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

Chapter 20

Song: "You Always Hurt the One You Love" - The Mills Brothers

That afternoon in the break room was the last time Bucky saw Summer. After that, it was as though she had left his life for good.

But Bucky knew she was around. He'd see her name on mission logs, her work in case files - sometimes, he'd even hear her voice muffled off in the distance between the halls at S.H.I.E.L.D.'s headquarters.

Even so, their paths never crossed. Their last interaction, if one would call it that, took place a few days after that fateful conversation - Bucky woke up one morning, opened his apartment door, and in came tumbling the unreasonably gigantic stuffed bear he had bought for Summer on the day they went to FAO Schwarz.

It came with a note: "You should've just returned him."

Sighing, Bucky took the bear inside.

After that, there was nothing else. Summer went her way, and Bucky went his. With no sign of Kirishima, Summer for the most part worked alone. And, in typical Summer fashion, she relied on S.H.I.E.L.D. to keep her schedule as busy as possible. They sent her everywhere - from upstate New York to Eastern Europe, back to Japan, once even out on the sea chasing down a band of government-sponsored pirates. Bucky could only imagine the kick Summer got out of that one.

Bucky, too, got his share of work, sometimes traveling alone, sometimes accompanying Sam. Missions had a different tone now. No longer did incessant chatter fill every vacuum of silence throughout the day. No more breaks for ice cream nor exaggerated "oohs" and "ahhs" at the sight of things that were bright and colorful. No more quirky quips. No more recaps of the day told with overenthusiastic excitement. No more bouts of nostalgia whenever a certain song came on.

One thing was for sure - things were different without Summer.

When Bucky was home, he often found that little things would spark her memory back into his consciousness. The sound of a piano. The lights at Times Square. The dress display in the Macy's window.

Occasionally, he'd thumb through the playlist of modern music Sam had created for him, as well as the "through-the-decades" collection of everything after 1949. Bucky kept catching himself repeating songs from the '50s and '60s. He took a liking to these decades, particularly the jazz and big band. He wished he could tell Summer she was right - the '50s was Sinatra's golden age.

He tried reaching out again - more than once, sometimes every couple of days - but grew continually discouraged as his texts and calls remained unanswered. It always went to voicemail, her signature sing-song voice cheerfully telling the person on the other line to leave a message. Sometimes Bucky did; sometimes he didn't.

Nonetheless, it was all just one more thought that weighed heavily on Bucky's mind, though this in particular seemed to occupy his brain more than anything else. He almost liked this form of misery better, compared to the other thoughts that had traditionally kept him up at night.

While Bucky liked to wallow, Summer was the opposite - just working on autopilot, taking on mission after mission, minding her own business, salvaging whatever happiness there was to find wherever she went.

Right now, it was all she could really do.

End song.