Chapter Thirteen

The next few cycles were hell, for Mira. While Clint had told her that this would be like a vacation, she knew it was anything but. She managed to break out a few times, but, not before getting caught by nets that snared when she tried crossing the property line. The worst was seeing the look Clint would give her when he found her the next morning. He would just give her this 'dead' stare, and, not bother cutting her loose until he dragged her back to the porch.

Now, it felt as if everyone was expecting her to make some kind of mistake. Mira spent a few cycles hidden in her room, wrapping her arms around her legs as she tried to keep the voices in her head from overwhelming her. Nothing could have prepared her for the nightmares that would follow. She was so afraid of closing her eyes. She was afraid of waking up again, only to find herself working for Dyson, again.

Eventually, she was forced to leave the room when she started to notice how low on energy she was. The woman, who called herself Laura, had mentioned that she could help herself to whatever was in the kitchen. While she didn't feel like facing anyone, Mira knew that a confrontation was inevitable.

Once she reached the living room, Mira noticed that the place looked empty. She glanced out the door, noticing that the kids were outside in the yard. Clint was easily keeping up with them, tossing what appeared to be a ball to the little boy as the girl tried doing a cartwheel. Laura sat on the porch, watching the peaceful scene from a safe distance.

He makes living a normal life look easy, she thought bitterly.

"Hey." Mira froze at the sound of Laura's voice. The older woman finally seemed to notice her arrival, and offered a warm smile. "If there's anything you want to eat, feel free to ask."

For a moment, Mira didn't know how to answer. She stared at Laura blankly, having little to no idea what to even consider as 'food'. After spending so long on the Grid, and surviving on nothing more than energy, she just got used to calling it that.

"I uh… I'll have whatever is available," she said, trying to keep the wariness out of her voice.

Laura only gave a nod at that before checking on Clint and the children. After making sure they were distracted, she went over to the kitchen and started pulling things out of the cabinets. Mira watched curiously from a distance. She hadn't ever had the need to cook anything. Even while staying at Avenger's Tower, meals were already prepared for everyone staying, at the time.

"I know this is anything but easy, for you," Laura started once she had something on what Mira guessed was the stove, "Clint told me what happened… no one should ever go through something like that."

Mira refused to make eye contact with the older woman as she stared at the floor. A combination of guilt and shame crawled through her as she thought of the countless lives she'd taken. She was responsible for so much. And, at the time, it had felt good. That was what terrified her, the most. She hadn't realized until than how cynical she was, when under the influence of someone else.

"All I ever seem to do is hurt people, lately," she muttered.

"Sweetie, what happened back there wasn't your fault," Laura tried reassuring her. "There are some things in this world that none of us have any control over."

She winced at the mention of 'control'. Laura didn't seem to notice as she finished preparing whatever she pulled from the cabinets and fridge. The silence that followed was incredibly awkward, especially as Mira felt Laura's gaze boring through her when she handed her the plate.

Real World food was something that Mira could never get used to. Most of her life was spent living on the Grid, where she had gotten so used to surviving on energy, alone. It took a few seconds for her finish her meal, before Clint and the children returned. Mira stiffened at the sight of the children, especially when she noticed the piercing look Clint was giving her.

"Well, look who finally decided to grace us with her presence," he grumbled, clearly annoyed with her lack of cooperation.

"Clint," Laura threw him a warning look.

"Where'd your scars come from?"

Mira felt her blood run cold when the little boy asked that. Both Clint and Laura had stiffened instinctively the microcycle her scars were mentioned.

Faster than she thought possible, she got back to her feet and lost her appetite. Low on energy or not, she didn't plan on sticking around when all they would do was judge her based on her scars. She bolted before anyone could say anything else.

Once she was alone, Mira closed the door shut behind her and threw herself onto the bed, burying her face into the pillow.

She knew people saw her differently because of those scars. She knew they would only pity her because of what had happened. In truth, Mira was fully aware that she didn't deserve their pity. Not after everything she'd done. She couldn't forgive herself.

…

She'd lost track of how many cycles it had been since she left the room. Laura would still stop in every now and then, leaving her a plate full of food. The older woman didn't bother insisting that she join them for dinner. She seemed to understand that Mira wasn't in any hurry to face the rest of the family.

It wasn't until hearing the door open that Mira finally turned to see Clint standing at the doorway. He didn't look any happier with the situation than she was, at the moment. Both of them were forced to make choices neither of them were happy with. Mira wondered if he was beginning to regret letting her stay on the farm while she 'recovered'.

"Let's go for a walk," he suggested, earning a look of surprise from Mira.

She was ready to argue when she noticed the fact that he was giving her an opportunity. Giving a faint nod of agreement, Mira climbed out of the bed and followed him into the living room. Relief swept through her when she noticed the kids were currently distracted with whatever Laura had set up on the table.

From what she gathered, Users spent a lot of time with families playing 'board games', as Steve called them, or, 'cards'. She could still remember when Beck had played a round a chess with Steve, and, lost miserably against the Super Soldier. The distraction seemed to be working, as Laura kept the kids from running over and asking more questions regarding her lack of conversation with the family.

Awkward silence followed when they left the living room and walked out onto the porch. Mira's mind began to wander back to the countless nightmares that had woken her up in the middle of the night. Between a lack of sleep and everything else, she knew she was suffering, in more ways than one. Clint seemed to sense that, himself. Maybe, that was why he'd taken it a little easier on her.

"You here to ream me out for not spending enough time with the family?" she asked, the quiet bitterness of her voice enough to make her wince.

She hadn't meant for that to come out so harshly. Clint wasn't even surprised, though. He kept quiet as they trekked forward, until reaching what looked like a wooden fence that surrounded open land. Mira looked around warily, noticing for the first time how much land this property must have had.

"No." Mira glanced at Clint self-consciously as he leaned against the fence, gesturing for her to do the same. "Look, I've seen a lot of shit over my years of working for both SHIELD and the Circus of Crime. I know what you're going through, Mira."

"That doesn't justify my actions, or the lives I took," she snapped, realizing this was the first time Clint had mentioned the Circus of Crime.

She remembered Natasha mentioning something about it, once. But, it had been nothing more than a comment regarding their training routine on the Grid. Mira had never thought about it, until Clint brought it up again.

"No, it doesn't," he agreed with her, for once.

"The Circus of Crime… Natasha mentioned it, once," she murmured, her voice softer now.

"It's not exactly something I like talking about." Mira hadn't missed the trace of bitterness in his voice. "When my brother and I were just kids, we were orphans. We ran away and joined the circus, hoping to find a better life. Turned out, it wasn't exactly what either of us expected. My brother got out, but I went on working for the Circus of Crime as Hawkeye, trained under Trickshot."

"Hence the codename," Mira guessed, suddenly understanding where that name had come from. Clint gave a nod, before realization swept through her, "You have a brother?"

"Had," he corrected her. Mira swallowed hard when she decided it was better not to ask. "All I'm saying is, we've all got problems of our own. I've learned to deal with my own demons."

Mira chewed the bottom of her lip, feeling another stab of guilt when she thought of the countless lives she'd taken. Between that and the destruction she caused throughout the Grid, she didn't know what was worse. It went against everything she believed in, and had fought for.

"Do you know what it's like to be remade?" she asked, her voice bitter as she struggled to keep herself from lashing out. "It feels like he's in my head… and I can't shake him off."

"Yeah, I do know." Clint's response made her look at him in surprise. "And it feels like hell, knowing that someone has control over the mind, and you can't do anything to fight it. Mira, I can't do anything to fix whatever it was that bastard did to you." Mira flinched at the mention of what had happened on the Grid a few mylacycles ago. He put a hand on her shoulder before saying something that really surprised her, "Only you can fight him off. And judging by what Tron taught you, you're more than capable of doing that."

Mira looked down at the ground as she wondered if Clint was right. At one point, admitting that Tron was more than a good teacher would have probably killed him. But hearing Clint say that made her realize that he must have known Tron was right to teach her everything she had learned.

"How would you suggest I flush him out entirely?" she finally asked after giving what he said some thought.

"Think of anything but what happened," Clint replied, looking at her thoughtfully. "Focus on the people you care about."

She nodded and took his advice, closing her eyes and focusing her attention on everyone she cared about. Despite her lack of trust towards most Users and programs, she still cared deeply for them. The most important programs in her life included Beck and Tron. Focusing on them gave her more strength than she realized, and eventually, mental images of the Avengers came to mind. The more she thought about them, the stronger her compassion to protect them and keep them safe became.

I would die for them, she vowed. And in that moment, she realized that there were no voices in her head. No one telling her what to do or how to act. Her eyes opened, and she found herself staring at Clint in amazement. It felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She suddenly wrapped her arms around him in a hug, realizing just how much hurt and pain she had suffered from over the last few xilacycles. She hardly noticed that anyone else was watching, or the fact that tears stung the edge of her vision. She was finally free.