After what seems like forever of staring at the streets and taking in the shocking reality before us. Bucky shifts the trash cans back to hide us behind, don't need anyone calling the police on the two crazy people in the alley bleeding everywhere.
He settles in next to me, and we stay like this in silence. Our minds reeling as my body heals slowly but surely.
When the sun starts to set and the area grows cold and dark, I'm finally healed to move. Still some internal pain, but nothing I can't ignore. I help Bucky up since he does not get to heal and has just been sitting there quietly in pain all this time.
I check his shoulder relieved to find it's only dislocated, he stays silently in his almost shell shocked state as I push it back into the socket. I gather Mira back up into my arms, glancing between us I realize without a doubt we can't just go waltzing around, we're both splattered in blood and torn future clothes.
"How's your leg?" I whisper.
He nods in silence, putting a little pressure on it and quickly shifting off the weight as his face scrunches in pain.
I glance above at the night sky, and the brick buildings around us. There's a ladder for the fire escape dangling but these buildings aren't so tall we can't hop up, and frankly I have a feeling that will be easier on us both.
"Think you can make it up with my help." I gesture to the roof of the nearby building, he nods again in silence, wrapping his left arm around my shoulder, together we leap up with a grunt barely making it to the ledge. I fall to my knees, exhausted by the brief movement, Bucky is hunching forward looking about as well off as me. Probably worse though, his injuries won't heal like mine, despite the fact that he has now stopped bleeding there is still probably some internal injuries we need to get checked out.
Not to mention after laying in garbage all day we all smell like shit, are dehydrated and hungry.
"We need to find somewhere to hideout, at least until we can get our bearings."
"Yeah, but where?"
We both share a look, as if understanding one another's first instinct to seek out the ones we've left behind here. The ones who think of us as long dead, our families.
But neither of us speak the words, knowing that no good can come of them seeing us, of the monsters we become, the cruel future that awaits.
"Take Mira for a little bit and hang here, I'll try to scout out a place for us in the area." I order.
With a loud grunt Bucky is up, "I can do it."
Clearly on uneasy legs, his face a little paler then it should be from blood loss, "No way, your about two seconds away from collapsing, I'll be back in a few minutes don't worry."
Without waiting for him to argue I gently force Mira's unconscious tiny body into his one good arm and scurry off.
Thankfully it doesn't take me long to find a hotel a few buildings down, I peak in a few windows until I find an empty room. With some difficulty I manage to get the window up without breaking it and slip through into the room, doing a quick search ensuring no guests are using the room.
I resist the urge to stop and take in to much of the setting, or the streets around me. Afraid the nostalgia will swallow me whole. In no time I get Mira and Bucky into the room through that very same open window, though I hadn't accounted for Bucky's wide, 6 foot body when I chose the window as the entry point. So it definitely took a minute to get him in and he did have to take off his vibranium arm to fit those wide shoulders of his through, for once I'm grateful for the detachable arm.
I tuck Mira into the bed, and we make quick work of getting cleaned up, Bucky cleans his cuts, bandaging them with torn bits of his clothes and towels as best he can. I shower off my own blood that now stains my skin, trying not to remember the disturbing feeling of having an arm impaled through me just hours ago.
When I return to the room Bucky is staring out the window, taking in the city. I join him, his arm comes to wrap around my waist pulling me into him. I don't know if its him who needs my warmth or him sensing that I need his. But either way, I'm grateful for it.
"This must be the time stone." I whisper.
He grunts in a agreement as we take in the sight of a home we once now, that now feels far to foreign.