Chapter Text
At this point of the night, part of Miranda doesn’t even know what she and Jack have been arguing about. Both of them have been going for hours, days, even, and as the morning approaches, all Miranda knows is that she’s damn tired. Tired of the arguments, tired of the screaming, and, above all, Miranda is even more tired of pretending.
She’s tired of pretending in front of their mutual friends, in front of their coworkers, and more than anything, Miranda is tired of pretending in front of Ori.
Right then, Jack is getting ready for yet another round, and not for the first time, Miranda finds herself pressing her fingers as hard as she can against her eyes, years of medical advice be damned. The only thing going through Miranda’s mind is that she needs things to be quiet, and needs to put her thoughts in order. She needs Jack to shut up and she needs it now.
Before Miranda can think more about it, before she can put any thought into it, she finds herself sighing. Taking a deep breath in hopes to ease the stress that’s been eating at her, Miranda finds herself speaking before she can put any thought into it, “Jack, I can’t. I--I can’t do this anymore. Us. ”
Sure, both of them have been going for hours at this point, but it isn’t until those words are out of Miranda’s lips that Jack finds herself speechless and caught off guard. For the first time since the two of them have gotten together, she finds herself not knowing what to do with herself. Choking the words out, it isn’t until then that she finds herself speaking. “What? What do you mean?”
“I can’t,” Miranda repeats herself, her voice breaking as she ignores the lump forming itself on the back of her throat, and for a brief moment, she needs to keep herself from crying as she continues speaking. Walking to Jack, Miranda takes one of her hands in hers, before saying, “It just… It isn’t working. We need to stop lying to ourselves.”
The words out of Miranda’s mouth, it isn’t until then that Jack stops. If moments before Jack had been sure of things, of them, if she had known where their argument was going, it certainly isn’t the case anymore, and it’s almost as if her world has collapsed from under her feet.
When it comes to Miranda, Jack expects all sorts of things, but this? This isn’t one of them, and before she can stop herself, she’s saying, “The fuck you’re talking about, bitch?”
Right then and there, it’s almost as if the hurt that Miranda has been feeling turns into something else altogether, but then again: she isn’t sure why she’s surprised. More often than not, anger and hurt walk side by side when it comes to their relationship these days, and as much as Miranda loves her, these sort of moments only makes Miranda even more sure of herself and of her decision.
“Fuck you,” Miranda says, her voice as cold as ice as she does so. “Don’t speak to me like that.”
“Fuck me ? Fuck you ,” Jack spits out, becoming louder as frustration creeps into her tone. Walking up to Miranda, she doesn’t think twice before grabbing her forearm into one of her hands, doesn’t even as much as give a second thought before tightening her grip around it, trying to make Miranda see her point. “Bitch.”
Jack needs, after all, to make Miranda see reason, and the thought of hurting her becomes an afterthought.
“You’re making no sense,” Jack continues, and the statement is enough to make Miranda’s blood boil, her face and neck becoming hot. Right then, she doesn’t need to take a look at herself to know that she’s red, and had it been any other circumstances, Miranda would’ve been embarrassed about losing control of herself and of the situation like this.
At all of these thoughts, Miranda decides she’s had enough of it. Frustrated, Miranda finds herself pulling away from Jack’s grip, and for someone so small, she has a lot of strength. “Let go of me, damn it.”
Except Jack doesn’t do it as soon as she’s asked. Instead, it’s almost as if she’s struggling against the thought of it, almost as if she keeps her grip on Miranda, she can convince her to stay, but, in the end, Jack does let go of her, and Miranda doesn’t waste any time before rubbing circles on her skin, trying to soothe the bruises that are going to no doubt have popped up by the time morning comes.
Jack pretends not to see any of it, and in hopes to soothe her guilt, Jack crosses her arms before mumbling, “This came outta nowhere.”
“No, it didn’t. Not really,” After a beat, Miranda finds herself saying before sighing in frustration. Walking to her (their) bed, she makes herself comfortable there before patting the vacant spot beside her, a clear invitation for Jack, and, for a beat or two, she refuses to budge, refuses to come to her, but at last, with some reluctance, Jack does come to her.
It isn’t until this one moment that Miranda adds, “This has been coming for a while. Don’t deny it.”
At that, part of Jack can’t believe her ears, and she doesn’t think twice before starting to speak once again. That is, before Miranda cuts her off. “Please, don’t interrupt me.”
And for once, Jack doesn’t interrupt her. It isn’t until Miranda takes yet another deep breath before she starts speaking, “All we do is argue these days, and that’s… That’s not good. Not for us, and certainly not for Ori.”
“You’re so full of shit,” Frowning, Jack says, not even as much as taking a moment to put some thought into Miranda’s words, but then again: it isn’t like that’s surprising either. “Bringing her into this. She has nothing to do with this. Asshole.”
“You’re an idiot if you think she hasn’t been watching us,” Miranda points out, and it isn't until then that Jack stops and listens, it isn't until then that she tries to understand, even if she doesn't agree with it: children are smart, and pick up on things they aren't supposed to all the time, and Oriana, being smarter than most of them, isn't any different.
No, she can’t do it anymore, and that’s final. Shaking her head, Miranda continues, “She’s nine, she’s not a baby anymore. She notices more than she lets on.”
Both of them have been going at it for quite some time now, after all.
And, after that, neither Miranda nor Jack say anything. The silence between them is almost deafening, and it isn’t until that moment that it seems as if it sinks in for Jack. “Shit. You’re serious about this.”
Part of Miranda doesn’t like to admit it, but, in the end, she couldn’t do anything other than nod before saying, “Yes, I am.”
For longer than either of them can count, Miranda and Jack have been in each other’s life, and in a matter of moments, it’s gone, over. Jack needs more than some time to wrap her mind around the thought of it, but the same can’t be said about Miranda, she can’t help but notice, as the wheels start turning in the back of Jack’s mind.
There’s so much for them to figure out together, and not for the first time since all of this has started (ended), Jack finds her temper rising, a stab of anger making itself known, and the fact that Miranda is already trying to find ways to fix things that shouldn’t need to be fixed in the first place only makes all of it worse.
Taking one deep breath, Jack tries. Swallowing her anger and stepping on it, she tries. There isn't much of a point in being angry anymore.
That is, until Miranda decided it had been a good idea to open her big, stupid mouth again.
Deciding to break the silence at last, Miranda adds, “You… You don’t need to worry about this anymore. I’m going to talk to Ori about it, and I’m going to fix things.”
And if Jack hadn’t thought Miranda had gone insane before, she certainly does now.
“You aren’t being serious right now,” Scoffing, Jack says, and the brief control she had on her temper is gone. Right then, Miranda shoots her a confused look, and she can’t hold it in anymore: there isn’t any humor in it, but she laughs, and, sitting up straighter, Jack finds herself talking before she can even put any thought behind it or before Miranda can open her mouth again and piss her off even more. “If you think you can just take the kid away from me, you’re wrong.”
This time around, it’s Miranda’s turn to scoff.
“As if you have any rights to her,” Miranda shoots back. “We aren’t married, Jack, and she isn’t yours.”
Because Oriana is hers, damn it. Hers and hers alone, is what Miranda doesn’t say out loud, and at the sound of it, Jack starts seeing red. Part of her, the logical side, can understand, since both she and Miranda had discussed their pasts with each other before: she knows how her father had been, how much Miranda had fought for Oriana before their father died, and she'd never be able to let go of the control that came with it for anyone, not even for her.
She expects that sort of betrayal from a lot of people, but she certainly doesn’t expect from Miranda, no. Never from her. Serves her right for being trusting for once in her life, and Miranda must have completely lost her mind if she thinks she's going to let go of it so easily.
“Fuck that!” Moments before, Jack had been trying to keep herself together, but it isn’t the case anymore. Being calm had been thrown out of the window from the moment Miranda decided to bring Oriana into it. Opening her mouth, Miranda tries to cut her off, and once again, Jack finds herself cutting her. She’s the one speaking, and Miranda is going to listen to her.
“No, shut up. Shut your stupid mouth for once and listen, Princess,” Fighting the urge to grip Miranda’s arm once again, Jack snarls. Sometimes it feels as if the only way to get her to shut up and listen,
Sometimes it felt like the only way to get her to shut up and listen to her for once, and before Miranda could protest, words came rolling from her lips.
“I’ve been around for seven years, Miranda. Seven. That’s not nothing. You don’t get to come in the middle of that because you got pissy.”
“I’ve been raising her just as much as you,” Jack adds. “I’m not going to just disappear, and you’re not going to make me out to be the villain.”
“It doesn’t have anything to do with being the villain, Jack--”
“It does!” And, not for the first time since all of it has started, Jack finds herself screaming. This time around, though, it isn’t in anger or frustration, no. This time around, it’s in distress. “You decided to end things, Miranda. Not me, you, so stop being a pussy about it and face everything for yourself instead of using Oriana like a meat shield.”
“What are you even talking about?” Miranda asks, exasperated, “I’m not using--”
“You are, Miranda! Stop being a pussy about it!” She says, and right then, right in that moment, something clicks in her brain, and Jack can’t do it anymore. “Y’know what? I’m not doing this. Fuck you, and fuck this. I’m not listening to you. I’m leaving.”
“Please, don’t be a child about it,” Her voice much softer this time around, Miranda said, the tears coming back, and, right then, that's almost enough to break her, but then again: Jack is used to this sort of thing, and she isn't going to let Miranda manipulate her into yet another conversation, no. Not after implying that Oriana didn't matter to her. “We’re having an actual conversation, for once.”
“You don’t have to do this,” Miranda continues, half begging, as Jack makes it to the door of their room. She shouldn’t be surprised about it, but in the end, pleading doesn’t work. When it comes to these sorts of things, it never does, and that never ends well.
The sound of Miranda's voice doesn't help things, it doesn't help Jack to calm down, and right then and there, she needs to put as much distance between both of them before she does something she truly regrets. Something she isn't going to be able to come back from.
And, for one last time, Miranda finds herself trying. “Jack, come back. Let’s talk.”
She doesn’t miss home, and she sure doesn’t miss the foster homes she had grown up in, but this time around, it’s different. For once in her life, Jack misses part of it: she misses the old buildings and even older houses, misses the way their floorboards creaked and how loud the doors sounded when someone slammed them. After all, there’s nothing like slamming a door in the middle of an argument.
The three of them living on the Citadel, though, Jack has to settle for angrily palming the door panel as she physically could, has to settle for enjoying the soft beep and the soft hiss it makes as it opens and closes.
Miranda doesn’t go after her, she doesn’t leave their bed, and, in the end, Jack doesn’t come back either. In the end, neither of them budge.
Neither of them know how.