We hastily made our way out of Hightown. I needed to get to the docks in Low town, and fast. If any of my old smuggler contacts had returned after the Blip, maybe one could get us out of here on a boat.
But Lowtown was a warzone.
It looked like something out of The Purge, fires, screams, bodies. Chaos ruled the streets. I hoisted Mira up and leapt onto the rooftop of a nearby building. Safer to move through the city from above. At least up here, we were ghosts among flames.
When we reached the docks, it was worse than I expected. Most of it was up in smoke, some ships were already sinking, others caught in crossfire. The smugglers were tearing each other apart, fighting over routes and turf like rabid dogs. I couldn't bring Mira into that. I didn't know if she could heal, and I wasn't about to find out the hard way.
Plan B it is.
We moved swiftly across the rooftops until we reached that building, the old brothel in the heart of Low town, the place Mira had been born. The place I had been reborn.
To no surprise the doors were all closed and locked, windows barricaded, aside from some new tags on the walls it still looked the same though.
I set Mira down in the corner of the roof of the brothel.
"I know it's scary," I told her, brushing her soft brown hair behind her ear, "but I need you to stay here for a few minutes while I grab something. If anyone comes near, you know what to do with your bracelets."
She gave me that sweet, fearless grin. "Okay, Mom. I'll wait."
With that, I swung down into the top-floor window, smashing through it.
It used to be our room. Now? A sex dungeon. Red and black walls, shelves of toys and restraints, the air thick with the scent of sweat, latex, and old lube. A heart-shaped bed sat in the center, red silk sheets tangled in the aftermath. Whoever had been using the room must've bolted when the city went to hell. Probably didn't want to die mid-thrust.
I ignored it all and went straight to the wall where Mira's crib used to sit. Buried behind a panel, right where I left it, was my old go-bag. I punched through the drywall and yanked it out.
Inside: spare clothes, fake IDs, a loaded pistol with extra mags, a combat knife, clean cash, and a key.
Back on the roof, I changed Mira first. The backup clothes were a bit big, but she looked adorable in her purple-and-black long sleeve butterfly dress and matching sneakers. I left her black tights on. There was a jacket, hat, gloves in the bag too, but the weather was warm enough to skip them.
For me, it was my usual: black leggings, a loose t-shirt, my knee-length hooded leather coat, and black combat boots. Practical. Familiar. Comfort in the chaos. Black doesn't show blood, or dirt, as easily.
We waited. I kept Mira busy with a few pocket games I'd stashed, while I watched the fires at the docks die down. Eventually, the violence quieted. I moved fast and stole a small speedboat. I learned to drive one a long time ago during my time in Hydra.
As we skimmed over the water toward Malaysia, my thoughts went to the people we left behind. Roller, with his terrifying build and soft spot for kids, always brought Mira toys when he visited. Sierra, her second mother in all but blood. Others too… little fragments of a found family shattered by time I didn't know had even passed.
Maybe one day, we'd find them again.
I docked at a shipping yard I knew well. The key I had opened a shipping container that had been there for years, marked with my insignia on the lock: a red crown encased in flames. Still untouched. Still respected. Inside was an SUV, spare license plates for multiple countries, more weapons, and, most importantly, falsified shipping documents, bribery cash, and all the paperwork I'd need to get the container loaded and shipped with us inside it.
To no surprise the docks here were also in a bit of chaos from everyone's return, it worked in my favor. People weren't asking questions. They were too busy dealing with the global resurrection.
I set the destination: New York.
Where Bucky was from. Where the Avengers were, what was left of them at least. If anyone could help me figure out what was happening to Mira, it was someone there.
I was told the voyage would take over a month. All the scheduled stops, customs delays, the sluggish pace of cargo travel, it made sense. And frankly, that was fine by me.
I stocked up before departure, more clothes for Mira, toys, books, food, water, and first-aid. The car's trunk already had basic supplies, but I kept those in reserve.
Mira adored the ocean. Maybe too much. Every time I turned around, she was leaning over the railing, hair whipping in the wind, eyes wide with wonder. I kept her tethered close, scared she might fall over by accident.
She tore through the books I brought her in the first few days. After that, she made friends with the crew. Thirty-three people on board, from all over the world. They were good people. Answered her endless questions about ships and storms and such.
The captain even let her "drive" the boat once, not that she knew it was on autopilot.
Sometimes, in moments like those, she felt like any other child.
Other times, when her eyes went distant and unreadable, it felt like she carried the weight of the universe in her small body. Like she knew things. That eerie calm had started to fade since we set sail. Maybe the idea of meeting her father helped her reclaim a bit of her childhood.
I'm not sure.
I spent my nights monitoring the news, well, trying to. Had to ask the crew to help me navigate the digital stuff. I was used to having Sierra handle it. Me and tech don't get along.
Eventually, the crew caught on and just started reading headlines to me as they saw them. According to everything we heard, the Avengers had reversed the Blip, but their compound was rubble. Tony Stark, gone. Gave his life to bring everyone back. Captain America? Rumors said he'd retired. No one knew where he was.
And Bucky?
No word.
That scared me more than anything.
Was I leading Mira into more danger? Into a world where her father might be dead, or worse, someone we couldn't trust?
And with Stark gone, who could even help us figure out her powers? God knows I had no idea what they were developing into.
I looked at her, laughing, playing tag with a burly mechanic from South Africa, and I felt the guilt settle heavy in my chest.
I never gave Bucky a chance, to know this marvelous girl. Never told him about her. I let fear guide me. I let what they did to us define my choices. I was selfish.
Didn't give him choice.
Just like Hydra did to us.
No more.