A/N: I had a couple scenes viciously attack me and demand to be written that didn't fit in the expendable narrative, so here they are.
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fallout
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The docs had cleared me for light duty. Assuring me that everything looked good both with my recovery and the… and the baby. Healthy and growing as expected in these early stages.
My unexpected condition not widely known for obvious reasons. Only those who absolutely needed to know knew. As well as those who had figured it out. The head wound had healed into a rakish scar where no hair grew so I just kept that side short, showing off the reminder that I'd damn near died on that battlefield. Thor had visited twice, both times complimenting the scar and requesting that I tell the tale so that he could share it with other warriors, assuring me that when the day came I would be seated at the great table in Valhalla, which I'd mentally scoffed at. Then he introduced me to Brunnhilde, an actual honest to god Valkyrie and his words which I thought to be placating more than anything suddenly carried a weight I hadn't expected.
I'd finally gotten to meet Dr. Banner, who had to be the kindest, most gentle man I had ever met in my life. To know that he also contained all the rage and anger of the Hulk amazed me. He had been brought in to consult on my current unique condition. He'd been unfailingly polite given he was not that kind of doctor, but once I'd informed the docs exactly who the father was a whole new slew of potential issues had come to light.
As far as anyone knew no one had gotten pregnant by a super soldier before. Add in the fact that my situation had been odd from the get-go… well, they started inventing tests first to verify that, yes, Steve Rogers was indeed the father, and then to try to discover if the properties of the serum had carried through to the human to be. Most of those tests would need to wait until the baby was bigger as they would be unavoidably invasive.
They seemed far more worried about the baby than the woman who carried it.
I firmly believed I had gone insane. Those memories of other lives, other mes, alternate histories and events that I had hoped would fade as I recovered from the concussion only became more clear and settled into my bones as being just as real as the track I knew to be my reality. Which, near as I could tell had been knocked off its original track ever so slightly.
I had read the reports a few of them had managed to give detailing the world and universe-spanning battle with Thanos, which suggested that he had played with time, tried to stop the Avengers by making certain they never existed. Including one timeline where Steve had been found in the wreck of Red Skull's Valkyrie before it had been swallowed by the ice. I knew that one well thanks to history books and the fact that he was a fucking immortal. He'd gone on to a happily ever after with Peggy by his side. No children, but a damn good life. She had aged, while he hadn't. Hydra hadn't rebuilt itself within SHIELD. The SSR never changing its name and had still been in service when the Chitauri arrived in New York.
That's when Captain America had returned to the spotlight, not looking a day older than when he'd retired after WWII. From there forward that history followed a path similar to the current one, with him still dying at the hands of Thanos to save the universe.
Many of them ended at the same point. Some choice made that left Thanos unable to control the timeline he had tried to rewrite.
The one it had settled into the one I had woken up in, just slightly different from the one I felt certain I belonged in.
I paced about the suite, wearing one of Steve's tees, a pair of jeans and not much else. I raked my hands through my hair, trying to sort out the realities the constantly pressured me for attention. When asked a question I would need to sort through dozens of potentials before choosing what I hoped to be the right answer. Clint had logged my slow responses to "baby brain" but I had seen the concern grow day by day.
He'd been nothing but understanding and supportive. I'd been grateful beyond measure especially once I'd learned that he not only had a family, but they'd been a casualty of the war with Thanos. His reality dumped on its side in the most final manner possible. He'd lost everything and had nothing left but the family he had made here.
He'd taken up residence in one of the many suites and rarely left these days.
I had tried to explain to a couple of the head shrinking docs on staff what had been going on in my head, but they had logged it off to battle trauma or a side effect of the concussion. I didn't know if they simply didn't understand or were, far more likely, total idiots.
"You have guests approaching the door, should I send them away?" Ares had moved in as well, though only my suite and for training so far. FRIDAY still handled the majority of the day to day human organization. She had been to war, but in the end, she had been designed as a butler program, not like Ares who lived for the battle.
"Who is it?"
"Wilson and Barnes."
I wondered what had brought Bucky to the compound. He'd taken my offer of living in the converted warehouse apartment, especially when he'd learned its location fell within his old stomping grounds of Brooklyn. We spoke often by one means or another and he seemed to be doing well and adjusting to his new lease on life.
"Let 'em in."
I didn't stop my pacing other than to acknowledge their arrival when they came in the door. Sam looked worried. Bucky looked enigmatic as usual. He could convey a ton of emotion with his eyes alone, but the Winter Soldier still lurked behind those baby blues and he had that mask firmly in place today.
"Hey, kiddo, heard they cleared you for duty."
"Light duty," I reiterated, not wanting him to get it into his head that I'd be going out on any ops in the near future. I was reasonably certain Sam had been told about my condition, but not Bucky. Least I hadn't told either of them and I had no idea where Hill and the sometimes here but mostly not Fury had placed them in the hierarchy. Steve and Tony had been the leaders - Steve tactical, Tony R&D - but no decision had been made about who would fill those roles. With the Accords being reconsidered in the wake of Thanos' visit no one had been designated team leader. Hill still ran the day to day operations of the Avengers. Pepper Potts still ran Stark Industries. The only ops these days involving recovery. Large swathes of the planet had been knocked back to the stone age. It might take years before some areas were even livable again.
It was an organizational nightmare to put it simply and Hill had already approached me about utilizing the Expendables to assist. I'd put it to a vote, those that had recovered enough to get back to work and received a unanimous yay. They'd been brought in assigned rooms and those cleared for duty put to work with along with the remaining Avengers.
Sam, Clint, and Nat currently played supervisory roles more than anything for the moment. Which made sense. None of us had walked away unscathed and we all needed time to heal even if the wounds were far more mental and emotional than physical.
I suddenly needed to get out of the suite. Needed to be away from here and all the memories; three sets now thanks to my mind deciding to play tricks on me. Steve and I had had our problems, mostly due to miscommunication than anything of real substance. Me knowing it couldn't be forever and him sometimes being too focused on the work and forgetting how to just be people with each other. We had worked through it and come out the other side stronger.
We'd had plans for the future. Foolish ones perhaps in light of exactly how dangerous our lives could be. But we'd had them anyway. Had hope.
And now… "Oh god, what the fuck am I going to do?" My voice cracked, the whole of my current untenable reality crashing down on my shoulders like an avalanche. I couldn't do this. Not without him.
I wrapped my arms around my abdomen, holding close the only remaining connection I had to him. I met Bucky's concerned gaze. "I can't do this," I whispered hoarsely, hot tears I had refused to submit to previously pricking at my eyes until they overflowed and ran down my cheeks. "I can't fucking do this."
The two men stared at me in shock and surprise as I spun about and headed for the kitchen. I went to cabinet reserved for the few bottles of hard liquor we'd kept on hand, grabbed the vodka, twisted off the top and took a long swig.
Sam squawked, "What the hell, girl."
I'd just lifted the bottle to my lips a second time, fully intending to drown my sorrows, when Sam pulled it from my grip, I growled, "Damn it, Wilson, gimme that back."
"No."
I reached for another bottle only to have him grab me by the arm and drag me out of reach.
Bucky's was suddenly there, looming over Sam with that flat dangerous expression on his face. "Let her go."
"Barnes, you don't-"
Bucky reached out with his cybernetic arm and with all due caution pried Sam's hand from my arm. "If she wants to drown her sorrows with alcohol let her. I wish I could join her."
Sam sputtered for a long moment then shouted at full volume, "She's pregnant, you idiot. With your best friend's kid."
Bucky went frighteningly still that heavy gaze turning to me instead.
Convinced it had to be a false memory that I'd gotten stuck in because how else could it be true, I reached for another bottle only to have Bucky's warm calloused hand rest atop mine.
"Is that true?" The hope in his voice a living thing that almost drove away the ache and disbelief away.
"No."
"What? Yes. They confirmed it when she transferred to the Compound," Sam explained to Bucky shooting me a look that screamed betrayal.
"No," I shouted, slamming the cabinet door hard enough to crack the frame when it impacted it. "I can't be."
Bucky tilted his head and watched me with care. "Why not?"
I shook my head. "You wouldn't believe me."
"I will."
And he seemed so reasonable, so goddamned willing to listen that I told him.
"We used a fucking condom. I had an implant. Yet when I woke up it was gone and I was a confused as fuck single parent to be." Bucky glanced over at Sam who stood there wide-eyed. "You know Steve can't have kids, not with a mortal anyway."
"In theory," Sam pointed out.
I gave a reluctant nod of agreement at his modifier. "Doesn't change the facts."
"Like what?" Bucky asked, keeping his tone calm and quiet as if knowing I could spook again at any moment.
"Like being two weeks further along than should be possible."
Sam nodded slowly, then my words apparently sank in. "Wait. What?"
"I'm eight weeks along at a best guess by the most expensive and accurate machines Stark can build. It's not possible." I'd had a hard time wrapping my mind around that one. I should have been all of days pregnant when they'd discovered it at the hospital. Not weeks.
"Why not?" Sam questioned.
I glared at him, wanting more to drink just to get through this awkward discussion. "Because I only had sex with Steve the night before the battle. Fuck, hours before."
Bucky snorted at my phrasing. "Wait, I thought Myla met up with you a couple weeks before that fight?" he questioned Sam. "Uh, something about a weapons deal he wanted to break up."
Sam nodded in agreement. "Myla, maybe you don't remember because of the head injury."
I shook my head. "No. Or yes. Or both really." I rubbed my forehead his words having brought that other memory to the fore, another bit of my history unceremoniously rewritten. Not having a clue how to explain what was going on in my head I growled softly under my breath. "I think I'm broken," I confessed.
Bucky set a hand on my back and steered me back to the living room, encouraging me to sit down. Sam tag teamed me by bringing a glass of water and tissues. I hadn't even realized I'd still been crying. Sam sat down kitty-corner from me while Bucky cut the imposing figure, arms crossed and gazing down at me with a blank look.
"Kiddo, talk to me."
"Why? So you can say it's just PTSD too?" The frustration must have been evident in my voice.
"Shit, is that what the docs have been telling you?"
I nodded, miserable and lost.
Sam turned to Bucky. "My's got a scary-ass memory. So if she says she remembers something…"
"She does," Bucky finished. "So what do you remember?"
"Lives. Different versions of this timeline. At least a dozen of them. They all pretty much converge at a moment that occurred while I was unconscious so I can't pinpoint it exactly."
"Then how do you know that particular one is the right one?"
"I just do. This reality, this timeline changed while I was out of it. And now I'm pregnant and Steve's gone and I don't know if I've gone insane or am just living some weird dream while in a coma." I had considered and rejected that option more than a few times. Not that I would have any way of knowing which would be the truth if my mind was simply creating a reality for me to live in. Made sense that details would be off and that the impossible could come to pass. Given I'd gone from vomiting from a concussion to morning sickness I had to admit this one felt damn real.
They exchanged a look. "Are you sure?" Bucky asked.
"As I can be," I told him. "Why does it matter?" I still didn't have Steve.
Sam pushed to his feet. "Come on, there's someone you need to meet."
. . .
We went to New York. The quinjet landed at a SHIELD facility that also provided a driver for us. All the big boys playing nice together for the time being. We drove through the traffic to arrive a gorgeous building on Bleecker St.
Sam tapped on the glass, which lowered instantly. "He expecting us?"
The driver shrugged. "Probably."
The driver left us on the curb, Bucky's hand on my back. I hadn't bothered to change, Steve's shirt providing a mix of comfort and pain that forced me to connect with the here and now. Sam trotted up the steps, lifted his hand to knock on a door that swung open under seemingly its own power. I tipped my head up to examine the building in detail.
"Oh, this is the Kamar-Taj."
Sam snapped his head about. "How do you know that?"
"Eye of Agamotto. You think I stopped my research there? Just didn't realize they had a location in New York."
"Good to know our secret society can still keep some secrets."
The newcomer had a resonant voice, dark hair with silver at the temples and dressed like an old-school stage magician.
"Sorry, she's all kinds of trouble," Sam informed the man.
"And in more than a little of it herself, I see." He swung both doors wide. "Please come in."
Sam led the way, Bucky sticking close beside me, wary of everything about him, but not of the man.
"You guys know him?"
They both nodded. "Fought with him. Without him, we might have lost a lot more."
"Perhaps. Perhaps not. This is the path we are on now for good or ill." He gestured towards the seats in what could only be a drawing room. There were cases with esoteric items in them, books by the score, furniture hundreds of years old and an odd sense of peace permeated the air. "Please sit. You have questions."
"And what makes you think you have answers?" I commented, keeping the snark mostly inside. The order he followed believed in magic, real magic, but I had no personal experience of it. No, I didn't assume they had been taking the good drugs, not after everything I had seen during my comparatively short life. Magic being real would be the least surprising of all.
He approached me, hand held out, the scars across his fingers visible as was the slight tremor. "May I?"
I nodded and he took my hand into his warm ones. "Myla, I am Doctor Stephen Strange, Master of the Mystic Arts and this Sanctum."
I recognized the name but didn't even try to pull up from where, who knew how many different versions of him I would get. He did something and for the first time in weeks, my mind settled into one place, one reality, one time stream. it still didn't feel quite right, but at least the overlapping ripples no longer left me freefalling in a void of loss and confusion.
Clearheaded, I gave him a nod. "Thank you," I think I sounded a touch stunned.
"Don't thank me yet." He turned to Sam, "You were right to bring her here, but this might take some time to deal with."
"If you are willing to help, then take as much time as you need, but…"
"But?"
"We won't be leaving without her," Bucky responded.
I leaned over to see around Strange impressed by the warning look on Bucky's face.
"I have no intention of harming her or the child she carries in any way."
"For fuck's sake do I have pregnant tattooed on my forehead or something?"
"No, I read your aura, which is a bit of a jumbled mess by the way." He did something with his hands, golden glowing light forming an intricate pattern in front of him. "You are not insane, by the way." He tipped his head, seeing something in the light that I didn't. "Enhanced?" he questioned.
I shook my head. "No, brain trauma that resulted in a rewiring of my neural functioning. Eidetic memory, both knowledge and physical."
"So you learn quickly and never forget."
"Quickly? Show her something once and she's got it down. And now she's saying she remembers other timelines. I might not understand, but I don't doubt her."
"I can't say I'm surprised. Thanos altered the timeline at least a dozen times before we retrieved the Time Stone. The vast majority of those on the planet will have no idea what happened. Maybe a weird sense of deja vu, but no more than that," Strange explained in a matter of fact tone. "You, on the other hand, remember all of them, don't you?"
I nodded. Desperately thankful that someone not only believed me but could possibly help. "Can you make them go away?"
He shook his head. "I cannot, but I can make certain you come to this one as your default setting, for want of a better term."
"Oh fuck no, this one's wrong."
He raised a single eyebrow. "Why do you say that?"
" 'Cause she's remembering events we were both there for differently," Sam explained when I found my tongue unable to articulate a single word.
"Well, that's odd," Strange admitted. "Are you certain the timeline you are focusing on is the correct one?"
I sighed heavily. "No. But I'm certain it's the right one for me. I feel like everything slipped past me while I stood still. Then somehow rewound before moving forward again. In that overlap of the rewind and restart, things changed. Each equally real, but only one mine." I threw up my hands and stalked towards the nearest window to stare out at the slow rush of humanity moving by. They had no clue. Could just go about their lives as if nothing had interrupted their reality.
I heard Strange move, then a quiet discussion ensued between the three men. I could have chosen to overhear, but didn't care what they specifically said. Not really. I'd gone and fallen into the abyss of insanity, they just needed to figure out how to deal with it. I'd guess drugs except for the potential supersoldier baby I carried. They'd lock me in my suite, keep me content enough and make certain I could do no harm to myself or others and then take away my baby. Take from me all I had left of Steve.
I'd run before I let that happen. Find a place where no one would care about the eccentric pregnant lady who had to spend time figuring out which reality she was in today before making every decision.
Strange returned then, setting a hand on my shoulder to get my attention. "I need to make a call. I'm having tea and food brought up for you. Please stay on this floor if you would."
"Don't trust us?" Bucky asked.
Strange shook his head. "Some of the areas are dangerous if you don't take proper precautions. There's nothing on this floor that can do you any harm."
Sam grunted. "Having seen what you can do in a fight I'll take your word for it. We'll behave."
Strange gave me an appraising look.
"What? I have the feeling that even if I wanted to do something stupid you wouldn't let me."
He leaned in, smelling of mysteries and spices. My memory of him thankfully limited, only the little I had heard on the news and read online after his accident. Still, his alternate lives cascaded through mine. The differences minor for the most part, in all but one of them he lost the use of his hands and his vaunted career. Different car, different road, a different path that still ended at that blank spot in my memory. I staggered back a step, the images refusing to stop this time.
"Your gift is exceedingly powerful."
I forced myself to meet his eyes. "Gift? You make it seem as if I should thankful I'm being driven insane."
"Kiddo, he's trying to help," Sam reminded sounding patronizing to my ears.
"So far all he's done is offer us tea and scones." No, I hadn't reached the cranky portion of my day. I wanted to blame the hormones, and that might have been part of it, but even though healthy, I had slipped down to the end of my rope. I had yet to really mourn the loss, I'd been too busy recovering from my own injuries and dealing with my personal reality to face the grief.
Strange actually grinned. "Oh, you're sassy. I like that." He gently grasped my arm. "Please, sit, I'll be back as quickly as I can."
"Why does it matter?" I questioned.
"Because you can see into the multiverse, if only a small portion of it, we know of few mortals who can do that." He took my hand, his fingers rubbing the back of mine, the tremors barely noticeable.
"You didn't lose your hand coordination in one of them," I informed him, almost regretting the words as I spoke them aloud.
"I know, and yet I still chose this path in the end," he told me at just above a whisper his breath hot against my ear.
I stared up at him in shock. "You see them?" I asked, the words barely making a sound, hoping against hope he wasn't saying those words just to appease me in this moment.
He shook his head. "I only see the one Thanos created and the one I reset the universe to. You see far more than that."
"I remember far more than anyone should."
He nodded solemnly. I envy you for that. But I also understand how difficult it must be making your life. I'll be back as quick as I can."
A squeeze of my shoulder and he swept out of the room, the cloak he wore seeming to billow about him, making his departure far more dramatic than necessary. Upon his exit, a young woman entered, clothes similar, but markedly younger in age, carrying a tray laden with goodies. I smelled coffee as opposed to the tea Strange had threatened us with and my stomach growled at the scent. I had not been eating all that well even once the effects of the concussion had eased.
She set the tray on the coffee table in the center of the room, poured three cups of coffee and then left without saying a word.
"Kiddo?" Sam prompted even as he added cream and sugar to the cup he'd claimed as his own.
"Not hungry," I mumbled, turning away to look back out the window. I doubted for an instant he'd let me get away with that, so when I felt a presence beside me I expected Sam.
"Tired?"
I held the twitch inside, shocked it had been Bucky and not Sam to approach me. "Not really. Just... I miss him so fucking much."
The tears I'd given into earlier returned, making me feel like an idiot but he didn't seem to mind.
He set a hand on my upper back. "Me too. I know I haven't been around as much as I should but I needed some time to figure things out, I guess." His fingers gently rubbed up and down, the gesture meant to comfort but it instead pulled up memories of Steve doing the exact same thing and that did not help with the ever-deepening hole in my heart. I shifted away, out of his reach and proceeded to be flooded with guilt by the pain that appeared in his eyes for an instant before he got control of his emotions.
"Sorry," I muttered.
He shook his head. "Don't be. I don't mean to be so familiar, but he wanted me to make certain you were okay."
I wiped at the tears. "Of course he did. Asked you to watch over me and protect me."
He dipped his head down by way of agreement. "It's old-fashioned I know."
"Not for you, it isn't. Not for him. Just don't treat me like some fragile china doll and we'll be fine." I liked Bucky even without not knowing him personally. Steve had told me so much about him, including the hard ones. The ones involving the Winter Soldier. He'd given me full access to all the files so that I would understand. So that when I met Bucky, which Steve had always intended for me to do, I would understand that he had changed. The Hydra programming unavoidably changing him. And yet whatever they'd managed in Wakanda, he'd found far more of his old self, able to shed the programming that made him the Soldier even though he retained the skills and memories. We'd stayed in contact since the funeral, but I'd avoided seeing him in person simply because it hurt too damn much.
And even though I knew he hurt too, I'd forgotten that he hurt too.
"Bucky, I-"
He shut me up by pulling me into a hug that I hadn't even realized I needed. "What the hell am I going to do." I sounded whiny even to my ears and wanted to believe that I'd earned it after everything, but I hadn't seen any of them getting all misty-eyed over Steve's death.
Then again I hadn't exactly been hanging around with them for the last month. For all I knew, they'd spent every free moment in their cups in a vain attempt to drown sorrows that simply couldn't be. I know I'd wanted to. They'd been working, integrating the new trainees and the Expendables back into the fold. I'd been supervising my teams, but minimally. Dr. Cho or Bruce would admonish me anytime I tried to do more than reading reports, which is why I'd been doing anything more vigorous like working out, on the sly. That meant alone.
I had grown tired of being alone.
Steve was gone. Never to know of this impossible miracle. Never to know his child. Never to have that normal life he'd so longed for. "How am I supposed to do this alone?" I questioned of the very fabric of the universe itself, knowing fucking well there would be no answer.
Bucky pulled away from me, the sadness replaced with disbelief. "Alone? What makes you think you'll be alone?"
Sam magically appeared then, the affront there for anyone to see. "What the hell are you talking about, girl? You ain't gonna be alone. We'll-"
"I haven't seen you in over a week," I snapped at him. "Don't you dare tell me I haven't been alone. That I won't be alone. I'll be the one sitting by myself in the suite while all of you go off to save the day. I stopped being important the moment they all found out who the father is." I shrugged out of Bucky's hold, not that he'd been doing more than making contact with my arms, thankfully, since if he didn't want me to move I wouldn't be able to.
"This was a bad idea." The need to run swept over me. Not in fear, not really, more concern that my life, that my child's life would never be their own if I stayed.
Bucky must have seen the plan I quickly slapped together that would permit me to get out of the building with minimal effort as he shifted with me, blocking my initial escape route. "No."
"No, what?" I asked in exasperation as I searched for other options that did not involve throwing myself out the window, though I kept that one on the table as a backup plan.
"No, you are not going to run. No, you will not have to do this alone. If no one else I will be there for you. Till the end of the line."
I sneered, "Of course, because of your duty to him. I don't want that. Don't want to force anyone into babysitting me for the next eight months or potentially eighteen years."
"Force? Myla, what is going on in your head right now?" Sam seemed flabbergasted that at what I'd practically screamed at them.
"Well, all of you have made it abundantly clear I'm useless in this condition and that the miracle baby is far more important than me."
The men exchanged a worried look. "Myla, you were literally just cleared for duty this morning," Sam reminded in a soft voice as if afraid I would bolt. "I can promise you that while we're taking the baby into consideration there's no chance we're not going to put you back to work. You should see the laundry list of items I have waiting for you once we've gotten this straightened out."
I blinked. "Really?" No one had said a damn thing to me.
He managed a smile. "Yes, really. We didn't want you stressing over your to-do list while recovering is all. Besides, you had enough to do contacting the families of those you lost."
I'd spent nearly two weeks personally calling each and every one of them. I would have gone in person, but the docs had refused to clear me for any sort of serious travel. My XOs had handled returning any gear or belongings to the next of kin. Thankfully, sad as it might have been, most of my people weren't married or in serious relationships, so it had been to parents and siblings we'd broken the news. Most understandably saddened by the loss, while still proud their child had been part of the reason the Earth still spun on its tilted axis.
"Oh shit," I muttered, the blood draining from my face and making me momentarily dizzy with the speed of it.
"Myla?" Bucky questioned, the concern evident in his eyes alone.
"How am I gonna tell my family? They don't even know I was dating Steve."
Sam snickered. "Really? That's all you're worried about?"
I glared at him. "You do remember who my family is right? Damn straight I'm terrified."
Bucky gave Sam a confused glance. "What? Are they Rockefeller's or something?"
"Or something would be accurate. Are you telling me you care?" Sam snarked and not inaccurately at that. My family a weird combo of one percenters and down to earth working folk. About a quarter of us in the last few generations had gone into the military in one form or another, so my choice hadn't been all that unusual. Still, given my smarts, they had hoped for something more prestigious. Research scientist, scholar, startup genius, something in one of the fields I'd acquired a Ph.D. in. I'd wanted more than that. More than an ivory tower my mother reveled in.
And I'd found it when I'd been recruited by SHIELD.
And look where that had gotten me.
I shoved away from Bucky and flopped gracelessly into the first overstuffed chair I came across. I didn't want this, not now, but how could I walk away from the hope it had given me? "We never even had the kid discussion since we'd both thought it was a moot point. We still took precautions, but..." I trailed off, not wanting to continue babbling like the idiot I currently felt like.
"He would have been thrilled," Bucky stated unequivocally and I knew he was right. Steve had father material practically stamped in his stronger than average bones.
"Then he should be here, damn it." I twisted around to look up at them. "Why can't we go back and save him? Can't we save him?" I pleaded, not wanting to contemplate the world spinning on without Steve Rogers on it.
"I could, but the cost would be great," Dr. Strange stated as he returned with a well-timed flourish.
"And? I'll pay it," I told him, willing to give up my life if necessary if it meant Steve survived.
He raised an eyebrow at me as if surprised I meant the words.
"No. Fuck no. You and your need to save him, it'll get you killed one day," Sam groused.
Bucky smirked. "I think that's kinda the point." Sam glared at him.
"Captain Rogers made his sacrifice to save all of us, the cost to undo that would be commensurate," Strange explained in a completely flat tone of voice, wanting me to understand the seriousness of making such a drastic change.
"Are you saying it could actually be done?" I questioned given how long it had been since he'd... given everything to defeat Thanos.
Strange frowned before answering. "Technically, yes."
"Don't give her false hope," a new voice stated in an admonishing sneer. "The timeline has been altered too much as it stands. Going back at this point..." He shook his head. "I would have hoped you would have learned that the Eye is not a toy by now."
"Myla, I want you to meet Wong, Librarian of the Kamar-Taj."
Wong grunted, clearly not pleased with that description.
"What? You want me to memorize another library? I'm good for more than that." The complaint mostly facetious and to cover the fact I had no idea where this meeting would end up.
Wong cast Strange a sideways glance. "Can she do that?"
Strange shrugged.
"She can," Sam explained. "Could probably dump all the data into a computer thanks to Stark's modified BARF tech. Preserve it for... ever I guess."
Strange got this strange look in his eyes at that suggestion. "That... that might actually work."
I rubbed my forehead. "How about asking if I want to before you start making your plans?" I groused.
"No, not for that, for your memories," Wong explained.
"Well, that would be interesting, but I don't see how it would be useful, they'd still be stuck in my head."
Wong inclined his head to acknowledge my point. "Which is why I am here." He strode forward, grabbed a chair and set in down directly in front of me. Settling into it with care. "Can you tell me where your timeline and the current one diverge?"
"Uh, maybe?" I closed my eyes and picked my way through the two closest versions of my life. Childhood, the same. Teen years with college and such the same, or differences so minor I failed to spot them. But then in spring of 2012 the road split, the two paths still similar, but different enough for me to see the changes. The butterfly effect buried in my life.
I opened my eyes to see all four men hovering over me with matching worried looks. Well, except for Wong who had the same slightly bored look on his face as he'd had when I'd closed my eyes. "What?"
Sam glanced at his watch. "It's been close to an hour, we were getting worried."
"She had two lifetimes to review, did you expect it to be instantaneous?" Wong reminded, causing me to chuckle.
"Did you find the divergence?" Bucky asked, handing me a cup of coffee, which I sipped at, only slightly surprised he'd gotten the cream and sugar just the way I liked it.
"The Incident in New York. I mean it didn't change my personal choices, but how it played out was noticeably different. Please keep in mind I watched it on TV like most of the country, but news reports vary, information released after is different. Most of it seems small but still different."
The men exchanged an enigmatic look.
"I take it that was a key point in the battle with Thanos?"
"You could say that," Bucky muttered running a hand through his long hair.
"Clearly this is the point of divergence for you. Though I still don't fully understand why you remember the various time streams." Strange looked to Wong for guidance.
He shrugged. "Unless this version of her is enhanced in a way her original was not, which there will be no way to discover, she should remember no more than what she lived."
"But can you help her?" Sam asked sounding plaintive.
Wong nodded. "You will still remember all of them, the two most similar ones will probably remain, but we should be able to ease the confusion and disassociation with this reality to a minimal level." He tipped his head and narrowed his eyes while watching me. "A suggestion?"
"Sure, since you're going to help me not feel insane."
He gave me a quick grin, little more than a flash of his teeth and a crinkle of the skin by his eyes. "Use Stark's tech to record your various memories, it might very well prove useful in the future."
"Can I have access to your library?" I countered with, curious beyond measure at the thought of real magic and the books that taught one how to use it.
Wong glanced up at Strange who gave a tiny nod. "That would be acceptable." He reached out and set his hand on one of mine, patting it in an almost perfunctory manner. "I will need to do some research but can meet you here tomorrow to begin our work if you like."
I held in the sigh. "As I have nothing better to do, that's fine."
"Good." Wong got to his feet, then to Strange, "I'll let you know what time I'll arrive, she should be here before then."
"Of course, I'll arrange everything," Strange assured.
Without another word Wong stood and walked from the room. I wanted to ask where he intended to go but decided it wasn't really all that important.
I glanced down at my ensemble. I hadn't exactly planned for an overnight trip when we'd left the Compound. Granted, I could buy whatever I needed with little issue, I just would rather have packed an overnight bag, or even grabbed my go bag than to show up tomorrow in the same clothes I wore now. Okay, maybe in Steve's shirt, but clean underwear would be preferable. "Would it be worth flying back to the Compound?" I asked of Sam.
Strange shook his head. "If I know Wong he'll want you back here bright and early our time. Better to remain nearby even if it is a bit of an inconvenience."
"And I have to get back," Sam told me. "Hill has left me three messages so far."
"Oof. Call her. Tell her you'll be back ASAP. My credit card works perfectly well for both clothes and a hotel room," I assured him. Might as well spoil myself a little before Hill put me back to work. "I'll be fine."
"You'll stay with me."
I snapped my head about to see Bucky watching me with a no-nonsense set to his jaw. He would not be taking no for an answer.
"Bucky-"
"There's plenty of space and... and I'd appreciate the company."
Strange clapped his hands together. "That's settled then. Shall we exchange numbers so that I can let you know when to arrive?"
I nodded, not thrilled that the decision had been made for me. I gave him my number and he shot me a text so that I had his. Minutes later we stood on the sidewalk outside the manse waiting for a pair of rides. SHIELD for Sam, Lyft for me and Bucky.
"I'll need to pick up some necessities," I told him plucking at the shirt I wore.
He nodded. "I'll need to pick up food if you want something other than take out."
I gave him a grin. "Take out is fine, I haven't had a decent slice in ages." Last time had been when Steve and I had signed the papers on the place I was about to spend the night in for the first time.
Without him.
Suddenly I knew I could not do this.
Bucky must have seen my hesitation. "We'll hit the stores first. See if the driver is willing to hang while we shop."
I nodded, not really absorbing the meaning of his words. I wondered idly if the condo with the view of Central Park was being used right now. "Uh, I can hire a driver for us if need be. My family has a company on retainer."
Sam snorted. "I keep forgetting you have money. Maybe I should hit you up the next time I need new wheels." His request facetious of course.
"And that is probably why she didn't tell anyone," Bucky pointed out and not wrongly.
I hadn't grown up a spoiled brat. I'd worked hard for everything I'd achieved. I simply hadn't worried about my next meal, or replacing worn out shoes or the like. My parents both worked even though they had no need to. Yes, they did the high end set party circuit as a matter of course, as did several of my siblings, but not a single one lived solely by that life.
"I'm aware of that," Sam snarked at Bucky who sighed softly. He leaned over to whisper in my ear. "Lotus. I like the way they move."
I managed a smile that he seemed to accept as being real, yet I remained unsettled, an odd churning in my gut that signaled neither hunger nor the return of the little I had eaten today. Just an uneasiness that made me want to run and hide.
Sam's ride appeared then and he gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before climbing into the car and disappearing down the street.
"Myla, you okay?" Bucky asked me, checking his phone to see how far away our ride was.
I shook my head.