Winter & Summer: A Marvel Story in an Alternate Universe!

Chapter 17

The hail outside pattered like bullets against the glass of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s medevac ship, occasionally interrupted by a sharp clap of thunder. Summer, watching the storm from a window in the recovery quarters, was grateful to be inside. It sure looked bad out there.

"Well, hail HYDRA, am I right?" Summer remarked. "Figures. HYDRA shows up, and it starts hailing." She smirked and dropped her tone. "Guess you can say HYDRA got hailed. Ahahahahaha...ow!"

Wincing, Summer clutched her side as she turned from the window to face Bucky. They sat alone, face to face across from one another, their wounds and breaks temporarily stitched and set until they could reach S.H.I.E.L.D.'s medical facility for more thorough evaluations. Bucky's left T-shirt sleeve hung loosely below his shoulder, his damaged metal arm removed to be sent to Wakanda for repairs.

He sat quietly, disturbed, trying to fathom everything that had just transpired: Kirishima having the power to crush vibranium with his own strength. How close he came to recapturing Summer.

But what bothered Bucky the most - those words. How cruel Kirishima was for repeating those words to her.

And yet, such thoughts weren't enough to keep Summer from talking.

"Boy, was I glad Sam showed up. If he didn't, I'd probably be back with Dr. K, you'd be scrap metal, and everything would just be bad - also, this storm came outta nowhere! When I heard the thunder, I lowkey thought Thor was going to appear - see what I did there? Lowkey, Loki - it's a modern term. It means 'honestly.' At least, I think that's what it means. I think I'm saying it right. Lowkey. Anyway - imagine how cool it would be if Thor flew in with Captain America. Right? Ah man, I really want to meet Thor. He just seems so cool. The way he summons the lightning like - ow!"

Summer's face contorted. Her cracked ribs made it a little difficult to raise her arm and wield a pretend Mjolnir.

As she paused for a second, shaking off the pain, Bucky figured it was a good time to bring up something that had been on his mind for a while. "Hey," he said, "are you all right?"

Summer scrunched her nose and nodded. "I'm good," she said, slowly setting her arm down and leaning backward to relax. "Guess I forgot what it's like to have a bone broken. This sucks - 'sucks' is another modern expression..."

"No, I mean..." Bucky stumbled, trying to formulate the words. "I mean, are you all right? As in..." He looked off, shook his head and sighed, with a tinge of frustration in his tone, before turning back at Summer. "I can just imagine how that must've felt, hearing those words again from the person you used to always hear them from."

Summer pursed her lips, her caramel-brown eyes dancing around the room as they avoided contact with Bucky's. She simply shrugged. "I don't know," she said coolly. "It felt weird, I guess. I mean I knew I wasn't gonna turn. I wasn't worried about that..."

"No, but..." Bucky went on. "Myself, for example. Anytime I hear the word 'longing,' even in English, it just...puts me in a place..."

"Oh yeah? I guess I can see that. But it's all over, right? Past is past. It is what it is."

Bucky furrowed his brow. He shouldn't have been surprised by her response. Cool, casual, nonchalant - typical Summer. She was never one to take anything seriously. Not even after all HYDRA had done to her.

But it didn't sit right anymore.

"It is what it is?" he repeated. His face began to grow into a scowl, his tone turning darker. "We were kidnapped, tortured, brainwashed and turned into human weapons. And that's all you have to say? It is what it is?"

Summer side-eyed the wall, then looked back at Bucky. "Is it not?"

"Why are you like this, Summer?"

"What do you mean?"

"I just feel like anytime we ever talk about what HYDRA did to you, what HYDRA did to me - you talk about it like, like it's nothing, like it's something funny."

"I've never said it was funny."

"But you act like it."

"Well, maybe I just don't take myself as seriously as you do."

"I take it seriously because it is serious," Bucky said firmly. "We killed people, Summer."

"Umm, I'm kind of aware of that?"

"Do you not remember their names? Do you not see their faces? The look in their eyes as you were taking their lives with your bare hands? Do you not think about that?"

"What if I don't want to?"

Bucky took a breath to respond, but decided not to. He only lowered his shoulders and sat back, looking away from her.

"Why are you so angry?" Summer asked.

He pursed his lips and shook his head. "I don't know," he said. "I guess when I met you, I had this impression that I'd finally found someone who..." His voice trailed for a second, before he finished, "...someone who understood."

Summer frowned. "But we're different people, Bucky."

That response only frustrated him more, so Bucky remained silent.

Hating the lull, Summer just continued, "I mean..." She pointed at him, then herself; and with each phrase, her tone grew light once again. "Winter...Summer. Arm...legs. Russia...Japan. Weapons, all the time...weapons, sometimes, I guess..."

"Hey, Summer, can you do me a favor?" Bucky interrupted. "Can you just stop talking? For once?"

Summer's mouth simply hovered open, an uncomfortable feeling bubbling inside. But she quelled it, instead settling back into her seat, without another word.

There was silence the rest of the ride.