The heavy sound of rain drowns out the noise of Low Town as I walk. I could take a car or call someone to come get me, but drenching myself in the rain just feels… right.
Memories of Mira flash through my mind, thoughts spiraling. What happened to her when I left? Did she cry? Ask where I went? What did Bucky tell her when he left her with Sam? What will he say to her now, when he goes back without me?
Maybe that I died. Or will he be cruel and say I abandoned her? Maddening, but in a sense, it's the truth. I've rationalized my choice to escape the guilt of what I've done.
My arm jerks back from a sudden pull. A car drives past, mere inches away. Someone pulled me out of the way. The hand grips my arm tightly, yet still careful not to hurt me. I don't need to turn to know whose it is. Even through the rain and the vile stench around me, I can smell his calming presence.
"Bucky, let go," I say, voice low, careful not to turn.
"Fine." His hand releases without another word.
Before I can take a step away, his next words pierce through me like a knife: "I'll bring her here."
I spin around. His expression is a mix of pain and irritation, but more than anything, determination.
"Don't," I whisper.
"If you won't come back, we'll just have to come to you."
"Don't kid around, Bucky. I can't raise a child here. She's getting too old. She will understand this place now. And we? You can't come here. You have a conditional pardon, remember?" I shout over the rain.
"Yeah, I do. And look where I'm standing," he shouts back, arms jutting out.
"Wait, I thought you got clearance for this, like when you came with Sam and Zemo?"
"What clearance? I just do it and deal with the consequences when I get caught."
It takes a moment for his words to sink in, but once they do, I can't help laughing. An uncontrollable, contagious laugh spreads to him as well. We must look insane, laughing like crazy people in a downpour.
When I finally stop and we face each other, grins still on our faces:
"Bucky, I really can't. Please understand."
"Just try. That's all I ask. Come back and try." He takes my hand, fingers interlacing naturally.
"It won't work," I explain, resolve crumbling like the Berlin Wall.
"I think it will."
"And when it doesn't?" I question.
"We figure it out if we get there."
Damn it.
"I'm kind of horrible, you know," I say, voice breaking. I'm certain he can see I'm crying now.
He chuckles, pulling me into his arms. My face rests between his shoulder and neck. Those strong, deadly arms give me a welcoming embrace I don't deserve, but right now… I desperately need.
When I regain my composure, we're both drenched. I whisper, "What did you tell Mira?"
"Mom had work, and I have to go help her."
I pull away, confused. "The note?"
"I didn't let her see it."
He looks a little too proud. I punch him in the side.
"Ow," he exclaims.
"That didn't hurt. I held back," I say with a chuckle.
He rubs his side, teasing me as if he's hurt. I start walking again. "I have to get things cleared up here first. Coming?"
"I probably shouldn't see the things you do here. Meet you at the dock?"
"Fair. Meet me there in an hour."
He nods. We both head our separate ways. "You don't show up, and I'll just come find you again," he yells. I hold my thumb up as I walk off.
He's serious, kind of annoying, but I feel my face flush. It's nice to have someone who comes for me, even across the world.
Back at the manor, I move quickly to my bedroom, heart still doing a little happy dance. Anxiety lurks beneath, gnawing at me. After about three months and some mild convincing from Bucky, I'm ready to call it quits and go back.
I toss a duffle bag onto my bed, throwing clothes from the dresser into it. Before adding another shirt, I pause, staring at the bag. I flip it upside down over the drawers, dumping everything back in.
What the hell am I doing? I can't go back, right?
I flop onto the marble floor, head thumping against a pile of books. I lose myself in thought, eyes locked on the ceiling.
I flip over to see the small heating device with the black vial inside. If I leave now, I won't be able to do more research or figure out what it is. Not like I'm making much progress anyway.
God damn it!
I bury my face in my hands, perplexed at the impossible choice before me. I can't go back, whichever choice I make feels wrong.
The thought of waking up to Mira bouncing on my bed again, watching her grow, taking her to her first day of school, losing her first tooth… But I can watch all that from a distance, from here.
"Boss?" A voice interrupts. Roller stands in the doorway, energy drink in hand. He's addicted to those things.
"What is it, Roller?"
"Something you need to get off your mind? You didn't even hear me come in, which is not normal." He sits beside me on floor, legs crossed.
I never told Roller everything. Goliath probably knows the most about the Bucky, Mira situation. I doubt he tells anyone else, I don't make a habit of close associates with loose lips.
"I have to make an impossible choice," I mumble. For a few minutes, I want to be vulnerable.
"Yeah?" He sips his drink.
I let out a deep sigh rolling onto my back again, staring at the ceiling.
In Hydra, I never had a choice. In some twisted way, I adjusted to that. Now, when choices are thrust before me, I can't. Even with just two options, I feel like I'm drowning.
Honestly, I think I'd be better off swimming in an ocean then this, I swim well.
"You gonna fucking tell me or just sit here staring at nothing?" he asks.
"Stay or go?" I don't want to give more; that's the gist.
"Honesty?" he asks.
I sit up, turning to face him, mirroring his position. I nod.
He continues. "You'll never find the right answer. You just take the plunge wherever it feels right."
Despite his large build, scars, tattoos, and job, he's kind and surprisingly wise. Maybe a third of my age, but he has more life experience than me, at least in this department.
"What if I choose wrong?"
"You deal with it then. Figure it out. Life goes on despite all our fuck-ups."
Jesus. How is he this much smarter than me? I always took him for a military jarhead, singularly talented at torture.
He chugs the remainder of his drink before continuing. "Where does it feel right?"
"With my little girl." A smile creeps across my face.
"We got this. Go."
Both our heads swivel to the door, Goliath stands there. I soak in their words, knowing if I leave, the Power Broker could return and usurp control. In Madripoor, you face death around every corner, it's just reality.
Goliath steps closer. "You set up the network. It's running flawlessly. So much so that we even have dealings with the Ten Rings."
Huh. Even I didn't know that. Never talked to them, but I guess we made some deals I hadn't noticed.
"He's right," Roller adds. "The Crimson Queen's empire is strong enough to hold up now, even if the queen leaves the throne for a bit. Maybe just don't Blip again for five years."
I chuckle. He's right. They can call if shit goes down. I don't need to be here. The real question is… do I need to be with Bucky and Mira?
No. The real question is, what are we? I need answers before I go back, and I know where to start.
With resolve cemented, I grab my mission backpack from the closet. Prepacked, as always. Nothing else comes with me.
"Think you two can keep an eye on that thing?" I point to the heater in the corner.
"Um, yeah. What is it?" Roller asks, staring at the single vial.
"I don't know. Just keep it at that temperature constantly. I'll figure it out eventually."
Neither of them looks thrilled. I also neglect to mention that I'm pretty sure it's alien, alive, and most definitely deadly.
After a few silent stares, they nod like they have a choice.
I hand the journal to Goliath. "Find a scientist or someone to make heads or tails of this. Don't let him take that thing out, though."
"Okay."
With that odd goodbye, I head out to the docks to meet Bucky.