Life After Death

by Team Damon

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

66. Chapter 66

A/N HI EVERYONE and so so sorry for the wait for this chapter. I moved again - yeah, third time moving in four months, I kid you not - so things were hectic and blah blah, typical RL excuses lol, but the point is YAY I FINALLY got this done. We're getting down to the wire here, folks, and I'm expecting this story to end up at 70 chapters even. I am ridiculously excited to have come this far, and you readers have been so great and so loyal this whole time, and I can't thank all of you enough. My huge thanks also to midnightwings96, who as always was a huge help to me during the writing process and like 99.9999% of the reason why I've gotten this far in the first place. Leave me a review and let me know what you guys think! I LOVE you all and I'll see you soon! :D

Huddled on the floor of her bathroom and clutching the toilet like it was her personal savior, Summer finished throwing up for the third time in ten minutes and groaned as the gagging in her throat finally eased up. She sat back against the bathroom wall and sighed, eyes watering and stomach feeling better now that it was empty. She wanted to drag herself off to bed and go back to sleep, but she couldn't because she had to leave with Bucky and head to court within the next five minutes.

She took a deep breath and forced herself up to her feet, shaky legs carrying her to the sink where she brushed her teeth and touched up her makeup. Bucky was out in the living area, under the impression that she had gone back to their room to finish getting ready when in reality she'd hurried off to throw up in secret. It had been a week and a half since she had found out she was pregnant, and while it had been one of the hardest things she had ever done, she had kept the news between herself and Natasha and had thus far resisted the overwhelming urge to tell Bucky. It felt a bit like tearing her very soul in two to keep such a thing from him, but she never doubted that it was the right thing to do.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror, seeing a significant difference in her appearance compared to this stage of her last two pregnancies. Though she felt like crap and everything she smelled made her want to vomit, she still looked good. She wasn't pale and her eyes were bright, and she didn't look sick at all, as opposed to her previous pregnancies during this phase of the first trimester. With David and Adelaide she had looked as bad as she had felt, and she wondered if it was the super-blood in her veins making the difference this time around.

She was thankful either way, because looking like herself made it much easier to pretend like all was normal and there wasn't a new little person growing in her womb. After washing her hands and giving herself an extra spritz or two of perfume, just in case, she turned and left the bathroom to head back to her husband's side.

She found him right where she had left him, dressed in a dark blue suit and silver tie, standing behind one of the couches and blankly watching the news on the huge TV screen. She always told him that he shouldn't watch the news for the sake of his mental health, considering how often he was top news these days, but sometimes he did it anyway against his own better judgment. Summer glanced at the screen as she approached his side, and she wasn't surprised to see that the news anchor was indeed discussing the ever-sensational trial of James Barnes.

Today was closing arguments, and then the case would go to the jury for a verdict. It was all nearly over, and the whole country was anxious to see what fate awaited the infamous Winter Soldier. The trial had captured the attention of the whole world, new headlines sprouting every week ranging from Bucky's "collapse" mid-testimony to Summer being shot outside the courthouse and just barely - and almost miraculously, it seemed - escaping death. Almost everything about the trial was sensational, and it had made Summer one of the most recognizable people in the world.

Sometimes the depth of her own celebrity was impossible for Summer to grasp. Despite her status as a New York Times bestselling author, insanely popular public figure and blogger, and wife of the world's most famous assassin, she still felt like a nobody from Virginia in her own mind. The reality of the situation hadn't fully caught up with her, since she had spent most of the last few months trying to retain custody of her kids, stay alive, and more recently, conceal a pregnancy.

One day it would hit her just how much all of this had irrevocably changed her life and the lives of the people she loved most. But today wasn't that day.

"You ready?" she asked Bucky gently, taking his hand as she stood beside him.

He blinked and nodded, turning away from the TV and turning his gaze on her. "Yeah. We need to go."

She nodded. "Yeah, let's go."

He was nervous, she could tell. He had been more quiet than usual the last few days, knowing that the trial was nearing its final phase, and she could see the fear in his eyes. It was something she had never seen before when he would be fighting an enemy or facing danger that would make most men flee in panic, but this, the threat of losing his family forever and being taken from them forever... that struck fear into his very bones.

He gave her a nod and then they were walking towards the elevator, hand in hand. As they went, the scent of her perfume wafted towards Bucky's nose, and he leaned a little closer to get a better whiff of it before he murmured, "You smell good."

"Really?" she grinned, mentally thanking God that she didn't smell like puke and deceit. She irrationally worried about that sometimes, as if he'd be able to smell her lies by omission on her very skin.

"Yeah," he grinned back. "It's that purple stuff, isn't it?"

"My jasmine perfume, yup," she chuckled, stepping into the now-open elevator with him. "You've always liked that one."

"It's a lot better than that weird green one you had for awhile," he noted, pushing the correct button as the doors closed in front of them. "What was that one, anyway?"

"Cucumber melon," she replied. "It was supposed to be a relaxing scent. You know, stress relieving and everything."

He made a skeptical face. "Smelling like a weird fruit salad relieves stress?"

"Hey, don't ask me," she shrugged. "That's just what the label said. And it was on sale, so."

He rolled his eyes affectionately, noting, "And you never can pass up a sale."

"Hey, I'm thrifty," she retorted playfully.

He grinned at her. "You're also a bestselling author and big-shot event planner for one of the biggest companies in the world. I've seen our bank account. You can afford any kind of perfume you want, from anywhere."

She sighed, hardly believing that those things were true even though they very much were. "Yeah... but that doesn't mean I'm gonna not buy cucumber melon perfume when it's on sale for five bucks."

The elevator doors opened, and Bucky chuckled as they headed towards their car. "No more cucumber melon."

"You don't like me smelling like a weird fruit salad?" she asked playfully, heading for the driver's seat.

"I like you smelling like yourself," he replied nonchalantly. "And tasting like yourself."

She blushed a little, not missing the little look that he shot her with those last words and what they meant. Then she walked right into the unopened driver's side door, having been so briefly distracted that she just smacked right into it, and they both laughed before climbing into the car.

They could distract each other like nobody else could, but even in their lighthearted moments where he teased her about perfume and she let her clumsy side come out, they were still on edge and always waiting for the next shoe to drop. The only difference was that now Summer had an extra burden on her shoulders, keeping the existence of their new child to herself and taking on all the resulting stress that she refused to impose upon Bucky.

Her stomach in knots and mind the furthest thing from calm, Summer quietly buckled herself in and turned on the ignition as Bucky settled into the passenger seat. Once she was ready, she turned to Bucky and asked him with a small smile, "You okay?"

"Yeah," he replied quickly. Then he paused and smiled without a trace of humor. "Not really, but... it's just..."

"I know," she assured him, reaching out and touching his hand. "But it's almost over. Finally."

He nodded, looking down at their hands as her warm flesh fingers stretched over the cold of his metal hand, and quietly he muttered, "Yeah. Almost out of time."

She knew what he meant by that, and it made her throat tighten and her heart ache. She knew that he didn't have much of any hope for himself to be found innocent, and now that the trial was coming to a close, in his mind, that meant that the time that he had left with his family was also almost over.

"Don't think like that," she said quietly, his eyes rising to meet hers when she spoke. "I can't think like that. Not with how far we've come and how much support we have. Not with..." Not with this new baby we made needing their father as much as their brother and sister do. "Not while there's still hope."

"Is there?" he asked, and the way that he asked it made her heart break a little bit. He was so resigned to his fate but no less devastated for it, and it was unguarded moments like those that made Summer truly hate those trying to convict Bucky in ways that she'd never hated anyone before.

"Yes," she told him, wholeheartedly believing it because she had to. Bucky winced at her answer and looked away, and Summer really just had no idea what to say to truly reach him. Maybe there were no words left that could do anything for him, and maybe all that was left was just to wait.

But Summer was Summer, and she had to try anyway. "You know," she said quietly, his hand still in hers, "since the day I met you, it's been one impossible thing after another. Even meeting you was... ridiculously unlikely. I mean, who could have ever guessed that you would have ended up passed out in front of my house? And after that, every time I thought something was impossible, I was wrong. Look at how far we've come since then, both of us, in every single way."

She could see the truth of her words mirrored in his eyes, but it still wasn't translating into any real sense of hope. She couldn't talk her own hope into him, so she sighed quietly and gave his hand a tiny squeeze. "Just... don't give up, okay? We made it to the end. We're still alive, we're still together. We can get through this. We can. Besides," she forced a smile, "who else am I gonna take that second honeymoon with?"

He smiled back, every bit as forced as she, and he murmured, "On an island somewhere far away, right?"

She smiled and nodded. "Totally secluded. Just you and me."

He leaned back against his seat, turning his eyes to hers and rubbing his cool metal thumb over her warm knuckles. He stared at her quietly before looking down at their hands and bringing hers to his lips, sweetly kissing the back of her hand and making her breath leave her in a rush. Then he looked at her in an almost dreamy, wistful sort of way and said, "I love you so much."

Suddenly, her heart felt like an anchor had dropped beneath it and was dragging her down to the bottom of the ocean. She recognized that look in his eyes and it scared her more than anything she'd ever seen from him before, including when he woke up and didn't know who she was and threw her into a wall. It terrified her because it looked like goodbye, and she couldn't handle that. She refused to even consider it as a possibility, even though she knew full well that there was a very good chance that he would be telling her goodbye permanently very soon.

Panic threatening to crawl up her throat and make a barely-contained wave of tears spill from her eyes, Summer took a shaky breath and forced herself to look away from him. She pulled her hand from his and took a deep breath, refocusing on the very important task of getting them out of the tower's underground parking and getting them to the courthouse. All the while, as she put the car in drive with a trembling hand and pushed the gas pedal with an equally unstable foot, Bucky watched her and knew full well that something was very different about her. He had known it for several days now, but he thought that it was all due to the trial coming to a close soon and his fate being decided within likely a matter of days. He didn't suspect the truth of her secret even a little bit.

As Bucky sat and quietly mused to himself how he would rather go back to Siberia and have his former captors torture him until he dropped dead than cause his family the pain that he just knew was inevitable, Summer used every last bit of strength and self control within her to keep from crying and having a breakdown to rival all others. It was hard, but staying strong for the man sitting beside her was more important than her own turmoil. She could and would survive, but what she couldn't handle was watching the man she loved reclaim his life over those last five years only to have it ripped away from him by the very same government he had once given his life in service of.

It wasn't easy, but she did it. She drove them to the courthouse and didn't let a single tear fall along the way. She'd save them for later, when she could fall apart in peace behind a locked bathroom door.

For now, it was time to be strong and let the end begin.

---

Summer almost - almost - lost her battle with her emotions when the special prosecutor gave her closing remarks.

Katherine Campbell painted a terrifying picture of a man unhinged, violent and unpredictable, once a hero but now too damaged and too compromised to be left unchecked or trusted to mere psychiatric care. She noted the undisputed facts of the case, the files and mountains of evidence that proved who killed Howard and Maria Stark, President Kennedy, and an unbearably long list of others. She asked the jury to decide their verdict based on those facts and upon reason, not emotion. She asked them to convict the Winter Soldier and finally bring justice and peace to the families forever broken by the acts of murder that James Barnes was charged with.

Those words caused such anger and fear within Summer that she felt it as physically as she did mentally. If Campbell hadn't finished her remarks when she had, Summer was sure that she would have been ill right there in the middle of the courtroom.

But then it was Matt's turn, and one thing that Summer had learned throughout the godforsaken trial was that Matt Murdock was a force to be reckoned with. He and Foggy hadn't once let her down, and what real hope she had left was wrapped up in Matt and what she hoped was the best damn closing argument any jury had ever heard.

He didn't disappoint.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began quietly, calmly, slowly walking in front of the jury box with his cane in hand, "I want to start off with an... observation that I think is very relevant to your decision making process. Throughout this trial you've heard from a lot of witnesses on both sides of the argument, big names that we all know, personalities that are larger than life. Before this trial even began, it was called the 'trial of the century' by almost every news outlet in the world. Everybody has an opinion on what the verdict should be. Everybody has an opinion on what it shouldn't be."

Standing still now before the jury, he went on, "But what I think is worth noting is the fact that every single person on both the prosecution's side and the defense's side is that they were and are free to choose their own opinions and decisions. Steve Rogers chose to receive the serum that made him the world's first superhero, and he chose to keep fighting when he came out of the ice that he chose to crash into. Tony Stark chose to create weaponized suits that changed the face of modern warfare. I chose to take this case because I believed in my client's innocence as much as I believe in anything. The United States government chose to pursue this case and try to make an example out of my client that the world would never forget. The one person who was never granted a choice, never granted the dignity of his own autonomy and self-awareness, was James Buchanan Barnes. My client was repeatedly and brutally stripped of his right to choose and his right to say no over the course of 70 years, and the man that you see sitting before you today with a wedding ring on his finger and a wife and family and friends behind him - that man didn't exist. He wasn't even a shadow or a fleeting thought in the Winter Soldier's mind. The man who could choose, who could say no and fight back - he was buried under years of conditioning and torture that none of us, not a single one of us, could ever hope to resist or overcome, had it been us in his shoes."

"The Winter Soldier could have been anyone," he told the jury. "Your father, your mother, your son or your daughter. It could have even been you, given that you were in the right place at the right time. And your father, your mother, your son, your daughter, and you would be no more guilty than my client is. His innocence speaks for itself. Since the day that he was born, when he's been allowed the basic human right of choice, he's chosen right. He chose to defend his skinny, sick best friend from schoolyard bullies. He chose to join the Army after the attack on Pearl Harbor. He chose to keep serving and keep fighting even after he was captured by HYDRA and had to endure their torture and their experiments. He chose to give his life in service of his country, but HYDRA spat in the face of that choice. HYDRA killed Howard Stark, John F. Kennedy, and every other name on the prosecution's list of murder charges. Not James Barnes. James Barnes is the man, and the Winter Soldier was the gun. And guns don't get to choose who they shoot."

Matt then paused, letting those words settle for a moment before he spoke again. "You know," he smiled slightly, "everybody we know told my partner and I that we were crazy for taking this case. Two admittedly green lawyers working out of a cheap office in Hell's Kitchen, taking on the United States Justice Department to defend the most famous assassin in American history. What were we thinking? But the thing is, I never thought twice about our decision. I never doubted that we were doing the right thing, or that Barnes was innocent. And I never doubted that you, the jury, would look at the evidence and conclude that he is innocent of all the charges pressed against him. This trial hasn't changed my mind. If anything, I'm more confident than ever that each of you will make the right decision."

And with that, the trial was officially over. Matt returned to the defense table, and the next step now was for the case to go to the jury for deliberations. There was nothing more that Matt or Foggy or Summer or Steve or anyone could do. They'd made their case, and now there was nothing to do but wait.

Summer blamed her multiplying pregnancy hormones for the tears that escaped her eyes during Matt's remarks. She simply couldn't help it, but Bucky maintained his quietly stoic outward facade despite how torn up he was inside. It was important to him to stay strong for the sake of the others, and to not give one inch of satisfaction to those that wanted to see him burn.

A sense of finality overcame them all as court was dismissed. Deliberations would begin the next day, and as Summer and Bucky walked out of their courthouse with their hands joined, surrounded by their lawyers and the friends that had stood by them from the very beginning, she asked Matt in a quiet but surprisingly steady voice, "Now what?"

"Now," Matt replied with a short exhale, "we wait."

---

And for an entire week, waiting was exactly what they did.

It was nothing short of cruel and unusual torture. For seven days, Bucky didn't sleep, barely ate, and nearly threw up from sheer dread every time the phone rang. Summer did throw up herself quite a bit, though she managed to hide it and play it off, and Bucky was too distraught to notice.

They both sleepwalked through that week, trying to stay positive and act normal for the sake of the kids, but David could see right through the act and Adelaide was fussier than usual. Bucky's nightmares came back at night, and Summer got used to waking up around 3 or 4 AM and finding him slumped in a chair near the window, his head in his hands and body unbearably tense with anxiety. There was little that she could do for him but coax him back to bed and hold him until the sun came up, providing him with the only slight sense of peace that he could find in those days.

It was hell. The others helped in every way that they could, making food for them and helping with the kids, keeping them company when they wanted it and giving them space when they needed it, but nothing really made it any better. The only thing that would do that was a not guilty verdict, and even Summer had begun to lose hope for that.

Then, on the seventh day, Bucky's phone rang. It was Foggy, telling him that the jury had informed the judge that they expected to hand down the verdict some time during the following afternoon. They had been eating dinner when Bucky got the call, and Summer knew exactly what Foggy had said when she watched all the blood drain Bucky's face and a sickening glimmer of fear replace his previous exhausted, sad expression.

Bucky quietly thanked Foggy for the call, hung up the phone, and then left the table without a word to anyone. Summer tried to call after him, but her voice was stuck in her throat and her limbs felt like dead, useless weights, so she let him go. If he needed to be alone with his fear, then she would give him his space for awhile.

This was it. She was pretty sure that she was going to be ill again.

---

About an hour after getting the call, Steve found Bucky sitting on top of the roof of Stark Tower, the very same place where he had unknowingly conceived a child with Summer only a number of weeks prior. He was standing on the edge, far too close to the ledge for Steve's taste, but Bucky always did that and it always made Steve nervous.

Steve quietly approached his friend from behind, hands in his pockets and his heart feeling painfully heavy in his chest. He knew all too well what Summer was feeling, the fear and panic of being on the verge of losing Bucky for good, and what made it even worse was the fact that he had been here before. This wouldn't be the first time that he lost his best friend, and damn it all, he was sick of this.

"I know I've said this before," Steve said as he reached Bucky's side, "but do you have to stand so close to the edge?"

He looked at Bucky to find his face completely blank, eyes red-rimmed like he had been crying recently, jaw tight with anger or maybe just sheer pain.

"I was just thinking," Bucky said, voice a bit scratchy and uneven, flat in its tone. "I should have just stayed dead when I fell off that damn train."

Steve grimaced. "Bucky..."

"Don't," Bucky shook his head, glaring forward. "You know it's true. I'm not supposed to be here. A lot of people would still be alive today if I'd stayed dead. None of this would have happened. Summer wouldn't be in the middle of all this and have her name plastered all over the fucking media. She wouldn't have been shot. Wouldn't have Child Services breathing down her neck waiting for the chance to take the kids away."

"Bucky," Steve shook his head, "you can't think like that."

Bucky laughed humorlessly. "Well, I am. 'Cause it's the truth."

"No it's not," Steve told him. "HYDRA would have found another Winter Soldier. Probably someone worse, someone who wouldn't have ever broke conditioning. All the people they made you kill, they would have still ended up dead. And as for Summer... you know what she'd say if she heard you talking like this."

Bucky shook his head. "She loves me too much to see how bad I've fucked her life up since the day I met her."

Steve sighed. "I know you're scared. I am too. But if the verdict comes in tomorrow and it's not good... do you honestly think I'm gonna let you rot in prison for the rest of your life?"

That got Bucky'a attention. He turned his head and eyed Steve suspiciously. "What's that mean?"

"It means that I'll find a way to get you out," Steve replied. "Whether it's legal or not."

Bucky winced and turned around, furrowing his brows and stepping away from the edge as he groaned, "God, Steve, no."

Steve followed him. "It's not right, Bucky, and I'm not gonna let them punish you for things you didn't do."

"But I did do it," Bucky replied miserably, turning and looking Steve in the eye. "Don't you get that? I did it all, and there's no walking away from that."

"Maybe there is," Steve argued. "If I can't keep you hidden here, maybe Thor can help. Maybe, worst case scenario, I break you out and he can protect you where he lives."

Bucky laughed out a scoff. "Asgard? You think you can just break me out and send me flying across the fucking universe and what, live there forever?"

"Look, I don't know," Steve said, letting his arms fall to his aides. "I don't know. But I can't let them do this to you. I won't."

Bucky shook his head. "You don't have a choice. If you even tried to break me out, they'd arrest you in five seconds and throw you in a cell right next to me."

"It's a risk I'm willing to take," Steve replied rather stubbornly.

"You're an idiot," Bucky muttered. "You have a life. You're a fucking... you're every little kid's hero. You mean something to people in a way I never will. I'm not worth throwing all of that away."

"You are to me," Steve replied simply, leaving no room for argument. Bucky stared at him incredulously before he found his voice again.

"No," he said. "No. I'm sick of everybody sacrificing everything for me. If you give a damn about me, Steve, you'll let whatever happens happen. I mean it." He paused, swallowed dryly and then muttered, "You've gotta stay on the right side of the law, 'cause I need you to take care of everyone for me when I'm gone."

Steve's expression grew even more pained at those words. He sighed and dropped his eyes down to his feet, Bucky also turning away and neither of them saying anything for a heavy moment or two. When Steve finally looked back up, he told Bucky quietly, "Nat took care of everything. It's all ready in case the news tomorrow isn't good."

Bucky nodded, knowing exactly what Steve was referring to. "Good."

"You know she won't like it," Steve replied. "She's gonna fight you on it."

Bucky shrugged. "It's the only way for her and the kids to be safe."

Steve nodded, not disagreeing. "It's getting late. You should get back downstairs. Spend the night with your family."

"My last night with them," Bucky mused, misery etched plainly on his face.

"You don't know that," Steve reminded him gently. "But in case you're right... yeah. You don't want to waste tonight."

Bucky inhaled deeply, knowing that Steve was right. He ran a hand through his hair and let out the breath that he'd been holding, glancing at Steve and nodding. Steve forced a small, tight smile, and something about it made Bucky's next words leave his lips.

"I'm sorry I keep putting you through this," Bucky said quietly, wholly sincerely. "This is all just... I'm more trouble than I'm worth." He smiled sadly. "Always have been."

"No," Steve shook his head, taking a few steps closer to his best friend. "You're not. None of this is your fault. None of it's ever been your fault."

Then Steve pulled Bucky into a hug that Steve gave him no choice but to accept. Bucky didn't try to fight him or shy away, instead all but melting into the embrace and hugging him back, not knowing if he would ever really see Steve again after this night. It was a sick, depressing joke that the universe kept playing on them, allowing them to be reunited in the face of insurmountable odds, only to be ripped apart yet again by forces beyond their control.

He really wasn't worth all the trouble and the pain, but Steve would never hear a word of it. Bucky would never understand, but he knew how grateful he was to have a friend that loyal and devoted from the time they were kids to that very night on the rooftop. He didn't think he deserved Steve, but he would never stop being grateful for the friendship they'd shared.

When they pulled away, Bucky didn't hesitate to say, "I meant what I said before. You've gotta take care of them for me."

Steve sighed and nodded. "I know. And I will."

"You keep them safe," Bucky said. "Make sure they have everything they need. Don't let Summer be alone like she was before, with David." Steve nodded, but Bucky wasn't quite finished yet. "And... when Addie's grown up... you've gotta be the one to make sure no punks break her heart. And walk her down the aisle when she gets married."

Steve grimaced again. "Bucky -"

"And if David has bullies at school," Bucky continued on, "you teach him how to kick their asses. You know me better than anyone. Do what I'd do for them if I was there."

"It's not gonna come to that," Steve replied, "but okay. I will. You have my word."

Bucky nodded, eyes starting to shimmer with unshed tears. "And if Summer... if she ever finds somebody else..."

"God, Bucky," Steve groaned.

"If she does," he soldiered on, "then you make sure he treats her right. Make sure he's better than me. Don't let anyone else do what I've done to her. Promise me, Steve."

"I promise," Steve assured him, even though the things that Bucky was speaking of were beyond horrific. It was wrong, it was all wrong, and if it all became a reality upon the verdict being read tomorrow... that was something that just seemed too terrible and too unthinkable to be true. But of course, most of the time, that meant that it was just awful enough to be true.

Bucky sighed. "I can live with getting put away if I know they're all right, if I know they're taken care of."

"She's got all of us, Bucky," Steve said. "Not just me. They'll be taken care of, I promise." Then he grasped Bucky's shoulder and told him more quietly, "Now go on. Go be with them."

Bucky nodded, scrubbing at his face and his eyes that he stubbornly refused to allow tears to fall from. He was determined not to cry, regardless of how unrealistic that goal was, and so far he hadn't. He wanted to be strong, and he had to be strong for Summer and the kids. He wouldn't let them see him cry, because if he started to, he feared that he might never manage to stop.

He thanked Steve one more time before heading back inside, back towards his and Summer's room. He planned on making the most of what might very well be his last night with her, and that was exactly what he did.

---

Together, like they always did every night, Bucky and Summer put the kids to bed a little while later. It wasn't often that both kids, especially Adelaide, actually stayed in their own beds and the room that they shared next to their parents' room, but it seemed that fate was on their side that night. Adelaide fell asleep in Bucky's arms, sprawled on his chest as Summer read a story to David, and before they knew it, both kids were down for the count. Summer tucked David and turned off the light next to his bed, and when she glanced at Bucky with a wordless offer to take their daughter and lay her in her toddler bed, he shook his head.

"I just... need a minute," he half-whispered. Summer nodded instantly, giving him a tight smile and surely wondering if this was the last time she would ever see her daughter sleeping in her husband's arms.

She didn't voice any of those thoughts, however. "Okay. I'm just gonna... go get ready for bed."

He nodded, making himself return her smile with an equally forced one of his own. She lingered only a few seconds before slipping out of the room, leaving Bucky alone with both of his children to tell them both goodbye in peace.

Because he knew that's what this was. It was goodbye, and he would never be ready to part with either of those two precious souls, but... here he was nonetheless.

Though he didn't want to ever let go of his little girl, eventually Bucky stood up from the rocking chair that he had gotten Addie to sleep in and carefully carried her to her bed. She stayed asleep until he laid her down on her back, at which point she stirred and opened her bright blue eyes with a delirious babbled, "Dada?"

"I'm right here, baby," he assured her quietly, rubbing her head soothingly as her heavy eyes fell closed again. He repeated those words once or twice more before she rolled over to her side, her hands slipping under her cheek and making her look like an actual sleeping angel as she drifted back off.

Bucky's heart wasn't being torn in half. It was being shredded. His eyes filled with tears and he clenched his jaw, brows furrowing as he forced the tears to stay where they were and not fall as he gazed at his tiny daughter. Not even two years old yet and he might never see her again, at least not in any way that counted. She had brought so much light and joy to his life, with every little giggle and warbled dada that had ever left her mouth, and Bucky had no idea how he could ever live without her.

Everyone always said how Adelaide looked just like him, but in Bucky's eyes, she was all Summer. Eyes bright like hers, a smile that could light up not just a room but a whole damn building, and a stubborn fire to her that he had seen many times in her mother. She had his dimpled chin and his hair, and his half of her blood was the reason why she'd never been sick with a single cold a day in her life, but Bucky still saw so much more of Summer in her than himself. He was glad for that, and he hoped that she always stayed that way.

He hoped that she forgot him quickly. He didn't want her to cry or miss him. The sooner that she forgot that she ever had him for a father, the better. She would have her mother, her brother, Steve, Nat, Wanda, Sam, and a whole family of people who loved her very much. She wouldn't remember Bucky, not with being as little as she was, and he thought it was better that way. In a terrible, sad way, she might have it easier than her brother.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Addie's forehead, pulling up her thin pink blanket to cover her up before he reluctantly turned and let his eyes fall on David, also sound asleep in his bed.

After walking the short distance to the bed, feeling like his feet weighed a hundred pounds more with each step, Bucky fished out two small folded pieces of notebook paper from his pocket. He slipped them into the top drawer of the small table next to David's bed, and then he knelt down next to the sleeping boy and felt the cracks in his heart widen and grow even deeper.

He had first met David what felt like ages ago, when he was only 5 and Bucky was trying to remember whether his name was actually Bucky or if he had no name, like HYDRA had always told him. Against the odds, the boy's quiet and wholly accepting nature had led to a tentative peace between the two of them, and Bucky had never expected their relationship to grow as it had. It was the very definition of unexpected, but it was also the most natural and easy thing in the world.

Now this boy had Bucky's last name and an attachment to Bucky that ran incredibly deeply. He was the only father that David had ever had, and where Addie would forget him, David never would. David would feel the pain of losing his daddy in a way that he would never forget. It would stay with him, in some capacity, for the rest of his life. And Bucky hated that, because he never wanted to cause that kind of pain to anyone, let alone a little boy that had become his son in every sense of the word.

All the apologies in the world would never lessen that blow, but he hoped that the words he wrote on his letters to both of his kids would help in some way, someday. He leaned forward and put a hand on David's head, pressing a kiss to the top of it before pulling away and hoping that the boy would forgive him one day.

Then, with what tentative will he had left, Bucky turned and walked out of the room. He quietly closed the door behind him and ran the back of his hand over his eyes, shoving the tears back down and taking a breath before heading to his and Summer's room.

His most painful goodbye of all was yet to come.

---

Summer was brushing her hair in the bathroom when she heard the bedroom door open and close. Blinking with suddenly reborn anxiety, she set down her hairbrush and gave herself one last glance in the mirror, trying not to frown too deeply before turning, flipping off the light, and heading back into the bedroom.

She found Bucky sitting on the edge of their bed, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. Her heart shattered a little at the sight of him like that, everything about his posture and body language giving away how wrecked he was. She couldn't say that she knew what he was feeling, but if it was worse than what she felt, she didn't know how he could breathe through such pain.

He raised his head and his eyes found her, and the minute they reached hers, her heart lurched in a way that physically hurt. She watched then as he eyes drifted downwards, over the black tank top and dark blue sleep shorts she had on. He liked those shorts, always teasing her that they were so small that wearing them was pointless, why not just cut out the middle man and wear those lacy little things you've got on underneath, but none of that mirth was anywhere near his eyes that night. She didn't expect it to be.

She sat down next to him on the bed, reaching a hand to his back and laying her head on his shoulder wordlessly. He let out a sigh at the contact, and quietly she asked, "Tired?"

He scoffed quietly. "Not even a little."

"Yeah," she agreed. "Me either."

His left hand came to rest on her knee, his lips brushing against her hair as he leaned closer to her. They enjoyed that one quiet, peaceful moment for what it was, Bucky especially, because he planned on wrecking that peace in just a few more minutes.

Summer blinked and watched him after he disentangled from her and stood up. He ran a hand through his hair and walked to their dresser, opening it and pulling out a large, blank envelope. Then he turned and headed back to the bed, sitting down where he had been before, and Summer eyed the envelope with slight confusion before asking, "What's that?"

He smiled sadly, not quite meeting her eyes. "Something you're not gonna like."

Then he handed it to Summer. She took it a bit warily, staring at him with her brows furrowed before letting her eyes drop back to the envelope. It wasn't sealed, so she flipped open the tab and reached inside.

She pulled out a handful of cards. An ID card for herself, with a different name and bearing the state design for Florida.

The other cards made her heart drop even further. Three new - fake - Social Security cards and numbers for herself, David, and Adelaide.

Holding on to the cards and turning her eyes to Bucky's in disbelief, she half-whispered, "Bucky, what... what is this?"

His expression was pained as he replied, "If you don't disappear, you know what's gonna happen. They'll take the kids. You'll always be a target. I can't let that happen."

She could feel the beginning signs of panic start to claw up her throat. "But -"

"There's cash, too," he added calmly. "Nat has it. Enough for you to get by on for a couple years. She's got a safe house in Central Florida, and if I'm found guilty, I need you to take the kids and drive to Clint's farm. He'll fly you to the house."

She was completely and utterly overwhelmed. "What? No! Bucky, I can't - I have a job, I've got... I've got a career and a life here. I can't just -"

"Yes you can," Bucky told her, still wearing that false air of calm about him. "You have to."

"But... Matt and Foggy can appeal if you're convicted, and I could still have like... five years of visiting you before the appeals are exhausted, and -"

Bucky grimaced and shook his head. "No, Summer. I'm not worth it. You need to do this. You need to disappear. It's the only way to make sure that you and the kids will be safe. Nat can get you set up with a new job, and you can write a new book under a new name, anything you want, but Summer - this is how it has to be."

Tears were stinging behind Summer's eyes, and her hands were shaking and her heart was pounding. "But I'll be alone, and -"

"Steve will come see you every week," Bucky assured her. "Nat too. Everyone's gonna be there for you guys, I promise. But you can't stay here in New York."

Summer looked away, casting her eyes back down to the offending envelope full of unspeakable contents, trying to hold back the tears but knowing it was a losing battle. One slipped out of her eye, then another, and before she knew it, her shoulders were trembling and Bucky was on his knees in front of her, the envelope cast aside on the bed for the time being.

"Summer," he said quietly, hands gently holding her face and thumbs wiping away her fallen tears, "do this for me. I have to know that you guys are safe. I can take whatever happens as long as I know that you're gonna be okay and the kids are gonna be okay."

That only made her cry even more. Guilt and panic and fear all collided and resulted in her feeling like she was going to just fall apart and not be able to piece herself back together this time. He was asking this of her and he didn't even know that she would be hiding with three kids instead of only two, and that he would miss the birth of his second biological child and never get to see their first steps or hear their first words.

"Summer," he murmured, swiping away more of her tears from her damp cheeks, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Please."

She couldn't do this anymore. She just couldn't. Her resolve to spare him further pain cracked and then simply dissolved, and after sucking in a deep breath and mentally thinking to hell with it all, Summer finally confessed, "Bucky, I'm pregnant."

For a minute, it was like the entire world stood still. Silence rang loudly in her ears as shock, confusion, and finally disbelief ran through Bucky's eyes, one after the other. But shock remained the dominant quality on his face as Bucky blinked and muttered, "... What?"

"I'm pregnant," she repeated softly, the bewilderment and confusion on his face painful to behold. "From the... the night on the roof."

He blinked a couple times, brows furrowing. "That was... that was weeks ago."

"I know," she frowned. "I found out the day I testified."

The sheer, crystal clear hurt in his eyes upon hearing those words made her guilt and growing self-hatred increase tenfold. "You didn't tell me?"

"I just... I didn't want to make it worse," she muttered. "You were already going through so much and barely hanging on and I just... I thought that I could wait until you were found innocent and tell you then."

After listening to her explanation, Bucky's hands slowly dropped from her face. His eyes also fell from hers, face pale and voice silent as he began to stare at the floor beneath him. Summer searched his features frantically, panicking inside that she had done something unforgivable and damaged their relationship in ways that she had never intended to.

"Bucky," she half-whispered, reaching out for him, but he pulled away before she could touch him. Her inner panic steadily growing, she watched him as he slowly got to his feet and then turned away, walking towards the the window in their room and coming to a halt once he was standing in front of it.

He stood there, motionless and staring out the window, and Summer watched him for a few moments, unsure of what to do. Slowly becoming more and more convinced that he now possibly hated her and would never forgive her, she vacillated between being brave and going to him and being a coward and staying where she was, not saying a word.

But this was very possibly her last night with him. If she spent it being a coward, she would never forgive herself.

After a few minutes spent in silence, Summer stood up and made her way to him. It was only once she was close enough to touch him that she saw the movement of his shoulders, a barely perceptible shaking that made her breath catch in her throat because she knew what it meant.

He was crying. Really crying. And she had never seen that kind of crying from him before.

She said his name one more time, softly and tentatively, and when she touched the back of his shoulder, he turned around and faced her. He looked her right in the eye, silent tears streaming down his face, and that was when Summer's heart finally, truly, broke.

She reached out and pulled him to her with both arms, and he melted against her and clutched at her as if she was the only thing keeping him from drowning. He buried his face between her neck and shoulder, and she held him there with one hand in his hair and the other wrapped around his back. She murmured apology after apology, making sure that he knew exactly how sorry she was for hiding the truth from him, and he only held her tighter with each new word that she uttered.

It was when he gripped the back of her tank top in a tight fist and let out a legitimate sob into her neck that she broke. Seeing and hearing him like this, watching him break down after so long trying to bottle it all up and be strong for everybody, it left her able to do nothing but cry right with him.

And she did, no longer fighting the tears, no longer trying to be strong herself. Neither of them pretending any longer and no more lies left to divide them, they ended up sinking to the floor when it all left them too weak to stand. They didn't let go of each other, Bucky still letting wave after wave leave him in heavy rushes as Summer simply held on to him, relieved and sad and terrified and knowing that this was all leading to the goodbye that she had been dreading for so long.

When Bucky finally lifted his head, swiping a hand over his face and still looking unfairly pretty for how tear-stained his face was and how red his eyes were, Summer did what he normally always did for her and wiped some of his tears away with her thumbs. Looking into his pain-filled, stormy eyes, she told him one more time, "I'm sorry."

He let out a rough, shaky exhale, nodding and replying in a voice thick with emotion, "I know. I..." He swallowed and leaned into her touch a little as she cupped his cheek, "I understand why you didn't tell me. I wish you had, but... I forgive you."

Relief washed over her at those words, and she let out a breath and felt a few more tears slip from her eyes. He reached up and wiped those away, then reached behind her neck and pulled her closer, letting his forehead fall against hers, and Summer let out a sigh at the contact. "I just... couldn't believe that it was real. I mean, the timing... and we only did it the one time, and that was the first time in months."

"I'm good at that," Bucky said, and his weak attempt at a joke made Summer let out a laugh mixed with a sob. The sound made his lips twist into a half-smile, and the next thing they knew, they were both laughing and crying at the same time.

They ended up in each other's arms again, Summer's head on his shoulder this time and his nose buried in her hair, and all was quiet again as they slowly calmed down. The laughter died first, and then the tears finally slowed down as well. Their breathing calming and returning to a semblance of normal, Summer sighed and muttered with her lips against his neck, "I wish you could just disappear with me."

His fingers carding softly through her hair, he closed his eyes and replied quietly, "I can't disappear this time."

"I know. I just... wish you could."

He paused, eyes opening and fingers still moving through her hair. "Promise me you'll do what I asked. Promise me you'll go and not look back if they say I'm guilty."

Her throat feeling tight and chest aching just at the thought of that happening, she took a deep breath and gave in. "I will. I promise."

She felt his exhale of relief, and the press of his lips against her temple. "Thank you, sweetheart."

Summer, for a moment, tried to imagine what her new life in Florida would be without him. Two kids and a third on the way, fake ID's and names, a job somewhere she didn't know anyone and a house that would probably be bugged to high heaven for the sake of safety. She'd have to change her appearance, being a worldwide public figure now. Maybe cut her hair, make it red or blonde, who knew. She'd sleepwalk through this new existence like a zombie, her kids keeping her going when nothing else would, her heart breaking and shattering all over again when she would see Bucky's face on TV or a newspaper or magazine. She'd never see him in person again. All she would have were her memories, two kids who looked just like him and a third, David, who would lose the only father he'd ever had.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't justice. It was a travesty.

"Promise me one more thing," Bucky said, quieter than before. She raised her head to look him in the eye, and his eyes began to water again as he said, "Don't... don't stop living if they put me away. Don't..." He paused. "I want you to be happy again someday. I don't want you to be alone."

She blinked. "... What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I want you to move on," he replied gently. "Forget about me, eventually. Find someone who makes you happy."

She immediately began to protest, shaking her head. "No. Are you kidding me? I can't - I'd never - are you serious?"

"I am completely serious," he told her.

"I can't promise you that," she replied. "Because I can't imagine ever even looking at anyone like that after I've been with you." When he looked like he was about to argue with her, she asked, "If the roles were reversed, could you promise me the same thing?"

He couldn't argue with her there. Instead, he simply sighed and said, "I just want you to be happy, Summer. And if I'm not around anymore..."

"I don't need a man to be happy," she told him confidently, meaning every word. "Especially not one who isn't you. I'll have our kids. And our friends. My writing. I'll be fine."

He nodded, not doubting her. "I know. I know you'll be okay. You're stronger than you know. I just want you to be happy again someday."

She nodded. "I know. And remember," she said, bringing her arms around his neck, "it's not over yet. You might be found innocent and I won't need anything that's in that envelope."

He let out a burdened sigh, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "Yeah, but odds are..."

"Odds are it could go either way," Summer replied. "And if it goes the bad way... I don't wanna spend our last night together talking about it."

He sniffed, still a little teary from before, then asked, "Then how do you wanna spend it?"

"I don't know," she admitted with a sad smile. "But maybe we could at least... move to the bed while we figure it out."

He smiled back, just as sadly, and nodded. "Yeah. Good idea."

Bucky then slowly got back up to his feet, lending her a hand and helping her up. Within the next few minutes they were settled in their bed, finding it much more comfortable than the floor had been, and after a moment or two spent quietly debating what to do next, Bucky was the one who got an idea.

He got out of the bed and went to their closet. When he returned, he had a few photo albums in his hands - their wedding album, one of Adelaide's baby photos, and then that one album Summer had made for his eyes only.

Apparently, they were going to spend what might be their last night together strolling down Memory Lane.

They laid there in bed next to each other, sitting back against the headboard and starting with their wedding album. They both smiled and laughed as they started from the beginning, the photos of them getting ready at Clint's house and preparing for the big day. The photos told the whole story of the day, from beginning to end, and Summer's personal favorites had always been the posed photos following the ceremony and then the ones from the reception.

They had been so happy back then, she mused quietly to herself. Bucky was a new Avenger, she was still shopping her book around to different publishers, and they had just agreed to cease using birth control and let what babies come that would.

It had felt like the world was theirs and that they could get away with anything and never get caught. They were safe, happy, and everything was fine. But that's how life always went, she supposed. Everything was always fine until it wasn't anymore.

Adelaide's photos came next. The first part of the album contained all of the pictures that Summer had taken of her belly at various stages of the pregnancy, progressing from tiny, barely-there baby bump to what Summer referred to as her "beached whale" phase. Then came photos of Adelaide herself, and the whole happy family. Summer's face was puffy in many of those pictures but no less radiant, and Bucky was as flawless as ever with his then-long hair, reminding her of how much she had enjoyed getting her hands in it. That had been a fun phase.

This new baby, she thought, might not get any photos like that. No photos of her daddy holding him or her for the first time in the hospital, gazing lovingly into their eyes and kissing their forehead, welcoming them into the world with all the love a child could ever want. He or she would be loved and well-cared for all the same, but Summer knew firsthand how hard it was to live without a father. It broke her heart to think that her own children would know that pain all too well.

She was on the verge of tears again when Bucky closed that album and reached for the very last one. She took one look at the cover and smiled, shying away as he flipped it open and glanced at her with a tiny grin on his face.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"I'll cringe if I look at any of those," she admitted with a shrug.

He looked at her in disbelief. "Are you kidding me? You're absolutely perfect in these."

"Well... I just... I don't know. Like I'm super proud of those, but... I don't really want to look at them either."

He sighed and shook his head, turning to one of the earlier pages of the book, where she was clad in an elegant red dress and posing like a statuesque beauty in the middle of an old, vintage-themed hotel room. "Well... I wonder if they'd let me keep this with me in whatever hellhole of a prison they plan on throwing me in."

Summer sighed and let her head drop on to Bucky's shoulder, the resignation in his tone bringing the pleasant nostalgic haze of the last few minutes to a skidding halt. She curled up to his side, closing her eyes so she didn't have to see the pictures as he skimmed through them, but she didn't get away with that for long.

"This one's my favorite."

She opened her eyes almost against her own will, curiosity getting the better of her. The photo in question was one that she remembered quite well, one of her sitting up with her head tipped back, her sheer robe open and falling off of one shoulder, nothing on underneath.

She had to admit, she looked rather flawless in that photo. And it wasn't because of editing either, because Nicolo had sworn to not retouch anything or alter her body in any of the photos. They were only for Bucky, after all, and he would have known had an imperfection been airbrushed away.

"Yeah... I am pretty hot there," she conceded. "Because... well... boobs."

"Because everything," he corrected her, closing the book and setting it aside so that he could focus on the real woman instead of pictures of her, regardless of how beautiful said pictures were. He turned on his side and she did the same, very little space left between them as he reached out and touched her face with his cool metal fingers.

She reached up and grasped his wrist with her fingers, flesh warm on top of metal, looking him in the eyes as he told her barely above a whisper, "I love you so much."

Her breath hitched when she heard his tone. "This is goodbye, isn't it?"

"If it is," he murmured, "I want you to know that you're the best thing that ever happened to me. And it's selfish of me to say that, 'cause I've fucked up your life more than you'll ever admit, but... you made me happy. You made me happy when I didn't think I could be happy, and you've given me so much. More than I've ever deserved."

And just like that, her tears were back. She blinked and two of them fell from her lashes, and he was quick to wipe them away.

"I'll never understand why you love me like you do," he told her next. "But I'm more grateful for it than words can say. And I'll love you until I stop breathing."

She almost stopped breathing at those words. Closing her eyes and gripping his wrist tightly, tears continued to flow from her eyes and he continued to wipe them away for her, his touch as loving as his gaze.

"I can't do this," she groaned, voice more wobbly than she could stand, eyes stubbornly screwed shut. "I can't... I feel like I'm..."

"Shh," he murmured, leaning forward and kissing her forehead, cradling her face sweetly. "You don't have to say anything."

"I do," she argued weakly.

"No you don't," he said, "because I know how much you love me. I know because you've written books about it. You've told me in every way a person can tell someone they love them."

"Then what do you want me to do?" she asked.

He paused, eyes falling from her eyes to her lips and back up again. "Just... be with me. Let me memorize everything about you so I never forget, no matter what they do to me."

He voice broke on those last few words, and a lone tear fell from his eye after. That broke Summer's dam all over again, and as she let her emotions run wild again, Bucky leaned in close and pressed his lips softly to hers.

She threaded her fingers through his hair, kissing him back and never wanting to let him go. She wanted to wrap him up in her arms and steal him away, hide him where nobody could ever find him and spend the rest of her life protecting him. She didn't have a metal arm or a super serum or really anything more than a can of mace and a gun or two that she was a pretty good shot with, but she would have done everything in her power to protect him all the same.

But she was powerless. Even Steve and all of the Avengers couldn't get Bucky out of this one, and if they couldn't do it, then she was even more useless.

Tonight, however, wasn't about that. It was about the two of them enjoying what little time they might have left with each other, and telling each other goodbye in the only way they knew how. It tore them both up to do it, but there was no other way, nothing else they could do. They needed each other one last time, to leave a lasting mark on one another that time and separation couldn't fade.

He was hers, and she was his. No matter what happened this would always be true, and they set out to prove it to each other.

Slow, sweet kisses turned a little more open and a little deeper as the moments dragged on. Bucky kissed her until she was breathless, and then he slid his tongue between her lips and stole her breath away again before she could catch it. Then he let his lips wander, kissing the corner of her mouth and then the curve of her cheekbone, literally kissing her tears away in a gesture that made her heart ache.

"Don't cry, baby," he murmured, kissing her just under her ear, hand sliding slowly down her side.

"Can't help it it," she replied, eyes closed and body responding achingly quickly as he kissed down her neck. He knew all of her favorite spots, had them memorized like the back of his hand, and he knew just how to kiss, nip, and tease them with his tongue to make her squirm with need. That time was no exception.

He eased her down on her back with the utmost of care, hovering over her and bringing his lips back to hers, making sure not to put any weight on her belly. He kissed her slowly, deeply, enough to make her heart ache and heat bloom in her veins, and through it all she just wanted to cry because this might be the last time she ever got to feel him like this.

Metal hand ghosting along her side and sliding over her belly, his fingers slid under the hem of her tank and drifted upwards, his lips breaking from hers as his fingers traced over her skin. His forehead leaned against hers and she opened her eyes to find his fixed in a sweet gaze, watching his own hand trace over her belly.

She watched then as his eyes grew sad and he furrowed his brows, new tears shining in his eyes as he thought about this new life they'd created and how he may never even lay eyes on it. It broke her heart to see his face like that, so she covered his hand with hers and leaned up to kiss his cheek, then his jaw, and finally his neck as she shifted and sat up, making him sit up with her.

His eyes locked with hers as she climbed on his lap, one leg on either side of his thighs as she cupped his face and then kissed him with everything that she had. His hands went to her hips and hers drifted to his shoulders, their lips moving less slowly together than before, quicker now and more needy, much like his hands as they grasped at her and then slid up under her top to feel her warm skin.

She broke the kiss just long enough to pull away and let him pull her top up and off of her, dropping it carelessly and immediately tugging her back to his chest. She wasn't wearing a bra and his hands were immediately on her, metal arm wrapped around her waist and right hand cupping one breast as he dropped his face between them, closing his eyes and, for a moment, seeming to just breathe her in.

She wrapped her arms around him and held him close, fingers in his hair and her other arm draped over his shoulders. She could feel the slight scratch of day-old scruff as he nuzzled her skin, and she closed her eyes as his lips pressed a soft trail to the top of one breast and then slowly worked his way down, until his lips were wrapped around a nipple and she gasped at how sensitive she was. In a few more weeks she would probably be too sensitive to enjoy such a touch, thanks to hormones, but for now it was still incredibly pleasant.

She let out a moan when he turned his attention on her other breast, nails lightly scratching his scalp as she mindlessly rocked down against him. He groaned at the sensation, achingly hard underneath her and needier than he could express, but she knew. She knew everything, and he knew how much she needed this too.

He pulled away when she started clawing his shirt up, and they both pulled it off before colliding again with a hard but sweet, desperate kiss. It felt like only seconds before he had effortlessly scooped her up in his strong arms and gently laid her down, never even breaking the kiss as her head hit the pillow.

Her eyes opened when he drew away, warm flesh fingers tracing the soft skin of her face and his eyes shining again as he gazed down upon her. A painful lump formed in her throat and only became worse when he murmured, "You're so fucking beautiful."

Those words only brought tears to her eyes again, and when he then kissed her, she could have sworn that she felt a teardrop or two of his fall on her cheeks. The kiss lingered, deepened and became as hot as it was bittersweet, and then he rocked his hips down against hers and broke away with a breathless groan. After that, it was like he couldn't get the rest of their clothes off fast enough.

But once they were both bare and he had discarded the rest of the offending clothing, everything slowed down again. He kissed her lips sweetly, still taking care to put no weight on her belly, and then he kissed her throat, the side of her neck, down to her shoulder and then across to where the dip of her collarbone was, and from that point on, he made it his personal mission to kiss and worship every last inch of her. He really did want to commit all of her to his memory in a way that he could never forget, and she felt like she was just barely hanging on, on the verge of being so overwhelmed that she may never recover again.

He worked her up into a quiet, desperate frenzy with the attention that he poured on her breasts, always one of his favorite parts of her. He had watched them change with pregnancy, grow almost comically huge and then return to their more normal, still rather enormous size, and through it all he had always made her feel like the most desirable woman in the world. But she knew that if she had woken up the next morning to find that her breasts had bizarrely and spontaneously disappeared and left her flat-chested, he still would have desired her just as badly. It was a beautiful, rare thing, to know that he found her as beautiful as a man could find a woman, and that he would also love her and want her all the same no matter how she looked or how her body changed over the years.

By the time his mouth had found its way down to her belly, below her navel, she was squirming needily and her head was a mess. He peeked up at her as he trailed lower, her eyes meeting his and body tensing with each new press of his lips, only to deflate a little when he skipped over where he thought he might go next in favor of her legs.

"I love your legs," he admitted, sitting back on his knees and lifting one, pressing his lips to her inner knee. He trailed his lips in the opposite direction that she expected, towards her ankle, and that was just where his mouth ended up. He closed his eyes and kissed and nipped right there at her inner ankle, and when it made a shiver burst through her entire body, she let out a sound of surprise that made him grin at her before setting down her leg to give her other equal attention.

He started at her ankle and then worked his way up, not too slow and not too fast, until his lips were creeping up at her inner thigh and making her tense with anticipation all over again. He waited until he was almost there, and then he sucked a lasting mark into the highest part of her innermost thigh before running his tongue along the mark to soothe it. She was nearly dying with need, and he didn't make her wait much longer. He looked up and made searing eye contact with her before bringing her leg over his shoulder and lowering his head, closing his eyes and setting his mouth to her with a low, hungry groan.

She all but melted under his touch like she always did, her head sinking into her pillow and her body pulsing and tensing with pleasure. He went slow but he didn't tease her, instead giving her everything she wanted and making it last as long as he possibly could. His hands roamed from her thighs to her hips, to her breasts and then back down again, his right hand eventually entwining with her left as she grew closer and closer to the precipice that he was guiding her to.

Her fingers tightened between his and her quiet noises grew a little louder as she began to shake. He grasped her hand back and used his left to tease at her breast, the combined sensations and the intensity of the moment pushing her over the edge as she let go with a shuddering, broken moan.

He led her through it carefully and gently, his mouth never fully stopping its work. He still didn't stop when it was over, instead disentangling his fingers from hers and easily slipping two within her, making her gasp and squirm again. He peeked up at her and began to slowly pick up the pace again with both his mouth and his fingers, watching as she trembled and almost tried to shy away from him before the over-sensitivity faded and turned into pure pleasure, and then she was a writhing, moaning mess all over again.

She came again and again, two more times before Bucky finally eased up and let her have a break. He pulled his hand and mouth away, panting a little from exertion and looking her over as she laid there before him, a loose pile of heavy limbs and satisfaction thanks to him. Her eyes were closed and she missed the way that he dropped his still-slick hand down to stroke at himself as he slowly made his way up her body, throbbing with need and staring at her like he would never get to see her like this again.

He might not. That was why he had to make the most of it while he still could.

He kissed her gently and slowly until she fully came back around, her mind returning to her after he had successfully blown it away. He let go of himself and instead gently ground against her, the feel of him hard and aching against her belly making her breath hitch and her eyes open.

"You're so gorgeous like this," he told her lowly, tracing the skin of her flushed face with his finger, his tone one of sheer adoration. "Wish I could remember you like this forever."

"You can," she murmured back, kissing him again and then using her jelly-like leg to hook over his hip and roll them over. He gladly went down on his back, hands going to her hips as she kissed his lips from her place atop him. When she pulled away, she added, "And it's still not over. This can still be just the start for us."

His eyes grew unbearably sad, like he already knew the outcome and had foreseen it and thus simply couldn't hold on to such obvious false hope. "Summer," he muttered, but she put a finger on his lips and hushed him.

"I know," she replied quietly. "I know. Just... let's enjoy this while we still can. No matter what happens."

He nodded, feather-softly kissing her fingertip, and then she leaned down and kissed him again, words and thoughts and the world forgotten for the time being.

Then, when his soft groans and the push of his hips up into hers became too much, it was time for her to memorize him as he had memorized her. She kissed and touched her way down his body slowly, savoring each inch of skin that she got to press her lips to and the taste of him on her tongue. She knew where all of his spots were too, the ones that would make him shudder with want and the one by his ribs that a brush of her fingers would cause a breathless giggle to erupt from his throat. She tickled him on purpose on her way down, just to see him smile instead of frown for a moment, and when he did indeed smile and curse under his breath, it made her smile and laugh herself before she continued on her way.

He was rather huge in those days, as house arrest had left him with little to do to pass the time aside from spend hours and hours in the tower's gym. Muscles that had already been considerable before were now even bigger, firmer, and she traced every one with her fingers and her tongue. He lovingly ran his fingers through her hair all the while, patience running thin but enjoying her touch too much to ask for more just yet. Besides, he knew that she would take him where he needed to go once she got there herself. He was in no hurry that night.

Her mouth was tracing the defined lines down his hips when her hand finally brushed over him, making him twitch and inhale sharply. She rubbed over him a few times, back and forth before wrapping her fingers around him and slowly moving her hand the way that she knew he liked. She looked up to watch his eyes roll shut and his lips part, looking so incredibly pretty in that moment that she decided she would never forget it.

Then, the very moment that she brought her mouth into it and licked a slow, firm line along his length, above where her hand was, his eyes opened and his hand tightened in her hair. She looked him in the eye and blushed before letting her eyes fall shut and letting her instincts take over, taking him into her mouth and, to both of their surprises, giving him one of the best experiences of his life.

It felt like sheer heat and electricity from the first touch of her tongue onwards. He made noises that he hadn't made in a long time, feeling like he was on the edge from the first moment that he felt himself hit the back of her throat. He kept her hair pushed out of the way with his hand and watched her, using her mouth and her hand to drive him crazy, her every touch tailored to what he loved and designed to make him see stars.

He hadn't planned on losing control just yet, but when she did something incredible with her tongue while swallowing around him and her hand twisting, he found himself tensing and then letting out a helpless, gasping moan from low in his throat, eyes closed and back arched as he spilled into her mouth, all of it beyond his control.

Summer knew better than to worry if she had gone too far and brought the night to an early end. She eased him through it and took all that he gave her, gently releasing him and feeling rather proud as she took in how thoroughly wrecked he was - lying there with his eyes closed, chest heaving up and down, and still half-hard despite it all because, well... super-stamina and general deprivation would do that to a guy.

She smiled at him when his eyes opened and fell on her, still heated and far from satisfied despite having had his mind blown as much as hers had been a little while earlier. He reached for her and she wasted no time in coming, straddling his thighs once again as he sat up and pulled her in for a kiss with a metal hand on the back of her head.

"Didn't mean to do that," he murmured against her lips, slightly sheepish grin on his face.

"I did," she replied cheekily. "You know I love doing that. Only with you, though."

"Yeah, I can tell," he murmured, gently kissing her lips again. "You've always been greedy for it."

A blush touched her cheeks and she smiled, running her hands down his shoulders and his arms, her eyes tracing over the beauty that was him. "You know you're beautiful, right?" When he scoffed and looked away with a smile, she turned his face back to her and said, "I mean it. And I know I've told you before, but... I really, really mean it. You're beautiful in just... every single way."

His expression growing more sober and more serious, he didn't argue with her that time. Instead he watched her eyes as her fingers traced his features, from his lips to his cheekbones to his jaw and everything in between, and when he saw her eyes start to shine again, he took her hands in his and draw them away, pulling her closer into a warm embrace and murmuring against her ear, "Please don't cry."

It was too late, however. She was already there, squeezing her eyes shut against his neck, trying not to let the tears fall. He ran his right hand up and down her back, eyes closed almost as tightly as hers were, kissing along her shoulder when it all threatened to become too much.

Tiny, hot little shivers shot up and down her spine as he kissed along her skin, from her shoulder to her neck and back again, his warm fingers trailing softly down her back and over her hip before sliding back up again. She let her eyes open and stopped trying to fight the tears, letting her head loll to the side so he could better mark her neck. Her entire body shivered when he licked a hot path up to her ear, and without fully realizing it, she started grinding down against him and getting him fully ready one more time.

The next time that their lips met, it was all passion and need with underlying emotions that made it all so much more than simple physical touches. He ran his hands over her breasts and made her head spin with what his tongue was doing with hers, and she made his skin tingle with every light scratch of her nails across his back and every rock of her body against his.

They stayed like that, kissing and touching and teasing until Summer herself could hold out no longer. She broke their kiss and straightened up on his lap, shifting them just enough and just right, and then with their eyes locked, sinking down on him at last. He exhaled roughly and she bit her lip, taking him all the way in and dropping her forehead against his, already on the verge of being overwhelmed.

All she could think in that moment was that she couldn't lose him. It was unthinkable, the idea that they'd never be this close again, that she might never hold him close again, never kiss him again, never feel the way that his body trembled with pleasure when they were together like this...

"Hey, hey," came his soothing voice in her ear, his arms wrapped around her tightly and lips kissing her hair. "Don't cry, baby, please."

But she truly couldn't help it. And the problem was that her tears sparked tears of his own, so when he easily and gently turned them and laid her down on the bed, never breaking their connection, she opened her eyes only to find him now overcome as well, eyes glistening with tears that he no longer had the will to fight.

He kissed her softly, deeply, and then stole her breath when he started moving. It was slow and sweet, his lips soft on hers and his breath noisy and labored, and she felt like she was torn between pure heaven and utter hell. He felt the very same way.

They took their time, Bucky slowly increasing his pace and occasionally changing the angle, always making her gasp and slowly crawl closer to the edge. He kissed her lips, her neck, her chest, sometimes leaning down far enough to take a nipple in his mouth and sweetly torture it, and Summer felt the emotion building in her chest and slowly suffocating her all the while. She wanted to hold on to him and never let go, hold on tight and cling to him and dare the world to tear them apart.

When the pace was no longer quite so slow and they could both feel their pleasure building, Bucky cradled her face with his right hand and murmured brokenly against her lips, "I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

Her eyes flew open, meeting his in slight confusion, their movements never faltering. "What?"

He clenched his eyes shut and her heart nearly stopped beating as she watched him cry and grit out, "I never wanted to hurt you, Summer. I'm sorry. God, I'm so fucking sorry, baby..."

"No, no," she half-whispered, taking his face in her hands. "Don't, please. I love you."

"I love you too," he groaned, breathing hotly against her neck, body rolling against hers and bringing them closer. "Love you more than anything, I swear... please," he said, looking her in the eye, his own tears mirrored on her face, "don't forget me."

"Never," she promised him. "I couldn't, I promise."

He kissed her again, hard and sloppy and desperate, then said against her lips, "I'll never forget you. No matter what, I won't."

"I know," she forced out, voice barely strong enough to speak.

He held her face in his hands, eyes full of love and fear and dread and devastation, and then just when Summer was sure that she might stop breathing, everything instead crashed over like a wave and she came with a surprised, strangled cry. Bucky watched her for as long as he could before it overtook him as well, and then he buried his face in her neck and followed her over the edge.

In the aftermath, neither of them could say a word or move an inch. It had all been so much and so intense and so horrifically sad that it left them both satisfied but still unable to restrain their emotions. There was nowhere for them to go but out, until they were both entirely cried-out and too exhausted to shed one more tear.

Bucky eventually rolled them both to their sides, holding Summer in his arms and tucking her head under his chin, their eyes closed and limbs entwined, hearts still racing.

It was a long time before either of them spoke. When one finally did, it was Summer.

"I don't want tomorrow to come," she whispered against his skin, savoring his warmth and the feel of his heartbeat against hers.

He kissed the top of her head and tightened his arms around her, closing his eyes tight. "It's gonna come. Promise me you'll be strong. You have to be."

"I will," she replied, having no idea how she was going to accomplish this but seeing no other choice.

"If it's bad," he said, voice trembling only slightly, "you run and you don't look back." She nodded against his chest. "Never look back, Summer."

She nodded again, a wordless promise to leave him behind to his fate so that she and the kids could be safe. She hated it - absolutely hated it - but if this was what he wanted and this was his last request of her, then she would see it through to the end, cost her what it may.

Her last conscious thought before drifting into an uneasy slumber was a prayer that she spoke in her mind, that against the odds, Bucky would be found innocent and that this time the following night, she would be in his arms again. She prayed that he would stay with them, raise their children together with her, and see their third child born when the day came.

Maybe it was a silly little prayer and an even sillier hope to cling to. But she didn't care. She held on to that prayer and that hope with everything she had, knowing that tomorrow they would finally learn Bucky's fate and that she was nowhere near ready to face it.

Neither was he, but they simply didn't have a choice. They would face it together, and it might just prove to be the very last thing that they ever would or could face together.