Eventually, we both lie back on the bed, silently staring at the ceiling. After an eternity of contemplation, he finally breaks the silence.
"We need to know more about the Stones," he concludes.
"Yeah, well, they got destroyed."
"True, but we just need somebody who knows about them, at least more than we do. And God, I'm hoping you're wrong."
I roll over to face him, giving him a confused look. "While I'm not thrilled with the idea, it also means we would understand her powers, and that she is basically a god."
"Yeah, but it also means she's a temporary container. One that will probably..." He pauses, his face contorted as the next words come out. "Die from the power of six Infinity Stones."
"What?" I shoot upright, looking down at him.
"Think about it. Steve told me when Thanos used the Stones, it crippled one of his arms. When Banner used them to blip us back, same thing. And when Stark used them…"
"He died," I murmur, the horrible reality dawning on me. My eyes burn with tears I refuse to shed. My stomach turns at the thought of what they could do to a little girl, to my little girl.
"Who do we talk to?" I demand, returning to pacing around the bedroom. "There has to be somebody."
I watch Bucky's eyes dart as if he's reading through a mental list of who's still alive and who would even talk to him.
"Let's just go talk to Rogers. He'll know, right?"
"We can't," Bucky says, releasing a deep sigh, his palm resting on his forehead as he leans into it.
"Why not!" I whisper-shout, careful not to scare Mira.
"It's not public knowledge, but he passed away. It was a few weeks after my pardon went through. I was told not to make it public; he was a hero. They'd rather people not know he's gone and feel unsafe."
I bite my lower lip, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth. I want to comfort him, I can see how painful this is. Steve was his brother in every way that mattered. But right now, I'm too worried about our child to focus on a death that happened months ago.
"What about Wanda herself?" I ask, desperate to refocus. Selfish?
Absolutely.
But I would burn the world for my baby.
"Never really knew her well, and I have no clue where to find her," he replies.
"Banner?"
"No clue where he is."
"Okay, let's make this easier. Who do you know that you can contact from the Avengers?"
He shrugs. "Sam."
"He's not going to be helpful," I groan. "What about the Wakandans?"
"They're dealing with issues of their own, and I was warned not to contact them for a while," he says, pinching the bridge of his nose.
My mind rattles through everyone in Madripoor, but none of them know two shits about Infinity Stones. Even my clients barely understand the alien tech I sell them.
We're out of options.
"There is someone," Bucky says slowly. "Maybe."
My head snaps back to him, excitement sparking. "Who?"
"This guy I met back in Germany when Steve and I were going after Zemo. Steve said he helped with the whole time-heist thing to get the Stones and fix everything. He's probably the one with the most information, he studied them to pull it off and probably will be the easiest one to find."
"Great. Name?"
"Ant-guy or something. He shrinks and grows to crazy sizes."
"Ant-Man?"
"How do you know him?"
"He's on the news, Bucky. A lot. Kind of hard not to get footage of a giant in a red suit running through cities," I reply sarcastically as I pull out my phone and text Echo.
I have now proudly learned how to text, and I will admit, it's easy. Especially on this smartphone they got me.
I ask her to find his identity and location.
She responds almost instantly.
'Want me to put a hit out on him?'
'No, just need location. Keep discrete.'
'Tracking an avenger won't be easy.'
I chuckle at her response and bait her as I usually do.
'If you can't do it just say so, maybe Tran can.'
'Excuse you boss Lady! I trained that little shit! I'll find him and let you know."
As usual, she's easy to provoke. Of course, she'll ask for a pretty penny, but I'm not worried about it.
"Do I want to know what that was?" Bucky asks, eyeing my phone.
"No, but we'll have the information soon."
"Okay."
I sit back down beside him. The room is silent. I realize I never turned on the bedroom light, so we're sitting in the dark, lit only by the dull yellow glow of streetlights casting through the window.
The sound of cars splashing through puddles and rain tapping against the glass fills the quiet.
"Dinner?" Bucky finally says.
"Yup. I'll get Mira."