to predict, but if by some miracle she got better and he wasn't thrown in some dark hole of a cell for the rest of his life, then he would spend the rest of his days making up for all the pain and misery that he had both accidentally and purposefully caused her.
He didn't just utter those promises to himself and God, either. He told her himself over and over again, hoping that she could hear him and that somehow hearing his voice and knowing that he was there would help her pull through. He also wasn't the only one who spoke to her and kept her company, either. In fact, most of the time, he wasn't there alone but accompanied by a revolving door of people who loved her almost as much as he did.
Steve was there the most, usually a quiet but reliable presence that somehow actually did manage to make Bucky feel a little better. Steve was never one to offer empty words or encourage false hope, and that Bucky appreciate him all the more. Natasha was like that too, and whenever she would come in to give Steve a break, usually with coffee or food or both in hand for Bucky, she would take Steve's spot in a small chair on the other side of Summer's bed. Then Bucky would watch her armor crack as she looked at Summer and then at the monitors, the fearsome and so often-stoic Black Widow nowhere in sight as Natasha faced the prospect of losing a friend who had become more important to her than she'd ever dreamed she would.
Wanda was the next most frequent visitor, and she came bearing a framed photo of Jewish prayers that she placed facing Summer's bed on a small table. It was the sort of gesture that would have made Summer cry had she been awake, and Bucky thanked her profusely on Summer's behalf. Then Wanda would ease his mind by reading Summer's and assuring him that she wasn't gone. Most of the time she was dreaming, just as the doctor said she would be in her sedated state. The dreams were all hazy and blessedly pleasant, and Bucky was grateful to know that her mind was still there and still intact and that she wasn't having any nightmares.
The children, of course, had it harder than almost anyone. David was an utter wreck, refusing for the most part to eat or drink anything, and Adelaide had to go home with Paul after she'd reached her limit of how much time in a hospital a child of her age could handle. The situation was difficult for everyone in more ways than could be counted, and those critical 24 passed by so slowly that it felt as if an entire week had crawled by.
By the time that the deadline arrived, it was late at night and Bucky had inadvertently fallen asleep slumped forward in his seat, his head resting on the bed next to Summer's hand. He hadn't meant to doze but he was beyond exhausted, and he was also alone in the room with her for the first time in hours.
But he was only asleep for about fifteen minutes before the sound of choking and gagging woke him up.
Head shooting up and his eyes flying wide open, Bucky looked around the room wildly before he realized that the distressed noise was coming from Summer. Her eyes were open and her monitors were beeping madly as she instinctively fought the tube in her throat and gagged on the foreign object that had been keeping her alive.
"Summer," he said in a panicked tone, jumping to his feet and standing over her so that she could see him. His hands hovered over her, afraid to touch her and yank out a tube or anything else she was hooked up to. "Summer, Summer, look at me. Look at me."
She did, her wide, watery eyes focusing on him. As soon as they did, he touched her cheek as carefully as possible and told her, "Calm down, okay? Don't fight it. Don't try to talk. Just look at me."
She simply stared at him with such fear and such confusion that it ripped his heart in two. That was when the door burst open and three nurses rushed inside, quickly followed by the doctor.
"I'm not going anywhere," he told her before letting go and getting out of the way so that the staff could do their work. "Okay? I'm gonna be right here."
Then he forced himself to step away, and he watched as the nurses and the doctor quickly looked her over and then began the process of extubation. It happened fairly quickly, and Bucky watched as the tube was finally removed and Summer coughed dryly in its wake. Bucky only tore his eyes away from her to check her oxygen monitor, which displayed a rather encouraging number of 99 after she had been breathing on her own for a few moments.
"Well, Mrs. Barnes," Dr. Brown said, "I'm sorry about all of this. This is not how I like to see a patient wake up, but you still had enough drugs in you to keep you knocked out for 12 more hours, so this is pretty irregular."
Bucky furrowed his brows, keeping a close eye on Summer and the doctor as he began to examine her.
"Your vitals are improving," he said, reading the monitors and then turning back to her. "Your color's good, too." When she tried to speak, he held up a hand and then told a nurse to grab a piece of paper and a pen so she didn't have to use her voice and hurt herself. Then he told her, "I'm gonna tell you exactly what happened to you, all right?" She nodded, and he took a deep breath before giving her the overview.
"The bullet you took was laced with poison. Not just any poison, but something this hospital and even the CDC wasn't prepared to deal with. Your systems started failing and failing fast." Her eyes widened, and he put a comforting hand on her shoulder as he went on. "We hit you with every drug known to man just about, but then your friend Steve had an idea that I was just desperate enough to try. He gave you his blood, straight from his arm, since he's immune to everything and there was a chance that it might save you."
Her eyes immediately filled with tears, and she turned her head to look at Bucky. He felt like he was about to cry at any minute as well, not knowing if she was recovering or not what any of this meant.
One of the nurses gave her the paper and pen, and the first thing that Summer wrote - shakily, looking almost like a child had written it - was "Did it work?"
"Well, we just drew some new labs about an hour ago that's gonna give us an idea of where we're at," the doctor replied. "But the fact that you woke up and you're breathing on your own right now is very encouraging."
"Is she gonna be okay?" Bucky asked, stepping closer to the bed after a nurse moved and vacated the spot.
"Like I said, I need to see the labs first," Dr. Brown told him. "But based on where she was yesterday at this time compared to now, just with her breathing alone - it's a damn miracle."
For the first time since Summer had been shot, Bucky felt a real and beautiful sense of hope finally take hold. He smiled at the doctor - smiled - and then looked down at Summer before gently taking her hand in his. She was still so pale and clearly still confused and shocked by what she had woken up to, like anyone would be, but she was alive and she was breathing and her heart rate was stable at 70 now instead of the worrying 45 that it had been a few hours ago.
She stared up at Bucky with fear and about a thousand other emotions in her eyes before she started scribbling with her free hand. This time she wrote one word, it was for Bucky. Kids?
"They're fine," he assured her. "Addie's with Sarah, David's here in the waiting room. He wouldn't leave. Paul's here too, and Steve, Nat, Wanda. Sam might be here too. Everyone's been coming and going constantly. They've all dropped everything to be here for you."
She closed her eyes and let a few tears fall from them, Bucky reaching under her eyes and wiping them away as a matter of habit. The doctor, still standing there on her other side and watching, smiled and told them he was stepping out to check on her labs. Bucky thanked him profusely again, and he simply gave Bucky a reassuring pat on the shoulder before leaving the room. The nurses stayed, fluttering about and keeping a close eye on her, hanging new IV bags and getting her to take a few sips of water to help moisten her poor, abused throat. All the while, Bucky stood by her side, a silent but comforting presence that kept her calm as the nurses went about their routine.
When one of them began to change the dressing on her gunshot wound, she paused and stared at it before getting one of the other nurses to come and look. That caught Bucky's attention immediately, and as the second nurse came and stared at with equally wide eyes, he asked, "What? Is something wrong?"
The first nurse looked up at him and shook her head, smiling. "No, not at all. You see, yesterday this wound was awful. It was showing signs of infection and her incision from the surgery was just as bad as you would expect post-op, but now both sites look half healed already. Come look."
He shared a look with Summer before leaning far enough over the bed to see. Once he did, he suddenly understood why the nurses seemed so flabbergasted.
He knew right then that it had worked. By some miracle and some kind of grace that he didn't deserve, it had worked, and Steve's blood had done what medicine couldn't.
He turned back to Summer and smiled, giving her hand a squeeze. She looked up at him hopefully, still terrified and unable to speak just yet, but she squeezed his hand back and closed her eyes when he kissed her forehead.
Then the doctor returned, opening the door with her chart in hand and a very encouraging smile on his face. "Good news," he said, shaking his head as if he hardly believed it himself. "Kidney function's improving and every single lab we drew is improved from the last set we took just twelve hours ago. It's impossible, but it's right here," he held up the chart, "in black and white."
"She's gonna be okay?" Bucky asked, ready to cry and probably fall to his knees if the answer was yes.
"Just to be sure," Dr. Brown told him, "you might want to see if you can get your friend to give her about a half of a pint more, since her blood's still a little down, but yeah, I'm confident that she's gonna recover." He then looked at Summer and told her, "Looks like Captain America saved your life."
That was when Summer lost all sense of self control and let her face crumple as she cried with sheer, blessed relief. Bucky almost did the same, not caring who saw or what they thought as he dragged his right hand over his face and then couldn't help but sink down into the chair next to her bed, his legs suddenly not wanting to work.
He could breathe again. She could breathe again. And he owed it all to Steve.
"I've gotta tell him," Bucky said, looking at Summer as she tried to calm down. He then turned to the doctor and said, "And Paul. Can you -"
Dr. Brown held up his hand and nodded. "I'll let everyone know. You stay right where you are."
"Thank you," Bucky told him sincerely, and then the doctor turned to leave and inform everyone in the waiting room of the good news.
Not long after that, the nurses left the room to go and get a few supplies and also give the couple a moment of privacy now that Summer was stable. The moment that they left, Bucky turned to Summer and inched closer to her, her tired but lively blue eyes meeting his as he reached up and gently touched her cheek. She closed her eyes at his touch and he could tell that she was trying not to cry and that it was a losing battle.
He had so much to say to her, and he was never going to waste a moment with her again.
"I'm sorry," he all but whispered to her, rubbing his thumb over her cheekbone. He looked her in the eye and she stared at him with her big teary eyes as he went on, "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I've been... the way that I've treated you and pushed you away..."
She shook her head and tried to open her mouth to tell him to stop, but he hushed her before she could strain her voice. "Don't, don't. Please, I have to say this." Her expression then became pained, but she didn't try to stop him again. "I love you... so much... and I've been a fucking idiot, but I swear I'm done. I'm done pushing you away and making you miserable. I don't know what's gonna happen to me or how much longer I've got with you, but I'm not gonna waste another minute, I promise. I promise, Summer."
She nodded, clutching his other hand, the metal one, tighter as she sniffed back another wave of tears. He kissed her forehead, then her temple and her cheek and finally her lips, flesh hand cradling her face all the while. Then he leaned his forehead against hers, and after swallowing and bracing herself for what she was sure to be impending pain, she told him in a voice that was so hoarse and rough that it didn't sound like her, "I love you."
He opened his eyes and pulled back a few inches, gazing at her with such love and devotion that it made her feel warm from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. "I love you too," he replied softly, kissing her again. "I love you so much."
She was going to be okay. And in that moment, whatever fate had in store for him down the road and whatever the jury would eventually decide, he knew that he would be okay too, because she was alive and she would be there when he was gone. And that, more than anything, was what he wanted if life did indeed take that turn.
When Dr. Brown told every occupant of the waiting room the good news, what followed was a rush of relieved sighs and pleasantly shocked smiles as the unexpected news sunk in. David, like his father, started crying the minute that he heard that his mama was going to be okay. Steve nearly fainted from shock to hear that his last minute idea had actually worked and that his blood had saved Summer's life, and Natasha had been quick to pull him into a hug that she needed as much as he did. The first thing he did after was tell Sam to call Paul and tell him the news, since it was after midnight and he'd had no choice but to take Adelaide home and help Sarah manage the kids, and Sam immediately got on it.
"Now normally," Dr. Brown told Steve once everyone had settled down a bit, "we don't let more than two visitors into the ICU at once. But considering the circumstances, I'll let you go ahead and see her and take her son in as well. Only for a little while though, 'cause she's still got a lot of recovering to do. But I won't tell if you don't."
"Thank you, Doctor," Steve told him, shaking his hand. "Truly. You've been amazing. I don't know how to thank you for all you've done."
The doctor pretended to think for a moment before replying, "Autograph for my daughter would be nice. She's a big fan."
Steve laughed and replied, "For all you've done, I think it's worth at least a face to face meeting and all the pictures and autographs she can handle."
"Deal," the doctor chuckled before turning and gesturing towards the door. "Follow me."
Steve nodded and then held out his hand for David to take. David immediately grabbed his hand, wiping his damp cheeks with his other and then following the doctor alongside Steve.
The walk there felt shorter than it had before, and Steve felt a bit nervous once they were nearly to Summer's room. He wasn't sure what to say to her or what to do, but once they had arrived and the doctor opened the door for them and then discreetly ushered them in and walked away, all of those slightly anxious thoughts disappeared.
There was Summer, her eyes open and breathing on her own, awake and holding Bucky's hand as his other ran soothingly through her hair. She was smiling at him and he was staring at her as if she held his very life in her hands, and Steve filed that image away in his near-perfect memory for later, in case he wanted to sketch it and surprise them with it sometime.
The sound of the door closing behind them made both Summer and Bucky look up, and that was when David let go of Steve's hand and ran towards his parents. They both smiled and Bucky caught him, telling him quietly to be calm and easy and be careful because she was still weak, and David nodded quickly and looked at his mama with his big brown eyes and a hopeful smile on his face. She smiled back and reached out to him, her voice coming back a bit stronger than it had before as she croaked out a hey sweetie and she gave him a hug as best as she could from her current position. He put his arm around her and laid his head down on her shoulder, being very careful of where he touched her, and she started crying again as she held him close and kissed the side of his head.
Steve watched from near the door, his hands in his pockets and his own emotions threatening to get the best of him as he watched the sweet moment unfold. But then Bucky stood up from his seat and started walking his way, and Steve looked at him just in time to catch the grateful and teary expression on his best friend's face as he marched up to him and then pulled him into the most bone-crushing and emotional hug that Steve had ever experienced in his entire life.
It came as a shock at first, mainly because Bucky - this Bucky, the one that had survived HYDRA and come out on the other side as a sometimes unpredictable mixture of the man that Steve had grown up with and someone else entirely - was not generally one for hugs. With Summer and the kids, yes, but with Steve, not so much. Their friendship had come a long way, but these open displays of affection didn't come often. And this wasn't just any hug. It was one Steve would never forget.
Summer watched from her bed, still holding David close as Bucky held on to Steve as tightly as he could and Steve embraced him back as best he could. It was no short hug, and in fact it felt like it lasted forever in the best of ways. In truth, Steve had been waiting for a moment like this since the minute that he got Bucky back, and while he had never imagined that it would happen like this and after such horrific events, he still found great relief that it was happening at all.
"Thank you, Steve," Bucky said, still holding him tight and clenching his eyes shut. Those words didn't feel like nearly enough to him, but to Steve, they were everything he needed and more.
Steve simply nodded and patted him on the back, glancing at Summer over Bucky's shoulder. She smiled at him, full of gratitude and emotion that he almost found overwhelming.
When Bucky finally let him go, Steve took a deep breath and smiled as Bucky pulled away. Steve then sniffed - not because he was crying or anything, although he was and he certainly couldn't fool Bucky there - and then Bucky moved to his side to clear the way for Steve to see Summer.
This was where Steve knew he was gonna get choked up all over again. He headed her way, on the other side of the bed that Bucky didn't normally occupy, and he asked her quietly, "How're you feeling?"
"Like crap," she managed to reply with a smile, though she instantly winced at the pain of speaking.
"You don't have to talk," Steve assured her. "I know it must hurt."
She nodded, then grabbed the pen and notepad lying next to her in the bed. After furiously scribbling a bit, she held up the notepad for him to read.
Thank you, it said. He smiled warmly at her and replied, "You're welcome. I'd do it again in a heartbeat."
Then she scribbled something else on the paper, taking a bit longer this time. This time, right under her first two words, the paper read, I love you and I owe you my life.
Bucky chuckled and Steve smiled even more widely, shaking his head. "You don't owe me a thing, Summer. Trust me. Just as long as you get better and you're healthy and you get back home... that's enough for me."
She sighed, wiping away a few tears that she just couldn't contain, and then she held out her free arm, wordlessly asking him for a hug. He obliged to the best of his ability, leaning over the bed and carefully patting her shoulder and letting her weakly hug him back. Then David, still cradled under her other arm, threw an arm around Steve too, and he was suddenly enveloped in a group hug.
Bucky smiled as he stood there watching, all of his worries and fears eased for the time being. Steve felt just as relieved, and deep down, a part of him felt something that he hadn't felt in a long, long time - like just maybe he had a family again, and people that he belonged to and loved as much as they loved him. He had a brother, the same one he'd had since childhood, and now there was Summer too. She was like the sister he'd never known that he wanted but now couldn't imagine life without, and David was the little nephew who Steve would never cease to be obnoxiously and unstoppably proud of. Some bonds transcended blood, and these, he knew, certainly did.
"Just do me a favor," Steve said after the group hug came to a reluctant end. "Just because you've got some super soldier serum in you now, don't start getting any ideas about becoming the next new Avenger."
Summer replied by widening her eyes and shaking her head furiously, making both Steve and Bucky laugh. She then scribbled rather eloquently on the pad of paper frick that, and both men definitely knew that their Summer was back.
The following morning, everyone got their chance to see Summer and see for themselves how far she had come in such a short amount of time. First came Paul with little Adelaide on his hip, and that was perhaps the most joyous reunion of all. The little girl had missed her mama greatly, and Paul hadn't eaten a single full meal since Summer had been shot. And he, as a doctor himself, was even more blown away by her progress than the others.
Natasha spent a lot of time there as well, telling Summer quietly in the middle of a hug that she'd scared her to death and how happy she was to see her awake and breathing again. Summer had grown to know the woman quite well over the years, but she'd never seen Natasha so close to tears as she was when she had pulled away from that hug.
Then there was Wanda, who Summer hugged and thanked for all of her help with the kids while she had been out as well as the framed prayers that she knew Wanda was responsible for. Sam came too, and Tony and Pepper and Vision, not to mention Esteban, Nicolo, and Matt and Foggy, all of them a constant stream of people who kept the ICU nurses highly annoyed and Summer smiling until her cheeks hurt. Her body hurt like hell and she was on even more pain meds than she had been when her entire leg had been crushed, but she was recovering at an inhumanly fast rate and she was surrounded by the best and most devoted friends and family that she could ask for.
She posted a note to her blog thanking her followers as well as the huge amount of people in the general public who had wished her well, but she had to stay mum on the details of her situation. Having Steve's blood in her and being alive because of it was something that needed to remain a closely guarded secret for the rest of her life. Anything else would make her a target and possibly make Steve's blood a highly desired asset for desperate and dangerous people all over the world, even more than it already was and had been since he'd received the serum.
She spent a week in the hospital, most of that time spent letting the doctor run test after test to track her recovery and determine the full effect of Steve's transfusion. What should have taken her at least a month or two to fully recover from only took seven days, and yet while her systems healed beautifully and her gunshot wound was amazingly well-healed already, she wasn't displaying any super-strength or anything particularly obvious on that front. The doctor told her in the end that she could expect to have increased immunity against essentially everything, heal faster than should be possible, and depending on if her cells regenerated at the same rate at Steve's, she might even be blessed with an extended lifespan. Only time would tell, but the bottom line was that she was now disgustingly healthy and probably would be for the rest of her life.
Some gifts just couldn't be repaid, and this was one of them. Still, Steve seemed perfectly pleased and content just by seeing Summer up and walking and talking and eating again after having been so close to death.
But it wasn't all sunshine and roses during that week of recovery. Summer was feeling physically better and better with each day, but she had a hard time sleeping at night. She was irrationally afraid to fall asleep, her memories of crashing suddenly and falling unconscious only to wake up a little over a day later choking on a tube lodged in her throat proving rather traumatic. She'd dream of it all and of being shot, of being so close to losing her life and everyone she loved, and as a result, she only managed a few hours of sleep per night. She kept it all to herself though, not wanting to be a burden on Bucky or anyone else especially when they were all so happy to see her doing so well. She knew she'd get over it eventually, so she simply tried not to think much about it or let the lack of sleep get to her.
Soon enough, far sooner than should have been possible, the doctor cleared Summer to go home. She was remarkably strong and mostly back to normal, almost entirely healed and her leftover pain from her ordeal manageable with low-dose narcotic pain medicine, so there was no longer any reason to keep her in the hospital. Only seven days after being shot with a bullet poisoned to kill the Winter Soldier, Summer got up from her hospital bed and walked hand in hand with Bucky, both of their kids in tow, to the car that was waiting to discreetly pick them up behind the building and take them back to the tower. The federal agents that shadowed Bucky's every move were there, of course, following them in plainclothes and unmarked vehicles as they made the trek back home that Bucky had once feared they'd never get to make.
Once they got home, it was back to life as usual, or at least it was supposed to be. Bucky's ankle monitoring device was placed back on and recalibrated to keep him within the tower at all times, and the women of the tower threw a little party for Summer as a celebration for getting better and coming home. The kids were happy, both David and Adelaide rarely leaving Summer's side, and Bucky felt like he could finally breathe again.
Summer was happy. She was. She was happy to be alive and grateful for the miracle that had made her survival possible, and she was beyond relieved to be at home with her little family once again. But underneath her smiles and happy laughs, she was trying to adjust to the reality of what had happened and what it meant in the long run, not to mention wrap her mind around being shot by a foreign assassin and figuring out how to ever sleep peacefully again after everything she'd experienced.
She was also trying to do all of that while breathing a word to nobody, since they'd all been though enough on her account and she didn't want to be anymore of a bother than she already had been. She knew that her line of thinking was ridiculous - to an extent - but it was a habit so deeply ingrained within her that it was all she knew to do.
And Bucky, he made her feel both incredibly loved and constantly heartbroken at the same time. He made good on his word to stop putting distance between them, and in fact he was so attentive to her every want and need that it made her heart ache because she knew that even though they'd just overcome a huge hurdle, the trial was still very much a reality and their family could still be torn apart for good.
For the first few nights back at home, Summer would lay awake in bed in Bucky's arms, eyes closed but not asleep, unable to turn off her brain and get some decent rest. For once she was the one stuck being awake all night and Bucky was the one snoozing peacefully until morning arrived.
She wondered what would happen to them. She wondered what would have happened to Bucky and David and Addie had she not made it and he'd had to plan her funeral. She wondered if she was really going to live an extra 20-30 years now because of Steve's blood, and if she would be spending those years alone because Bucky would be executed or imprisoned for life.
She wondered if dozing off only to wake up feeling like she was choking again when she really wasn't was just going to be a part of life now, like the dreams she'd had for years following what Mark had done to her. She'd relived that horrible night a thousand times, and maybe now she was going to relive nearly dying just as many times.
She worried for David, who'd experienced his first anxiety attacks while she had been out and might now have the same issues with anxiety that she'd had since she had been a little girl, too. Her parents' deaths had triggered it and now her almost-death had caused the same thing in her poor little boy. She also worried for Adelaide, who was always bouncing around from one babysitter to another and lacked any real semblance of stability in her young life. She and Bucky were always coming and going, sometimes being the ones to care for her and sometimes not, and that was never what Summer had wanted for her. But what else could she do?
But most of all, she worried for Bucky. She worried for him constantly, and she didn't know how to do anything else. She loved him so, so much, and following everything that had happened to her, losing him seemed all the more unconscionable. She could live without him, of course, but it would be the hardest thing that she could ever do to let him go and lose him to someone else's perverted sense of justice.
She wished that they could run away, but she knew that they couldn't. So instead she kept moving, kept going, kept trying to sleep even when it was impossible, and did everything she could to act like everything was fine while in reality, very little was okay.
Three nights after Summer's homecoming, she was in hers and Bucky's room with the kids, working on her blog and some other work related things, while Bucky was in the kitchen with Natasha working on a top secret mission... chopping a head of cabbage. Or attempting to chop it up, anyway.
Eyeing Bucky as he tried to evenly chop the vegetable, Natasha leaned one hand on the kitchen counter and asked, "Aren't you supposed to be good with knives? Isn't that kind of your thing?"
"I'm good with stabbing people with knives," he muttered, sighing when the blade slipped off halfway through a cut and ended up smacking down on the cutting board uselessly. "This knife sucks."
"I think it's more of an operator error, honestly," Natasha noted, grinning when Bucky glared at her. She then rolled her eyes and held out her hand. "Give it to me."
"But I want to do this," Bucky protested. "That's the whole point of what I'm trying to do."
"I know," Natasha sighed. "I know that you're trying to make up for your last date night going to hell and I'm gonna help you do that, but if this cabbage doesn't get chopped the borscht isn't going to get done on time and you're going to be surprising her with Domino's pizza instead of homemade Russian comfort food. So hand it over."
Bucky pursed his lips and begrudgingly relinquished the knife to Natasha, who took his place in front of the cutting board and then proceeded to make quick work of chopping up the cabbage. Bucky crossed his arms and asked, "When did you have time to learn how to cook?"
Natasha gave him the side-eye again and said, "Believe it or not, some of us like to eat decent food from time to time instead of living off boxed food and takeout. And that usually means cooking. Besides, you grew up during the Depression. Didn't you learn how to cook at least a few things for yourself?"
"A few things," Bucky shrugged. "But nothing worth mentioning. We boiled everything back then. And Steve was more of the cook between the two of us."
"So he was the girl in the relationship?" Natasha teased.
Bucky rolled his eyes. "Yep. I'd come home from a long day at work and Steve would be slaving away in the kitchen."
"That's extra adorable if he wore an old frilly apron too," she remarked, tossing the now-finished cabbage into a pot.
"Even if he did, I wouldn't say. Guy's got a mean left hook these days." He then paused and said, "By the way, that was an uncharacteristically sexist thing for you to say, about Steve being the girl 'cause he could cook."
Natasha shrugged. "You grew up in an astonishingly sexist time. I'm only imagining what the opinions must have been when it came to you two."
"Nothing much," Bucky shrugged. "Thing back then was that everyone was just trying to survive and figure out where their next meal was coming from. Even though people are more... tolerant or whatever now, they also have a lot more time on their hands to judge other people than they did back then. Not that there weren't exceptions, but... yeah." Then he paused and added, "Besides, Steve would go all rabid chihuahua if anyone ever tried to call him a girl. Not because they called him a girl but because they called him that like it was a bad thing."
Natasha chuckled as she began gathering other ingredients and spices, adjusting the temperature on the oven. "Rabid chihuahua."
"It's true," Bucky grinned. "90 pounds of asthma and stupidity barking like he thought he was a Rottweiler."
"Sometimes it's hard for me to imagine him like that," she admitted, "but really, based on all the stories and everything I've ever heard about him back then, he's the exact same man still today."
Bucky nodded. "Mostly. Still stupid, too. Just without the asthma."
Stirring the pot, Natasha smirked and said, "Good thing you weren't there when he jumped out of a moving plane without a parachute."
The wistful, pleasant half-smile that had been on Bucky's face suddenly dropped without warning. "He did what?"
"Like you said," she replied wryly over her shoulder, "still stupid."
He rolled his eyes. Fucking Steve.
Once the borscht was cooking and all that was left to do was wait for it to be finished, Natasha tasked Bucky with cleaning up the kitchen and then told him with a serious look in her eyes, "Be patient with Summer tonight."
"Patient?" he repeated, slightly confused.
Natasha paused. "I don't know if you've noticed, but she's not sleeping. It's obvious. She's holding a lot in."
Bucky furrowed his brows and let his eyes fall as he thought back to the last couple of nights. She had been sleeping fine... hadn't she? He usually fell asleep first these days, sleep coming a lot more easily now that he knew that she was going to live for quite a few decades to come, but she was always fast asleep whenever he woke up. He was so used to him being the one with the horrible sleep issues that he hadn't even really thought to watch for possible signs of her own issues with it.
"She went through a lot," Natasha added. "It's a lot to process and work through, and she didn't have any time to do that. She went from being on death's door to being the healthiest she's ever been in her life in one week."
"I know," Bucky said quietly.
She gave his right arm a friendly, reassuring pat. "She's gonna be fine. Just... try to make her feel as safe as you can. I think she's scared, and I don't blame her. She's not like us. She's not used to people shooting at her."
Natasha would know, having been shot twice by Bucky in the past when he wasn't himself. "Okay," Bucky nodded. "Thanks for all your help."
"Any time," Natasha smiled. "I hope she likes it."
"Me too," Bucky chuckled. "I've never eaten this stuff either."
Natasha sighed sadly and shook her head. "All that time in Russia and they never even gave you a bowl of borscht every now and then."
"Nope," he shrugged. "Hopefully it's better than it smells."
She narrowed her eyes at him and shot back, "You have any complaints, feel free to put them in my suggestion box."
"You don't have a suggestion box," Bucky pointed out.
She flashed him a smile before walking away. "Exactly."
Bucky rolled his eyes after she left, leaving him alone with a messy kitchen to clean and a table to set for two. Steve would be by soon to grab the kids, and then it would be time for his and Summer's first night alone together ever since their last ill-fated home date. He was determined for this one to go much differently and be a success, and he would accept no other end to this very important mission. Summer deserved a good night like this, and he was well aware that they as a couple needed it badly.
And so, when the time came and the kitchen was clean and the hearty soup was ready, Steve came by and swooped up the kids for a night of movies and other safe and secure fun outside of the tower. Bucky got the table together with all of the necessities - water, wine, and bread rolls that Wanda had been thoughtful enough to make earlier that day to go specifically with the meal, God bless her - and then he went the extra mile and lit two candles on the table. It might have been cheesy, just a little bit, but he didn't care. He just wanted it all to be perfect and something worthy of a wife like the one that he was lucky enough to have.
Then he texted her to tell her that dinner was ready and that she should take a break from working and come eat. She replied that she'd be there in five minutes, and true to her word, he heard their door open and her quiet footsteps approach in no more than six minutes. He stood by the table anxiously, immediately smiling when she turned the corner and came into view.
She was dressed in dark blue sweatpants and an oversized purple sweater, two of her most comfortable articles of clothing, and her long dark hair was in a haphazard and mostly undone side braid over her right shoulder. She stopped short the moment that she saw the table, the candles, the wine, and the look on Bucky's face as he stood there smiling and looking more nervous than she'd seen him in ages.
She smiled and half-stuttered, "Uh..."
"Surprise," he said quietly with a shrug, echoing the same word she'd used when she'd tried her hand at creating their own date all those weeks ago. Her eyes flitted from his back to the table, then back to him and how he was dressed, which was decently nice and certainly better than she was, and when she started to turn around to undoubtedly go change into something better, he held out his hand and said, "Don't, please. It's okay. You're perfect the way you are. This isn't supposed to be fancy or anything. It's just supposed to be..."
"... A date?" she smiled.
He nodded. "And an apology for how our last one ended."
She let out a deep breath and started walking towards him, replying, "You know you didn't have to do all of this."
"Well, I didn't," he admitted with a small laugh, scratching at the back of his neck and turning towards the table. "I tried to do some of the work, but Natasha did most of the cooking. The bread's all Wanda, some kind of Sokovian... stuff. The candles I stole from your box of Hanukkah stuff, which I really hope isn't sacrilegious or something..."
"It's not," she assured him with a giggle. "It's okay. I'm guessing the kids aren't here."
"They're with Steve. He took them to a movie and we've got the place to ourselves," Bucky confirmed, watching her eyes continue to take in everything and trying to gauge her reaction as best he could. Summer continued to smile as she tilted her head at the deep red soup and then looked up to ask him a question.
"What is that?"
"Borscht," he replied. "I know you like trying new things and apparently it's Nat's specialty, so... we're taking a tour of Russia. I can always order something in if you don't like it, but -"
"I love it already," she assured him, closing the short distance between them and laying a soft, sweet kiss on his lips. She was smiling when she pulled away. "You keep getting more and more perfect and I have no idea how you even do it."
"Trust me, I'm not," he assured her, smiling back a bit sadly. "I just... wanted to make up for last time and... make you smile."
The smile stuck on her face grew until her cheeks nearly hurt, and she replied, "Well, mission accomplished."
He took a breath and then stole one more quick kiss before pulling her chair out for her. She took her seat and then he took his, and from there, the date officially got underway. Just like the last time, it came almost effortlessly easily, and they slipped into comfortable conversation like it was second nature, which by then it certainly was, even after all that they had been through.
Summer loved the food, finding it strange at first but each new bite growing on her until she was all but gobbling it up, and the several glasses of wine that they shared made her feel a bit looser and helped her laughter come a bit more freely. They talked about everything from her work to her surprisingly highly devoted fans to the kids and how nice it was to see them slowly getting back to normal, but Bucky was careful to keep the conversation light and pleasant for both of their sakes. He was terrified of ruining the night yet again, and now that he was aware of her sleeping problems, he had to try to stifle his worries and push them aside, and that was no easy feat.
He just wanted to make everything better, if only for a night. And once the dinner was over and Summer was full and content, he knew that he had so far fulfilled that wish. But the night was still young, and he still had another plan up his sleeve.
His next surprise came at the end of a rather lengthy elevator ride up to the very top of the tower, where he led Summer out on the roof and shielded her eyes with his hands until they reached the little spot that he'd prepared for them under the stars. When he dropped his hands, her eyes opened and her jaw dropped at the sight of the blankets piled into a makeshift bed big enough for them both, and she turned around and gaped at him with her big blue eyes the size of saucers.
"Oh my gosh!" she smiled just like he'd hoped she would. "Okay, seriously, you're just getting A-pluses all around tonight."
He smiled, eyes crinkling with the gesture as he took her hand and led her to the blankets. "Well, I know this is cheesy as hell, but..."
"No, no, I love it," she told him sincerely, letting him gently guide her to sit first. "I mean, it's kinda hard to see the stars out here, but... it's still awesome. Stargazing on top of a skyscraper. Pretty impressive stuff."
He shot her an amused look and eased down next to her, looking up at the dark, clear night sky and replying, "Well, apparently my good behavior over the last couple weeks earned me roof privileges. Now I'm allowed to come up here and get fresh air when I need it."
"Good," Summer replied, slightly surprised but happy to hear that. "So now we can come up here and... stargaze?"
He replied with a smile, slipping his right arm around her and pulling her closer before they both looked back up at the sky, falling silent for a little while as they stared at a few of the brighter, more visible stars.
"I can remember being a kid," he said after a few moments, "and doing this with Steve, a lot closer to the ground. We could see a lot more back then, without all the pollution."
"Yeah? Would you wish on the stars?" she asked, smiling and leaning her head down on his shoulder.
"Sometimes," he replied. "Mostly we'd just talk about the future. What what might happen to us, where we might end up someday."
"... What was the consensus?" Summer asked, suddenly full of curiosity.
He smiled wistfully before gently laying them both down on the blankets, keeping her in his arms as he did and keeping his eyes locked on the brightest star in the city sky. "Well, Steve, he wanted to be an artist. Make a decent living off that one way or another, get a wife and some kids. Have a family and be there for them like his dad was never there for him. Name his first little girl after his mom. Just... be happy. Have a happy, normal life."
Summer swallowed, painfully aware that this was the first time that Bucky had opened up to her about his newly regained memories. She had wanted this for so long, before she'd been shot and everything had gone to hell, and now that it had finally come, she could hardly believe it. "What about you?"
"... I don't know," he chuckled. "I mean, I know what I said, but... I don't think I ever really knew what I wanted. Steve, you know, he always had it all figured out. And I tried to myself, but nothing I did ever worked. I wanted to get married, wanted kids, but me and Vivian could never stay together. I was too broke for college and everybody thought I was stupid, I guess 'cause of the way I acted..."
"Wait," Summer interrupted suddenly, instantly aghast and offended on his behalf. "You? Stupid? You're like the smartest person I know besides Tony."
"Yeah, well, nobody else thought so," he chuckled. "I guess that's why enlisting was such an easy decision, and not just because I knew I'd get drafted anyway. I knew I could prove myself, serve my country and really be useful. Thought I'd come home once it was over and settle down and get hitched and start a family, but..."
"Yeah," she sighed quietly. They were both quiet for a few minutes, and after a bit of mental debate, Summer told him, "You don't have to tell me everything. I want you to know that. I want to know and want you to trust me enough to tell me it all, but... if you can't, I understand. And I'm sorry for letting it become such a big issue between us. I shouldn't have."
"No," he shook his head, shifting and turning his gaze from the sky to her. "I shouldn't have kept it all from you. Wasn't fair to you. I just didn't want you to know how bad it all was. I still don't."
"Then don't tell me," she told him, genuinely meaning it. "Really. I mean it. If you're not ready or if it's just too hard, I get it."
Bucky merely shook his head again and replied, "I'm gonna tell you everything. I will. Just... not tonight. I don't want tonight to be about all of that."
"Okay," she replied with a smile, snuggling a little closer to him as he continued to gaze down upon her in the soft light of night. He gently cupped her cheek with his flesh hand, brushing aside a few stray hairs near her eyes and looking at her in a way that made her nearly shiver, and not from the slight chill outside. Something about that night and the atmosphere between them felt so blessedly intimate and special that it made her want to almost cry with joy, especially when he leaned in close and kissed her in a way that he hadn't in so very, very long.
He kissed her slowly, carefully, and lovingly, just like he used to when everything had been okay. It was no peck or friendly, routine sort of kiss, but rather the kind of touch that came from a man when he loved a woman more than life itself and would do anything to make her happy. Kissing him like that made her chest ache and countless memories flood through her head, her body and her mind remembering how close they used to be and how this, his arms, used to be the safest place in the world to be.
The kiss lingered and became many more, each kiss lazy and sweet and more than enough to make her limbs tangle with his and her body start craving more. He felt just the same, and when she slung her leg over his hip and felt for herself how excited he had become, that was the thing that made her break the kiss and pull away with a smile.
"Sorry," she giggled faintly, not wanting to draw away from him but feeling like she needed to before they went too far.
"Don't be," he murmured, tugging her back to him. "Come here."
She made a faint noise of surprise as he kissed her again, his tongue slipping past her lips to slide with hers just how he knew she liked, and she melted against him like she always did. His right hand slid from her hair to her side and then her waist, the warm flesh covering the little strip of skin exposed thanks to her sweater riding up slightly. His thumb brushed her skin there affectionately before his hand next went to her thigh, gripping it and pulling her leg tighter against him as he ground against her and caught her lower lip between his teeth. Those two actions combined made Summer gasp softly, and after he released her lip and drew back an inch or two so he could look at her, she stared back at him with a mixture of desire and apprehension.
God, she wanted him. She needed him badly, needed this physical aspect of their relationship back, but the thought of trying again and failing was too much to bear.
"We should stop," she said quietly, forcing herself to take a deep, calming breath, which was not easy.
"I don't want to," he replied without hesitation. "Please," he whispered, kissing her softly and making her eyes flutter shut and her fingers return to his hair. "I don't care what happens. I almost lost you, I almost..." He trailed off, clenching his jaw as the pain of what they'd been through flashed through his eyes, clear as the night sky. He saw the very same pain in her eyes. "I need you, Summer."
She couldn't deny him. It would kill her if he couldn't ultimately do it and they had to deal with yet another awkward failure, but she wouldn't dare deny him the chance at success. "Here?" she squeaked, smiling and blushing as she gestured to the roof that they were lying on.
"Nobody's here, nobody's gonna see us," he replied, hand sliding up her clothed thigh up to her hip and underneath her sweater, trailing his palm up her bare back. "I just..." he looked down at her lips and then back up to her eyes, myriads of emotions playing out on his face and in his blue eyes. "I wanna be close to you again. I wanna make you feel good, make you happy..."
"You do," she told him quietly, every word that he spoke to her making her heart flip in her chest.
He shook his head. "I haven't been. Not for a long time now. But I'm done with that. I'm done, I promise," he breathed before kissing her again, all hunger and desperation and love, and that was almost her final undoing. Almost.
"But... but if you... can't," she said softly, breathlessly as he momentarily tore his lips away from hers, her eyes pleading with his. "I don't want you to have to go through that again."
Bucky was many things to many people, but at his core he was still and always would be a man first and foremost. And the memories that her words brought back brought an unpleasant prickle of embarrassment up from deep within, as they would have to any man who had suffered from the same problem at any point in his life. But he was sick of letting that issue hold him back, but most of all, he was sick of fear and sick of letting it influence his actions.
"I'm not afraid of that," he said, the sincerity in his tone and the seriousness in his eyes leaving no room for doubt. "I'm done being afraid. Please," he begged her, kissing her again and pulling her closer so that she could feel how very ready he was for her already. "I need this, I need you. I know you need it too."
He lowered his lips to her neck then, kissing her softly and perfectly and all she could do was moan softly in response and cling to him tighter. She tilted her head back to let him kiss her more easily, and as he made his way down to the base of her throat, he pulled the cover over them up a bit higher and then shifted them, easing her on her back and hovering above her as he lifted his head and looked her in the eye. She drew in a deep breath, and a way of giving her consent, she reached down between them to the hem of her sweater and then pulled it over her head. She dropped it somewhere off to the side, watching his eyes drop down to her bare breasts and his tongue dart out to moisten his lips. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him back down, passionately kissing him and curling both of her legs over his hips and grinding up against him, making him groan with sheer, unmistakable need.
Despite the problems that they'd faced, this was still the most natural, sweetest thing in the world. They kissed and touched and made each other tremble with growing desire, Bucky's shirt coming off next before his hands almost clumsily got rid of her pants and the lace panties beneath them. Then his flesh fingers were there between her parted legs and his mouth on her breast, making her moan and nearly fall apart on the spot. She was so wound up and it had been so long since he had made her feel this way that she felt like she was on the edge immediately, gasping and rocking her hips in sync with his fingers. All the while his mouth wreaked havoc on her breasts, switching from one to the other and making her feel so good that she thought she could scream.
But right when she was there, seconds from falling apart under his fingers, he pulled his hand away and lifted his head up as well, looking her in the eye as he began slowly slinking down her body. He took the blanket over them with him, the cool night air hitting her completely exposed skin the farther down he went. He dropped his head again and kissed down her belly, until he reached a part of her skin that made him stop and stare and remember just why she was so lucky to be alive.
The bullet wound was no longer fresh and ugly or even painful, for the most part, and thanks to the healing properties of Steve's blood, it was scarred over and fading already. Taking a breath, Bucky reached two flesh fingers to trace the scar, staring at the wound that had come terrifyingly close to taking Summer's life and leaving his children motherless. Soft fingertips running through his hair made Bucky peek up, and when he met Summer's eyes, she gave him a small and tight but comfortable smile. He leaned into her touch, then closed his eyes and pressed his lips to her scar. He was the reason that she had it, and he'd spend the rest of his life trying to make up for all the pain and suffering that he had caused her.
He kept his lips on her, kissing further down until she was squirming a little and opening her legs wider to him in a silent plea. He didn't tease her, settling down on his stomach between her legs and looking up at her as he eased each one over his shoulders. He then kissed her inner thigh, closing his eyes and focusing every last bit of his attention on her and making her feel as good as he possibly could. He slowly kissed and nipped his way to her center, making her moan and cover her mouth with her own hand once he finally made it there. Her thighs trembled around his head and her body sang for him, her inhibitions fading into the night as she writhed in pleasure beneath the stars.
He devoured her like a starving man, and he truly was one, in every way that counted. He was achingly hard for her and she tasted even sweeter than he remembered, and the first time she came on his tongue with a gasp of his name and erratic shaking of her body from head to toe, he couldn't bring himself to stop. He looked up at her, all flushed and wrecked with pleasure, and he admired her just long enough for her to catch her breath. Then he put his mouth on her again, and this time she gasped and almost squirmed away, but he held her still. And when the near-pain of his touch had faded into heaven again, he brought two metal fingers up to join his mouth in its tireless efforts, and the way that she cried out, he wouldn't have been surprised if she woke half the city.
After one more release that came on slower than the first but lasted even longer for how carefully and sweetly he worked it out of her, Bucky pulled away with a heavy groan and caught his breath as she nearly slipped into a coma of pure bliss. His face was a mess and she had all but ruined the covers beneath them already, but he didn't care and he knew she wouldn't either. Breathing hard, he slowly started sliding back up her body, kissing her here and there until he reached her lips that she'd bitten swollen only moments before. She opened her eyes and blinked up at him with a dazed smile, and he smiled back before he kissed her deeply and let her taste herself.
"I've missed that so much," he groaned against her lips, arousal pressing insistently and impatiently on her thigh. "So fucking good, didn't want to stop..."
"If you hadn't, I might have fainted," she giggled, looking up at him and running her hands down the front of his chest. He loved the way that she looked right then - pale under the starlight and eyes heavy with satisfaction and desire, but there was one thing he wanted and needed from her before they went any further. Her hair was still in a haphazard, incredibly messy braid over her shoulder, and that simply wouldn't do. Not tonight.
This time, it was his metal fingers that reached down her body, tickling over her belly as he took the bottom of her braid in hand. He slid the hair tie securing the braid away and set it aside, then began unraveling her hair piece by wavy piece. He did it slowly, making eye contact with Summer halfway through, and there was something surprisingly intimate about it. Maybe it was because of her hair and how it had been one of the first things that had ever drawn him to her, or maybe it was the way that she looked at him as he did it, so trusting and loving and alive. Against every odd imaginable, she was here and so was he, and they had this night to share.
Once her hair was completely loose and free, Summer surged up and kissed him, and he let her overpower him and push him down on his back. She swung her leg across his hips and got on top of him, the blanket curled and tangled somewhere around their thighs and doing nothing to hide the tantalizing view of her body from his eyes. She kissed him before straightening up and blushing under the heat of his gaze, biting her lip and smiling when his hands slid up to cup both of her breasts as she teasingly ground herself down against him. His grips tightened and he groaned with need, and she lost any will she might have had to keep teasing him.
Raising up just enough so she could reach down and take him in hand, she then sunk down upon him and lost her breath at the sensation. He almost came undone right then, the heat and tightness of her body stretching and engulfing him making his mind go blessedly blank and a wave of pleasure crash through his body.
The world and their problems and his fear were all a million miles away. For them, the rooftop and this beautiful, desperately needed moment between them was all there was.
"Fuck," he ground out through gritted teeth when she started to move, rocking her hips back and forth as she slowly slid up and down, up and down. His hands fell to her hips, her thighs, everything that he could reach as she took her pleasure from him. He watched as her eyes rolled shut and she arched her back, letting out a long, shaky exhale as she moved in ways that made them both slowly lose their minds.
She was so gorgeous like that, such a fucking goddess with her hair dark and wild and down as she rode him how she pleaded, and he told her that. He told her the next time she leaned down to kiss him and let her breasts drag across his chest, the words tumbling roughly from his mouth in Russian before he had a chance to even think about it. Though she didn't understand, she moaned at his growling of the language in her ear, and then she straightened up again and he followed, sitting up and crushing her to his chest as their pace picked up and became more intense.
Pressed together as close as two people could be, they kissed passionately and held each other tight as she bounced in his lap and he thrusted up into her, hitting all the right places and making her moan in delight into his mouth. She was still so fucking hot and tight and he thought he might lose his mind, kissing feverishly at her neck and grasping her hips to bounce her on him, loving the way that she cried out in response.
He was close, and so was she. He knew that, and that was when the fear started to claw its way back to the surface. If he couldn't finish again... if he got her there but then couldn't get there himself yet again and they had to stop...
He tried to ignore that thought and others that inevitably followed, but it was a losing battle. Luckily, however, Summer knew him well enough to know exactly what was happening and put a stop to it.
"Hey," she said, cupping his face and halting their movements as she guided him to look her in the eye and focus entirely upon her. "It's okay. Bucky, look at me. Look at me. I'm right here, and we're safe. And you're..." she paused and swallowed, her face turning a deep shade of red as she added, "you're gonna come for me, just like I am for you."
He blinked at her in surprise, those words uncharacteristic and incredibly hot coming from her lips. She then pushed him to lay down on his back, taking his hands and placing them above his head. She then interlocked her fingers with his, holding his hands down where they were, and she kissed him softly but passionately before rolling her hips and making his entire body jerk.
Summer taking control was exactly what he'd needed. Laying there at her mercy, her gentle hands holding him down and her body rocking and taking him like they both needed, it chased away the doubts and the fear that had tried to ruin it all at the last minute. He gave in to her completely, letting go and letting her take him to the end.
They both neared the edge as her forehead pressed to his and breathless, blissful moans spilled from her mouth.
"I love you so much," he told her, so close to losing his mind and needing her to know how much he loved her. Her eyes opened and found his wild with heat and also heavy with sincerity that broke her heart and stitched it back together all in one look. "I love you."
"I love you too," she told him, her eyes filling with tears that didn't fall but shined brightly enough for him to see.
Then several words flew out of his mouth before he could help it or do a single thing to stop it. "Don't forget me. Promise me."
Her brows knit together and pain clouded her eyes as she replied, "Never, I swear. Never, never..." She kept chanting that word until her pleasure overcome her and she lost the ability to form words. But she stayed coherent long enough to watch him fall apart first, his first orgasm in ages finally, finally hitting him as his hands clamped down on hers hard enough to hurt and his eyes rolled shut, his back arching and mouth falling open and letting out what was first a gasp and then became a moan that was just a little bit higher pitched than the usual rough, deep groans that she was used to hearing from his mouth. The still-rich and slightly rough sound of it made her self-control snap and her own end wash over her alongside him.
To say that it was perfect didn't do it justice. It was more than sex, more than pleasure, more than intimacy, even. It was a reclaiming of Bucky's identity back from the forces constantly there in his head, trying to rip him apart from the inside out. It was a victory over his self-doubt and fear, and perhaps most importantly of all, it was exactly what they had both needed. It was an exercise in healing as much as in pleasure, and when Summer collapsed in a heap on his chest, he held her close and they stayed like that for longer than either of them could have ever known.
He stroked his flesh fingers up and down her spine, both of them slowly catching their breaths and coming down from the exquisite high. He grasped at the blanket down at their legs when she shivered, and then he covered them both up, pressing a kiss to her head and reveling in how she felt draped over him and still joined to him intimately.
Summer, for her part, finally felt like she was truly back home.
He was the first to speak, after she let out a breathy yawn against his chest. "Gonna fall asleep on me, sweetheart?"
She nodded, eyes closed and lips parted already. "I haven't been sleeping very well, but... I feel like I could sleep for a week after that."
His grin faded at the mention of her sleep trouble. "Then sleep. I'll get you back in our bed later."
She made a small noise of protest. "But we're on the roof... naked."
His lips quirked with amusement. "Don't worry about it. Just try to sleep."
"It's so hard lately," she groaned, eyes still shut and her body desperately needing sleep. "I know I'm physically fine now but I'm always afraid that I'm not gonna wake up. Or I will wake up, but I'm gonna wake up choking on a tube again."
"You're not," he assured her. "I can promise you that. You're safe. I've got you. Go to sleep, babydoll."
She let out a tiny, exhausted whine. "Babydoll. You're trying to kill me."
He grinned again. "Just returning the favor."
She sighed and settled in closer, apparently deciding to give in to him and get some sleep. "I love you," she said, punctuating those words with a little kiss to his chest. "And I'm really glad we... uh... successfully... y'know..."
"Yeah," he grinned, the relaxation and contentment flooding through his veins utterly intoxicating. He kissed the top of her head again and then closed his eyes, prepared to stay up there on that roof all night long if it meant Summer catching up on her sleep. "I love you too."
She made an indiscernible sound before drifting off to sleep at last. He closed his eyes and followed her soon after into slumber, holding her close and not letting go all night.
They felt like them again, and he had a piece of himself back. It was only a piece, however, and they were both still pretty broken these days, but those were problems for another time. For then, it was time to sleep, and finally, sleep they did.