Chapter Text
Miranda sat in a chair with her feet up, staring out at the city. D.C. wasn’t as destroyed as New York had been, and it was soothing. She had been expecting the whole world to be in complete and utter destruction, but it seemed that things had stayed relatively the same. Aside from the effects that she had personally experienced, it was like nothing had changed.
At least that’s what some of the news articles made it seem like. Miranda had done some digging and found news and even SHIELD reports of the events, beginning with the initial attack. It had been dubbed ‘The Battle of Manhattan.’
Miranda set the tablet down on the table and closed her eyes. It was all so much.
“Mind if I join you?”
“Hm?” Miranda opened her eyes. “Be my guest, Clint.” She leaned back again and sighed.
“You’re not in here for the view.”
“No. Neither are you.” She noticed him flinch. “I’m not in your head. I… I don’t like doing that. It’s invasive.”
“You said yourself that you’ve done it.”
“I know, and I did. But, it was… different somehow. Now, I guess since I’m not scared anymore, it doesn’t seem necessary. Or ethical.”
“I suppose,” he said. “Things are different in war.”
“Why are you here, Clint? We both admitted we aren’t here for the view.”
“I wanted to talk to you. I’ve been thinking about the things you said a few days ago, during the debriefing. I’m not judging,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. “It’s just, I think I kinda know what you went through.”
“Oh, really?” she snapped.
“Hey, I said kinda. Before Manhattan, I was under the influence of Loki’s sceptre. All I’m saying is that I know what it’s like to do things against your will.”
“For the most part, everything was my decision. No one was holding a gun to my head.”
“Sometimes they don’t have to. I read Agent May’s report about the White House. I agree with her that you’re extremely self-sacrificing. Plus, you’ve got a whole list of people that you’re worried about. You even wrote their names down.”
“What are you trying to say?” Miranda sighed. She was starting to get irritated.
“Sometimes it’s more effective to point a gun at someone else’s head.” Miranda chewed on her lip. “In a situation like what you went through, you stop caring about your life. It’s everyone else that matters.”
“I should of died,” Miranda blurted. “Not just the--” she gestured to her head-- “but a lot of other times, too. I should have been executed half a dozen times. I don’t understand why I wasn’t.”
“I don’t either. When you aren’t locking yourself away in random rooms--” Clint gestured around them-- “you give Tony a run for his money with your wit. And Loki threw him out of a window for it.” Miranda was quiet for awhile.
“Clint,” she began slowly, “I want to talk to him. Loki.”
“Uh, I’m not sure about that,” he replied, rubbing the back of his head. “But I can ask for you.”
“Thank you,” she said with a small smile. After a moment’s pause, she added, “You probably think I’m crazy for wanting to.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to go near him, but I’m not you. And I don’t think you’re crazy.”
“Why don’t you want to go near him?” Clint sighed.
“He’s not exactly what you would call mentally stable.”
“I know that much. Why is he still here then? I thought he was going to be tried on Asgard.” Miranda shifted to sit with her elbows on her knees, but her baby bulge prevented it. She scowled and settled for just resting her feet on the floor.
“Problems?” Clint chuckled.
“No. Now answer my question.”
“It’s complicated.” He rubbed the back of his head again. “And I haven’t had enough coffee to dive into this.”
“Fine,” Miranda sighed, slouching back into the chair. “I s’pose it works to my advantage since I want to talk to him.” She started blinking more and her jaw clenched, a change that didn’t go unnoticed by Clint.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just hormones,” Miranda replied, her voice watery and brittle. She chewed on her cheek. Clint waited in silence. After a minute or two, Miranda let out a watery laugh. “Hormones, the end-all excuse pregnant women have. I always figured I’d have kids one day, but later . I’m not even 22 yet! And here I am!” She gestured to her stomach, voice cracking. She sniffled and brushed her tears away. “I’m sorry, you don’t wanna hear this.”
“It’s fine. Sometimes you just need to vent.” Miranda nodded, wiping away stray tears.
“Should probably get a therapist. I’m pretty fucked up.”
“Most of us are.” Miranda raised an eyebrow, but let the silence grow.
Down the hall, they could hear someone coming closer. They sounded really excited. Clint and Miranda stood and faced the door as it opened. Miranda recognized the excited scientist from the day before. Her companion appeared in the doorway a moment after.
“Jemma, slow down,” he complained.
“Hello, Agent Barton,” greeted Jemma. “Miss Douglas.”
“Dr. Simmons,” Clint replied. “Dr. Fitz. Well, I’ll be going then. I’ll ask Fury about that conversation, Miranda.”
“Thank you.” Clint left and the pair of scientists came further into the room. Simmons was practically vibrating. “I guess you got your tests done,” Miranda addressed her.
“Yes, and I--we-- found something amazing.” She tapped on her pad’s screen. “Take a look.” Miranda took the tablet and glanced over the images and numbers.
“I don’t know what any of this means,” she admitted, handing the pad back to Simmons.
“Jemma found an anomaly in your blood.”
“At first I thought it was because of the fetus--”
“But when we ran the sample of amniotic fluid against it--”
“The anomaly didn’t match--”
“So, since you were a blood donor, we wanted to get a sample of your blood from before to compare it to, which we actually somehow managed to do--”
“And the anomaly was there too, but not as strongly.”
“Woah, woah, woah, slow down. What was the anomaly?” Miranda asked.
“Your DNA isn’t completely human,” Simmons answered.