UNKNOWN GUEST

#22 The Nuke Threat

Clint and Natasha stood outside the medical chamber, the tension between them almost palpable. Clint's anxiety was evident in his restless pacing and the tight grip he had on the edge of his jacket. He couldn't shake the fear that gnawed at him—what if something terrible happened to James, or worse, what if he couldn't return to his own time?

 The thought of failing his friend's son weighed heavily on him. He had been entrusted with James's safety, and now he feared he had not only failed in that duty but also betrayed the trust of Steve and Natasha of future.

Clint's mind replayed the recent events in a blur of anxiety and regret. James had warned him about Loki's ability to manipulate and confuse. He had even predicted that Clint, one of the sharpest minds he knew, would fall prey to Loki's machinations. It was a chilling reminder of how vulnerable even the best could be under Loki's influence. The reality of James being injured and the potential impact on his ability to return to his timeline hit Clint like a ton of bricks.

As Clint wrestled with these fears, Natasha stood beside him, her own concerns evident in her furrowed brow and tight-lipped expression. The sight of Steve rushing towards them added another layer of urgency to the situation. Steve's worry was clear as he approached them, his face etched with the same fear that Clint felt.

"Is he okay?" Steve's voice was laced with concern, his eyes searching theirs for any sign of hope.

Natasha sighed deeply, shaking her head in frustration. "No update," she replied, her voice heavy with the weight of her own anxiety.

Clint couldn't help but wonder about the strange coincidence of James's injury and the fact that his future parents—Steve and Natasha—were waiting outside the medical chamber, their faces etched with worry. They didn't even know who Jason was, but the concern they felt for him was deeply personal.

Natasha was deeply concerned about Jason, a sentiment that seemed to defy logic. Jason was just an agent, someone Natasha barely knew. Yet, her worry was profound, almost visceral. She reflected on their brief interactions, how he always greeted her with a polite "Hi, ma'am" and the way he carried himself with a sense of earnestness and respect.

Her mind raced through memories of Jason—his red hair, his earnest attempts to fit in, and the way he seemed to look at her with a familiar warmth. Each time she interacted with him, there was a strange, almost gut-wrenching sense of déjà vu. It was as if she were seeing a reflection of herself in him.

Natasha's thoughts flickered back to Loki's taunts. "You can't even recognize what's yours," Loki had said, and she found herself haunted by that statement. What did Loki mean by that? Why did it feel so deeply unsettling?

Steve stood there, his mind was awash with memories of Jason. The teenager, barely out of his teens, had been an unexpected presence in Steve's life. He remembered how Jason would persistently follow him around, always trying to engage him in conversations about modern culture and technology. It had been easy to snap at him, to brush him off when he was busy or frustrated. Yet, despite Steve's gruffness, Jason never seemed deterred. Instead, he pushed harder, always aiming to help Steve bridge the gap between his past and the present.

Steve remembered the record player they had picked out together, its soothing melodies from the late '80s providing him with an unexpected sense of calm and nostalgia. Jason's presence in the gym, his relentless enthusiasm, and his ability to make Steve feel less like a relic and more like part of the present—all of these things made Steve's heart ache as he thought about what had just happened.

The sudden appearance of the doctor pulled everyone from their introspection. His face was lined with professional concern as he approached them, his white coat a stark contrast to the grim setting. He spoke clearly and urgently, "Agent Roberts is fine now. The surgery is done. The cut on his back, just under the neck, was severe. The power of that alien spear—it cut through his flesh quite deeply." The weight of the doctor's words seemed to settle heavily on everyone's shoulders. Relief mingled with residual anxiety as they processed the information.