Here and Where You Are - QueenVee1 (2024)

Chapter 1: A Billion Little Pieces

Chapter Text

Darcy Lewis grunted when the shock wave slammed into her body. She squinted against the blast of air, glancing over at Jane, eyes widening with fear. "Jane!?"

"I know!" Jane screamed, brown hair streaming in the wind, reaching out to grab Darcy's hand. "Just hold on!"

Pulling herself as close to Jane as she could, Darcy threw her arms around her friend's waist and held on for dear life. This was bad, f*ck, this was so bad. This was worse than New Mexico, even worse than London. And seeing as those were already pretty horrible ’apocalypse is coming so make sure you’re wearing clean underwear’ battles, that was saying something.

All of this started for six measly college credits. Yes, she’d gotten a best friend out of the deal, and a man who looked at her the way she assumed a father would look at a daughter, and yeah, okay, she’d also been around a Norse god who could fly and wore a fabulous cape, but damn she was sick of almost dying.

But this time it didn’t look like almost. It looked like full-on dead.

She could hear sounds of fighting and screaming. She and Jane weren’t even in the thick of the battle, but she could hear it, and that was bad enough. Even being on the fringes was dangerous, and she yelled as something flew by their heads and crashed into a building.

f*ck!

Darcy was pretty sure the buildings around them had been evacuated (or flee’d from in fear), but as the bricks began to cave in, she figured it was too late now. "What's the possibility we die?" she yelled at Jane, needing the distraction.

"I don't know, Darcy!"

She could hear the terror in Jane's voice. Both of them shouted when a softly glowing stone skidded across the rubble of what used to be a street and came to a stop a few yards in front of them. It looked like it was made of the brightest amber and Darcy could see things swirling within it, and it made her blood run cold. She remembered Jane mentioning something about important stones, the kind of important that only the Avengers (with their powers and strength and ability to not be terrified every f*cking minute) could handle... yet there it was, beautiful and terrifying, sitting right in front of them.

Darcy was still holding onto Jane as tight as she could, shielding her eyes against the wind and the sand that it threw at them. "I need a percentage!"

"What?"

The fighting continued around them, a blur of bodies and sounds of pain, the blast of lights and lasers. Darcy couldn’t even imagine what was happening in the war raging; there had been things she’d seen that she couldn’t wrap her head around, including a tree and a raccoon. So much of this was above her pay grade and level of understanding that she needed something to ground her.

Both women screamed when something scorched the ground a few feet in front of them, leaving a line of charred dirt and smoking sand that had turned to glass. If it was symbolic of some kind of line they were about to cross (f*ck, she was so bad at crossing lines!), then Darcy chose stubbornly to ignore it. Instead she yelled out to Jane again. "Give me a number! How likely are we about to die?"

"What are you talking about?! Ah!"

Darcy oofed when an energy blast detonated nearby, throwing them off their feet and backward through the air. She grunted as she and Jane hit something, knocking the breath out of them. As she struggled to take in a breath, she looked up at the thing her body had just slammed against; it was a panel van, on the side was a flaming skull, wearing a leather jacket and holding a flaming chain.

Ugh. So tacky.

Darcy could taste blood in her mouth. She was going to die. She’d gotten lucky the first two times, but the third time would not be the charm. She was terrified, her heart racing, and some small part of her couldn't help but think this is what you get for trying to hang out with people who are cooler than you.

She wasn’t supposed to be here, not with Gods or superheroes or super soldiers. She was nothing, just a lab monkey, a person who could only tangentially be connected with the Avengers. Darcy should have known better, she should have learned her lesson the first two times and just become a barista at Starbucks, or some equally as mundane of a job.

At least Starbucks baristas get health care.

She coughed, rolling in the dirt, watching as Jane did the same. "Janey..."

Darcy followed Jane’s line of sight, seeing the tears wet on her friend’s cheeks. Jane was looking at the carnage ahead of them, the rolling mass of smoke and lights, looking for any sign of Thor. Darcy could see the hope draining from Jane’s eyes as she realized just how bad everything was. Jane needed a distraction, and that was something Darcy had been called her entire life. Just a distraction.

"Jane Foster, what percentage are we looking at? One-hundred? Fifty? Two? Just give me something!" She reached out and pulled on Jane’s hand, rising to her knees. The astrophysicist looked at her, and the terror in Jane’s eyes filled Darcy with a steel resolve. She was not going to let the only real friend she’d ever had feel like all hope was lost.

"I don't know!"

"Jane!" Darcy shook her shoulders harder, gritting her teeth, "give me a damn number!"

"Uh... I don't..." Jane let out a sob, "sixty-two percent!"

Sixty-two percent. If Jane's math was correct (and it always was), there was a sixty-two percent chance that she'd never have another cup of coffee, or pet another dog, or walk aimlessly around Target for hours. She’d never kiss someone who was completely wrong for her but felt so right. There were a million things she hadn’t done and had always planned on doing later. Now there might not be a later and it f*cking sucked.

Her hazel eyes glanced upward, watching the fight rage around them. She could make out a few familiar sights in the melee; a glint of crimson and gold (Iron Man), the shine of chrome (That one guy? Someone else?), a blur of green and purple (absolutely no f*cking clue), a flash of red, white and blue (Captain f*cking America!).

Darcy almost cried when she saw the spark of lightning in the mix, knowing that it was Thor and knowing, with all her heart, that he and Jane belonged together. Not only did they belong together, but they were supposed to get married and be Asgardian royalty and have super hot giant Norse God babies who she would buy stupid gifts for and teach all about the Seattle grunge rock music scene in the early 90s.

This was all wrong.

They were losing, and she knew it. She could feel it like a weight in the air, like smelling ozone and petrichor before it started raining. They were going to die, despite everything, they were all going to die, and all over some stupid ugly gems? No jewelry was worth this bullsh*t. Her eyes fell to the glowing stone, watching it strobe in the smoke, like it was waiting for something.

Or someone.

"You know what? f*ck this."

Darcy climbed uneasily to her feet, using the tacky van for support. Moving hurt like a bitch and she clutched at her ribs. She couldn't take a full breath without a stabbing pain. Rib fractures? Probably. She'd never had any so she couldn't say for sure. But she hurt, and was exhausted, and was just so over everything. If this gem was so f*cking important, then someone needed to grab it, right? If it was a weapon that could be used to keep people from dying, then it was her duty to help. She didn’t have super vision or super strength. She couldn’t kill anyone with her bare hands, or shoot webs out of her wrists, or turn into a monster. If the only way she could help was to grab the stone and keep it safe, then that’s what she was going to do.

She'd probably come to regret it, but she thought that way about a lot of things she’d done in her life, and they'd all led her here, right here, so maybe it was all for a reason. f*ck, she hoped it was all for a reason.

Darcy took a breath, not all the way in because f*cking ow, but looked over to Jane with a pained grin. "Tick your percentage up to a hundred for me, kay?"

Jane had to yell to be heard over the wall of sound. "What?"

"If you have a girl and don't name her after me, I'll come back and haunt your ass!"

Realization dawned on Jane’s face, realizing what her friend was about to do. "Darcy, wait!"

She didn't listen to Jane, didn’t even look back at her, afraid that if she did she’d get too chicken sh*t and stop. She took a few stumbling steps forward, then broke into an all out run, making a beeline for the glowing stone.

Darcy was stupid, so f*cking stupid, but she didn't have any super powers. Maybe this was hers.

Stupidity.

Stupidity on a scale never before seen in this galaxy.

She only had to dodge one wayward blast of some kind (was someone using an honest to Odin Star Wars phaser?!?) on her way, skidding in the dirt, sliding like it was home base. Right before her fingers closed around the glowing amber gem, Darcy shut her eyes and threw a prayer into the Universe.

Please let this matter, David Bowie, wherever you are, please just let this matter.

Jane screamed at Darcy, terror seizing her chest, arm stretching out as if she could stop her from doing what she knew her friend was about to do. When a blast of orange light erupted from Darcy, Jane threw her arm over her eyes, retinas burning with the negative image of her friend’s body.

Almost, as if a switch had been flipped, the sounds of combat went quiet. A hush fell over the battlefield and everyone, wounded, bloody, and beaten, turned their heads to see the body of a young woman begin to hover above the ground, dark hair swirling and eyes burning with amber light.

Thanos - whose massive hand was wrapped around Captain America’s neck, who was seconds away from victory, who was already grinning in triumph - looked toward the woman and the gem, his face contorting in fury. He threw Steve Rogers’ body aside, taking three large steps before launching himself at her. He was moving impossibly fast, too fast, no way for anyone who was there to intervene or stop him.

The woman’s hand rose, her amber eyes turning to look at the purple-skinned creature. He hung in the air, suspended and frozen, death and destruction on his face. The woman looked at him, staring into his eyes, seemingly weighing him with her gaze. A moment of silence, and then the simple word 'no' formed on her lips. With a scream of rage, Thanos was enveloped in amber, combusting into ash, orange electricity sparking through the air where he’d been seconds before.

No one moved.

No one breathed.

Finally, in the silence, the woman smiled softly. "Neat."

Blackness.

There was music playing somewhere, something soft and gentle and muted as if it was coming from another room. Darcy was warm, and calm, and she felt great. Like ‘I’ve just spent a weekend in a day spa being pampered and ‘eating whatever I want because calories don’t count’ great. Had she ever felt this great? She didn’t think so.

“Darcy?”

She frowned. That wasn’t her name. Was it? Hers was older, and in a different language, and she didn’t have the right biology to make the sounds correctly. She tried it for herself, letting the name roll around her tongue. “Daaaaarrrrrrcccccccccy.”

“Darcy, can you hear me?”

No. Well, she could hear, but she didn’t want to. She wanted to go back to the spa and the zero-calorie cheesecake, and the strong hands of a masseuse named Claude who was wearing shorts way too small to be legal. Darcy wanted to stay there, adrift on a sea of happiness and fluffy towels. She didn’t want to leave.

Suddenly, and despite her futile cries of ‘noooooooo’, memories began to flood back into her brain, crashing against her mind like a tsunami.

Owwwww, damn it.

She heard her name said again, groaning when she realized she couldn’t hide in her spa any longer. Her voice was rough when it her lips formed the words. “There is no Darcy, ‘s only Zuul.”

When she heard a sob, Darcy carefully squinted open one eye. It was bright, much too bright, but she slowly focused on the shapes looking down at her. Jane’s head cleared in her vision, and she saw the tears fresh on her face. She watched Jane, her beautiful best friend Jane, the only person who’d put up with her for more than a month at a time, crying softly against Thor’s chest.

Darcy frowned. She was forgetting something, Or remembering something. Everything seemed so fuzzy. And too gotdamn bright! “Hey, Big Guy, whatdja do?” She didn’t like it when Jane cried and if Thor was the one to blame, she’d make it known just how much she didn’t like it.

“Wasn’t him, Freaks and Geeks. What on Earth made you grab that stone?”

That voice was new, she thought, turning her gaze from Thor to Tony Stark. Tony f*cking Stark was standing over her, pinning her with a look. And boy was it A Look. “What stone?”

“The stone. The stone to end all stones?”

“Was it a Rolling Stone? Richards, perhaps?” Darcy laughed at herself, but it looked like she was the only one. That was sad, as she thought it was a rather funny joke and deserved at least a chuckle. But maybe jokes just weren’t the Avengers thing, as she watched Stark roll his eyes and take a step away from her.

“We’re not sure how you did it, but you absorbed one of the infinity stones.”

Darcy’s rolled her cheek onto the pillow, grin widening when she saw Steve Rogers, Captain Freaking America, sitting at her bedside. “I know you. You punched Hitler.” He was dirty, and bloody, and Darcy knew vaguely that it was weird to find that attractive, but damn did he look good.

The small grin he gave her comment made her chest flutter all funny. But when the flutter continued and started getting worse, she realized that maybe it wasn’t just the hunky blond who was looking at her. Nope definitely felt like she was going to erupt. Erupt?!

“Wha…”

Darcy sat up suddenly, hearing several chairs screech across the floor as their occupants scrambled backward from her. Her hands were crackling with orange energy. Not lightning, not electricity, but swirls of brilliant amber light. It was almost like smoke, she was able to wave her fingers through it, leaving it spinning in tendrils. For the first time since waking, she felt the stirrings of fear. “That’s… new. What happened to me?”

“Uh, We’re still not sure,” a man with rumpled clothes said as he came closer, pulling his glasses off and scrutinizing her hands. “We need to run tests, see if you’ve had changes at a cellular level. If something in your DNA’s been altered, we could use the information to determine what kind of abilities to expect.”

“Abilities?” Darcy’s eyes widened and she looked over at Jane, her voice rising an octave. “Am I going to die?”

Jane started to take a step toward her, but Darcy watched Thor place a hand on her elbow, holding her back. She seemed to think better of moving, giving Darcy a small smile, tone encouraging. “No, Darce, no, of course not. You’re going to be fine.”

At Jane’s words, it was like a kaleidoscope flashed over Darcy’s vision. Everything went black, but she could see blobs of colors where people had just stood. Where Jane had been there was a pretty purple, like lilacs, like the pastel plastic Easter Eggs she’d been forced to be excited about as a kid. But as Darcy watched, the purple flashed an angry red color. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she knew Jane wasn’t telling the truth.

“You’re lying,” Darcy said, shaking her head, “you don’t know if I’m going to be alright.”

“There’s a lot we’re not sure of,” Steve said. Darcy turned her head to where he’d been sitting beside her. “We just want to make sure you’re somewhere safe. Then we can work together on figuring out what happened.”

Steve Rogers glowed a brilliant gold, but there was a vein of cobalt in that gold, pretty and shiny. Beautiful and honest. It took a shake of her head for the colors to dissipate and it left her feeling a bit dizzy. From what she’d seen, he really did believe they were going to be able to help her. Or at least he was lying to himself about it.. Either way, she was glad for the heavy optimism he seemed to maintain.

“Did we at least take down Ivan Ooze Guy?” Darcy looked between them when they said nothing. They were all looking at her oddly, like they had no idea what she was talking about, and it pulled her lips into a frown. “Ivan Ooze? Bad purple oozey guy from the Power Rangers movie? Come on, nobody?”

Thor grinned down at her, realizing what she’d been asking. “It was not us, Lady Darcy, but you. You defeated Thanos, The Mad Titan, in single combat.”

She looked up at the god suspiciously. She thought she ought to remember killing someone who had their own tagline. Mad Titan? Really? How f*cking pretentious. Even now, knowing she’d be able to tell if he was lying, she still didn’t believe him. “Bullsh*t,” she breathed, waiting for one of them to laugh and tell her what’d really happened.

“It’s true.” Her gaze swung to Stark, who was gesturing as if he was going to pluck the explanation from the air, annoyed that he was having to validate it in the first place. “It’s ridiculous and outside the realm of anything remotely possible, but it’s true.”

Darcy looked at Jane, and Thor, and the man with glasses, and the delicious blond specimen at her side, but they were all giving her the same look. She’d done it. She’d actually done it. She’d put the call into the universe and David Bowie had made her the Babe with The Power!

“Well then. Score one for Team Stupid!” Darcy said, throwing her still-glowing hands in the air. From behind the group gathered she heard what sounded suspiciously like a snort. As she’d had yet to make anyone laugh, she found herself interested in who she’d broken first. She leaned to her left (putting her closer to Captain America who smelled like freedom and never having to pay taxes again) so she could see around Stark.

The man was leaning against the wall, legs crossed at the ankles, hiding the laugh he’d just made behind his metal hand. His hair was dark and hung around his shoulders. The tactical gear he was wearing seemed like it had far too many latches and buckles than was necessary, and as she blinked at him, the blackness stole her vision again and she was able to see him in hues.

“Whoooooaaaa.”

He was a swirl of crimson, of blood, like life concentrated down into a color. Around all that red, on the edges and almost looking like it’d been burned, was the color of charcoal and ash. But even under that was a vein of brilliant cobalt, a perfect match for the blue running through Captain America, too.

“So pretty.” The man wasn’t hard to look at, either, to be honest. Not man, she thought to herself, that’s the Winter Soldier. She recognized him from the news, and though he looked a bit too dour for her tastes, she was able to appreciate a man who could give a good ‘brood’. She shook her head - dizzzzy - until her vision cleared and she was left looking at everyone, whole and pure and not colored with crayons.

The entire room’s eyebrows knit together and followed her line of sight, casting a backward glance at the man. Darcy watched the soldier realize everyone was looking at him, pushing off the wall. For what it was worth, she thought he acted entirely appropriately when his jaw clenched, he glared at everyone, then swiftly exited the room. The eyes in the room turned back to her, the range of expressions from mild amusem*nt to outright befuddlement.

She shrugged her shoulders at them. “He’s pretty. I mean, I’m seeing colors. Pretty colors.” She gestured with her hands toward the slowly closing door. “Swirling around. He had a lot of pretty colors. Seeing colors isn’t normal, right? That’s a bad sign?”

Everyone seemed to share a look that she didn’t understand, but it seemed like there was a metric f*ck ton of stuff she wasn’t grasping just yet. Like the fact that she could see f*cking colors and had killed someone.

“Bruce and Tony will have a look, and we’ll go from there. We’ll figure this out, I promise.” Steve Rogers was radiating comfort and Darcy drank it in, letting her eyes linger on the blue of his eyes, a color she’d be a-okay with seeing all the time.

“Well, you are the man with the plan,” Darcy said, giving him a mock salute. The wry grin he flashed her way made her smile widen. Sweet Jeezie Creezie I made Captain America grin!

As he stood and turned away from her, she threw a thumbs up sign at Jane, nodding her head in the direction of the Captain’s retreating form. As if to say ‘Did you see that? Did you just witness that poetry in motion? It was like the first time listening to The Beatles!’

Her thumb was still lightly glowing.

Jane took a step closer to the bed she was laid out on, mouth turning downward as she looked at Darcy with worry in her whiskey-colored eyes. “Maybe you don’t touch anyone until we get this figured out?”

Darcy made a small groan of disappointment but smiled when Jane raised an eyebrow at her. “Fine, yes. Hands-off the Captain. Got it.”

Soon enough it was just Jane and Thor left in the little medical room, and Darcy shifted under the weight of their gazes. “Okay, the rest of the famous people are gone. Tell me what actually happened.” She saw the look of confusion on their faces. “I mean, yeah, I grabbed the stone and, presto, I ended up killing the purple guy. But after that?”

Carefully, Jane sat on the edge of the bed, making sure there was space between their bodies. “After you collapsed, everyone stopped fighting. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents took Thanos’ minions away. We couldn’t seem to wake you, so we brought you here.”

“And here is…”

“The Avengers compound in upstate New York.”

Darcy’s eyebrows raised. “How’d I get here?”

“The Vision transported you safely. He was very gentle with your body.”

Frowning at the visual Thor’s words brought, Darcy shook her head. “Okay. How long -”

“The entire trip here. Then another 2 hours.” Jane lifted her hand like she wanted to squeeze Darcy’s shoulder, or throw her arms around her, or something so she knew her friend was actually alright, but she stopped herself. “I was so worried. Why? Why did you grab that stone?”

Darcy opened her mouth to tell her it had been the right thing to do, that she’d just wanted to help, that she could see they were all about to die and it had terrified her to the core, but she couldn’t. She would have to unpack that whole list some other time. “I don’t know,” Darcy said finally, knowing from Jane’s face that her friend didn’t believe her in the slightest.

“It was one of the bravest things I’ve ever witnessed,” Thor said, his golden retriever like smile drawing one of her own. “And the stupidest. Stupid but mighty.”

“Could you please get that printed on a coffee mug? Or a t-shirt?” Darcy watched Jane stand up with a roll of her eyes, glad to have taken the deep worry from her friend’s face, if only for a little while. “So what happens now?”

“I think right now you get some more rest, and then we start running tests, figure out what happened and how to fix you.”

Darcy frowned. “Fix me?”

Jane turned and gave her a pained expression. “That came out wrong. I don’t mean fix. I mean… well, I don’t know what I mean, actually. If this is something that can be reversed, maybe that’s what needs done. If it’s not something that can be reversed, we need to make sure it’s not going to hurt you. If it’s something permanent and you start showing abilities other than your... “

“Kaleidoscope eyes?” she offered.

“... retinal synesthesia,” Jane said, mouth pursing, “then we find out the full breadth of your abilities.”

Darcy had no idea what Jane was talking about, but she nodded her head like she did. “Okay. Sleep. Here? I have to sleep here?”

“... the others expressed concerns about having you travel outside the medical area.”

That had to have been the nicest way anyone had ever been told people were scared of them, and Darcy was grateful for the gentle way Thor was handling her. Not that she was going to break, but being told ‘we’re keeping you locked up because you freak us the f*ck out’ probably wouldn’t help keep her as calm.

“Okay. Is it… our place? My clothes?”

“About that…”

Darcy could see it in Jane’s face. All their stuff was gone. She should have known better than to keep anything more than what could fit in a suitcase. It’s how she’d grown up, shuffling from foster home to foster home, but she’d gotten too comfortable with Jane, and the steady work, and the staying in one place for longer than six months.

“Well can I get something else to wear? I think these jeans have seen better days.” Finally taking a moment to look at herself, Darcy was well aware that the clothes she currently had on were toast. Covered in dirt and grime. Parts of them burned and ashy, others as if they’d been charred by fire. Other than a slight headache, and some soreness around her ribs, she felt relatively healthy physically.

“I keep a few pieces here in the occasion I cannot return to Asgard. I can gather some for you. They will likely be too large -”

“Yes. Please. Thor clothes would be lovely. Thanks.” Darcy wasn’t sure why, but wearing a shirt that smelled like the large blond sounded like heaven, like a security blanket she could wrap herself in. “And then we can go and get me more later?” She looked at Jane, her hope fading at the look in her friend’s eyes. “Fine. I stay here. You get me stuff. But stuff I’ll like. None of your L.L.Bean ‘I’m emulating an eighty-year-old woman’ thing you wear so well.”

The flash of annoyance on Jane’s face settled something in Darcy. At least some things hadn’t changed.

“What do you think?”

Bruce removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I think that she’s lucky to be alive. If what Quill said is true, then she shouldn’t have been able to survive touching the stone. He watched one of the stones turn a person to ash when they touched it, just like it did to Thanos.”

“No,” Tony said, arms crossed over his chest, shaking his head, “the stone didn’t destroy Thanos. She did. He didn’t even get a chance to touch the stone. She destroyed him.”

“But that opens the possibilities that she might be dangerous. Is it safe to keep her here?”

Sighing, Bruce slipped his glasses back on, giving Steve an uncertain expression. “Um, the short answer? I don’t know. The long answer? We’ll have to run tests. I don’t even know what tests to run, so we’ll do them all”

“And if she is dangerous?”

Steve’s blue gaze slipped to Bucky. He hadn’t joined their circle, content to stay on the fringe, wanting to hear everything but not wanting to participate. That he’d asked a question at all was surprising. “Then we figure out a way to handle it.”

“Handle it? And what exactly would that entail?”

Sighing, Steve turned toward Tony as he answered. “I don’t want to argue, Tony.”

“This isn’t arguing. This is a discussion. That girl in there saved our asses. You saw how close he was to taking everything. That you’re even walking right now is a f*cking miracle. There will be no ‘handling’ here. There will be science, and science will be the one figuring this one out, not your weapon.”

Steve could feel Bucky bristle at Tony’s words. There’d been a truce of sorts between the billionaire and his best friend. Defeat Thanos, using everyone they had. The Earth and everything on it was at stake. He knew better than to hope that the line they’d been toeing would stay status quo.

“I am not a weapon,” Bucky growled, grey eyes holding Tony’s, refusing to back down. Steve held his breath, not sure if he was going to have to step in.

Tony’s jaw ticked, Steve could almost hear him grinding his teeth, but he turned back to Steve. “She needs to stay in the med ward. The less people know about her, the better. You should radio Barton, make sure when they land in Wakanda that they know to keep it hush.”

Steve nodded, stepping aside so Tony could leave. Bruce reached up and patted Steve’s shoulder as he passed, and he had to wonder if that was some kind of unofficial apology for Tony’s behavior. Steve understood, but it did little to help ease the situation. It was fraught, and messy, and some days it was easier than others.

At least Tony hadn’t argued against Bucky staying here, or going on missions, or being in the same room. But that weight was always there and Steve felt it on his shoulders, as he did with almost everything.

Sighing, he turned toward the only other person in the room, holding his hand out toward Bucky. He watched those slate eyes he knew so well soften, no longer on edge or readying for a battle. Bucky took his hand and Steve pulled the other man against his chest, taking solace as he wrapped his arms around him. “I didn’t think we’d be able to pull it off.”

“Almost didn’t,” Bucky mumbled against Steve’s neck. He took a deep breath - cedar and musk and Steve - and pulled back so he could press his lips to Steve’s, soft, softer than he did almost anything else. “Seeing that hand wrapped around your throat…”

Steve nodded, the memory of that moment washing over him again. He’d seen death over and over, but looking in Thanos’ eyes was like looking the reaper in the face. He’d begun to say his goodbyes in his head, and then there’d been a blast and he’d been tossed aside, like a rag doll, like he was inconsequential, like it was all just a game.

He supposed it was to Thanos, just another game where he already knew the outcome and was just going through the motions.

But he’d lost. By some miracle that none of them understood yet, Thanos had lost and they’d won the day.

Steve pulled Bucky toward him again, the press of his lips familiar and comforting, sighing against the other man’s mouth as the exhaustion began to set in. “I might sleep for a week,” he whispered against Bucky’s lips, not ready to pull back just yet.

“Liar,” came the gravelly response, and Steve smiled at the affection in Bucky’s tone.

“Gotta call Barton. Make sure the team knows that our savior is alive and well.”

“Nat?”

“Just along for the ride. Sam and Wanda are going to stay, help T’Challa.” Bucky nodded, taking a step back, and Steve watched as some of the guard returned to his eyes, the look he carried when it wasn’t just them. This was a Bucky no one else got to see. All they saw was the soldier, but Steve knew he was so much more.

Steve took a moment to look at Bucky, just drinking him in, knowing that they’d survived. Against all the odds, his goodbyes had faded into nothing, unsaid and unneeded. He was grateful, thankful. He smiled and started for the door.

“Steve?”

He stopped and turned to look at Bucky. There was something in the other man’s voice that he couldn’t place. “Yeah?”

“What do we do if she is dangerous?”

There was a long silence. It was ended by Steve’s voice, uncertain and tired. “I don’t know, Buck. I don’t know.”

Chapter 2: Slip

Chapter Text

When Bruce Banner had said he was going to run tests, Darcy had expected normal things. X-Rays. MRIs. CT scans. Lots of other medical buzzwords she’d heard while watching reruns of Grey’s Anatomy. Somehow she hadn’t realized how many tests there were out there. She’d been poked, and prodded, and shoved in boxes that made banging noises, and then more blood had been taken.

She’d tried to draw the line at giving a stool and urine sample, but after some heavy glares from Jane, she’d acquiesced.

After three days of sitting around, punctuated by the occasional nap and yet another vial of her blood being taken, she was sitting on the horrible uncomfortable cot, feet swinging, as people filed into the room. Darcy recognized them all, even if she hadn’t actually talked to any of them.

Bruce Banner aka ‘I get angry and turn green and smash things for fun’ guy.

Tony Stark, a sarcastic asshole who was slowly growing on her.

Steve Rogers, Mr. Apple Pie himself.

Bucky Barnes, (previous?) assassin and the Captain’s best friend.

Jane and Thor were standing nearby, though they’d been careful to keep their distance. In fact, through the whole battery of tests that had been done on her, she’d not come in physical contact with anyone. It’s not like she was normally getting felt up by people all day long, but now that she’d realized it, she realized how horrible she felt about it. Was this how it was going to be all the time? Had Jane really been the last person she’d ever touch?

f*ck, that’s pretty f*cking pathetic.

Darcy tried not to react when she cast glances around the room at everyone. Bruce and Tony looked like they were here for the science, as was Jane. Thor was smiling at her softly, but that seemed pretty normal. While others had ‘Resting Bitch Face’, the Norse god had ‘I’m Really Handsome and People Like Me’ face.

Steve had taken a seat at the small table, gaze flicking up to look at the screens as Tony and Bruce arranged them so everyone could see. She supposed it should feel weird, knowing that that was her brain and body up on the screens, but she was doing a nice job of detaching herself, just enough so she didn’t start freaking out. Darcy wasn’t sure what to expect, wondering if they’d called everyone in on purpose, or if everyone had just wanted to hear it and piled into the room with morbid fascination.

Of all the people in the room, the only one that really put her on edge was the man behind Steve. Something about his grey eyes seemed tense, like he was waiting for something to happen. Was something going to happen? She had no f*cking clue.

Bruce turned and gave a twitch of a smile. He started without preamble. “We’ve run every test we could think of, and as far as her body is concerned, Ms. Lewis is a healthy 29-year-old. Her blood pressure is normal, every scan came back negative for any abnormal bodily fluctuation, she runs a steady 98.3 degrees and does not appear to have any latent health anomalies.”

“Except for this,” Tony said, gesturing toward one of the screens. He swiped his hand in the air and brought the image so it was sitting in the middle of the group. Darcy leaned forward, squinting at it. All she could see was a bunch of blue swiggles. Tony pointed and a part of the swiggle lit up orange.

“We’ve gone further and done an experimental gene map -”

“You have access to a program that can map the human genome in three days?” Darcy rolled her eyes as Jane’s ears perked and she looked toward Bruce and Tony with interest.

“It’s experimental,” Bruce reiterated.

“But yes,” Tony said, a satisfied smile on his face. “And that little bit, right there? That bit shouldn’t be there.”

Jane took another step toward the tech, eyes pouring over the image. “You’re suggesting she has another gene?”

“Yes. Something extra. Something else.” Tony closed the triangle, leaving him, Bruce and Jane with their backs to the rest of the room. Darcy needed to get friends who weren’t huge science nerds, as not understanding what they were talking about was pretty annoying.

“It’s fascinating. Not only is it a genetic anomaly, it appears that it was passed down on her maternal side.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, the eyes in the room turning toward him, “maybe I’m misunderstanding, but are you saying that her DNA is different than ours?” He watched Bruce’s chin dip slightly. “Or different than most of ours?”

Bruce nodded. “There is a marked difference between our genes and Ms. Lewis’ genes.”

Darcy’s eyebrows rose toward her hairline and her feet stopped swinging, their conversation finally making all the connections in her brain. “Whoa whoa whoa. Slow down. Pump the breaks. You’re saying I have alien DNA? That’s so f*cking messed up!”

Tony pointed in her direction. “Nobody said alien.”

She co*cked her head to the side as her eyes narrowed slightly at Tony. “Somebody said alien.”

“Nobody said alien.”

Darcy held her slightly glowing hands in front of her, eyes wide and innocent as she looked at him. “Fine, jeez, no one said alien. But no one said human either.” She turned to Bruce, who was still looking at whatever part of her body was currently displayed in the projection hovering in the air. “So what’s the what, doc? Give it to me straight.”

“As I’ve said, Ms. Lewis -”

She gave him a look. He’d been sticking needles in her for days now, and she’d reminded him over and over that he could use her first name. “Call me Darcy, please. Ms. Lewis was an egg donor who apparently birthed an alien!”

She smirked to herself when Tony threw up his hands and turned his back in frustration. She saw Jane roll her eyes in her peripheral vision; Darcy’d always been good at pushing people’s buttons, it wasn’t her fault that Tony Stark had so many. She could see him start bleeding colors, but shook her head. Not now, synthesizer colors, or whatever it was Jane called you!

Steve’s eyes flicked down toward the floor, doing his best to hide his smile behind his hand. He’d been known to get under Tony’s skin from time to time, but he’d done his best not to outright bait the man. It seemed like Darcy hadn’t learned that lesson yet. Or, she was enjoying it and doing it on purpose. Either way, he was amused.

Bruce cleared his throat and Darcy’s hazel eyes swung back to him. “Your DNA is different than a full human’s, yes, but the term ‘alien’ means something not of this earth and you are of this earth. You’re just not fully human. And it seems that’s why you were able to absorb the gem.”

Darcy blinked at Bruce, uncertain what he meant. “So I’m… what? Some sorta freak of nature?”

“A mutant,” Jane said, a bit too happily. Darcy glared at her friend and Jane had the grace to give her a guilty smile, “but a nice one?”

Darcy frowned at the astrophysicist. As if she needed another reason to feel self-conscious. “No one likes being called a mutant.”

“There are worse things to be called.”

Bucky hadn’t meant to comment out loud, and he bristled when the eyes in the room turned toward him. He pushed off the wall, keeping his arms crossed over his chest. Steve gave him a small smile, but Bucky turned his attention to the subject in question. She was staring at him with an odd look on her face, like she was looking through him.

Once again the man with the metal arm, with all his dark swirling colors, became the focus of the attention in the room, and Darcy watched everyone light up as they looked at him. Almost everyone was filtered a light brown and, somehow, she knew that that meant. They were inquisitive, or questioning. Tony Stark was bathed in a sea of black as he regarded the other man (interesting). Steve Rogers, who had been sitting quietly in front of Barnes and looking unnecessarily hot (in her opinion), continued with his brilliant gold glow, a heavy line of cobalt connecting the two men.

Darcy tried to digest what Bruce had said about her: she had some kind of mutation in her DNA (not alien) and that’s why she hadn’t turned crispy after grabbing the stone. It didn’t really explain why she was seeing colors, or if she could expect any other surprise powers down the road. And really, the only man who would know anything was standing to her right. She shook her head, the colors bleeding from her vision until she was looking up at Thor.

“Thor, Big Guy, help me out.” Darcy turned to the Norse god, her eyes imploring him for some good news. “What’s the what? This gem? What’s it do?”

“It’s the Soul gem,” he offered, giving her a tight smile, “arguably the most powerful of the infinity stones. The ability to see souls, to steal them, to trap them.” Thor frowned, looking like he didn’t want to explain further. At Darcy’s look, he continued. “To have the soul gem is to control souls. Or, depending upon the wielder, destroy them.”

Darcy looked up at Thor, into his blue golden retriever eyes, and was struck dumb. She tried repeating his words over, letting them roll around in her head, trying to make them make sense. But it was impossible.

Control souls? Trap souls? Destroy souls!? No. f*ck. No. No no no! That’s not... It wasn’t possible… she couldn’t…

Bucky could see it as it happened. He watched her eyes widen, her pupils dilate. Her skin flushed, and her full lips parted as her breath sped up. He pushed off the wall, tensing. He knew what came next.

Her heart started to thunder in her ears and she felt her skin break into a cold sweat. The room was spinning and her tongue was suddenly too big for her mouth, she couldn’t swallow around it. Darcy couldn’t catch her breath, her hands convulsing into fists in the thin medical-grade blanket beneath her as she reeled and cartwheeled closer to the edge.

This is too much, this is all too much. I just wanted to save everyone. I can’t handle this. I don’t want this. “f*ck, I’m gonna be sick.”

Bucky watched her swallow hard, voice sounding dry. His grey eyes flicked from face to face. The scientist that was attached to the woman’s side reached for her, but Thor pulled her back. No one appeared to have any plan on how to actually help her, but he waited, watching her face, watching her eyes begin to roll back into her head.

“We should -”

“No! Don’t touch her! We don’t know -”

“We can’t just let her -”

Still, nobody moved toward her. Bucky took a deep breath, his muscles tensing. She was going to pass out, possibly hurt herself, and they were all just standing there, arguing what to do. Steve glanced over at him, almost as if he knew what he was about to do.

“Hey. Hey! Don’t -”

Bucky pushed past Thor and knelt in front of the raven-haired woman. She was looking at him but he knew she didn’t see her. The fingers of his prosthetic flexed in the air before he pressed his palm against the center of her chest. It almost spanned the width from clavicle to clavicle and he pushed, hard enough for it to pull her out of the tailspin.

Darcy blinked, her vision in dizzying colored streamers that seemed to bleed and tumble together. Black spots danced at the edge of her vision, growing bigger and bigger. She was going to get lost in all that inky blackness, and part of her knew it would be bad, losing and giving in to the darkness, but she didn’t know how to fight it.

Then, through everything, she felt a firm hand press against her sternum. “I’m gonna pass out,” she groaned, head swaying slightly.

Bucky pressed harder. He hadn’t been turned to ash like Thanos by touching her, so that was something. Nobody was yelling at him anymore, either. Her eyes had gone amber, and he stared into their glow. “No, you’re having a panic attack.”

A panic attack. She could pull and destroy souls at will. That deserved a little panic. A lot of panic. It deserved all the panic. “‘s a bad one.”

“Breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Do it. In through your nose.”

Darcy shook her head, swallowing hard, eyes closed. “Can’t. Too much, ‘s too much. I’m not -”

Bucky pressed again, more weight, more pressure. “Doesn’t matter what you are, matters what you do. And right now you need to take a breath in through your nose and push it out your mouth.”

It took her another moment before she could comply, but finally Darcy was able to suck a deep breath in through her nose and let it out through her mouth, lips shaking with the effort. Tears had started to leak at the corners of her eyes and she felt them slide free, hot and itchy on her skin. The hand that was pressed to her chest moved so it was gripping her shoulder.

Strong.

Safe.

An anchor.

Bucky felt her chest rising and falling under his hand, her shoulders shaking, chin trembling. “Do it again. In. Out. Again.” He stayed there, kneeling in front of her, hand on her shoulder, able to see the amber still glowing behind her eyelids when they closed.

As she sat there, eyes screwed shut, focusing on her breathing and following the man’s commands, Darcy was certain she’d never done anything this monumentally stupid. She knew she could be a bit impulsive but this was on a whole new level. If she’d have known what would happen when she touched that stone, would she have?

Maybe. Probably. Yes. f*ck, yes, I would. Damn it.

Not knowing how much time had passed while she’d made an embarrassment of herself, Darcy opened her eyes, only seeing colors but knowing who was there before she saw his face. Eventually the swirl of hues faded and she was left looking into Barnes’ blue-grey eyes. His face was only inches away, just an arm's length between them. Maybe Jane wouldn’t be the last person that’d ever touch her. Goody. “You probably shouldn't touch me, soldier.”

Bucky watched as she refilled her eyes, the sarcastic tone and attitude he’d pegged as her ‘normal’ mode returning. He pulled his hand from her shoulder, flexing the metal fingers where she could see them. “Figured I was pretty safe, all things considered.”

The laugh that broke free from her chest was breathless, and Darcy was happy she hadn’t embarrassed herself any further by vomiting or fainting. She tore her gaze from Barnes’ face (his eyes gave Steve’s a run for the money) and looked over his shoulder. Steve Rogers, the man whose blue eyes she’d just been comparing Barnes’ to, was standing just behind him, worry and concern in his eyes. Not for her, she realized, but for the man who’d touched her.

And yet, Barnes’d touched her. Even when everyone had warned him not to.

Smiling softly, Darcy let out a shaky breath, gaze flicking to Barnes’ face once more. “You thinking of signing up for Team Stupid? We have a few openings.”

Steve let out the breath he’d be holding. He knew now that Bucky hadn’t been in any real danger, only touching Darcy with his prosthetic, but when Bucky had darted forward, Steve’s heart had stopped in his chest. He’d been less than three seconds from jumping forward himself, but watching Bucky get there first and not knowing if it was safe had been terrifying.

“Are you kidding?” Steve said, reaching out to squeeze Bucky’s shoulder. “The jerk’s been training his whole life for that unit.”

Darcy looked up at Steve’s words, watching as he squeezed Barnes’ shoulder with familiarity and warmth, the worry softening in his eyes, his lips turning up in an amused grin. She got it, now, the cobalt that ran between Barnes and Steve. She smiled as she watched them interact with each other.

Bucky stood when he was sure her pulse had slowed and her breathing had returned to normal. He looked over at Steve, able to watch the last bit of tension drain from the blond’s eyes. “After you, punk.”

Darcy watched their interplay with curiosity, their colors swirling and mixing. Finally, when she was just about to get dizzy again, she smiled and waved her hand at both of them. “Alright, alright. Stop fighting over me. You’ve both made the team.”

She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw the tiniest hint of a grin ghost onto Bucky’s lips. She knew there were better ways to put it, but as she looked up at the both of them, light and dark, crimson and gold, the only phrase that came to mind was ‘stupid hot’.

“Hey, your hands aren’t glowing anymore.”

Darcy blinked, her attention pulled from the men in front of her, directing her eyes toward Jane. “Huh?” She held her hands in front of her. Gone was the orange glow just beneath her pale skin. “Well, will you look at that.”

Bruce cleared his throat, nodding toward Darcy as Bucky and Steve took a step back. “Maybe you get some rest and we start again tomorrow?”

She could already feel the exhaustion setting into her bones, her eyelids feeling like hundred-pound weights. Passing out sounded like a great plan. She held up a hand and pointed in Bruce’s direction. “Yes. That.”

Technically they were already in her bedroom, and she didn’t really have the energy to stay vertical until they all left. Darcy laid back on the cot, still an uncomfortable little bitch of furniture, but being exactly what she needed.

Jane and Thor crossed the room and stood next to Bruce, the three of them having a hushed conversation. Bucky turned and left the room, feeling Steve at his back. There was a third set of footsteps behind them, though, and Bucky knew who it was before he’d opened his mouth.

“What the hell was that?”

Steve closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he turned around to see a very angry Tony Stark stalking toward them. “Tony -”

“We don’t know what she can do yet! Less than a week ago she killed what was supposedly the most evil creature in the galaxy and you just grab her without thinking?”

Bucky’s face was a mask, not raising his voice to match Tony’s. “I did think. She was going to pass out. Someone had to do something.”

“She was in the med ward. If we’d needed to, we’d have sedated her.”

“I helped her,” Bucky said, a bit more forcefully.

“And she could have killed you!”

Steve listened as Tony’s shout echoed up and down the hallway. He waited for Tony to speak again, but it appeared that he’d surprised even himself.

“Isn’t that what you want?” Bucky could feel when Steve’s eyes flicked to look at him. Bucky was being careful, keeping any emotion out of his face, out of his voice. He watched a wave of emotions flow behind Tony’s eyes, the man opening his mouth several times only to close it, a war of ideas battling in his head.

“Barnes, If you’re jonesing to play chicken when the grim reaper, be my guest, but don’t put your death on her,” Tony spat, hand gesturing at the door to the medical ward. “If she’d have killed you, how do you think that’d make her feel? ‘Not peachy’ is my guess. Maybe next time you keep your metal hand to yourself.”

He left them in the hallway. The silence felt heavy, and Steve could practically hear Bucky’s mind whirling with thoughts. “Buck -”

“Steve…” Bucky sighed, shaking his head. “Just leave it.”

“Leave it?” Steve sped up until he was walking side by side with Bucky, not sure where they were headed, but not willing to just drop it. “Tony’s right. She could have killed you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“And you don’t know she couldn’t. Why? Why risk it?” He lowered his voice as they passed a few people milling in the halls. They looked up at the two of them and suddenly had somewhere to be, all but scurrying out of sight.

Bucky didn’t want to do this here. There were too many people looking in their direction and there was already enough talk about the two of them among the staff and soldiers. Steve didn’t seem to want to let it go, though, so Bucky lowered his voice, knowing the blond’s hearing was sharp enough to make out the words.

“We work with a lot of people who could hurt someone. Banner. Vision. Wanda. Just because they could doesn’t mean they will.”

“Yes, but most of them have a handle on their abilities. She’s new. We have no idea what to expect.”

They rounded a corner, almost running into a man holding a stack of paper. Bucky stopped him with a hand on his arm, and he watched at the man’s eyes widened in surprise, and the tiniest bit in fear. “Oh, Jesus, I’m sorry. I’ll just…”

Bucky stepped around him with a frown, heading toward the elevators. He pressed the button and crossed his arms over his chest. Steve stood next to him, silent for a moment. The ‘ding’ of the elevator was pleasant and Bucky was glad that the car was empty. As the door hushed closed, he counted in his head. One. Two. Thr- He smiled softly when Steve started speaking again, just like he knew he would.

“What Thor said, about the stone’s power... we really don’t know enough. I just don’t like the idea of you getting hurt.” When Bucky’s eyes swung over to look at him, Steve could see the disbelief in his eyes. “I know. Come on, Bucky, you know what I mean.”

The elevator doors opened and it only took a few steps to reach their room. Bucky lifted his right hand and pressed his thumb to the lock. He heard it turn over with a metallic click, pushing inside. The room was neat, modern, but the few personal touches made it feel more like a home. A threadbare quilt thrown over the bed. A still life Steve had drawn hung on a wall. A picture of the two of them before the war, obviously taken out of a history book, next to a compass with a picture of Peggy Carter displayed inside.

Bucky crossed to the large armoire and opened it, display racks carefully arranged inside. He slowly started removing the weapons that were covering his body.

Steve watched him remove knife after knife from his person, treating each one carefully, almost lovingly. It was sweet, and he’d have told Bucky as much but he didn’t feel like being glared at anymore than he already was. “I’m just saying we need to take it slow. For her sake, too. I don’t want to push her too much too quick.”

“All I did was make it so she didn’t pass out,” Bucky finally said, resignation in his voice as he turned toward Steve. “I would have done it for anyone.” At Steve’s look, a smirk climbed onto Bucky’s lips. “Almost anyone.”

Steve rolled his eyes, sitting on the edge of their bed, his hand running over the patchwork of the quilt. “Would you have? If it was someone else?” He didn’t look up at Bucky right away, not sure he wanted to show what was running through his head. He’d known, growing up, what kind of woman Bucky preferred. Steve himself shared most of the same preferences. Curvy, dark hair, full lips. It hadn’t gone unnoticed that Darcy Lewis ticked a lot of the boxes they both found mutually attractive.

“Steve…” Bucky watched as Steve sighed then finally flicked those blue eyes toward him. He didn’t like the uncertainty in his lover’s gaze. He crossed the floor and stood in front of Steve, resting both of his hands on the blond’s shoulders. “She reminds me of you, alright? Sarcastic. Witty. More than happy to do something stupid if she thinks it’s the right thing to do. A little punk, just like you.”

Lifting his hands, Steve pulled Bucky closer by his hips, looking up at Bucky through his lashes. “It was brave, what you did.”

Bucky smirked down at him, shaking his head. He knocked against Steve’s chin with his finger, angling his mouth until their lips pressed together, soft and sweet. His voice was a whisper against Steve’s mouth. “If you think I didn’t see your muscles tensing to do the exact same thing, think again.” Bucky took a step back, giving Steve a knowing smirk.

Steve was left on the bed, looking at Bucky, trying his best not to look too guilty. “I wasn’t sure if I was -”

“Yes, you were.”

Sighing, Steve couldn’t help the rueful smile that he shot toward Bucky. “Yeah, I was.”

“See? What did I say? Willing to do stupid things.” Bucky grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted it over his head.

He watched as Steve’s eyes focused on him, his face losing the humor and filling with heat. He took his time, moving slow, feeling Steve’s eyes on his body as he slowly removed the rest of his weapons and holsters, until he was left standing there in only red boxer briefs.

“I’m going to take a shower. If you’re ready to do something smart, you could join me.”

Steve stood, lips slanting as he looked at his lover, the long lines of his body, the planes of his stomach, knowing the dips and curves intimately. “Not sure if I know how to be smart.”

Bucky lost the boxers in one motion, smirking as Steve’s pupils dilated and his lips parted. He took a step forward, reaching out to tug Steve toward him. “I can teach you.”

“Wake up, Buttercup.”

Darcy groaned, shoving her face further into the pillow. “Nnghhgg.” When the cot started rocking back and forth, she reached out blindly with her arm toward the person who was disrupting her sleep.

“Fine, if you don’t want someone delivering you breakfast in bed...”

At the mention of food, Darcy’s stomach growled angrily, reminding her that she hadn’t really eaten anything in the last few days because of the tests they’d been running and the whole can destroy souls thing stealing what appetite she’d had. Apparently she’d gotten her taste for food back, though, and she pushed her curls back from her head as she squinted at Tony and the tray he held. “Don’t you have robots that could do that?”

“Oh, them?” Tony glanced over his shoulder at the robots in question. Dum-E and U were looking in their direction and made sounds of alertness. “Don’t let them fool you. They’re pretty useless.”

Darcy frowned as she sat up. “Then why do you keep them?”

“Because they’re my…” Darcy watched him pause, trying to come up with an adjective that described them. She’d almost thought he was about to say ‘friends’ but she couldn’t be sure. “They’re mine, and I made them, and they’ve earned it. Forget about them. Eat.”

She grabbed the tray when he held it out, setting it in her lap as he grabbed a stool and wheeled himself beside the bed. “PB&J?”

Tony shrugged, “figured if you had a nut allergy we’d have seen it pop up during the tests. You saying it’s not good? Don’t eat it then.”

Darcy growled and held onto it tightly when he feigned like he was going to take it back. “Hey! It’s fine. Just asking.” She bit into the sandwich, surprised to find he’d use peach preserves instead of the traditional grape, but she was more than happy she had food of any kind. “Mohrr tesths?” Tony wheeled back with a frown, grabbing a glass of milk he’d left on the table and holding it out to her.

“Maybe this time with less peanut butter?”

Rolling her eyes, Darcy washed down the bite, tongue clicking after she’d swallowed. “I asked if you still have some more tests to run.”

“Yeah. We just want to cover all our bases. Literally. This is our base of operations and we’d appreciated you not destroying it, if possible.”

“It’s not on my to-do list at this moment.”

Tony leaned forward, stealing a potato chip from her plate and popping it in his mouth, ignoring her glare. “Pretty sure your plans are shot to sh*t, kiddo, unless you meant to break down yesterday.”

“You liked that?” Darcy asked sarcastically around her sandwich.

“Mmm, not really. But I get it. Dealing with heavy stuff. Sometimes it’s too much.”

Darcy chewed as she looked at him. She didn’t know him all that well, but he looked tired. There were dark bags under Tony’s eyes, but she supposed that was to be expected. Less than a week ago there was a high probability that the entire planet was going to be destroyed. Seemed like a pretty legit reason to lose a few hours of sleep.

She watched from the corner of her vision as the colors began to bleed in all around her. Her normal eyesight narrowed until it was nothing but a pinprick of light, the synthesizer (she really needed to ask Jane what she’d called it again) taking over. Darcy co*cked her head to the side. It was off, looking at Tony. Out of all the people she’d seen with this ability, his was the most chaotic. There were parts of him that were black, a jet ebony that almost shined a bit blue or purple. Like an oil slick. And mixed in all that oil was a current of silver. Metal. Fitting, seeing what he called himself.

Everything started to tumble together the longer she stared at him, the sandwich in her hand forgotten. She closed her eyes and focused her breathing. She’d spent too long there, where the colors lived, and it started to make her dizzy.

“Hey, Lewis. Take a deep breath.”

He was closer to her, she could tell in the nearness of his voice, but she was too afraid to open her eyes.

“Lewis, what’s going on? Talk to me. Tell me what you see.”

“Colors.”

“Yeah, I get that. What colors? Be specific.”

“Lotta black.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s good. Very descriptive. Tell me something else.”

“You’re like oil.”

Darcy felt warmth on both sides of her face. Nothing was touching her skin, but she could tell something was there, hovering. It seemed to help, the heat, and she focused on it instead of the colors floating in front of her.

“Are we talking, like, ‘baby oil wrestling’ oil? Or something more industrial?”

The laugh in her chest made her swallow hard. “I really didn’t need to picture you covered in baby oil, Stark.”

“Too bad, it’s in there now. So I’m black like oil. Got it. Anything else?”

“What are you doing to my face?”

“Open your eyes and take a look.”

Darcy didn’t want to open her eyes, didn’t want to be assaulted by the invasion of jewel tones that only seemed to make her nauseous. She heard the huff of air from Tony when she didn’t comply immediately. “You’re an ass, you know that?”

“It might have come up in conversations once or twice, yeah.”

She let out a sigh and squinted one eye open. Darcy’s eyes both flew open when she saw Tony right there, his hands hovering less than an inch from her cheeks. “Ummm…” Darcy watched as he pulled his hands back, rubbed them together vigorously, then placed them on either side of her head. She felt the heat from them, even though they weren’t actually touching her.

“When my anxiety got really bad, I had to ground myself. Or, that’s what the therapist told me. Over and over. Until I finally listened. Eventually. Hopefully it’ll take you less time than it took me.” She watched as he repeated the motion, more heat transferring from his hands to her cheeks. “Human contact was something I did without for a long time. I was more comfortable around machines, things I could take apart and put back together.”

“Like your useless robots?”

“Hey,” Tony took his hands back, glaring softly at her, “I’m the only one that gets to call them useless.”

Darcy grinned at him, watching as he rolled his eyes and put his hands back.

“I’m not one to admit my faults.” Darcy’s eyes widened dramatically in faux shock at his words. “Shut up and listen. I waited too long to ask for help when I needed it, but once we get you squared away, and we will, you should see somebody. We have several people on staff now.”

Darcy sighed, her eyes falling closed, focusing on the warmth he was giving her. “And the thing you're doing with your hands? What's that supposed to do?”

“Figured it's the closest you’ll get to actual human contact until we know for sure you’re not going to bamf someone into ash.”

Opening hers, she looked into his brown eyes, and Darcy couldn't help but wonder what made him so brash, especially when it looked like he had some sort of chewy center hidden under all that bravado and ego. Hidden way deep, like Mines of Moria deep, like fish are see through and attract food by bioluminescence deep.

Daddy issues, probably. Me too, Buddy. Me too. “Not sure there’s a lot of people out there that have shared experiences like mine.”

“You think you’re the only person who’s done something ridiculously stupid? Think again, cupcake. ‘Stupid’ kind of comes with the job description.”

She watched him rub his hands together again, then smiled when he held them over the front of her face, hiding her from sight. “I feel... bigger than normal.”

“Nonsense. You’ve barely eaten anything for days.” At her glare he blinked. “Oh. Right. The whole ‘souls’ thing. Feel like something is inside you? Kinda scares you?” She paused, but eventually nodded. “You do realize you know a person who literally has something inside him, right? Bruce’s spent a lot of time learning to quiet the feelings inside of him. You might want to give him a listen.”

Darcy hummed, thinking about Tony’s suggestion. She hadn’t found Bruce Banner to be very talkative, he was kind of anti talkative, really. She’d wear him down, though. Just like she’d worn down Jane. And Selvig. Give her a few days and she’d weasel her way in. “So what comes next?”

“Are you asking for desert?”

She was getting used to giving him The Face. Was it his goal to exasperate everyone around him? And why did it seem so familiar? Because you do the exact same f*cking thing, Darcy thought with a sigh.

“It’s not that I don’t love this uncomfortable ass cot, or the steady whiring noises that come from the machines, but I’d love to get out of the med ward at some point. Then you wouldn’t have to bring me breakfast in bed.”

Tony hummed. “I’ll take that under advisem*nt. Now finish your food and we’ll get these next tests underway.”

Chapter 3: Old Scars

Chapter Text

Three days had passed. Darcy’d been at the Avengers Compound for almost two weeks now and she hadn’t seen anything outside the med ward. She hadn’t seen Jane since Monday (she was off sciencing), and Darcy was beginning to feel adrift without her best friend. Yeah, she was getting a lot of facetime with Tony and Bruce as they put her through a battery of tests, but she didn’t know them, and she’d hesitate to call them friends. Maybe one day, when they were done collecting her blood like some sort of polite nurse vampires.

Without the steady guidance and encouragement from her astrophysicist, Darcy was bored, and when Darcy was bored her anxiety got the better of her. Her thoughts turned dark, wondering if she’d ever be allowed to leave this place. Was this it? Was this room going to be one of the only places she’d see for the rest of her life? It was a bit melodramatic perhaps, but the fear that one stupid thing she’d done would alter the trajectory of her entire life left her scared, and frustrated, and stressed.

Tony and Bruce had humored her when she’d tried explaining the wavy colors that seemed to be everywhere, showing up at random times, making her dizzy and off kilter. She had to really focus to get them to go away, and even then it’d take a while for them to fade. Despite test after test, they’d found nothing wrong with her eyes. Her new ‘ability’ was a little bit of bullsh*t, in her opinion, and she was getting pissed off about everything.

Darcy watched Tony and Bruce argue over her latest blood work and brain scans, throwing out medical jargon that she couldn’t follow and had no desire to learn or understand. She leaned back in her spinning office chair, directing her closed eyes upward. It didn’t matter if she had her eyes closed or not, she could still see the vibrant paints. They were everywhere and she realized that, if asked, she’d be able to point out where everyone was on a schematic map of the building.

Soul gem, indeed. She could see all of them, dark and light, heavy and weightless, drifting through space. Just when she thought she’d start getting dizzy and begin to feel the overwhelming truth of it all, she saw a shiny gold make its way into the room, taking up the seat next to her and catching her attention.

Darcy opened her eyes, glad when the colors faded so she could see his handsome face. She grinned at him. “Captain.”

Steve gave her a small smile at the moniker, his chin dipping slightly in her direction. “You can call me Steve, Darcy.”

f*ck, his eyes are the perfect shade of blue. There oughta be a law. “Don’t know you well enough to call you Steve, Captain.”

Steve nodded his head in Tony and Bruce’s direction but kept his eyes on her. “From our debrief this morning it looks like we’ll get the chance to change that. They’re already setting up a permanent suite for you.” He watched a wave of annoyance crest on her face, almost able to watch her brain turn over his words before her polite smile vanished and a glare took its place.

Mother. f*cker. Darcy’s face hardened as she spun toward Tony and Bruce, their backs to her as they considered the latest batch of results. “Oi! So it looks like this vacation is now becoming a staycation? You assholes didn’t think to let me know that?”

Their attentions were pulled from the screens at her words. Bruce at least had the wherewithal to look guilty, his colors flashing with it as his eyes darted away them back toward her. Tony’s colors (aura? She supposed she’d need to think of a term for the swirls that surrounded everyone...) had stayed exactly the same and a overconfident smug look had lifted his lips.

“Do you know what the full extent of your powers are?”

Darcy’s frown deepened at Tony’s question. “No.”

“Do we know what the full extent of your powers are?”

What a dick. “Not unless you’ve been keeping that from me, too.”

“Are you certain you’d not be a threat to the general populace if you went back to the city?”

The glare was still on her face, but she took a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth, just like Barnes had instructed her days ago. Her teeth ground a bit before she answered Tony. “No. I’m not sure if I’m safe.”

“Great. Then you stay here with us and we figure out what to do about it. It’s for your safety as much as it is everyone else’s, champ.”

As much as she wanted to be angry at Tony for the matter-of-fact way he was talking, she (begrudgingly) admitted he was right. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt someone.

...though if Tony was looking to find holes cut into every pair of underwear he owned, all he had to do was keep calling her cupcake or kiddo or any other patronizing little nickname he thought of.

Sighing, Darcy slowly swiveled her chair back toward Steve, letting Tony and Bruce continue to bicker in the background. The pleasant grin on his face helped the glare and annoyance fade from hers, and she was left looking at Steve with a hopeful smile. “So I haven’t really gotten a chance to see the compound, outside of the sparsely decorated medical ward. Mind showing a girl around? Give her the five-cent tour?”

Steve nodded, standing up and giving her a warm smile. “Of course.”

The Avengers compound was just that: a compound. The buildings were connected by hallways, bright light streaming in from every window. Darcy knew jack sh*t about safety, but she couldn’t help but think that all the glass was a bad idea if someone wanted to attack. When she paid more attention, however, she caught a sheen of blue in her peripheral vision. Maybe it wasn’t normal glass after all. Whatever it was, it added an element of light to the whole place, making it seem less sterile and solider-y.

Darcy’d learned very early during the tour that there was no way she’d remember where everything was. There were training rooms, communal kitchens, lounges, game rooms, a basketball court, a locker room complete with saunas and pools, weight rooms (pffft like she’d ever use them), a headquarters for communications… It was sprawling, and giant, and a lot.

Steve had watched the reality of everything dawn in Darcy’s eyes over the course of the hour it took to show her the whole compound. He remembered, intimately, what it’d felt like entering a whole new world after he’d been pulled from the arctic ice, and he empathized with the inundation of information she was experiencing. “It can be overwhelming, I know. Tony’s A.I., Friday, is getting an update for you. Just call out and she’ll get you where you need to go.”

A disembodied voice leading her around? Yeah. That didn’t remind Darcy of 2001: A Space Odyssey at all. At the first mention of Dave, she was out. “Fancy,” she said finally, dragging her feet a bit.

It seemed like the tour was coming to an end, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to stop looking at Steve Rogers’ polite smiles. She knew her women’s studies professor would criticize her for flipping the male gaze and objectifying Steve, but she couldn’t help it. Mr. Apple Pie was attractive as hell and she was a weak, superficial person unable to look away from something so pretty. Really, it’d be a disservice to the scientists who’d created the serum not to appreciate their incredibly successful hard work.

Steve slowed to a stop, pointing to a nondescript door on their right. They were careful in the housing wing not to note whose room was whose. If someone did attack the compound, they didn’t want to make it easier to find targets. “This is you. The door opens to your thumbprint. Only a handful of people have access other than you, and none of them will use it for anything other than an emergency.”

Darcy looked down at her feet, scuffing the ground with her toe. “That include you?” Her eyes flicked up for his answer. The colors stole her vision for a second and she was left looking at his gold as it strobed the slightest bit.

A wry grin pulled at his lips, and Steve nodded softly. “I’m one of them, yeah.” Actually he and Tony were the only two with access to every room in the compound, including a few none of the others knew about.

“Good to know. And you’re...?” She pointed to a door directly across the hall from hers.

Steve’s eyes widened slightly before he could stop himself. Like hers, there was nothing special about the gray door with its biometric lock and knob. His head co*cked to the side as he looked at her, eyebrows raising a bit in her direction.

Darcy watched the questioning look fill his gaze - not suspicious, exactly, but surprised - and she waved her hand in the air, gesturing as she tried to figure out a non-creepy way to answer his unasked question. “Your color bleeds a bit brighter than everyone else’s, and it kind of oozes from that room most of all.”

He blinked at her. She was looking at him, earnest and the tiniest bit embarrassed. “Oh.” He couldn’t pretend to understand how Darcy’s abilities worked anymore than he could understand Wanda’s. Even after fighting Red Skull, and the Chitauri, and now Thanos, the mystical powers were still beyond him.

Darcy watched him digest her answer, surprised when it seemed like he’d just accepted it. She was just glad he didn’t look frightened or angry that she was able to see things he might not have wanted her to.

“It’s not everyday you can say you get to sleep next to Captain America and the Winter Soldier,” she joked.

A second later Darcy realized the slip of her tongue, her face falling, cheeks flaming with embarrassment. “I mean, live next door to Captain America and the Winter Soldier. Not sleep. Live.”

A grin curled onto Steve’s lips at her words and the verbal backpedaling she attempted. He watched pink spread across her face, endearingly embarrassed. He knew, intimately, what it felt like putting your foot in your mouth. It happened to him more than he liked to admit, especially around pretty women. He was almost positive Peggy had seen that same look on his face hundreds of times in the short span they’d known each other.

As he grinned, Darcy almost willed the floor to open up and swallow her whole. She thought better of it, though, and allowed the embarrassment to hang in the hallway. What if the floor actually did open up and swallow her? Until she knew for a fact that it wasn’t one of her powers, she’d rather be safe than sorry.

Steve reached up and scratched at the back of his neck, smiling at her softly. “Can I ask? How you knew Bucky and I…” The relationship between him and his best friend wasn’t a well known fact and he had to wonder how she’d put it together.

“Live together?” He nodded, and it looked as if he was grateful she hadn’t put it a different way, even though she could guess it wasn’t just living together they were doing. “I can see him standing on the other side of the door.”

Darcy heard a muffled swear from inside their room, not needing to see his swirl of color to know Barnes was less than pleased that she’d known he’d been standing there the whole time. Steve chuckled, low and amused, and she couldn’t help how her smile brightened at the sound.

She didn’t really want to, but she pointed at the door behind her. “Well, I’m going to check out my new digs. I’m sure I’ll see you around. Thanks for the tour.” She pressed her thumb to the door handle and heard the shift of metal as it unlocked.

It didn’t matter, and Steve knew that, but he still found himself asking anyway. “Darcy?”

f*ck, she really liked hearing her name on his lips. She turned back to him, a thrum of attraction curling in her belly at just the sight of him. “Hm?”

“If you don’t mind me asking… what color? I mean, when you look at me with -”

“My all-seeing eyes?” Steve nodded and graced her with another sheepish look that made her heart flip at his particular brand of handsome. “Gold,” she answered, “Bright. With a swatch of cobalt. You share the blue with Barnes.”

Gold and blue. Blue for Bucky. It surprised him; not that he shared a color with Bucky, because he shared everything of himself with his best friend, but that after all the darkness he’d come face to face with, there was still something about him that’d stayed bright.

Darcy watched a flurry of emotions pass behind Steve’s cornflower blue eyes. “Not quite the red, white, and blue you were expecting?” When his gaze flicked to her, she felt another twist in her belly when his expression finally landed on something like happiness.

“No,” Steve said with a smile, “but I like it better.”

Darcy smiled back. “Me too.”

“Do you and Thor have your own room?” When Jane’s eyes shifted over to look at her, Darcy could practically feel the heat rising into her friend’s cheeks.

“What? No! We each have our own room.”

Darcy co*cked her head to the side, leveling Jane with a glare. “But do you stay in your own room?” When Jane busied herself with putting another shirt on a hanger and placing it in Darcy’s closet, it was as good of an answer as anything. “Thor’s not here much, is he?”

“Not really,” Jane answered, voice small. “With the stones and Thanos, he’s been here more than normal.”

Darcy folded a pair of jeans, newly bought since all her other clothing had been destroyed, and laid them on the bed next to her. Her rooms at the compound were nice, but minimal. Sterile would have been a good descriptor, and Darcy couldn’t help but marvel at how this was now her home, at least for the foreseeable future.

So many things had changed in the last two weeks that she was dizzy with it all, and that was without the help of the colors that still randomly swirled in her vision. She was overwhelmed. Before her freshman year in high school, Darcy had never lived in one place for longer than six months. Her entire life had been chaos, living out of a suitcase - or a garbage bag when things had been worse - with no real structure she could lean on. That had changed when she turned fourteen, and then again when she’d gone to college.

She’d applied for the internship with Jane on a whim, surprised she’d been accepted since her grades hadn’t been stellar. She’d been told later that she was the only applicant, but it didn’t matter; she’d found Jane, and through Jane she’d found Erik. Then Thor had come and her entire life had been upended by mythology and superheroes. Then London. New York. Belgium. Siberia.

And then she’d grabbed a stone and upset everything again.

Darcy looked up when Jane came to stand next to the bed, looking down at her with concern. “Huh?”

“I asked if you’re doing alright. You look tired.”

Darcy laughed, shaking her head as she continued folding her clothes. “I’ve been poked and prodded more than a lab rat, I’m a mutant who can see colors and control souls, and my new home is a compound staffed by soldiers who don’t know me and run by superheroes that are afraid of me.”

Jane sat on the bed and Darcy watched her friend struggle internally. The astrophysicist had never really been a touchy-feely type person, but the way it was frustrating Jane that they couldn’t hug only made Darcy love her even more. “Jane -”

Darcy threw her hands up with a shout when a blanket from the bed was tossed over her body. She oofed when Jane threw herself on top of her, pinning her to the mattress. The blanket was itchy - she’d definitely have to get a softer one - but she could feel Jane’s arms wrap around her, hear Jane’s breathing in her ear as she was squeezed.

“You’re the stupidest person I’ve ever met, Darcy Anne Lewis, and I can’t believe you grabbed that stone. It was stupid, and brave, and I love you for it but damn it! You’re my best friend and next time warn me when you’re going to do something utterly insane so I can talk you out of it!”

Her friend’s voice had been muffled, but Darcy had caught the subtle inflections and change of tone in Jane’s voice. She slapped at the blanket until she could wrap her arms around Jane, the material keeping the scientist safe from any unknown and dangerous abilities that worked by touch.

“If I thought about things before I did them then they wouldn’t be stupid, now would they?”

She felt Jane laugh, resting her cheek against the bump she assumed was Darcy’s head. “Don’t try to use logic on me, Darcy. I’m better at it than you.”

“You’re also getting to second base. I know they’re fabulous but maybe you don’t want to nuzzle my boobs?” Darcy laughed loudly when she felt Jane pull her body back with a groan. Flipping the blanket from her face, Darcy grinned as she watched Jane’s cheeks tint with pink. “I love you too, nerd.”

Jane straightened the sweater she was wearing and stood up, crossing to the closet again, returning to the task of filling Darcy’s wardrobe with something other than an old t-shirt of Thor’s and a pair of scrub pants she’d stolen from the med ward. Darcy cheeks hurt from all the smiling she was doing, watching Jane as she moved around the room.

Darcy’d been in foster homes with plenty of other kids, but no one had ever felt like a sibling to her until she’d met Jane. And the fact that her last name was Foster? Too much irony for her to handle.

“You think they’d let me paint the walls in here?” At Jane’s raised eyebrow, Darcy shrugged her shoulders and started removing the tags from another pair of jeans. “I’m just saying, they probably have some awesome way to clean walls so if I was to make this is a little less ‘psycho ward grey’ and a bit more ‘rave in London purple’, I bet they’d be fine with it.”

“Sure, you go ahead and ask Tony Stark if you can paint the walls in his multi-million dollar complex. Let me know how that conversation goes.”

“Maybe I will,” Darcy said, ripping the tags from a soft pair of slippers.

She had no plan to ask Tony for anything. Easier to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission.

But, if she was honest, she probably wouldn’t beg for forgiveness, either.

Bucky glanced up when he saw a flash of ruby in his peripheral vision. He let the weight stack drop, making sure to stop it so it only made a soft click as it landed. He watched Natasha’s green eyes scan the weight room, an almost imperceptible expression crossing her face as they landed on him. She stalked toward him with purpose, and he sighed, grabbing for the towel on the bench, dabbing his brow with it.

Her voice was quiet as she stood in front of him, years of practice carrying her words to his ears and to his ears alone. “A little spider told me that you did something pretty rash the other day.”

Bucky shook his head, rising to his feet. He looked down at her, his face blank. “I helped stop a panic attack. That’s all.” When her lips pursed, he moved around her and the bench, heading for the men’s locker room. It surprised exactly no one that Natasha followed him in, ignoring the looks the other occupants were throwing their way.

As the regular soldiers grabbed their bags and scurried away from the Winter Soldier and the Black Widow, Bucky’s shoulders rose and fell again as he took a seat in front of his locker. “Пау́к!, I don’t need to explain to you -”

“I’m not talking about me, Barnes, and you know it.”

His grey eyes glanced up as she leaned forward, arms crossed over her chest, glaring down at him. “Nothing happened.”

“And if it had?”

“Natalia -”

“Don’t do that. Don’t say my name like I’m one of your students again. I deserve better from you.”

She was right, he thought, she did deserve better from him. After everything, after all his memories returned, he’d been faced with the fact that his history with Ms. Romanoff went farther back then when he’d shot through her stomach to get at his target. He’d been there, in the Red Room, training her into what she became. A Black Widow. The Black Widow.

And despite the years of damage, of verbal and physical abuse at his hands, Natasha had accepted him, telling him that they’d all done things they’d regretted in the past, that the only thing they could do about it now was make a difference. Balance the scales. Erase the red from their ledgers.

Bucky wasn’t sure there was enough bleach in the world to erase what he’d done. That Steve could look at him and not shudder in disgust was a miracle, and something he hadn’t earned. Which was the whole reason the copper-haired assassin was looking at him so harshly. “Steve was about to do the exact same thing.”

“And if he had, I’d be having this conversation with him and not with you.” She looked at him for another second, frowning when he glanced up at her with pale grey eyes. She shook her head and clicked her tongue before sitting gracefully beside him. “We just got through something unimaginable. The odds were that we’d all die, but something saved us -”

“Not something,” Bucky corrected, shaking his head, looking over at the spy. “Someone. And she needed help. Of all the people in that room, I was the best one to do it.”

“You mean the most expendable?” When Bucky didn’t look at her, Natasha leaned forward, bracing her elbows on her knees, hands clasped in front of her. “You’ve saved my life several times over. Steve looks at you like you’re everything he’s ever wanted. You really want to make him watch you sacrifice yourself?”

Bucky couldn’t help the clenching of his teeth. “He’s seen me die before.” Natasha moved so quickly that he barely had time to react, catching her fist before it smashed into his cheek. His eyes narrowed at the look in her eyes as he stood, gripping her fist in his hand. “Nata -”

Her foot smashed into the side of his knee, dropping him to the floor. Bucky dropped her hand in surprise, blocking blows with his arms, grunting as her foot kicked into the center of his chest and sent him to his back on the tile floor. He swept her leg, watching as she jumped over it with ease. He sat up, hands wrapping around her ankle when she kicked at his head, pulling her off balance and throwing her over his shoulder. She smacked against the metal lockers, the sound echoing off the tiles, falling to the ground beside him.

Bucky did his best to anticipate the barrage of punches and kicks as they thrust toward his head. He knew her fighting style, could predict where she’d strike next. He flipped to his feet, dodging out of the way when she directed a suckerpunch to his groin. He glared hard at her.

“Really?”

She smirked up at him, her leg extended toward his knee, the same one she’d kicked earlier. He backed away and she used the time to climb to her feet, jumping onto the bench, planting her feet on the locker and using the momentum to wrap her arms around his shoulders and pull him backward. He flipped over her shoulder, grunting as his body hit the tiles

Natasha turned and stood over him, glaring hard.
”Жопа.” She waited for his breathing to slow, Bucky’s eyes a storm as they looked up at her, before extending her hand to him. Bucky took it slowly, not sure if she was finished with her assault or just wanted him closer to inflict more damage.

They both returned to the the bench, sitting heavily, neither saying anything, happy that they’d expended some of the frustration that’d built up over the past weeks.

“Steve Rogers is one of the best men I know, and for some reason, he’s in love with you. Losing you again after everything… he might not come back from it. We need him, and we need you.”

Bucky listened to her words, even if he didn’t believe all of them, and nodded. “I was only trying to help.”

“You keep telling yourself that, учитель,, maybe one day you’ll actually believe it.”

Chapter 4: Dust And Bitter Longings

Chapter Text

Darcy had showered that morning in preparation for the day ahead, and she’d been impressed with the water pressure in her ensuite bathroom. When she’d been in the dorms her freshman year, there’d been countless problems with the water pressure as well as the amount of hot water available. It had been an annoyance, and she found the Avengers Compound showers were more than adequate.

The fact that she was focusing on the water pressure in her shower, and not on the nerves that were fluttering in her belly, showed how anxious she really was. Anything to keep her mind off the reality of her current situation. Darcy looked around the large cage. No, it wasn’t really a cage. There were no bars, but she knew standing inside of it that if they wanted, she’d be effectively held captive.

She walked another lap around the interior, knocking against things with her fingers, satisfied that nothing seemed hollow, that it felt secure. The buzz of claustrophobia was being studiously ignored, as was the flip of her stomach at the prospect of staying in here for the rest of her natural life if something went wrong.

“Are you sure this thing will hold up to anything that happens?”

She heard a bit of static, then Tony’s voice echoed in the chamber. “It’s made to hold the Green Guy, you’ll be fine.”

Darcy glared at Tony through the glass, or plastic, or whatever it was he claimed was safe enough to hold her and any ability that was about to be tested. “But are you, like, sure sure?”

“You’re stalling, kiddo.”

Her eyes narrowed even further, turning her attention from the source of her annoyance to the slightly frumpled man at his side. “Does the Hulk even have a soul?”

An expression close to offense crossed Bruce’s face. “Hey!”

Darcy grinned sheepishly at him. “No offense. I just want to make sure all the soul mumbo jumbo is something this sardine tin can handle. It’s weird because I know you’re, like, two different beings or whatever, but I don’t see two souls when I look at you.” She gasped and snapped her fingers toward him. “What if you’re not two different beings after all?”

The crackle of static. “No one said he’s two different beings. Nobody has ever said that. Will you stop stalling and just take it up to an eleven?”

She rolled her eyes at Tony and held up her hands. They were her normal pale pink, but she watched them flash with amber light as she focused, surrounded by wisps of smoke that her fingers could run through. Darcy flexed them, excited by the possibilities just as much as she was terrified by them. When she found herself at odds, she tended to oversteer into the skid. Is that what she needed to do here?

“To an eleven?” She echoed, watching her hands glow brighter.

“Sure,” Tony said with a shrug and a smirk, “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Steve had been sitting by, wanting to be there for the first full scale test but more than happy to hang in the background, quiet and tense while the scientists did their thing. This was so far out of his realm of understanding that he wouldn’t even try. All he knew was there was no real way to know what would happen, and he needed to be there, just in case.

When Tony started baiting Darcy, Steve stood, crossing to the microphone and bending it away from Tony’s mouth and toward his own. “Tony! No.”

Tony held up his hands in mock surrender, taking a step back from the control panel.

“Hey, Darcy, look at me.” Steve watched Darcy’s gaze shift from her hands to lock eyes with him, holding as he gave her a reassuring smile. “Just... be careful. Let your body do what it wants to do.”

Easier said than done, Captain, Darcy thought, because my body has sh*t for brains. She clenched her jaw, throwing him a stilted nod before looking back at her hands. “Right. Here goes. If I die, have Jane clear my browser history.”

Darcy closed her eyes, letting the part of her mind that held the colors take over. She felt a wave of nausea pass over her, almost making her stomach clench in pain, but it subsided and she was left looking into a black abyss. It was a black so deep she couldn’t see anything. Experimentally, she tried to raise her hand and wave it in front of her face, but she didn’t have hands, not here, so she was left tumbling in all that inky black.

’Let your body do what it wants to do.’ Okay, Body. What do you want to do?

She gasped suddenly as she felt an ocean of lines spread out from her body in all directions, like an explosion from the very center of her being. They were there, an infinite sea of souls, everywhere. They hung around her like threads; some she could feel go on forever, planets and galaxies away, others terminated nearby. When she looked down at her body (was it still her body or was it something so much more now?) she could see the lines, so bright and so clear, stretching out from her, endless.

She reached out to pluck at one like a guitar string.

There had been a blast of orange glow from inside the chamber, forcing Steve, Tony, and Bruce to shield their eyes. When the light lessened, they were left looking at Darcy, hovering inches above the floor, her toes barely brushing the ground. Her curls were caught in a wind of her own making, her eyes emitting an amber light, only broken when she blinked.

“Is she alright?”

Tony shook off the shock of seeing her, so much like she’d looked the night she’d killed Thanos, his eyes scanning the readouts from his tech. “Her heart rate is elevated, as is her breathing, but everything is holding steady. No radiation, no heat signature, nothing alarming.”

“You’re telling me that a girl floating surrounded by an unearthly light isn’t alarming?”

Blinking at Steve, Tony gave a short shrug of his shoulder. “Relatively, no, not alarming yet.”

Steve’s eyes glanced over Tony’s shoulder, landing on Bruce. The other man didn’t seem to be in any rush to end the experiment or run for safety, so he took them at their word and turned back to gaze at Darcy, unable to keep the wonder and concern from his eyes.

Darcy felt a reverberating shockwave travel outward along the thread. She’d been stupid, not knowing how far it went, and the possibility that it was light years away hit her like a truck. Would she just be stuck, then? Following this thread until the end of time? Would it even end at all, or was she doomed to be here, in this black, forever?

Bracing herself, unable to do anything about it now, she tried to follow the echo with her eyes, but it wasn’t really her eyes that were seeing it in the first place. She traveled the string, a straight line, needing to see where it ended, needing to know who it ended at. There was a person at the end of this thread and she wasn’t sure what to expect when she arrived. It didn’t take her long to find out, however, maybe only a fraction of a second. She was surprised at the quickness, but what was time when you could find all the beings in the universe?

The end of the line.

He was there, down the hallway from her, a swirl of crimson and charcoal, and Darcy watched, with eyes she didn’t need and a mind that wasn’t hers, as his body felt the impact of the ripple. Everything moved in slow motion. She saw Barnes grab the wall as he stumbled, mouth parting as the power moved through him, eyes wide and unfocused as his pupils flashed amber. He tensed, as if he was looking for the source of the attack he was under.

Was it an attack? She didn’t mean it to be. Darcy had no idea what any of this meant, what she could do. Was she hurting him? Could she hurt him? The second she thought it, she knew that she could. She could reach into him, rip his soul away, take what was already hers, and it would feel good. She wanted to do it. Her heartbeat sped at the very thought.

No. No, she didn’t. She couldn’t extinguish his light. She just couldn’t. It wasn’t her. Darcy didn’t want to hurt him, but it did. The stone. It’d be happy to hurt him, to carve him up and swallow him whole. It was hungry and he tasted delicious. And she felt fear grip her stomach so harshly that she doubled over in pain.

It had come from nowhere, this feeling in his chest. Bucky blinked past the orange that was glowing from his own eyes, looking up into the empty air of the hallway. He felt a whisper in his ear, recognizing the voice. He was used to hearing it sarcastic and sardonic, witty and sharp, but the fear he heard in it now gripped him.

She was arguing with someone, something, and it sounded like she was losing. Bucky could feel her against his skin, caressing, careful and soft. He couldn’t make out the words, but he knew she was bargaining. She was trading something, something to keep him from being pulled apart.

There was a price and it needed to be paid, and it wanted that man, the man Darcy’d brought to its attention. No. No, she didn’t want to hurt him. The thought of hurting him, of hurting anyone, formed a scream in Darcy’s throat and a pain in her chest. She begged, pleading, knowing that its interest had already been piqued. It was hungry and needed something to feed on. There was only one way to sate it, and she knew what had to be done.

She was trading something for him, to keep him from being hollowed out. The empty air of the hallway was filled with a light, emerald green and beautiful. Bucky watched as the glow enveloped him, squeezing into his chest and taking hold. The amber of his vision was changed until he saw nothing but fresh verdant, feeling something extra within him. Something more.

Bucky looked up, the glow fading from his eyes. He could feel her, he could feel she was in trouble. Something bad was about to happen and he wasn’t going to make it in time. He pushed off the wall, stumbling a bit but kept his footing, breaking into a sprint toward where he knew she was.

Tears on her face, Darcy watched Barnes run away, whole and complete and not hurt. Whatever she’d promised had quieted the voice, but she knew it wasn’t gone, not really. Something had changed, something important, and she tensed, waiting for the crash.

Darcy screamed as she was thrown backward, following the thread until she crashed into her own body, but she was too big now, too massive. She could hear all of them, so many voices, each one a line, each one wrapping around her until she was bound and held still. She could feel it, just out of reach, waiting until she surrendered. She was drowning, part of her being hollowed out, and Darcy had a second to wonder what was going to fill back into her when she was gone.

The control room was in chaos. Steve was yelling at Tony as Darcy screamed, clutching her chest, doubled over in pain. The glow was pulsing, bright and dim, dark and light, and underneath it all was a current of air, pushing the amber glow and her dark curls around the interior of the capsule.

“What’s happening?”

“I don’t know,” Tony screamed, checking the monitors. “She’s going into shock, A-Fib, her brain activity is off the charts -”

“Her body is reacting like it’s in pain, her white blood cells are attacking something inside of her -”

Steve didn’t understand anything they were saying, his eyes on Darcy as she screamed. His gaze was only pulled away when the door to the lab was thrown open and he saw the dark hair and flash of chrome he knew so well. “Bucky?” He watched the soldier pound on the container, screaming something unintelligible.

When Darcy finally opened her eyes, she could see nothing but that familiar amber-orange glow, too bright and blinding. She shook her head, focusing to flick the colors from her vision, leaving just her normal hazel eyes. She blinked, gaze on Barnes who was there on the other side of the barrier, his fists pounding on the cage, mouth screaming something she couldn’t hear. A flood of relief crashed inside of her body. He was there, he was whole, and he was safe. But if he was safe, and whole, and there, that meant the deal had gone through. And now she was the one who would pay.

Darcy tried to answer him, tried to speak or blink, but there was nothing but everything and she was absolutely terrified.

Oh. f*ck. Oh, f*ck, what did I do?

Bucky turned to look at the window over his shoulder, seeing Steve on the other side. He screamed, fist pounding, begging for the door to be opened. He knew what was in there with her, what it wanted, and it couldn’t have her. If he could get in there, if he could just touch her, he’d be able to stop it.

“Steve!”

“Friday, open the containment door!” Tony screamed at the air, watching as Barnes brought his metal hand against the glass again and again. He saw the blur of blond as Steve ran out of the control room and toward the lab. His heart froze as he watched Darcy struggle, pain on her face.

“But boss -”

“Friday, open the goddamn door now!”

Darcy tried to pull herself together, to pull her own consciousness back from where it’d been flung throughout the universe. She’d thrown it everywhere, to the farthest reaches of her abilities, and now there was no way she’d get it all back. She’d be hollowed, empty, missing part of herself as it feasted.

Gritting her teeth, Darcy thought about herself. She wasn’t perfect, but she was her and that meant everything. All her flaws. All her strengths. Her sense of humor, her ability to love, her beliefs. Stubborn and proud, stupid and romantic. She needed all of it, every piece, and she didn’t want to give up a single cell of herself, not to this stone, not to any thing, despite the deal she’d struck.

Her ears popped as a wave of energy blasted from the very center of her, filling the confined space with a cloud of her, floating in the air. Darcy breathed deeply, trying to capture every bit of dusty orange, every flicker of amber, every single piece of herself, but she couldn’t get it all, there was no way. Part of her floated away on the air and she knew it would leave her hollow and dangerous. She felt her legs give out, realizing it was too late for her to do anything.

Finally, Bucky heard the shift of metal on metal, rounding the corner and leaping into the container. He caught her before she collapsed, a subtle glow of amber at her mouth. His grey gaze flicked around the interior, looking. He spotted it, hovering just above him. Bucky took a deep breath in, watching as the bit of light was carried toward him, feeling the warmth as he inhaled it, burying it in his lungs.

Bucky knew it wasn’t enough. The voice he’d heard hadn’t gotten her light, but there was something missing from her now, something empty inside. He could still see that light in her throat, where she’d pulled as much of herself as she could, and the power was still there, inside of her, and just the tiniest bit inside him, now.

He wasn’t sure how he knew what to do, but as he dipped his head and their lips connected, he breathed into her, pouring what extra he had from his mouth, filling the hollow spot within her. When he pulled back, her mouth lit up with a flash of red, then blue, then faded away all together.

Bucky heard Steve skid across the floor behind him, felt the blond’s eyes land on him and the girl he was cradling against his chest. He heard Stark and Banner right behind, could feel their apprehension and worry.

“What are you doing! Don’t touch her!”

Tony’s shout echoed in the interior of the chamber, all three men taking a step back when Bucky looked up at them, his eyes flashing amber.

“She already touched me.” Bucky knew he couldn’t explain it to them, that they couldn’t understand what had just happened, so he didn’t try. He turned his attention to Darcy, watching as she blinked up at him, her hazel eyes filled with worry, and sadness, and exhaustion.

Darcy’s gaze followed the curve of Bucky’s jaw, the bow in his upper lip, the slight divot in his chin. Had she? Had she already touched his soul? Was it hers now? Is that what she felt burning so brightly in her chest, new and shiny and whole?

“Not mine,” she finally breathed, watching as Barnes’ face looked down at her, confusion and concern in the grey of his eyes. Her arm felt impossibly heavy as she lifted it, poking his chest with her index finger. “Yours.”

Steve watched as Darcy slipped into unconsciousness in Bucky’s arms. No one moved, or breathed, too afraid to do anything. He had no idea what had just happened, but when Bucky looked up toward him with worry in his eyes, he took a step toward his best friend. “Buck -”

“We should get her to the med ward.”

Bucky’s voice had been so soft that Steve almost hadn’t heard it. “What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Bucky said, swallowing past the lump in his throat. He closed his eyes against the mental onslaught, fighting hard to keep from following her into the darkness and passing out. There were words on the tip of his tongue, words that weren’t his, and he felt lightheaded with the weight of what had changed. “We need to get her to the med ward.”

“What the hell did you do?”

Grey eyes flicked up toward Tony, hearing the harshness in his tone, the accusation dripping in his words. Bucky shook his head, slotting his arms around Darcy’s shoulders and under her knees, lifting her as he stood. Her body was limp as he turned toward the three men, all of them looking at him with differing levels of uncertainty. Not knowing where the words came from, he looked at Tony. “Please get out of my way.”

Steve’s eyebrows lifted at Bucky’s words and the way he’d said them. “Sure, Buck, let’s get her to the med ward.” He could tell something was off, could see it in the way Bucky was looking at them, then glancing down as the woman in his arms.

“There’s a gurney out here.”

Bucky shook his head. “No.”

“You could lay her -”

“No,” he repeated, harsher this time. “I’ve got her.”

Steve took a step forward, cutting off Tony and whatever he’d been about to say to Bucky. “Medical Ward. You got it. We’ll follow you.” He watched as Bucky shifted her in his arms, getting a better hold, before he walked past them and out of the lab.

“What the -”

“Tony, unless the next words out of your mouth are an explanation of what the f*ck just happened, I suggest you keep it closed.” Steve watched the retorts fly up Tony’s throat but stop short. Tony breathed heavily, his nostrils flaring, before he turned and stalked after Bucky.

“There was no way for him to know what was going to happen. He tried to account for every variable he could think of.”

Turning to look at Bruce, Steve nodded. “I know you did everything you could.”

“No, not me. Tony. The container, the specifications, all the tech… That’s him. I know biochemistry and nuclear physics, but this goes beyond anything I’ve studied. Even after working on Vision this is… I could tell you why she was different, but anticipating her abilities?. This is new science, something no one has worked on.”

Steve sighed, making his way into the hall, following behind Tony and Bucky at a distance. “Okay. New science. What do we do now?”

Bruce pulled his glasses free, using the bottom of his t-shirt to clean them. “We wait for her to wake up, hope that she has a better explanation of what happened.” He replaced his glasses, pushing them up his nose as he turned to Steve. “I think he likes her.”

Steve’s eyes swung toward Bruce. “What?”

“Tony. He talks about how annoying she is, but you can see it, hear it in his voice. She reminds me of him a little bit. He checked over everything three times. Twice”

He watched Tony and Bucky turned a corner, glancing over at Bruce again. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I may not talk much, but I listen, and I watch. I know things aren’t the best between... “ Bruce looked over at him for the quickest beat before looking back ahead, “trust me, leaving emotions bottled up inside is good for no one.”

The corner of Steve’s mouth turned up at the scientist, blue eyes crinkling at the corners when Bruce gave him a small smile. “That would be your area of expertise.”

“One of them,” Bruce agreed, “it’s definitely one of them.”

“You could have hurt her.”

“I didn’t.”

“What were you thinking?”

“Tony -”

“No. No, you don’t get to call me Tony. Not after what you’ve done.”

Tony came to a stop when Bucky turned toward him, Darcy’s hair swishing through the air as the soldier moved. Again, he wasn’t sure where the words came from, but he found himself voicing them. “There is nothing I can say or do to make up for what happened to your parents. So what would you like me to do?”

He watched Tony blink at him, saw the clench in his jaw as it tightened. Like always, he watched the anger and sorrow fill the smaller man’s eyes, watched it consume him from the inside. But he didn’t speak. Tony glared at him, filled with righteous fury, with no where to aim it.

And then even more words flowed from him, almost like he a stream of consciousness, something he couldn’t control.

“What happened to your parents is unforgivable and I wish I could change it, but I can’t. I wish I could undo a lot of the things these hands have done, but I’ll never be able to wash them clean. So please, Stark, tell me what you’d like me to do.”

Another silence. Bucky could see Steve and Bruce catching up with them, their whispered conversation halting as they felt the tension in the hallway.

“That might be the most words you’ve ever said to me,” Tony bit out, brown eyes still hard as they glared at Bucky.

“I’m feeling a bit more verbose today,” Bucky said. He got a better grip on Darcy, glancing over at Steve once before he turned his back to them and started walking again.

Tony stayed in the hallway, watching after Bucky as he left, his face a mask of confusion. Steve and Bruce came up behind him, the tightness in the air palpable. “Tony?” Steve watched Tony tear his eyes from Bucky’s retreating form, blinking up at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it, turning toward Bruce instead.

“If there’s something wrong with her heart we’ll need to work fast.”

Bruce nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “If she just passed out, hopefully she’ll be able to fill in the details. All of her readings were normal.”

“Until they weren’t,” Steve sighed, scratching at the stubble on his chin. “I’d say this was like Wanda, but on a much bigger scale.”

“Well, it was the mind stone that gave her her powers. Maybe she shares the same genetic anomaly as Ms. Lewis. It would explain why the experiments failed until they got a hold of Wanda and Pietro.”

Tony nodded, his brain turning over the possibilities. “I’ll let you ask Wanda if we can do a genome mapping when she gets back from Wakanda. I don’t think she’ll like me asking her for it.”

“That still doesn’t explain why Bucky was able to touch her.”

Shaking his head, Tony frowned. “For all we know, anyone could have been touching her this whole time and it would have been fine. We were just being careful. For her sake, and for our own.”

“You think since he touched her, it’d be fine for others?”

“Not until we hear from her, see if she can give us any more information.” Bruce sighed. “It’s really hard to know what happened today, if it did any irreparable damage.”

Steve watched Tony flinch at the idea, shoving his hands in the pockets of his slacks, the usual arrogant expression Steve’d come to associate with the man sliding into place, like a mask. “Then I guess we wait to see if our experiment killed her.”

Tony turned on his heel, the sole of his sneaker squeaking against the floor, and followed the hallway toward the medical ward. Steve sighed, casting a glance in Bruce’s direction, smiling softly when the scientist gave him a small shrug of his shoulders. “So we wait?”

“We wait.”

Chapter 5: Hurts Like Hell

Chapter Text

Darcy was getting real sick and tired of waking up with a bunch of people looking down at her, concern and a little bit of fear in their eyes. She didn’t want to move, afraid doing so would only lead to her embarrassing herself by throwing up everywhere. Her cheek was pressed against something warm, and she let out a groan as her eyes flicked from person to person.

“I had a dream,” she breathed, “and you were there. And you were there. And you were there…”

At her words, she saw the people gathered in the small room breathe a collective sigh of relief. Bruce readjusted the glasses on his nose, pushing them up only to have them fall right back down. Tony gave her a smirk and a roll of his eyes. Steve was looking at her from a chair at her bedside, pretty blue eyes shining, so strikingly handsome, the only man she’d ever loved.

Her brain supplied its own record-screech sound effect.

“Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore.”

She let the breath out of her lungs slowly, feeling the love in her chest as Steve blinked, those impossibly long eyelashes brushing against his cheeks. She’d kissed those cheeks before, then followed those kisses with ones that burned along his jaw and kept going south, tongue dipping into his clavicle and biting softly on the muscle of his neck, leaving red teeth marks in her wake.

And she remembered seeing the ‘Wizard of Oz’ in the theater when it was first released, the scent of stale popcorn hanging in the air. It’d been too expensive to buy any popcorn after the twenty-five cent movie tickets, but seeing Judy Garland sing on that screen, watching the colors for the first time… It’d been mesmerizing. The prettiest thing she’d ever seen, second only to the blond man at her side.

But that wasn’t her memory. She hadn’t been alive when it was released, hadn’t been in Brooklyn, hadn’t had to save up every penny in order to buy tickets for herself and Steve. No, those weren’t her memories, they were -

“Bucky,” she gasped, sitting up, eyes widening as she looked for him in the room. She felt movement, her hazel gaze swinging. He was there behind her, dark and handsome, the thing her cheek had been resting on. Darcy saw a circle of wetness on the red henley he was wearing. She’d drooled on him, sweet MamaJama, she’d been drooling on the Winter Soldier. She shifted, pressing her palm against his chest as she tried to turn toward him. Moving so quickly made her head spin a bit and she reached up to grab it. “Owwww...”

Steve had followed Bucky into the med bay, watching as he’d laid back on the cot, pulling Darcy against his chest, arms wrapping around her protectively. He’d watched the expression on Tony’s face, unhappy but resigned, and the tiny bit worried as he’d kept glancing in Darcy’s direction. Bruce had paced the room, messing with the screens showing Darcy’s heartbeat and respiration rates, waiting for her to wake up.

And he’d watched Bucky’s face when she’d finally woken up, relief and softness filling his best friend’s eyes, softer than Bucky’d shown to anyone but him. Steve’s gaze moved from Bucky, his chest tightening at the bare emotion in his lover’s eyes, and focused on Darcy instead. He was only inches from them, sitting beside the cot, but it suddenly felt like miles.

His heart rate slowing, his chest easing with the knowledge that she was awake, Bucky noted her eyes going from person to person in the room, calling his name before that beautiful hazel spun toward him. When her eyes closed and she made a sound of pain, he immediately raised his hand, cupping her cheek, frowning at the way her face had contorted in discomfort.

Darcy jumped when she felt a warm hand on her cheek. She blinked twice, quickly, only getting a glimpse of the color world before she pushed it away. But she’d seen enough to know that Bucky was there, whole and him and with all his soul bits intact. As she looked into his slate-grey eyes, the swell of emotion was visceral, so real, and Darcy threw her arms around him, squeezing tightly.

“I thought I’d taken you, stolen something.” Darcy said against the warmth of his neck before she pulled back, seeing the guarded look in his eyes, the expression making the smile on her face falter.

“I think you did. A little,” Bucky breathed, knowing what she meant.

f*ck. f*ckf*ckf*ck! After everything he’d been through, the torture, the years, the pain, every face, every kill, every death, and she’d gone and taken something of his soul. Darcy felt her face crumble, her bottom lip shaking.

He hadn’t meant his words to hurt her, and Bucky’s chest ached knowing he was the reason the tears were welling in her eyes. “Hey, hey now,” he whispered, cradling her face in both of his hands, thumbs running over her cheekbones, ready to catch the tears if they fell. “I think you gave me a little of yours.”

At his words, Darcy blinked and finally saw it; the swatch of crimson that was him, as well as the vein of blue he shared with Steve, but where there’d only been ash, blackish grey at the edges, she could make out the smallest hint of green, emerald and shining like a jewel. “That’s me?” she asked. She knew he couldn’t see them, the colors that could steal her vision, but somehow he knew what she was talking about. Because he had seen it, just through her eyes.

Bucky nodded slowly, brushing away one of the tears as it rolled down her cheek. “I think so.”

“And you’re…” Darcy watched him nod again, realizing that he was sharing the same effects, the emotion in her chest matched in his own. Oh. “f*ck. I’m sorry.”

“Darce, it wasn’t your fault.”

“No, but it was me.” The look he gave her was one she’d seen in the mirror one too many times. A Darcy Lewis Look™ on his Bucky Barnes face. “I know. I did it, but it wasn’t me. I know. Doesn’t make it easier.”

“I know.”

And he did. He did know. And she knew, because they shared those memories, his and hers, together, all of them. Something in her chest eased at the small smile he gave her, a sigh lifting her shoulders as she leaned forward and pressed her forehead to his.

Steve hadn’t been able to keep up with their conversation, looking between the two of them speaking in a shorthand that time wouldn’t have allowed them to form. When Bucky was holding her face, so careful and gentle, Steve found it hard to breathe. Watching Bucky brush away Darcy’s tears and whisper softly to her, words of comfort and reassurance… he couldn’t swallow past the lump in his throat.

He had no idea what had happened, but Steve felt the first sting of righteous pain in his chest.

“Seriously? Are we just ignoring all personal boundaries now? Hey! Hello, hi!?” Darcy turned toward Tony as he waved his hand near her face to get her attention, feeling Bucky do the same. “Mind letting the rest of us in on your little gab session? We’d like to know if we need to put the base on lockdown.”

Darcy turned back toward Bucky, realizing they’d gone to a whole different place for a moment together, letting out a soft laugh as she attempted to extricate herself from his lap. When she’d settled herself beside him, bodies touching from knee to hip, she tried to think of a way to explain something she didn’t even really get.

“I did what you said. Let my body do what it wanted. And what it wanted to do was to show me souls.”

“Our souls?”

She gave Bruce a look, wishing it was that easy, “All souls. The whole universe. Every sentient being, or the ones that have a soul, I guess. Can a sentient being not have a soul? I don’t f*cking know. There was an epic sh*t ton of souls, okay? And I felt them. Then I reached out and touched one that was close. And that…” she trailed off and gestured pathetically in Bucky’s direction.

“You touched his soul.” Tony said, his voice incredulous. His brown eyes were looking at her as if he expected her to start laughing any second, to give up the ruse. Darcy didn’t laugh though, only nodded at him earnestly, “Ah. Great. Awesome. Totally clears that up.”

“Hey!”

“It’s okay, Buck.” Darcy reached out and squeezed his knee, pulling his hardened grey gaze toward her, his eyes easing as he blinked at her. “There was something there, something there. The stone, I think? And it was hungry, so I had to suck myself back in before I got lost in the blackness, or before something else got in me first. But I’d accidentally already touched Bucky, given him something from me. And then -”

“ - I could feel her, the part of her in me leaving room for something else. So I gave her a part of me so that didn’t happen.”

Saying it out loud was somehow worse. Everyone was quiet, looking at her and Bucky with uncertain expressions. Tony still looked like he didn’t believe it, Bruce looked thoughtful. And Steve -

Darcy gasped when she felt a stabbing pain in her chest, the sound covered up by the scraping of Steve’s chair on the floor. She watched him stand, tearing his eyes away from the two of them before he turned, without a word, and left the room. Darcy’s hand pressed to her sternum, feeling like there should have been some wound to cover, something deep and aching and a source for the pain she was feeling. She risked a glance at Bucky, seeing the guilt filling his gorgeous eyes. “f*ck,” she breathed, reaching out to squeeze his hand, “I didn’t mean -”

“I’ll talk to him,” Bucky said, eyes sliding to hers from where they’d been looking at the empty doorway Steve had just gone through. He gave her the tiniest smile, hoping it came across as reassuring, and squeezed her hand quickly before following after Steve.

Feeling more than a little bereft, Darcy turned her attention toward Tony and Bruce, the only two people left in the room. She couldn’t place the emotions on their faces anymore, the colors fading in and out of her vision as her eyes filled with tears. Seeing the look on Steve’s face as he looked at her, cold and hurt and bruised, being held and sharing comfort by the love of his life… She couldn’t breathe around that much pain.

“For the love of Frigga, can somebody get Jane in here?”

Tony and Bruce blinked at her, uncertainty in their faces.

“Like, now?”

Another round of blinking.

“Now! Right now!”

She watched both men flinch as they were finally moved to action at her howl, Bruce crossing to the phone on the desk, Tony not running, but moving quickly, out of the room. Presumably to find Jane, but it didn’t matter. Darcy’s eyes were taken over by the blackness, shapes and swirls dancing, and she buried her face in the pillow to blot it all out.

Once her tears started, they wouldn’t stop. This was too much. Too, too much. She curled up as the sobs came quicker, wracking her body, her stomach turning and twisting, the hurt on Steve’s face like a bullet through her heart.

What did I just do?

Bucky followed Steve at a distance. The last thing he wanted to do was cause a scene, but with the way his best friend was stalking through the halls, everyone having to jump out of Steve’s way or be run over, he figured it was a little too late for that.

“Steve,” he said, speeding up until he was a few yards behind him. “Steve, wait.”

It didn’t matter that he could hear Bucky on his heels, Steve needed to not be inside. It was suffocating, the grey of the walls reminding him of Bucky’s eyes, and how they’d looked at Darcy.

Knowing.

Caring.

Shining with love.

For the first time in years, since he’d come out of that metal tube, his body pumping with the serum Erskine had developed, Steve Rogers felt his chest contract like he was having an asthma attack and couldn’t catch his breath. He needed air. He needed air desperately.

It had been so much easier to chase after Steve when they were younger, when the blond’s gait was stuttered and he’d have to stop when he’d overexerted himself. Bucky knew all the different ways Steve Rogers could pout, but running away had never been one. Until now. “Steven Grant Rogers, f*cking stop so we can talk.”

Something in Bucky’s voice, something he didn’t recognize, had Steve turning on his heel, his face a mask of pain. “Don’t f*cking do that. Don’t talk to me like I’m a child.”

“Stop running like one and I won’t have to,” Bucky said, his brows furrowed as he watched the pink tint Steve’s cheeks, red and angry and absolutely heartbreaking. “I have to explain.”

“I don’t need your explanations. When I asked, you said you were concerned because she reminded you of me.”

“She does. Steve -”

“The way you were looking at her? How she was looking at you? Touching you? What am I supposed to think?”

“Like we said -”

“We?” Steve’s jaw clenched, taking a step toward Bucky, ignoring the eyes of people in the hall when they swung toward them. “It’s ‘we’ now?”

Bucky frowned, closing the distance between them, lowering his voice. “If you’d let me explain, I could make you see -”

Steve shook his head, his eyes dark cobalt, filled with hurt and jealousy and a mess of emotions he couldn’t place. “I don’t think I want you to explain. I think I’d rather you just let me go.”

Bucky’s glare faltered. “Let you go?” He reached out and wrapped his fingers around Steve’s arm, the annoyance at Steve’s stubbornness replaced with a cold fear at those words. “Steve. Come on.”

“Not right now, Bucky. I need to go. Let go of my arm.”

He was using that voice, the one he used when he was training, when you needed to listen to him or you’d be brought to the mat. Bucky hated that voice, but he hated the look in Steve’s eye even more. “Steve.”

“Bucky. Let me go. Now.”

Steve’s muscles hadn’t tensed, but Bucky knew if he didn’t let go, something bad was going to happen. Against his heart’s screams of pain and his mind’s acknowledgement that Steve would never hurt him, Bucky pulled his hand back, watching Steve’s face grow colder, more guarded. Bucky watched him snap those steel plates into place around his heart, then watched Steve’s back as he continued down the hallway and disappeared from sight.

Bucky stood there, silent, aching, until the noise of the hallway filtered to his ears. He turned, seeing several people pretend like they hadn’t been listening to every word that had just been said. His glare, familiar on his lips, materialized on his face like a mask, wiping away any emotions he didn’t want to be seen.

Natasha was there, leaning against Steve’s motorcycle when he entered the garage. She looked at him, that beautiful face giving nothing away as he strode toward her. “Going for a ride?” Her voice was scratchy, raspy, also carefully avoiding any hint of emotion he could pick out except pleasant and friendly.

Steve slipped his jacket over his shoulders as he looked at her, pinning her with his gaze. “Bruce?”

“Tony,” she answered, watching a flash of surprise in Steve’s eyes before it was smoothed out again, returning to their normal sky blue. He was doing a good job of shielding, but it’d been Natasha’s job to read micro-expressions on people’s faces. And she could read her friend like a book. “Said you were upset. Didn’t say why.”

He sighed, trying to keep the anger out of his voice but knowing it hadn’t worked. “And you’re here to... what? Baby sit me?”

“Please. Even I know better. Tony just said -”

“Tony needs to mind his own damn business.”

Natasha laughed, low and deep, shaking her head. “We both know Tony better than that.” She had to get out of the way when Steve threw his leg over the bike and hit the kickstand, keeping it upright with both feet on the ground. She strode forward and laid a hand over his on the throttle. “You’re not going to go and do something stupid, are you?”

His shoulders lifted and fell as he flicked his gaze toward her. For all that she hid it, Steve could see real worry in her eyes, concern for him, an uneasiness for her friend. “Nat, I just need to get away for a bit. I’ll be fine.” She stood there, looking at him, not moving. Finally, convinced of what she saw in his eyes, she took a step back.

“My door is always open. You know that.”

“I might just take you up on that,” Steve said, turning the key and hearing the engine roar to life. He didn’t look back at Natasha, his focus on the green forest on the other side of the glass. The door opened as he neared, and he kept his head down, clearing the bottom of the door by inches.

The sprawling grounds of the compound stretched in all directions, thick and dense trees ringing it. He left the main road, the modern architecture of the building fading from sight in his mirrors, until he was swallowed by the darker canopy of the forest.

Even with the explanation Bucky and Darcy had given when she woke up, Steve still couldn’t wrap his head about what had happened. All he knew that was that he saw the only man he’d ever loved - the one he’d gone to battle for, the one he’d done everything to save, the one he couldn’t imagine life without - with someone else wrapped around him, Bucky and Darcy sharing the glances that only two people who’d known each other forever could share. Comfortable. Familiar.

The look in Bucky’s eyes had said enough.

He’d looked at Darcy, softness in his eyes, the kind of softness only Steve had been able to see. Hadn’t Steve worked hard to open Bucky up, to make him more trusting, to make sure other people saw how good of a man his best friend was? But the looks on Bucky and Darcy’s faces weren’t just friendly. They were something else, something more.

What was he supposed to do? How? What the hell had happened?

Steve’s chest throbbed with pain, and jealousy, and fear. They didn’t know enough about Darcy’s powers to know if this was permanent or temporary. Would it fade? Would that look in his love’s gaze leave after a time? Steve’s mind was awash with too many questions, questions he wasn’t ready to hear the answers to yet, afraid they’d be answers he didn’t want.

Steve had tried hard not to be a jealous man. Growing up there’d been girls falling all over themselves to win a date with James ‘Bucky’ Barnes, and Bucky’d go out with a few of them, sometimes ask them to bring a friend for Steve and make it a double. Steve humored him, going even though he knew nothing would pan out. However, it’d given him time to spend with his best friend, and he’d never get tired of that. Bucky would return, smelling of perfume and sex, but he’d always come home, home to Steve.

Steve had found Peggy during the war, her dark hair, full lips and wit reminding him so much of Bucky that it’d hurt. He’d loved her, given her as much of his heart he had to give, the rest already belonging to his best friend and first love. Losing Bucky, then waking up in a world so changed and without either of them… He’d been lost. It wasn’t until he’d found the others that he started to find his way. Natasha with her deadpan comments and sharp eyes. Tony, stubborn and acerbic but just as committed as him. Clint and Thor, fighters to the core. Bruce, who doubted himself but was there whenever they needed him. Then Sam. And Wanda.

A family, or as close as he could get.

Then Bucky was there, not really himself, but not dead either, and he’d fought so hard to get him back. Months of therapy, months of working to rebuild and uncover his memories, finally finding each other again.

No matter what happened, they found each other. Him and Bucky always found each other. Not time, not space, not even death could keep seem to them apart. The idea that a stone capable of destroying souls would be the catalyst of their downfall would have made him laugh if he didn’t already feel so goddamn helpless about it.

He knew Bucky wanted to explain, make him see how things were but, if he were being honest, Steve wasn’t ready to listen. Not yet. He needed time. Time to think, time to consider, time to adjust. Now that Thanos and the direct threat to the world had been taken care of, he had time. He wouldn’t stay away for long. He couldn’t.

He just needed time.

Chapter 6: What Did You Do?

Chapter Text

“Explain it again.”

Darcy sighed, crossing her arms over her chest as she laid back on her bed, the grey of the ceiling becoming the only witness to the scowl on her face as she humored Jane and tried, again, to explain to her best friend what had happened the previous day. “While we were trying to see what all I could do with my super awesome world-endy powers, I touched Bucky’s soul.”

“Okay.”

“Not knowing what I was doing, because I’m a f*cking idiot, I ended up giving him part of my soul.”

“Got it.”

“Giving him part of my soul opened me up for something bad to fill the part I’d just lost.”

Darcy heard Jane’s hum and the snap of her fingers. “See, I think that’s where you lose me.”

Darcy sat up, clutching a pillow against her chest. “Oh, that’s the part that gets you? Is it, Janey? The part where I did something stupid and ended up making things a metric sh*t ton worse?” Seeing the look on Jane’s face made Darcy crumble, falling to her side on the bed, staring frustratedly at the wall.

Jane waited for Darcy to fall silent again before starting again, used to her best friend’s sarcastic tendencies. “So it’s like you’re a cake, right? You have six slices. You gave a slice of you to Barnes -”

“Great now I’m hungry for cake.”

“- and that leaves an empty cake slice open for something disgusting, like a fruitcake, to weasel its way in.”

“But you like fruit cake.”

“Shut up, it’s a metaphor.” When Darcy stayed silent, Jane continued, “so the evil fruit cake wanted to fill your slice, but Barnes ran in and gave you part of his cake, and since you’d already given your slice to him, he had an extra one. So he filled your slot with his piece so you weren’t open to being filled in by the fruit cake... monster... stone…. thing.”

Darcy looked over at Jane, shoulders shrugging into a sigh and gesturing in the air with her hand. “Something like that.”

Jane nodded, bringing one of her hands to her mouth as she analyzed the problem, biting on a fingernail as she organized her thoughts. “So how do we undo it?”

Sitting up again, Darcy wrapped her arms around the pillow, looking across the bed at her best friend. “I don’t want to undo it,” she insisted, eyebrows knitting together, “now that he’s in here? I can’t let him go. I love him.”

“Darce -”

“No, Jane. I need you to understand this part. I have a piece of him in here,” she tapped on her chest, “with me. I remember things I wasn’t there for, but I was. I know what it feels like to be at war even though I’ve never held anything other than a taser gun. I already knew what it felt like to go to bed hungry, but now I know what it feels like to go hungry so someone else can eat.”

Darcy reached up and wiped her sleeve across her eyes, catching the tears before they could slide down her face. She was moved to tears so easily now, still sorting through all Bucky’s memories and the emotions that came with them. She could go from a one to a ten on the ‘crying hysterically’ scale in three seconds flat.

“I don’t want to undo it. I won’t.” When Jane seemed to accept her words, Darcy felt the urgency sap away, clutching the pillow tighter. “Besides, I am never going to try that with the stone again. Ever. I’ve had my fill with fingering souls, thank you very much.”

Darcy watched Jane try and fail to keep the small smirk off her face. “Shut up.” When Jane hid her face in her hands, Darcy hefted her pillow and swung it at the scientist. “Thanks, pal, you’re a real peach.”

“I’m sorry, really. It’s just hard to know that yesterday you were eating poptarts and today you’re in love with someone and have a whole lifetime of other memories in your head.”

Falling to her side again, Darcy pushed the pillow under her head, lips turning down into a frown. “Um, yeah, tell me about it.”

Jane gave Darcy what she hoped was an encouraging smile. “So what happens next?”

Darcy wished she had an answer for her friend, but she didn’t. After Jane had appeared to help console her, thanks to Tony’s quick work at finding where the astrophysicist was, everything had kind of fallen apart. “I don’t know. Buck’s been checking in on me, or letting me check in on him, but Steve hasn’t returned to their room. He’s staying in the other housing wing. With Black Widow.”

Jane laid out next to Darcy on the bed, using her elbow as a pillow, gazing into her friend’s emotion-filled hazel eyes. “And you love him, too?” The look in Darcy’s eyes said enough, and it was written on her face.

“It’s stupid, I know.”

“It’s not stupid.”

“It’s pretty f*cking stupid.”

Jane frowned, trying to wrap her head around everything. So much had changed so quickly. “If you have all of Barnes’ memories, and he’s in love with Steve Rogers, then it makes sense that you’d love him, too.”

“It makes sense, but it’s stupid. At least Buck’s going through the same thing I am. All the baggage I’m carrying around? It’s a good thing he’s got that super strength going on because I’ve got quite the set of matching luggage.”

Darcy picked at the drab comforter they were laying on. “I’m waiting for Bucky to come up and wrap you in a giant hug and make sure you eat something every eight hours. He’s caught the ‘my best friend’s an astrophysicist’ STI. Stone Transmitted Infection.” She watched Jane’s eyes widen. “Didn’t think of that? Trust me, I’ve had plenty of time to think of the spiraling repercussions of the stupid stupid thing I did.”

Jane smiled softly at Darcy. “If the stupid thing you did made it so you’re here, talking to me and still my best friend, then I’m glad you did it.”

Darcy’s eyes filled for the eight-hundredth time over the past twenty-four hours. “Shut up, you sappy nerd.”

“He’ll come around.”

“Bucky?”

“No. Steve. Thor always talks about how he’s the heart of the group, how much he really cares for everyone. If he has that big of a heart, then there’s got to be room in it for you, too, right?”

Jane’s words were so sweet, and perfect, and Darcy wanted desperately for them to be true. But the look on Steve’s face when he’d walked out of that room…

Darcy’s eyes screwed shut, shoulders shaking at the memory. She felt Jane move, her friend’s arm reaching out to console her, but Darcy jerked backward out of Jane;s reach, panic filling her eyes. “No! I can’t… I can’t do that to someone else and I don’t know what will happen if you touch me!”

“I could -”

“No. Please, just… Just lay here with me, alright? That’ll be enough.”

Compassion filled Jane’s eyes as she got as close to Darcy as she could, tears pooling in her eyes as she watched her best friend cry with what sounded like a broken heart.

“Barnes!”

Bucky paused in the hallway, turning on his heel to see Jane coming toward him with purpose in her steps. She was doing her ‘science strut’, and he couldn’t help the small smile that turned his lips at the memory. But it wasn’t his memory, it was Darcy’s, and he schooled his features. Jane wasn’t his best friend, despite the swell of emotion in his chest at the sight of her. “Ms. Foster,” he greeted, ducking his head in her direction.

“We can drop that, right? I can call you Bucky and you can call me Jane?” Bucky took in her soft glare, remembering what it felt like to be pinned by it. It didn’t feel right, pretending to be strangers, not with the years of memories he shared now. He nodded. “Good,” she went on, “we should get lunch. Now.”

He felt his eyebrows raise toward his hairline. “Now?”

“Mmmhmm. Right now.” Bucky watched Jane take a deep breath before she reached out and swung her arm through his. It was so familiar, walking with her like this, but also different, as he was a good six inches taller than Darcy. She led them toward the cafeteria. “Darcy tried explaining to me what happened. Am I right to assume that you remember everything from New Mexico and London?”

Bucky nodded, eyes alert as several people in the hallway watched them walk by, arm in arm, with interest. “You’re not wrong.”

“I spent most of the last day consoling Darcy, but I’m pretty sure you know that.”

He glanced in her direction, frowning. “I can’t see what she’s doing now. It doesn’t work like that.”

“I didn’t mean like know know, but you know.”

Bucky did know. The years of shorthand between Darcy and Jane were there in him, too, so he knew. “Yeah. I figured you’d be there with her. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me. She’s my best friend.”

“I know,” Bucky said, “but it feels better knowing she’s not alone. Thank you.”

Jane didn’t say much as they moved through the line, and Bucky spent his time glaring at people who were actively looking in their direction. When Steve was gone or his presence wasn’t felt, the natives tended to get a bit restless. And after the scene between him and Steve in the hallway, he knew they had plenty to whisper about.

He followed Jane as she grabbed a table near the window, the salad on her plate piled high and looking much more colorful than his grilled chicken breast. He watched Jane take a sip of her iced tea before she laid her fork on her plate, put both of her hands on the table, and looked at him with lit with intention. “I have questions.”

Bucky nodded, setting his silverware down as well, knowing this was almost certainly why Jane had sought him out. “Shoot.”

Jane shook her head, unable to keep the mystified look out of her eyes. “It’s so weird to hear her coming out of your mouth. She called me ‘pal’ and a ‘peach’ yesterday. I’m betting those are phrases you use quite a bit?”

He really hoped he’d get better at separating what were his and what were Darcy’s mannerisms. Everything was still so new and he was doing everything he could to keep from going mad with it all. “Less than you’d think, but if she didn’t use them before… yeah, it’s probably me.”

“She explained everything that happened. I get most of it, but there’s a couple things I’d like understand better.”

Bucky looked skeptically at her. “I’ll do my best but I can’t promise I’ll be much help. This is more her area.”

“Of course. Okay. She accidentally gave you a part of her soul, and that’s what made it so you could tell something bad was going to happen to her? Why you ran to her?”

Bucky’d been trying to figure that part of it for days now. How had he known Darcy was in trouble? He’d seen that emerald green, her emerald green, as it hit him, and suddenly he knew where she was, what she was doing, and what was wrong. He didn’t see her, her physical form, but he saw her colors, knew she was missing a part, knew that it was a bad thing. Bucky knew what it was to be missing pieces of himself, knew that feeling in intimate detail. Maybe that’d made the difference. He couldn’t be sure.

He looked across the table at Jane, uncertain how to explain that he’d been broken for so long that he knew when someone else was about to break, too.

“I saw her and knew it. I don’t -”

“That’s okay. That’s not my big question anyway.” Jane leaned forward, freezing him with her whiskey eyes, her gaze filled with analytical fire. “If you knew she needed a piece of soul to keep this big bad stone monster from getting into her, why didn’t you just give her back the bit of her soul she’d just given you?”

It took a moment for Jane’s question to make sense. When it did, Bucky sat back in his chair, lips parting as he slowly let the air out of his lungs.

Had that been an option? It hadn’t seemed like it at the time. He’d been so terrified for her, afraid of what would happen if he didn’t fix it, if he didn’t keep her safe. Was it something he could have done, giving her back what she’d given him? Or was Darcy the only one who could give and take parts of her own soul? If he’d had a choice, would he have chosen to make it all go away?

The second he’d seen that emerald haze he’d been bombarded by images, Darcy’s entire life in the span of a few seconds; every happy moment, every mistake, every bit of violence and abandonment she’d had to endure. It’d all been there, fresh in his memories, his heart gripped with fear as he ran. Had that influenced what he’d done?

Had he been unwilling to become just one more person in Darcy’s life that threw her away without a second thought?

Bucky shook his head. Seeing the hurt in Steve’s eyes was agony, falling asleep without him like torture, and he was terrified to the core at the prospect of losing him, but he couldn’t relinquish what he now shared with Darcy.

“I don’t know if I could have done anything different, but I wouldn’t change anything if I could.”

He watched Jane’s mind move behind those eyes, brilliant and logical, turning over his answer. One of her thoughts must have stuck, because she grabbed her fork and began eating again. Unsure if he’d said the right thing, he let the silence descend over them as they ate.

After what seemed like hours but was probably only five minutes, Jane looked up at him with a raised eyebrow and a quizzical look on her face. “Do you share her taste in music?”

“Hell no,” Bucky said with feeling, frowning around his mouth full of chicken. “Screaming is not music.”

Jane stuck her fork out in his direction, vindication lighting her features. “Thank you!”

“Ma’am, Boss is outside and he’d like to know if you’re up for visitors.”

Darcy looked up toward the ceiling, still not sure how the whole A.I. thing worked. Could it see everything she did? If so, it’d been witness to countless crying jags over the last three days. And it was a woman’s voice, so was it a she? She supposed the person to ask was outside her door. “Yes, you may let Tony Stark enter my domicile!”

“You don’t have to yell. She can hear you,” Tony said with a roll of his eyes as he pushed through her door and let it fall shut behind him.

“So it is a girl?”

Tony stuffed his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels, gaze looking up toward the ceiling. “Friday?”

“Technically I have no gender, but Boss thought people would be more at ease with a female voice.”

Darcy nodded, watching as Tony made his way around her room. He leaned in to read the titles of some of the books Jane had brought her, then flicked her bamboo plant with his finger. When the silence was breezing toward awkward, she felt compelled to say something. “Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Stark?”

He clicked his tongue as he glanced in her direction. “Come on. I’ve brought you breakfast in bed. I think that puts us on a first-name basis.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I have years of you hating me in here,” Darcy said, putting a finger to her temple and tapping it, “so it’s still all a little new.”

Darcy tried not to flinch as he swung his head to look at her, seriousness in the brown of his eyes. “So you really have everything in there? Full transfer of memories?” She nodded. He let out a huff of air, his chin dropping so he was looking down at his sneakers. “Well that’s…”

“All kinds of f*cked up? Yeah.” She sighed, rearranging herself on her bed, setting the pillow aside. “You can sit if you want.”

Tony nodded but made no move toward her and didn’t lift his head. Darcy didn’t know what to do, so she picked at the hole in her jeans, pulling at a thread. She heard him take a deep breath in, almost like he was gathering himself. It wasn’t everyday that someone could unnerve Tony Stark, but she supposed finding out that two people remembered killing your parents could be bitch to accept. “Tony, I’m sor -”

“No. Nope. Don’t do that. It wasn’t you.” He looked up at her then, and she could see the emotion in his eyes as he pinned her with his gaze. “I can’t… no. We’re not going to talk about it, okay? I’m putting a full embargo on that right now, you get me?”

Sighing, Darcy nodded her head. It wasn’t like it was a conversation she’d been looking forward to, anyway. And as much as she knew Bucky tore himself up over it, over every life he’d taken as The Soldier, it wasn’t hers to push. The turmoil of emotions when she looked at Tony was hard enough to process; Bucky carried so much guilt and frustration, and when it mixed with her overall friendly feeling toward Tony (aside from the douchey nicknames he kept calling her), it made for a pretty big span of emotions. “I get you, Tony.”

“See? I think that sounds better, don’t you?” He came closer to Darcy, looking out the window beside her bed but leaving his back to her.

Darcy moved so her feet hung over the side of the bed, hands beside her, brushing over the comforter. The blanket didn’t actually comfort her at all, and she had every intention of replacing it as soon as possible. But that would require getting cleared to leave this place, and she didn’t see that happening any time soon.

She remembered what it felt to lose her arm, and then have it replaced with a prosthetic, and even though she hated the blanket, being able to feel the fabric when the fingers of her left hand? It was amazing, but she really hoped she’d get the hang of separating her feelings from Bucky’s. It was all a little much. She glanced up at Tony, who seemed absolutely dead set on making this meeting as awkward as possible. “Are you -”

“How are you doing?” Tony interrupted as he turned, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the window as he peered at her. “I mean physically. Seeing any side effects? You’re not shining like a glowstick at the world’s worst rave anymore, so that’s something.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess that is something.”

She took a deep breath and thought about what he was asking. Had she noticed any side effects? Her emotions had been up and down for the past few days, but seeing as one of the men she loved wanted nothing to do with her, that could pretty much be explained away. She didn’t ache, or hurt, or feel any different. Besides how completely not normal she felt, things seemed to be okay. “I haven’t noticed anything, no.”

“Colors are still there?”

“Well, yeah.”

“And you’ve talked to Banner?” When she shook her head, Tony sighed, pushing off the window. “Really? I thought we talked about this.”

“We didn’t talk. You talked at me. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been a bit preoccupied with things lately, so forgive me if I haven’t gotten around to setting up an appointment with him yet.”

“It won’t get better unt -”

“Please, spare me the lecture, okay? I’m not a child. I know things are f*cked and they’re not going to get better without work, but I’d really like to float on my sea of self-loathing for a bit longer, if that’s alright with you.”

When she watched his eyebrows raise in response to her angry word vomit, Darcy groaned and hid her face with her hands. She could tell some of the frustration was hers, but it was hard to know where her frustration ended and Bucky’s guilt started. “f*ck you both need to work on your issues because it is annoying as sh*t. Just beat the hell out of each other and get it over with.”

Of course, as those words came out of her mouth, she realized that he and Bucky had beat the hell out of each other and it’d done nothing to help the situation. At all.

Darcy dropped her hands to her sides, head hanging as her shoulders began to shake. This was getting so old, this vascilation of emotions back and forth, digging through his memories and her own, trying to reconcile the rolling sea inside of her. The heartache only seemed to amplify the internal dissonance, leaving her an emotional basketcase.

“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered in between gasps of air, fingers fisting in the fabric below her.

She felt the bed dip as Tony took a seat next to her. He didn’t say anything, just sat there while she cried. When most of the tears had subsided, she ran a sleeve over her nose, not caring how disgusting she was. It wasn’t like anyone could come close enough to tou -

Darcy’s hazel eyes blinked and turned to look at Tony, the colors taking over; he was black, oil, a sheen of blue and purple, a beautiful shimmering silver running through his middle. Darcy’s non-eyes looked down, not seeing his hand, but feeling the heat of it where it rested on hers, that undercurrent of silver bleeding onto her emerald green.

Shoulders starting to shake anew, Darcy blinked away the tears and looked at him, real and there and looking back at her with actual empathy in his eyes. “Should you be -”

“Probably not,” Tony said, letting out a breath, like he hadn’t been sure what would happen when he touched her, “but we theorized that unless you specifically attempt to use your powers, the whole soul transferring thing would be in a kind of remission. We couldn’t think of a way to test it, so I thought I’d do something stupid, too. Seems to be the theme of the last few days.”

Darcy searched his gaze for a long time, trying to see any kind of ulterior motive. “Why would you risk it?”

Tony looked down at their hands, moving until their palms were pressed together, squeezing softly. “Because you risked it for me. And them. And everyone else. You had no idea what would happen when you touched that stone, but you did it anyway, which was enormously stupid and also kind of amazing.”

“But mostly stupid.”

“So stupid I can’t even explain it in words.” Tony’s smile widened when she laughed softly, squeezing his hand back.

Darcy leaned her body against his, shoulders touching, taking a deep breath in. She hadn’t realized she’d been so touch starved until he’d grabbed her hand. It was such a little thing, simple and platonic, but right then it was exactly what she needed. Simply taking comfort from a friend, or what she thought might one day become a friend.

“So what happens now?”

“Hopefully you take a shower because you look like sh*t, kiddo. Do you even own a hairbrush?” When Darcy pulled back to glare at him, his lips curling into a smirk. “Not the answer you were looking for?”

“No, you dick.”

Tony shrugged his shoulders. “My suggestion would be to ask Bruce to sit down with you, explain a little of what he has to do, how he keeps the green guy caged up. Then we go from there.”

Darcy nodded, leaning back against him. “Okay.”

The silence in her room was companionable. Not awkward, just nice. Darcy drunk in the heat from another body, feeling the compassion that Tony kept hidden behind his jagged exterior walls.

“Hey, Tony?”

“Yeah, champ?”

“Can I paint the walls in here? They’re ugly as f*ck.”

“Sure, pumpkin. Go to town.”

Chapter 7: War of Hearts

Chapter Text

He’d been checking in on Darcy regularly, knowing how broken up she was about everything, but both of them were afraid to spend too much time together. It seemed wrong, somehow, not having Steve there with them. And Steve wasn’t there, always one step ahead, never staying in one place too long.

Bucky had breezed past ‘sad’, waved as ‘guilty’ went by, and had stopped at ’pissed the f*ck off’. He knew Steve was a good man, the best man he’d ever known, but damn the punk could be stubborn as f*ck. He hadn’t been able to utter a word to the blond since Darcy’d woken up in the med ward and they’d tried explaining what had happened. That Steve was refusing to talk to him was so annoying that, even though he didn’t share the same abilities as Darcy, he was seeing red everywhere

Lifting his metal hand, Bucky knocked heavily on the door, the muscle in his jaw ticking at being clenched so tightly. As the door pulled inward, he opened his mouth, intent on making it clear to Natasha that if she was helping Steve hide from him that they were going to have issues. But it wasn’t the copper-haired spy that answered the door. It was Barton. Bucky tried to look into the room over the blond’s shoulder, but the archer hadn’t opened it wide enough.

“Is Nat here?”

Clint shook his head, leaning against the doorjamb with his shoulder. “On a mission. What’s up?”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed. “Did she say how long she’d be gone? I wasn’t informed of an Op.”

If Natasha was gone, it was possible Steve was gone, too. Could that be why he wasn’t around? Steve always made sure Bucky knew if he was going on a mission, thought, but he hadn’t said anything. Would Steve being on a mission make Bucky feel better, or worse? Neither. Both.

“Personal errand, no ETA,” Clint answered. He lifted an apple to his mouth and took a bite. “S’thing I can help with?”

“No.”

Bucky took a few steps away from the door then, against his better judgment, turned back to the blond in the doorway. He’d never liked asking for help, and he wasn’t particularly close with Barton, but he was quickly running out of options. “Have you… seen Steve?”

“Cap? Why? Something happen?”

Bucky watched him chew around the apple, seeing the small change behind Barton’s gaze. He hadn’t answered the question, and Bucky’d caught the omission. He knows, Bucky thought, his eyes narrowing at the other man. And if he knows, Natasha told him. And if Natasha knows…

“If you see him, will you let him know we need talk?” He watched Barton nod, taking another bite of his apple. Sighing, Bucky left him in the open doorway. He’d gotten halfway down the hall when he heard Barton clear his throat.

“Hey, Barnes? If you were to talk to Steve, what would you want to say to him?”

Bucky knew it.; Steve was there, in that room, just beyond where Barton was standing, he knew it with every fiber of his being.

Schooling his voice, not screaming ‘stop being a child!’ like he wanted to, Bucky took careful steps back, standing in front of Barton with cool eyes. “You mean like if he was in the room behind you and could hear my voice?”

Bucky watched the corner of Barton’s mouth turn up into a smirk. “Yeah, that is exactly what I mean.”

A flurry of responses swirled around Bucky’s head, most of them involving vulgar language that would have made even the Howling Commandos clutch their pearls. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I would tell him that we need to talk about what happened, so I can explain better. There’s a lot he doesn’t understand and I want to make sure he doesn’t get things twisted.”

Clint nodded, taking another bite of apple. “That it?”

Sighing, Bucky’s hands fisted at his sides. He didn’t want to play telephone, and some of the things he wanted to tell Steve - like how he missed seeing him when he woke up, couldn’t sleep without his warmth, felt lost without his touch - he refused to do through Barton. “I’d tell him he knows where to find me when he’s ready to talk. But it needs to be soon. Real soon.”

Bucky ground his teeth, blowing air out through his nose.

“...and that I miss him.”

It was the most vulnerable thing he was willing to say when Steve wasn’t standing in front of him.

Pushing off the doorway, Clint gave Bucky a solid nod. “Sounds pretty reasonable to me,” he said, pointing at the larger man with his half-eaten fruit. “I’ll let you know if I see him, and let Nat know you were looking for her.”

Bucky nodded, watching as the door shut. He swallowed, looking down the nondescript hallway, before he started in the direction of Darcy’s room.

*

“I take it you heard all that, with your super soldier ears and what not,” Clint said, turning toward Steve with a raised eyebrow as he shut the door to their room.

“Yeah, I heard it. Thanks, by the way, for not saying outright that I was in here,” Steve said, frowning at Clint.

“Hey, I don’t want to get in the middle of your whole thing, but you’re hiding out in our room, so I’m kind of already in the middle of it.” Clint walked until he could lean against his desk, sharp gaze pinning Steve as he sat on the bed.

As much as he wanted to continue glaring at Clint, Steve sighed and ran a hand over his face. “I’m not hiding out.”

“Steve, come on. You’re Captain Freaking America. You’re sh*t at lying.” Clint watched Steve’s blue gaze focus on him, and it was not an altogether friendly look. “I got the cliff notes from Nat. I don’t entirely get it, but speaking as someone who got f*cked with pretty hard by one of those goddamn stones, sometimes they make you do things that you can’t really control.”

Steve looked up at Clint then, knowing that it wasn’t easy for the archer to remember what he’d done when he was under the influence of Loki and the Tesseract. “This is different.”

“How so? One of those pieces of costume jewelry made something happen and now you’re looking at the aftermath. I don’t know Lewis all that well, but I saw her in New Mexico. She didn’t ask to be thrown into the middle of this. We do the best we can, day to day. Some days are better than others.”

Shoulders lifting and falling with a heavy sigh, Steve stood, giving Clint a small smile. He understood what Clint was trying to do, but he just needed more time to wrap his head around it all. “Thanks for… everything.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Steve crossed to the door, listening for any movement on the other side. Satisfied Bucky wasn’t just camping in the hall, waiting for him to leave, Steve pulled the door open.

“Hey Cap?”

He turned, looking back at Clint. “Yeah?”

“He looked rough.”

Looking down at the ground, avoiding Barton’s gaze so the archer couldn’t see the flash of guilt in his eyes, Steve nodded. He didn’t know what to say to that, the feeling of his chest constricting making words impossible, so he left Barton in the room and shut the door behind him.

“Ah. Bruce. We were just coming to see you.”

Bruce’s eyebrows raised as Tony and a frowning Darcy made their way into his lab. He cast a look around, making sure everything was picked up and nothing time sensitive needed to be taken care of. “Uh, yeah. I’m here. Something I can do for you?”

“Yes, there is.”

Bruce watched Darcy pull on her sleeve as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “But only if you’re not busy.”

“He’s not busy, peaches, look at him!” Tony gestured toward Bruce with his hands. “He’s the very definition of not busy, right Bruce?”

Realization dawned on Bruce as he remembered talking with Tony a few days prior. “Um, yeah. I’m not busy.”

“See? Perfect timing.”

Darcy knew when she was being jerked around, and she had half a mind to reach out and punch Tony in the arm. Figuring she had nothing to lose, she did so, earning a yelp of surprise and a glare from the billionaire. “Hey!”

“Ignore him,” Darcy said, gaze swinging back toward Bruce, heat pinkening her cheeks. “I can come back if this is a bad time.”

“No. This is a good time, Darcy, really. Tony said you wanted to sit down, uh, maybe have me go over some of the control techniques I use?”

Pretty sure Tony was playing both of them, even if it was with the best intentions, Darcy nodded at the scientist. “I’m still having trouble controlling when the colors come in and out, and the feeling of dizziness when I think about everything too hard.”

Bruce nodded, sweeping his hands toward the small sitting area tucked in the corner of his space. Darcy took a seat on a couch as he sat in an office chair and rolled until he was facing her, leaving enough space that she didn’t feel crowded.

“You need anything else from me, peanut, or are you good?”

Darcy turned up to pin Tony with a glare at his use of the nickname, but it softened when she realized he meant the words. “I’m fine.”

“Perfect.” Tony squeezed her shoulder, throwing a nod in Bruce’s direction before making his way out of the lab.

It was quiet as the door closed, leaving Darcy and Bruce looking awkwardly at each other. Sure, they’d spent time together when she’d been stuck in the med ward, when he’d been running every medical test imaginable in an effort to figure out what the hell had happened to her, but this was really the first time they’d sat one-on-one with each other without a syringe or the need for a backless hospital gown.

Bruce cleared his throat, squeezing his own knees as he looked at her. “Do you want me to just do an overview, or…”

She shrugged, “I guess? Tony made it seem like you were some kind of guru who could teach me how to use the force, harness my chi, grab the horse by the reins, or some other kind of metaphor.”

Bruce laughed softly, nodding his head. “He would think that. I guess, I should start at the beginning.”

Darcy had never heard the real story about what - or who - lived inside Bruce, and hearing it from the source himself had been quite the eye opener. She breathed a long sigh outward, nodding at him impressively. “Yeah. I could see how you might need some yoga after all that.”

“It’s not yoga, not really, but it has a lot of the same principals. If I feel my control slipping, if I’m losing myself because there’s too much noise in my head, I shut it out. When you’re at your lowest, you have to shut everything else out. You have to go to the quiet place inside of yourself. When you start trying there’ll be times that you won’t get there, when everything else won’t fade. I still slip sometimes. It’s not an exam, you’re not going to ace every test. You just keep trying.”

Bruce wasn’t sure if he was explaining this right, or if it would do any good for Darcy at all, but he was more than willing to try. “People call it transcendental meditation, but I just think of it as ‘anti-noise’. Choosing to listen to yourself instead of anything else. It’s your body, and while you might not always be able to control it, you can decide how to manage and deal with it as it happens.”

“Choosing to see things on the sunnyside of life?” Darcy asked, raising a wry eyebrow in his direction.

“Not sunny, just realistic.”

She nodded, really trying to understand what he was saying. The idea of everything going quiet sounded amazing, but she’d never found it easy to be still. Literally moving every six months had made Darcy scared when the waters were placid for too long. “Sometimes I have too much in my head,” she tried explaining, “too many thoughts, emotions, memories. I can’t grasp the whole situation until it’s one giant ball of suck and I don’t know how to get past it.”

Bruce nodded knowingly. “You have to unpack. Rip everything apart and lay it side by side instead of a ball of… suck.” When she smiled at him, he gave her a small one of his own. “I have a mantra in my head that I repeat, that centers me when I find myself off kilter.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t want to say. It’s mine, and I’m the one that gives it strength. You need to find one for yourself. Something that works for you. It might not be a word, it might be a phrase, or a song, or you might start humming.”

Darcy laughed. “Kind of like when they tell mothers in labor to hum through the pain?”

He considered her question. “Yeah. You’re blotting out the noise with something else, letting you focus on what’s inside.”

He’d made it seem so easy, but Darcy didn’t believe it. “Focus on inside?”

“Focus and make all the things easier to see, lay them out one by one. Give it a try. Close your eyes.”

She gave him a dubious look, but as he continued to look at her with that steady, unwavering gaze, she sighed, letting her eyes fall closed.

It took a concerted effort, a force of will, really, to keep the colors away. They were there, on the edge of her vision, but she refused to let them bleed all the way. She was trying to control when they came, be able to harness them for some kind of purpose. Knowing when someone was lying to you was great and all, but there were people out there who could already do that without super soul-stone powers.

She gritted her teeth, trying to listen to herself. Darcy wasn’t sure that was a great idea, though, because her thoughts immediately turned toward the largest additions to her life, besides her new ‘gifts’.

Bucky would come see her, hold her hand, hug her, but neither of them allowed anything more than innocent touches. It wasn’t right, and despite how not innocent she wanted their touches to be, they wouldn’t. Not until they’d gotten it all figured out. Not until their third was there with them.

Their third. Nothing felt right when Steve wasn’t there. She’d only met the man a handful of times, but he’d been there her whole life. She’d grown up with him, fought beside him, loved him, lost him, found him again. Darcy was a mess, and there was no way for her to see where she stopped and they began. Her boys that weren’t hers, not really.

What was she supposed to do? Steve had gone AWOL, a term she now understood remarkably well, and any hope of communication or explanation was gone. She ached in ways she had never thought possible, missed him in her bones. Steve and Bucky were hers. She was theirs. It was so simple, but so unbelievably complicated at the same time.

It was fraught, and frustrating and not okay and she was not coping well at all.

“Uh, Darcy?”

If Bucky didn’t corner him soon, if they couldn’t talk to him and try to explain that she hadn’t meant for all of this to happen and she would never put herself between him and Bucky, make him see how much he meant to her… she was going to explode. Burst into a million little pieces and litter the ground like broken and bloody confetti.

“Darcy.”

And Bucky? He’d been through so much. She remembered it all in horrible vivid technicolor. Every bullet he fired, before the fall and after. The pain of being wiped, the way he’d begin to remember, only for the memory to be stolen once again, frozen and thawed, over and over. It was horrific and she honestly didn’t know how he handled it. How did he not just give into the darkness?

“Darcy!”

Eyes flying open at the sound of her name being shouted, Darcy looked into the very concerned eyes of Bruce Banner, who was standing in front of her. “What?” When he nodded in her direction, she looked down.

She was glowing. She was lit from within by an unearthly amber light, like a star swallowed, like a jewel being lit by the sun. She could see wisps of smoke-like power curling in the air around her. Her heart seized, worried that she’d stayed too long, that she’d go to that place and ruin two more lives. “No. No no no!”

“It’s alright.” Bruce had watched her begin to glow, faint at first but then growing stronger, his mind a mix of worry and intrigue. This didn’t look like it had in the chamber, when she’d formed her connection with Barnes. This looked more like the first day, when she’d woken up after they’d transported her to the compound. He’d hesitate to call it ‘contained’, but it didn’t seem to be a danger, either.

“This is nowhere near alright, doc.”

“Sure it is. Just take my hand.”

“What?! No! I could hurt you.”

Bruce took another step toward her, hand outstretched, “I don’t think so, I think you’re doing just fine. You just need to work on it a little bit. Let me help you.”

Darcy shook her head sharply. “I can’t.”

“Yes you can. Come on, take my hand.”

Hazel eyes, quickly filling with disaster, blinked at him. He looked so calm, so comforting. But he’d have to be, wouldn’t he? The thing that lived inside him, all the time, just under the surface? Darcy knew he’d helped, that they’d willingly and happily fought side by side with the ‘Green Guy’ as Tony called him, but it still scared her. “Are you sure?”

“Trust me.”

Darcy took a deep breath, hand shaking as she hesitantly reached out and placed her hand in his. When she felt no rush, no colors, no barrage of new memories and emotions, she laughed, tinged with stress and relief as a tear leaked out of one eye. “I’m doing it,” she said, her laughter bubbly and slightly manic. “Holy sh*t!”

Her hands were still shaking, her eyes wide, but as she looked at her hand in his, still glowing but nothing else, Darcy couldn’t help the wave of comfort that his touch brought her.

“And I’m not in love with you!”

Bruce’s eyes widened at the look on her face and her words. “Yay?”

That only made her laugh harder, and she reached out with her other hand, taking both of his, fingers gripping at him. She was giddy, body vibrating with relief, her heart racing. For the first time since she’d come out of that metal tube with Bucky’s memories in her head, she felt a little bit of control. “Okay, Doc, now how do I turn off the lights?”

“Do you want to be glowing right now?”

“f*ck no.”

“They say ‘no’ and put the light away.”

Darcy snorted. “It’s that easy?”

He shook his head. “Not at all. But you still need to do it.”

The truth in his eyes, that sometimes you didn’t think you could do something but had to do it anyway, put a power in her stomach. She clenched her teeth and nodded. As Darcy continued to look into his kind brown eyes, she thought about the part inside of her that made her glow, that painted her world in colors, the part the stone lived in, and told it ‘no’.

It didn’t listen, so she told it ’f*ck no’.

It wasn’t until she had started on a tirade, with a whole new set of vocabulary thanks to Bucky’s memories and the filth that had been born on those Brooklyn streets, that she watched her skin quiet and the light fade away.

When she was left there, skin the same pasty white it’d been upon entering Bruce’s lab, she let out a heavy breath, her shoulders sagging and head hanging. She felt utterly and completely drained, an exhaustion she could feel in every pore and muscle in her body.

“You okay?” Bruce squeezed her hands, watching her deflate like some kind of balloon.

“I did it,” she whispered, looking up at him through the curtain of dark curls around her face. “And it f*cking sucked.”

Bruce smiled when she looked up at him, fatigue in her eyes. “What was that bit about not being in love with me?”

Darcy slowly, feeling like she was swimming through molasses, pulled her hands out of his. “Oh, that thing? Forget it. Not important.”

“Is that what happened with Bar -”

“Friday, do you think you could ring Tony and let him know he can come fetch me now?” Darcy looked back from where she’d been yelling at the ceiling. At Bruce’s look, she shrugged her ridiculously heavy shoulders. “He promised me ice cream and paint. It’s a long story.”

“Seems like you have a few long stories in you.”

“From your mouth to David Bowie’s ears.”

Chapter 8: Wounds That Never Show

Chapter Text

Darcy was dreaming. Or remembering. It was hard to tell these days, as everything seemed to blend together in her head. Darcy knew what memories were hers, and what were Bucky’s, but the feeling that accompanied them was… heavy. And real. So, so very real.

She was still being avoided, and it hurt. It hurt like fire and thirst. She knew why, and she’d even agree that she’d done something wrong, crossed a line (like she always did), but it didn’t make her ache any less for a man she’d only just met and known for the whole of her life. It’d been almost a week now, almost a week since she’d shared her soul with Bucky, and Steve had been a ghost. She hadn’t seen him on the grounds, or in the cafeteria. It was almost like he was having Friday make sure he was alerted where she was so he wouldn’t run into her.

Was he? Was he doing that? f*ck, what if he was? Did he hate her that much? Would she survive if he did?

“Ma’am, Sergeant Barnes is at your door. Would you like me to let him in?”

Darcy blinked at Friday’s voice, gaze sliding from the spot she’d been glaring at the floor and swinging toward her door. She blinked again, this time letting the colors bleed into her world, and there he was. Crimson, charcoal and cerulean, with just a hint of emerald. He hadn’t knocked, content to stand on the other side of the door, most likely glowering at it. He was so very good at glowering, her Bucky.

“Yeah,” she answered, hearing the metal lock slide open.

She watched him stand there for a few more seconds, no doubt trying to gather the strength to inform her, yet again, that Steve had managed to dodge him. Finally, he pushed the door open, stepping silently into the room and letting the door fall closed behind him.

Bucky hesitated, back against the door. Darcy was sitting on the couch at the end of her bed, legs pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around her knees, giant fuzzy socks on her feet. Absently he noted that the walls were no longer the drab grey that the rest of the housing wing consisted of. They were now a deep burgundy. It made the room seem cozier, warmer, more alive.

Just like Darcy, he thought, eyes drinking her in, instantly feeling guilt at how his body reacted to her. It still felt wrong, and so right, and it was eating him up.

Darcy looked at him, the darkness and guilt bare in his grey eyes. It wasn’t like she knew his current thoughts, but she knew him and knew he was blaming himself. Just like she was. They were sharing the blame and wading in the guilt, feeling it creep higher and higher over their bodies.

What a f*cking pair we are.

“Come here,” she said, holding a hand out to him. He hesitated (she understood why), then crossed the room, threading their fingers together. The second their skin touched it felt like the air in the room had lightened, like a weight she hadn’t known had been lifted from her shoulders. She knew he felt the same, and that only made her feel more guilty.

“I don’t know how to explain it to him,” Bucky growled, reaching out to push a lock of hair behind her ear where it’d come loose from her braid. It’d only been days, but her touch was familiar, like a balm. Little things; the holding of hands, the brushing of shoulders, the heat of her body against his. It didn’t matter what it was, touching her made him feel better like nothing else could. They were only missing their third.

“I know,” Darcy said, leaning against the side of his body, smelling the cologne Steve had bought for him, recognizing it and, underneath it all, Bucky. “I feel gutted. I’m scum. I’m less than scum. I’m the stuff scum people feed their scum dogs.”

He shook his head, eyes falling closed as his hand held hers like a lifeline. Bucky didn’t know how to fix this, and it was driving him mad. He needed both of them, had to have them, both, together. “If I hadn’t -”

“Given me part of your soul so that some giant cosmic force hadn’t taken residence inside of me and used it as a foothold to destroy everything in the universe? Yeah. I know. Still f*cking sucks.”

Even though the silence that fell between them was comfortable, it still felt awful. Darcy knew what it was to love Steve Rogers, to know him intimately, to love all of him, his loyalty and stubbornness, his absolute conviction, his desire to do what was right, above everything else. And just as she knew what it felt like to love him, she now knew what it felt like to lose him, too.

“Do we give him space?” she asked, lifting her head to look at him.

“He’s already taken that, doll. Hasn’t been in our room for days.”

“I know.”

It only took an errant thought for Darcy to find him. Steve was in one of the weight rooms in the very east of the compound, as far away as he could get. The first time she’d looked for him after everything, she’d been confused. She’d looked everywhere for that brilliant gold, only to find him in a far flung wing of the compound, muted and muddy. The blue was still there, dark and strobing, but something in him was… not as shiny.

And it was all her fault.

It grew silent in the room, and Bucky let the tumble of thoughts in his head take over, looking at the fuzzy socks she wore, covered in pictures of little fluffy sheep. As his thoughts so often did, they flashed back to what it’d been like before Hydra, before his fall, before the war and his unit shipping out, back to the streets of Brooklyn and the tiny, feisty blond he was constantly bailing out of fights because he didn’t know when to quit.

Bucky’s lips twitched into a familiar smirk. “You remember that time he got so hopping mad he stopped talking to me for over a week?”

Darcy frowned, shuffling between the two lives worth of memories in her head. Finally, her mouth turned upward in a small smile. “It was sweltering.”

“Mmmhmmm. Brooklyn, disgusting with summer haze, the smell of garbage rotting in the alleys. Nine whole days without a word, filled with righteous fury when I said maybe he wasn’t meant to be a soldier, that maybe he’d be safer just staying home. All because I hated the thought of him being in danger, or getting hurt, or losing him.”

Bucky looked down at their laced fingers, remembering the hurt and anger in Steve’s blue gaze, eyes so big, his heart and courage too large for his small body. “But he came back. He always comes back. The punk’s spent his whole life chasing after me. Maybe it’s time I return the favor, chase after him a bit.”

She nodded, shoulders lifting and falling with a sigh. “I tried explaining to Jane that it’s hard for me to sleep because he’s not there. I don’t…” Darcy pulled her hand from his, running both of hers over her face.

It was too hard to explain that you missed something you never really had.

“I’d say I’ll sleep here tonight...” Bucky said, eyes sliding to look in hers as he trailed off.

“... but neither of us want to be without him, even if it means being together,” she finished, throwing a knowing and sad smile in his direction. “We’re so many levels of f*cked up.”

“A hot mess,” Bucky agreed, shaking his head, the words tasting horrible even as they fell out of his mouth. “What a stupid expression.”

They both laughed, leaning against each other, taking comfort. Eventually the laughter faded and they were left there, heartsick and aching. “Tell me this is going to be okay,” she begged, voice pleading, eyes filling with tears as she looked down at her hands, “tell me I didn’t just rip the heart out of three people for no f*cking reason.”

“Darce, it wasn’t just you. I did it, all the same.” And he had. If his conversation with Jane had illuminated anything about what had happened, it was that he had made a choice, consciously or unconsciously, and he’d chosen her. “I went seventy years without that man, I’m not going to let him go now. Not now. You believe me? Hey. Look at me.”

Darcy looked at him then, the look in her eyes breaking his heart, watching the first tear roll down her cheek. “We’re going to figure this out, Darcy. We’ve been through worse. This is just a drop in the ocean.”

She nodded, sending more tears down her cheeks. Darcy wanted him to kiss her, to whisper against her lips that everything was going to be fine, her body aching for it until she couldn’t feel anything but hurt. “I believe you, Buck.”

Bucky’s thumb brushed away another tear, fingers sifting through her hair until he held the back of her neck, pressing his forehead to hers, taking a deep breath. He couldn’t bear the look in her eyes anymore than he could bear the misery in his heart. He let the breath out slowly, mind determined on a plan of action. “I might have do something monumentally stupid.”

She laughed, sniffling through her tears. “Oh, goodie. A play straight from the Darcy Lewis Handbook.”

The Avengers compound really did have everything. Darcy’d asked Friday where she could wash her clothes and the A.I. had told her if she put her laundry in the garment bag from the back of her closet and left it outside her door, it would be picked up and cleaned for her. Arguing with Friday had been interesting, but in the end Darcy had prevailed, being shown where she could find a washer and dryer so she could do her own goddamned laundry, thank you very much.

Darcy didn’t have a lot to do these days. She couldn’t leave the compound, though she was this close to convincing Tony to take her on a walk around the grounds, if only for the change of scenery. She couldn’t work (Jane was sciencing ‘off campus’ so to speak), didn’t want to just wander the halls aimlessly, and one could only watch so much horrible daytime and reality TV. She had cabin fever bad, with no metaphorical light at the end of a metaphorical tunnel.

As she sat on top of the washing machine, legs swinging, the last of her clothes finishing in the dryer, she swiped her finger against the iPod Jane had given her. The compound was much too quiet for Darcy, despite the hundreds of people that worked and lived there, and she’d been going insane from the stillness. Her best friend had provided her with a solution, but Jane didn’t have the same (amazing) musical taste that Darcy had, so finding something in the library that she liked was proving difficult.

“Damn it Jane, we’re going to need an intervention for your obviously unhealthy obsession with Michael Buble.”

Finally, after a good half hour of looking, Darcy settled on Alanis Morissette circa 1995. She folded her laundry, listening to the music of horrible junior high formals where you had to ‘leave room for Jesus’ when you danced with a boy. She was more than happy to focus on music and her laundry, instead of the relentless ache she felt every moment when her mind was allowed to wander.

Darcy threw the last t-shirt in the basket and turned, humming to herself, before she let out a rather undignified scream. Natasha Romanoff was standing right there, green eyes cool, face immobile and expressionless. The basket and her iPod hit the ground with a clatter as Darcy’s heart rate raced.

“Пау́к!”

Even as the words left her mouth, Darcy knew it was a mistake. It was almost imperceptible, but she saw recognition in Natasha’s eyes, her pupils dilating slightly at the nickname. Whatever knowledge she could draw from Bucky’s memories was washed away as the copper-haired assassin took a step toward her.

“No. You don’t get to call me that,” Natasha said, green eyes regarding Darcy cooly.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t… I mean I wouldn’t… it just -”

“Stop talking.”

Darcy’s mouth snapped closed with a clack of teeth. She was pretty sure that if she even thought about pulling from Bucky’s memories, Natasha would know and punish her for it.

Natasha waited until the pretty girl’s eyes had filled with enough fear before she opened her mouth. “I saw what happened with the stone. I was there. I know what you did for us. Thank you.” She watched Darcy’s internal struggle on whether she should respond, glad when she thought better of it and said nothing. “Steve Rogers is one of the best men I know, a better friend than I deserve. Bucky is… well, our relationship is complicated.”

Darcy swallowed, nodding her head softly. She did know. Everything that had to do with the Red Room was hazy. If she wanted to, she could draw those memories to the surface, analyze them in more detail, but something kept her from doing so. Perhaps it was naive, even with all the horrible things she knew Hydra had done to Bucky, but the thought of little girls being trained as killers, their childhoods stolen, their bodies used... that was something she didn’t want to know.

Everything after the battle had been chaos, digging through the rubble, taking the tally of dead and injured. Natasha was surprised they hadn’t lost more people than they had. No one expected to make it out of the fight, but they’d all gone anyway. They’d known what the odds were. Darcy Lewis and Jane Foster being so near the front lines wasn’t in the plan, but Natasha knew improvising was a priceless skill in dire situations.

The dark-haired woman in front of her had improvised and saved a lot of lives. Natasha could be grateful, and she was, but it was hard to see Steve hurting. She’d meant what she’d said: being able to count Steve as a good friend, even family, was more than she deserved. It was hard to watch the dimness in his eyes, the slight hunch in his shoulders. She’d been trained to read microexpressions, though she didn’t need special training to know her friend was aching.

...but she could see the same affliction in the woman before her. She’d initially come to watch Darcy, test her, get a better read on her. Natasha got it now, that Steve wasn’t the only one hurting, and the words she’d built up in her head were worthless.

“Steve’s been staying with me,” Natasha said, watching relief wash into Darcy’s eyes. “I just thought you should know that he’s safe.”

A knot in Darcy’s chest loosened at Natasha’s words, her heart rate slowing, her worry and fear easing slightly. It would have been easy to look for Steve again, letting the colors show her where he was, but seeing his colors so muted and lackluster... all it’d do was hurt. So she’d stopped herself; she was already hurting enough. Knowing that he was safe and not alone made her feel the tiniest bit better.

“Bucky?”

Natasha’s eyes did narrow then and Darcy didn’t need super-soldier knowledge to know it wasn’t a friendly look. “I’ll get to him soon.”

Glad she wasn’t on the other end of that conversation, Darcy nodded. When Natasha said nothing else and made for the door, a frown formed on Darcy’s face. “That’s it?”

Natasha paused in the doorway, turning and gracefully quirking an eyebrow toward Darcy. “Is ‘what’ it?”

Darcy’s hands gestured in the air, trying to articulate her meaning. “I figured you’d give me this big speech about how if I hurt Steve you’d made sure I regretted it, that you’d come at me when I’d least expect it and exact your revenge, make me ‘rue the day’... that kind of thing.”

Natasha blinked at her. “Do you plan on hurting Steve?”

Darcy let out a humorless laugh. “You mean anymore than I already have?” When Natasha’s face gave no indication, Darcy shook her head. “Hurting him is the last thing I want to do.”

“Then threats do nothing. You’re already hurting yourself more than I could hope to.” Natasha watched realization blossom on Darcy’s face, watched it bleed into her eyes, the breath she let out as her lips parted.

Darcy was pulled from her inner turmoil when the red-headed assassin left her alone in the laundry room, basket and clothes strewn around her feet in chaos, a billion horrible thoughts running through her head. “f*ck,” she breathed, agony curling in her chest.

Bucky’s jaw ached as he stumbled back, managing to stay on his feet. The kick had caught him unprepared, not expecting such viciousness, but he knew what the game was now, and he was more than willing to play along.

Natasha lunged forward and feigned to her right, knocking Bucky’s fist away from her head and bringing her knee into his stomach. She heard the grunt as it connected, but Bucky was ready and grabbed her leg, using it to swing her forward, throwing her to the mat.

Bucky shook his head, feeling hair stick to his forehead where it’d come loose from the tie holding it back. “Остаться вниз,” he criticized.

She fell back, bracing her neck, her palms pressed against the mat above her, using her legs to flip herself back to her feet. “Вы не мой учитель,” she bit out, voice tight as she advanced. Natasha ran at him, planting her left foot on his thigh, placing her hands on his shoulders. She swung her right leg over, bringing her legs together around his upper arm then throwing herself forward. She followed the momentum, rolling out of his reach, hearing his body hit the mat with a meaty thump. He was up in seconds, his body a blur as he came at her.

Foot. Fist. Kick. Jab. Jab.

It was a dance they’d practiced over years. Natasha would lash out with a leg, Bucky would dodge and follow it with another attack. She yelled when the flat of his hand slapped over her ear. She took several steps back, rubbing at the tender cartilage with a glare in her green eyes, her jaw opening and closing until her ear popped. “Ребенок,” she growled.

“Why are you fighting?” Bucky asked, arm blocking her punch, taking a step back when she landed a hit in the center of his chest. “Natalia.”

“That’s not my name,” Natasha growled, teeth clenched as she kicked out with purpose, catching the side of his knee with her heel. He went down and she threw herself onto his back, arm wrapping around his neck, legs wrapping around his waist, holding on as she squeezed her elbow.

Spittle flew from Bucky’s lips as he tried to draw in air. His hands clawed at Natasha’s arm as he stumbled and climbed to his feet. Her thighs were closed over his ribs like a vice and he could feel the redness of his face as he went longer and longer without air. When he couldn’t dislodge her, despite the strength he used in his hands, he decided to use his body weight to his advantage.

Bucky bent forward slightly then put all his strength into his legs, jumping as high into the air as he could before he directed their bodies so her back hit the floor, taking the brunt of the impact as they slammed back onto the mat.

The air in Natasha’s lungs was knocked out and she was unable to even grunt in pain as Bucky’s entire body weight and the momentum of the fall left her seeing stars.

Rolling off of her, Bucky climbed to his feet, watching her writhe on the floor in pain. “What did she do wrong?”

Bucky turned to look at the soldiers who were on the side of the mat, watching, their expressions ranging anywhere from shocked to angry. He nodded when one of the soldiers rose his hand. “Fredericks.”

“Romanoff should have followed with a kick to your sternum.”

“No. Rubley?”

“With your size difference she should have stayed low to the ground, using your center of gravity against you.”

“A good idea, but no. Unger?” He looked critically at the sharp features of the woman, already seeing the answer in her eyes.

“She was fighting you with her heart, not her head. She went for pain, not the take down.”

Bucky nodded. “If your role is to de-escalate and neutralize a threat, you should be looking for the best way to take them out cleanly and efficiently. You may be needed elsewhere. Analyze the target, anticipate the way they’ll respond, and take the easiest way to end the fight.”

He turned back toward Natasha, watching as she propped herself up on an arm, back to him and the soldiers. “Alright. That’s enough for today.” He waited for them to shuffle out of the gym and toward the locker rooms before he stepped toward her, sitting on his haunches as he shook his head. “What was that?”

“A good lesson for them, I think.” Natasha glanced in Bucky’s direction, glad she’d caught her breath and looked less than rattled by the time he’d gotten close enough to talk. “Unger caught on.”

“She’s the smartest of them all.” When she glanced up at him, he dipped his chin at her. “Smooth defection of my cross.”

“Thanks. Clint’s been helping me.”

“Even better deflection of the real answer to my question.”

“That one I came up with all on my own.”

“Hm.” Bucky stood, holding out his hand toward her. Natasha looked at it before sighing and letting him help her to her feet. “You could have pulled your punches.”

Natasha snorted, rubbing at her shoulder. “When have I ever pulled my punches?”

This time it was Bucky’s turn to snort as he glanced over at her. “Never, Пау́к!, you have never pulled your punches.”

“She called me that. Did you know?” When he looked over at her, Natasha’s mouth quirked upward at the look on his face. Obviously Darcy hadn’t told him about their late night meeting in the laundry room. She supposed it was possible Bucky hadn’t seen each her since then. But since Steve was staying with her, she’d assumed that Darcy and Bucky were staying together.

That they weren’t… perhaps it was something Steve needed to know. Natasha filed the information away and continued.

“The first time I’ve met her and she calls me that. The same tone, the same inflection. It was your voice coming from her mouth. It was…”

Bucky nodded. “I almost said the word ‘totes’ yesterday.” He could see Natasha’s grimace from the corner of his eye. “A lot of it is still confusing.”

“But not all of it.”

He looked over at her then, steel gaze noting her soft expression as her green eyes flicked toward him. “No. Not all of it. Some things are clear and solid. There are very few things I am absolutely certain of. One of those is her.”

Natasha stretched her arm over her head, sighing when she heard a pop and felt relief. “And Steve is the other?” She watched Bucky nod, watched him avert his eyes, most likely because he didn’t want her to see the emotion in them. “He’s been staying with me and Clint.”

“I know,” he hummed, “Barton wasn’t exactly covert about it.”

“He’s been out of the game too long.”

“Didn’t he retire?”

“Can any of us really retire?”

“No. No we can’t.”

They were quiet as Natasha stretched the rest of her muscles, already aching in her shoulders, forgetting how solid Bucky was and how much that solid muscle weighed. “He’s alright.” When Bucky pinned her with his gaze, she shrugged her shoulders slightly, ignoring the twinge. “Relatively alright. He might be avoiding you now out of principle, not wanting to make the first step.”

“I’ve tried -”

“I know. I know you have. Maybe you just need to… get creative.”

Bucky’s eyes swung to look at her, seeing the glint in their green depths. “Creative?”

“Yeah. Creative.”

He couldn’t help the slightly mystified expression on his face. “Why are you helping? Didn’t you just try to kick my ass?”

“Completely unrelated. The next time you use the last of the cherry jam and leave none for my tea, expect much of the same.”

He laughed lightly, throwing a towel over his shoulder as they headed toward the locker room. “Понимал.”

Chapter 9: Hands On

Chapter Text

“You and I need to have a chat.”

Steve glanced up at Tony, closing the binder on the desk in front of him. He’d been getting daily updates from King T’Challa, making sure the rebuild of Wakanda was on track. They owed Wakanda so much, and when Sam and Wanda had expressed a desire to assist in T’Challa’s efforts, it’d been the right thing to do, the least they could do.

“I’ve got a debrief in fifteen minutes,” he said, pushing back from the conference table, rising to his feet.

“Then I’ll use fourteen.”

Sighing, Steve nodded. “As long as we’re mobile.” He wound his way toward the door, feeling Tony follow. When they made their way to the hall, he slowed enough so Tony could catch up. “This about Wakanda?”

“No. This is about Darcy.”

Steve’s steps faltered slightly, but he caught himself quickly. “Did more abilities manifest?”

“No. Banner’s working with her on some ways to center herself, but it’s slow going. Other than some bouts of glowing and her kaleidoscope eyes, nothing new to report.”

Nodding, Steve shifted the binder from one arm to the other. “Is that it?”

“Has it been fourteen minutes already? No. So there’s more.” Tony ignored Steve’s glare, more than used to That Look on the super soldier’s face being pointed in his direction. “We accelerated the testing on her physical proximity and I can confirm that she is able to touch someone without her powers coming out to play. I think we can take the kid gloves off, let her out with the rest of the general public.”

It’d only been a couple of weeks, and despite the tests Tony and Bruce were conducting, Steve was reticent to let her mix with everyone so soon. “Are you sure it’s safe? If something happens like last time -”

“Oh, great, I’m glad you brought that up.”

“I didn’t -”

“It seems like she’s recovered from the incident, but I’m suggesting she continue to work with Bruce, and I’d like her to meet with one of the therapists on staff. I’ve noticed a decline in her mental health. Through our daily visits -”

“Daily?”

“ - I’ve been able to ascertain that she’s dealing with some grief and regret. Understandable, really. She’s attempting to cope with it, and I’ve indulged some of her more personal requests, but she’s not where she should be. She cries a lot, seems a bit touch starved. Clingy, really. Weepy. Lachrymose.”

Steve stopped walking, letting the air out of his lungs in frustration. Tony took a few more steps before crossing his arms over his chest as he turned to face the blond. “Something I said not sitting well with you, Cap?”

Ignoring the tone in Tony’s question, Steve’s blue eyes flicked up to look at the smaller man. “Why are you telling me this? You don’t need my permission to assign her a therapist.”

Tony took a step toward him, a tight smile on his face. “Just following orders. You said we’d figure this all out, help her figure this out. I just want to make sure that’s still the plan. Sure, there’ve been some bumps in the road, but I don’t think it’s her fault. We all had some trial and error when everything started, right? No reason to blame her for something she can’t control.”

Steve counted to ten in his head, something he had to do often when talking with Tony. The man loved pressing as many buttons as he could, sometimes to the detriment of the point he was trying to make. He could practically taste the sarcasm dripping in Tony’s words. “No one is blaming her for what happened.”

“Aren’t you, though? Have you seen her lately? Checked in on her? You promised her you’d help her. Have you? Are you?” When Steve said nothing, Tony clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it, Rogers. Bruce and I will make sure she’s alright since you’re too busy. I’ll type up a report and have it on your desk first thing Monday morning.”

Sighing, Steve shook his head as he looked down at the floor. He knew Tony had taken an interest in Darcy, and he knew Tony had no problem challenging him when he wanted to, but this level of needling seemed more personal than was necessary. “I don’t understand why you’re pushing so hard. You barely know her.”

“You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I barely know her. Maybe I’m invested more than I should be. But I thought we were working to be stronger, better, to not punish someone because of something they’ve done in the past, something they couldn’t control. Wasn’t that our new team motto?”

Steve felt a hollow laugh rumble in his chest, pinning Tony with a glare, knowing he was using his background with Bucky against him. “Is that what you think you’re doing?”

“Some days are easier than others. I struggle with it. But I’m trying. You’re supposed to be better than me, Rogers. Be better. Do better.”

He watched Tony walk away, disappearing from sight as he rounded the corner, a heavy silence falling on the hallway.

Steve closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in and letting it out slowly. Tony wasn’t completely out of line, but he wasn’t sure what the man expected of him. It looked like she was being taken care of, between Tony and Bruce and her friend Jane, but was Tony right? Had he been avoiding Darcy?

He was avoiding Bucky, not able to look at the only man he’d ever loved and feel anything other than hurt. Was he blaming Darcy for that? He would love for the answer to be ‘no’ but he’d never been good at lying, even to himself, and some small part of him did blame her. What she’d done to defeat Thanos was stupid and reckless, but he wouldn’t be standing here today if she hadn’t. Hell, the world might not be here.

… but the look in her hazel eyes when she’d looked at Bucky, and the spark of life in Bucky’s as he’d looked at her …

Steve was being unfair to her. Tony was right. Damn it all, but Tony was right. Darcy deserved better than his silence and avoidance. Bucky was a different story - it might take him longer to figure that part out - but Darcy deserved some kind of contact, if only to substantiate Tony’s thoughts on her mental health. If her powers were tied to her emotions, letting her slip too far into a depression might prove to be catastrophic.

Sighing, Steve started toward his next meeting. He’d reach out to her, check in on her, make sure she was doing alright, that she had everything she needed and was settling in. A quick visit. In and out. Easy.

What was one more lie?

“Friday?”

“Yes, Sergeant?”

“Are you allowed to lie?”

A pause.

“Boss has set my deception abilities at a nominal level. He doesn’t enjoy being lied to, even if he wishes sometimes I could.”

“What if it wasn’t a whole lie?”

“Are you wanting me to lie for you, Sergeant?”

A pause.

“No. I need your help.”

“You need to eat something.”

Darcy didn’t look up from the table, even after hearing the ‘mom’ tone Jane had used. She’d been hearing that tone a lot lately and it was starting to bleed into the sounds of everything else. She continued to push the broccoli around her plate, thoughts tumbling in a freefall.

“I thought you hated broccoli.”

Darcy did look up then, hazel eyes widening as she looked at the offending tiny green trees on her plate, a vegetable she detested. “I do hate it. Or I did.” She’d scooped it onto her plate without a second thought. Dammit. She dropped her fork to the plate with a growl, the sound drawing several eyes in her direction from the other tables in the mess hall.

No, not mess hall. The cafeteria. This was a cafeteria and not a place where soldiers had three minutes to chow down on as much military-grade salisbury steaks and imitation gravy before their next patrol began.

Darcy buried her face in her elbow, slumping forward onto the table. This was all a level of f*cked up she hadn’t thought possible. Bruce ‘please stop calling me doc’ Banner had tried teaching her some more intradimensional meditation techniques (transdimensional? No, transcendental!) to quiet the new terrifying part of her, if only to ease the symptoms, but she hadn’t quite gotten the hang of it. The first try had been a fluke and she’d been floundering ever since.

“Darce, you’re glowing. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Darcy lifted her head and looked at Jane, then glanced around the room. Everyone was staring at her. She was sure she made quite the show; glowing amber, wave distortions like heat on a highway floating around her body, eyes bleeding from hazel to orange and back again. She pulled her sleeves over her glowstick fingers and crossed her hands over her chest, hiding them in her armpits. “I’m just going to head back to my room. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Are you sure? Do you want me to get Bruce?”

She recognized the worry in her best friend’s eyes, could see it bleeding into the space she occupied, and Darcy wished she could give Jane the answers she wanted, but she couldn’t. She wasn’t really alright, and despite the approval Tony had gotten to let her wander the compound unaccompanied, she still felt out of sorts.

Her life was so out of sorts it was enough to drive her mad.

“I’ll be fine. ‘M Just tired. I’ll eat a poptart later. Promise.”

She knew Jane didn’t believe her, could see the doubt creep onto her face, but Darcy left her there, stares from the other cafeteria occupants making the skin between her shoulder blades itch as she left. She’d walked these halls for months now (no, not her, Bucky, f*ck) and she made it to her room without a thought.

Being able to navigate the labyrinth like halls (Help me, David Bowie, you’re my only hope) without much thought was great, as her mind was too busy replaying the look on Steve’s face in the med ward, watching his lips flatten into a line as he looked at her and Bucky, wrapped around each other, speaking in shorthand and acting like they’d known each other their whole lives, even though it was impossible.

It was the last time she’d seen Steve. Days. Weeks.

As she pressed her finger to the lock on her room, she risked a glance over her shoulder at the door that faced hers.

He wasn’t there. Even though she knew he was with Natasha, Darcy expected he’d have to visit, pick up clothes. A toothbrush. Something. But he hadn’t. The space was slowly losing his color, like it was hemorrhaging gold the longer he stayed away.

Me too, room. Me too.

Darcy collapsed on the couch at the foot of her bed, clutching a pillow to her chest. She looked around at the walls. They’d changed colors again. Painting the walls wasn’t good enough, no. Tony Stark didn’t do anything half-assed. He was an ass, but the man knew how to commit. After painting the plebeian way (his words, not hers), he’d decided to just replace the walls of her room with screens, LED screens, allowing her to change the colors at will.

To match your wonky eyes, he’d said with a shrug, throwing her the remote. He’d changed the ceiling, too, but she didn’t care. Darcy’d still asked Jane to get her a pack of the glowing stars, the ones you could stick to the ceiling with poster putty, that would glow when exposed to light. Would Tony like the idea of her tacking things to his most-likely expensive room-sized screen? Probably not. Did Darcy care? A little, but she’d done it anyway.

One of the kids in her third foster home had these little stars above his bed. They’d been from the kid before him, and the kid before him, so on and on, backward for who knew how long. All it’d taught Darcy was that you shouldn’t get attached to a place because eventually you would leave.

You’d always leave.

Looking up at the non-glowing bits of yellow, she had to wonder why it’d been so important for her to have them here. She sighed, pressing her chin into the pillow she was hugging. After allowing herself to wallow for a few minutes (a good, heavy, impressive bit of wallowing, if she did say so herself), Darcy sat up, needing to do something about the turmoil in her body. She could practically hear Bruce’s voice in her head: ”When you’re the lowest, that’s when you close everything else out. Go to the quiet place inside yourself.”

The joke was on him, though. She wasn’t sure she had any more quiet places inside herself.

Dark curls shaking around her face, Darcy placed her hands on her knees, straightening her back. She breathed deeply and closed her eyes. She didn’t think of the universe, or the threads that tied her to it all, or even the souls in the compound; she thought about her soul. It was so small compared to all the others (infinitesimal, really), but it was hers. She focused on it, the glowing nugget of emerald, a vein of crimson jutting through.

Even a month ago, the idea of a soulmate was laughable.

Now? Now she could see the undercurrent of cobalt between all that green and red, and it wasn’t funny at all.

It just hurt.

Everything had gotten so complicated so quickly. But what had Bruce said? “Unpack it. Make it easier to see.”

Right.

Unpack it.

As if it was that easy.

Sigh.

I touched a gem and, because I’m some kind of special snowflake extra non-human, I absorbed the stone. I then used the stone to turn Grape Kool-aid Man into nothing.

The stone made it so I can see all souls. I can see them, trap them, destroy them. I don’t want to do that, but the stone does.

I almost let something bad get into me, but instead ended up sharing my soul with Bucky and he shared his soul with me and now we have some sort of soul bond?

For f*cks sake, this is stupid.

I love Bucky, and it should scare me, but it doesn’t. But he loves Steve, and I love Steve but Steve knows nothing about me other than I stole Bucky from him and I am a horrible, horrible f*cking garbage person!

Darcy leaned forward, screaming into the pillow. “This is so f*cked!”

She jumped to her feet when she heard pounding on her door, incessant relentless banging, as if someone were throwing themselves against it. “Friday?” she called out, voice an octave higher in fear.

“Captain Rogers is outside. He would like to enter.”

She froze for a second, hearing another frantic ‘thud’ against her door. “f*cking let him in then!”

The lock clicked over and Darcy jumped as Steve barrelled into her room, his blue eyes wide with surprise when they landed on her. She stared at him, her mouth open as she gaped. His cheeks were flushed pink, his breathing labored. Where had he run from? Why was he running to her?

Steve glanced around the room in confusion. When Friday’s voice had rung through the conference room, stating ‘Ms. Lewis’ heart is having an episode and requires immediate assistance,’ he’d dropped the report and started running, hearing Natasha call out after him.

As he ran, his head filled with possibilities. Was it Bucky? Had something happened to him? Please, God, don’t let my last words to him be ‘let me go.’ If it wasn’t Bucky, was it her? Had she had another incident? Should they have kept her quarantined? Did she hurt someone? Was she hurt? Had Bruce’s scans missed something? If he hadn’t been avoiding her, maybe he’d have seen something sooner.

If she was hurt, it was on him.

When his fingerprint didn’t immediately open Darcy’s door, he hadn’t even thought, just started throwing himself at it. If they were hurt, or worse, he would never forgive himself. Finally, he’d propelled forward into the room, looking for the sign of trouble.

Instead his eyes landed on a wide-eyed Darcy, long-sleeved shirt and boxers with hearts on them, staring at him in shock, her skin glowing softly.

“What’s wrong? Friday said something happened. Is it Bucky?”

Darcy blinked rapidly at him, shock quaking through every pore as her heart raced. “I don’t -”

They both jumped when her door slammed shut. Steve spun toward it, taking a step so he stood between Darcy and the door. Bucky had his arms crossed over his chest, t-shirt straining against his muscles, jaw clenched as he narrowed grey eyes at the blond.

Darcy’s breath stuck in her throat. f*ck. He wasn’t kidding. Monumentally stupid achievement unlocked, Buck.

Steve stared at Bucky, quickly catching onto what had transpired. His eyes darkened in anger. Seconds ago he’d been praying that the man he loved was alright and now he was filled with indignation at having been played. “You getting Friday to lie for you now?” he bit out, tension in the line of his body being replaced with frustration.

Bucky gave as much annoyance as he was being given, glaring at Steve. “Wasn’t a lie, punk. Something is wrong. And we’re going to talk about it. Now.”

Steve’s chest rumbled with a rough, disbelieving laugh. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

Taking a step toward him, Bucky’s finger jutted in the direction of Darcy’s sofa. “Just sit your ass on that couch, Rogers.”

As the men argued, Darcy tried to make herself look smaller. As their voices raised in volume, it set her nerves on edge. She physically took a step backward when Steve turned toward her with a coolness in his eyes.

“You in on this, too?” It was petty and childish and he regretted the question and his tone the second he said it, but Steve was filled with so many contradictory emotions that it was hard for him to focus, and he found anger was the easiest and most comfortable one to channel.

Darcy shook her head emphatically. She had no idea what Bucky’d been planning, but she knew for a fact this was exactly the type of sh*t she would pull. f*ck, but she was a bad influence on him. She knew he was no altar boy, but Darcy had to wonder how many of Bucky’s actions lately had been because her hedonistic tendencies had been shared with the soldier.

Bucky’s voice was harsh, watching Steve’s gaze swing back toward him. “Sit. Now.”

Darcy sat down heavily, immediately. When Bucky saw her over Steve’s shoulder, his eyes softened the tiniest bit. “I was talking to him, Darce.”

She could feel heat flame into her cheeks. “Oh.”

Bucky’s attention pivoted back to Steve, the intensity returning to his glare. It felt like there were novels of arguments being written in their silent stares, and Bucky was certain they’d stand there forever, neither wanting to make the first move.

Steve saw the determination in his best friend’s eyes, the quiet steel in their depths. His mind flashed back to the pang of panic at the thought of Bucky being hurt, or worse, knowing their last conversation was not what he’d wanted it to be. He’d had plans to check in on Darcy, work to bridge the silence between Bucky and himself.

Was he really angry that Bucky had forced his hand, or because he’d allowed it to get to this point of desperation?

Body losing some of it’s anger, being replaced with uncertainty, Steve sat, bracing himself on the edge of the couch, not wanting to appear at ease. He heard Darcy’s exhale of breath, the shift of her body in confusion and worry as she looked between him and Bucky.

Watching Steve take a spot on the couch (as far away from me as he can get), Darcy began worrying her lip with her teeth as Bucky sat across from both of them, perched on the coffee table as he glared. Silence fell and began fitting itself happily around the trio.

Looking back and forth between the two men, Darcy wasn’t sure she’d ever been this completely uncomfortable. She let out the breath she’d been holding.

f*ck.

Chapter 10: Say It Loud

Chapter Text

The silence in the room was thicker than Thor’s thighs. Darcy could taste the tension and anxiety on her tongue, choking down the bitter flavor. She blinked at Bucky, who was staring at Steve, who was glaring at his feet. Looking back and forth between them, their faces full of angry lines, set her skin itching. This wasn’t how she’d hoped it would go.

“Well, this is super f*cking awkward.” When both boys looked over at Darcy, she shrugged her shoulders defensively, hand gesturing in the air helplessly. “What? It is!”

Steve took some dark satisfaction that he wasn’t the one to break first. That it was Darcy, and not Bucky, made him frown harder. His eyes flicked up to Bucky’s, locking gazes with his best friend. Bucky’s anger was familiar and he could see it in every line of the other man’s body. But underneath all that righteous indignation, he recognized something else. Sadness..

Was this it? Was this the time? Steve’d seen how they looked at each other. Part of the reason he’d kept his distance was because it hurt to much to realize he was in the middle of the two of them now, and it was only a matter of time until they figured out how to end it. He’d spent so long trying to get Bucky back, then filling every free moment he had with the only man he’d ever loved. What was he supposed to do now?

Steve sighed, his voice soft, blue gaze on his hands as they fidgeted, too afraid to look at Bucky. The last thing he wanted to see was relief in Bucky’s eyes, relief that he was the one suggesting that he step aside.

“I’m sorry that I’ve been avoiding you, Bucky. It just took me some time to accept.... everything. I know you couldn’t control what happened, I know you made a choice, and I’m not going to stand in -”

Bucky, who’d been perched on the coffee table between Steve and Darcy, stood up in a huff and threw his hands in the air. “Steve Rogers, the self-sacrificing man who’ll set aside his feelings for whatever he thinks is the greater good.”

This. This is why Bucky’d been trying to talk to Steve for weeks. He loved the man so much, but Steve would make up his own mind about what was going on and block out anything that didn’t fit into his narrative. He’d done it as children and Bucky’d known he’d do it here, too.

The punk hadn’t changed in almost a century.

Steve frowned up at Bucky, watching as the man paced from one end of the room to the other. “I know when I’m fighting a losing battle.”

Bucky’s laugh was harsh in the space, bouncing off the pale green walls. “Oh, really?” He crossed his arms over his chest as he glared at Steve. “Steven Grant Rogers, you’ve never backed down from a single fight in your entire f*cking life! Ever!”

Unsure of the tone being spat in his direction, Steve’s mouth turned down even more. Why was Bucky making this harder than it already was? “If she’s your soulmate and I’m not -”

“Steve, that’s not -”

Unable to take listening to the two of them argue any longer, Darcy stood up. She was perfectly fine hiding in her bathroom while they growled at each other, feeling their animosity bite along her skin like fire ants, burning and stinging and bringing tears to her eyes.

“Darcy -”

She shook her head, arms crossed over her chest, fingernails digging into her biceps as she glanced back at him. “Buck, it’s fine. You guys can talk and I’ll just -”

“He needs to know -”

Bucky stopped talking when Darcy spun around, curls flying as she pinned him with a look of pain.

“He needs to know what, Bucky? He doesn’t know me! He met me a few weeks ago for the first time! We’ve only had a handful of conversations, and those were civil to polite, at best. It doesn’t matter what I feel, or what I know about him. He has no reason to feel anything toward me but contempt! And he’s right and he should!”

Darcy wasn’t sure when she’d started crying but she couldn’t seem to stop the tears any more than she could stop the words as they fell from her lips, each one dripping with pent up agony, for every night she could feel the loss of their body heat, for every smile she didn’t get to share. She gestured toward Steve but wasn’t strong enough to bring herself to look at him.

“It doesn’t matter that I know his favorite color, or his favorite song, or remember how the light came through the window in the apartment on Leaman and hit him just right that it lit up his hair like holy fire. The threadbare sheets, the terrifying pneumonia, the way his Ma took her tea. That sh*t doesn’t matter because all he knows is I’m a pushy little lab monkey who hijacked the love of his life!”

She pressed her palm over her mouth, stifling a sob before it could escape, desperate to stop the torrent of memories that only served to make her heart ache. When she watched Bucky flinch at the word ‘hijack’, Darcy felt like an even bigger asshole than before, her face falling further.

“Aw, f*ck, Bucky, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...”

Darcy wanted to close the distance between them, to kiss him until he forgot the memories she’d just brought to the surface, to chase all those charcoal colors away...

…but she didn’t. Instead, Darcy took a heavy seat on the couch, biting her lower lip, fingernails digging into her arms to distract from the pain she’d just caused, the hurt still singing through her blood.

Steve’s thoughts were a tumble of half-finished half-understood fragments. There were things Darcy’d mentioned that he was certain she couldn’t know. Yes, he supposed Bucky could have told her, but it’d only been weeks; you couldn’t cover everything, all those years together, in such a small amount of time.

He didn’t pretend to understand what had happened between Darcy and Bucky, but it was obvious something else was going on. Probably the thing that Bucky had been trying to talk to him about. Steve felt like an idiot. He’d let his own pain and resentment get the better of him, and he’d denied both Bucky and Darcy the opportunity to explain.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d jumped to a conclusion and assumed. When it came to Bucky, all his wires got crossed, to the point where he couldn’t see straight enough to shoot but still took the shot anyway. Steve’s gaze slid to Darcy, watching her teeth bite her lip anxiously as tears continued to slip down her cheeks. He cleared his throat, feeling guilty when she looked at him with eyes well on their way to broken.

“What do you know about the apartment on Leaman?”

Darcy brushed a tear off her cheek as it fell, sniffling and feeling disgusting as Steve looked at her. “Um, everything? I know that the floor plank right inside the back door creaked and you had to avoid it when you snuck in late. The time the ceiling flooded when Ms. Applebaum forgot to turn off her tub and you woke up soaked to the bone. How it got so cold in the winter of ‘39 you had to burn pages from Sarah’s Gaelic bible to stay warm.”

She didn’t know if what she was saying was helping or making things worse, and watching the ghosts of those memories come to the surface in his blue eyes was a whole new kind of painful. The last thing Darcy wanted to do was come between Steve and Bucky, even if it meant having to take herself out of the situation. It was all her fault anyway, and these two men not being together, after everything they'd been through, was not an option.

“I know that what you and Bucky have is... It’s everything. He loves you so much and it’s killing me to see you’re hurting and if he could fix things, he would, because he’d do anything to wipe the pain from your face.”

As her words filtered through his brain, Steve was forced to sift through them for meaning. His eyebrows furrowed as one thing in particular stuck out. He looked at her then, intent and pressing, watching her face. “It’s killing you?”

Darcy blinked, ice flowing through her veins as she realized her slip up. “Him. It’s killing him, I mean.”

He could tell he was missing something. He knew Bucky was upset, the harsh glare he was currently receiving was proof enough of that, but the pain he saw in Darcy’s eyes, and the way she’d spoke about him in Bucky’s memory…

Oh.

Understanding clicked into place, with crystal clarity, and the reality hit Steve like a freight train. He breathed a long sigh outward, brain still refusing to accept the situation, uncertain how he was supposed to process it all.

“No,” Steve said finally, eyes sweeping to look at Darcy, needing to see the truth of it in her eyes, “that’s not what you meant, was it?”

Darcy worried her lip with her teeth until she tasted copper, shaking her head ‘no’, not trusting herself to speak anymore. While most people understood the logistics of what had happened with her and Bucky, the sharing of their memories and an instant bond being forged, she was almost positive no one besides Jane knew the whole truth. Specifically how she was in love with Steve Rogers, just like Bucky was. She looked toward Bucky with apologies, but his eyes were steady on the man at the other end of the couch.

“She saw everything,” Bucky said, Steve’s gaze swinging to look at him. “Not what she read in a history book or saw at a museum. I was there, so she knows. She knows how I feel about you and feels the same, feels it as real and true as I do. And she saw everything else, Steve.”

The intensity of Bucky’s gaze was heavy, and Steve could almost feel the weight of the words his lover was about to say, felt the importance of them in the air.

“Everything I did, when it wasn’t me. When I was the Soldier. Every mission. Every murder. Every horrible thing these hands have ever done, and she still manages to look at me like you do. No what ifs, no maybes. All of it.”

Unrelenting support. Unwavering loyalty. To someone else it would have been foreign, but Steve understood. His gaze flicked from Bucky to Darcy, watching the truth fill the depths of her hazel eyes. He said nothing for a long time, watching as Darcy’s fingers fidgeted and picked at the fraying bottom of her boxer shorts.

What had happened between Bucky and Darcy wasn’t that they’d fallen in love with each other. Well, it wasn’t just that they’d fallen in love with each other. It was that they’d shared everything, which apparently meant they shared the love Bucky felt for him.

“I’m not sure what to do with all this,” Steve said finally, not wanting to lie but unable to think of anything else true to say.

The slightly manic giggle that bubbled from Darcy’s chest hung in the air. “Yeah? Try waking up and realizing you’re in love with two men who you’ve only known a week. They don’t exactly make how-to guides for sh*t this f*cked up.”

She could have sworn she saw one corner of Steve’s mouth lift upward at her words, but she chalked that hallucination up to the emotionally charged atmosphere in the room. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Steve. I couldn’t.”

“I believe you.” And he did. He didn’t need to have her powers to see she was telling the truth. He was sure there were people who could play that amount of broken, a few of them even lived in the compound, but it wasn’t her, at least not that he’d seen. Steve didn’t know much about her, but he knew she was truthful, even when it might have been better to lie.

Those three words sent Darcy’s chin trembling again, happy for anything other than contempt. That he’d believe her was more than she could have ever hoped for. “You do?” He glanced up at her and the intensity in those blue eyes froze her heart.

“We can’t change what happened. And if what happened means you’re both here and alive, then I’m glad it did. The stuff we experience on a day to day basis… It’s hard to believe a lot of it. But we deal with it as it happens.”

“What are you saying?” Bucky could tell he’d taken the words right out of Darcy’s mouth, hesitance in his voice as he peered at Steve.

Steve glanced between them both, seeing the small glimmer of optimism in their faces. “I’m saying we take this one day at a time. If Bucky…” he paused, “cares about you, and you care about me… I need to get to know you better. Okay?”

Ecstasy filled Darcy’s chest, despite the careful hesitation Steve’d carried in his voice. He wanted to get to know her better. He didn’t hate her. He knew she loved him, even if he didn’t truly believe it yet, and he still hadn’t run out of the room screaming. This was better than she could have ever dreamed.

“Yes! I mean, yeah, I’m okay with that, Steve. Are you okay with that, Bucky? I think that’s a swell idea. A real swell idea.” She looked at Bucky with widened eyes, the tears still wet on her cheeks, though drying much quicker now.

The look on her face drew Bucky’s lips upward into an encouraging smile, and he couldn’t ignore the feeling of right that settled in his chest when he looked at the two of them side by side. Dark and Light. Steve and Darcy. The two people he loved, in one place. “That’s fine by me, doll.”

“Okay, Steve?”

Steve nodded when her wide eyes turned to look at him, expression filled with so much laid bare hope that it was hard to look away.

“Awesome. Yes. Okay. Yay!” Darcy lifted her hands and and shook them in the air. She watched Bucky roll his eyes at her in her peripheral vision, but she was almost certain a ghost of a smile appeared on Steve’s lips, however small. She felt like she was floating on air.

“The sky’s really pretty today,” Darcy said, face turning toward the sun, a smile curling her lips, “don’t you think?”

Her eyes were closed, so she didn’t see the look Tony shared with Bruce as they strolled along the tree line at the edge of the grounds. It was the first time she’d really been able to walk around outside, and she wanted to take full advantage of it, feeling the crisp autumn breeze as it sent her curls flying.

Tony's hands were shoved into his pockets, sneakers crunching the leaves that were beginning to turn gold and fall from the trees. "You're rather chipper this morning, sport. They have the danish you like in the cafeteria or something?"

Darcy snorted, glancing in Tony's direction. "Yeah. Yeah they did, and all those empty calories were delicious. But no, I’m chipper because I slept the whole night through last night. No nightmares, no insomnia. Seven hours of solid, uninterrupted zonk."

"That's a pretty big improvement," Bruce said, arms crossed over his chest, looking down at his feet. "Have you noticed any other, uh, side effects? Power flares?"

She glanced in Bruce's direction, seeing the considering look he was giving her. "Not that I've noticed. I still glow a bit from time to time, but that's about it. Nothing world endy. I promise you'll be the first person I'll run to if I start getting a hankering for an apocalypse." When he only gave her joke a tight smile, she shrugged her shoulders and turned back to the trees.

"What about the non-glowy parts? The 'I can touch and kill every soul in the galaxy' power?" When Darcy's eyes narrowed in Tony's direction, he gestured in the air with his hand. "Just trying to get the whole picture."

Sighing, Darcy considered his question. "That part... I don't want to go back to that place. Ever."

"You don't feel the pull? No compulsion to use it?"

"Not really."

"But if you needed to... you could?"

She glared at Tony. "What are you asking, Stark? Yeah, it would take nothing for me to focus and see souls, to touch them, to snuff them out and destroy everything. But I won’t, because that part terrifies me. Is that what you want to hear? That the idea of going back to that place makes my blood turn to ice? Because it does. It's f*cking awful, and if I never go back there, I'd die happy. That work for you? Is that what you were looking for?"

He looked away from her, eyes focusing on a group of soldiers as they ran past in formation. "Yeah, that's about the gist of it, kiddo."

"Are you deliberately trying to piss me off? If so, you're doing a bang up job. Can't I just be f*cking happy? Damn, man." Tony was seriously damaging her calm and she was this close to ripping those glasses from his face and stomping on them, not caring how childish the thought was.

Tony shrugged his shoulders when she turned her glare away from him. "I'm just making sure that when we go off-site that you're not going to destroy the mall. It's one of the last places you can get a Cinnabon." He smirked when Darcy's head whipped back to look at him, her eyes wide and a large, surprised grin on her face.

"What? I can leave!?"

He glanced at her from the side of his eyes. "With conditions, yeah."

"Way to bury the lead there, asshole!" Her eyes shifted to Bruce, seeing that same tight smile on his face. "Is the asshole lying?"

Bruce cleared his throat, watching the excitement strobe in her eyes. "We've been discussing it, and as long as we take it easy, and we're there -"

"To make sure I don't destroy the mall? Yeah, yeah. I got that part. You're really letting me leave, though?"

Tony reached out and softly punched at her shoulder. "Consider it probation. If this goes well, then who knows? Weekend passes. An off-site apartment. Granted you don't go all party rave glow sticks, the sky's the limit."

Darcy grinned to herself as they walked, her mind already running with ideas. "So... the mall?"

"You said you needed some things. Figured that'd be the place to do it."

"Okay. Damn, I'll have to make a list!"

As she began to walk faster, excitement charging through her, Tony looked over at Bruce, his eyes sobering a bit. A silent conversation happened between the men, both of their eyes swinging to Darcy when she turned back to look at them.

"Come on, science nerds, get your asses in gear!"

Bucky woke slowly, fighting it, wanting to stay asleep just a little bit longer. He'd been so tired that he'd passed out the second his head had hit the pillow. He buried his face into the blankets, groaning with annoyance at being awake. When he felt the bed shift beside him, his head jerked up, eyes snapping open. He turned his attention to the other body in the bed with him, hidden by the covers except for a bit of blond hair peeking through.

The memory of the conversation they'd had with Darcy the night previous filtered through his sleep-addled brain, and Bucky laid back down, turning on his side so he could fit himself against Steve's back, throwing an arm over his side and pulling his best friend closer. Bucky had every right to be angry at Steve for dragging the miscommunication for far longer than was necessary; he loved Steve, like air, like sunshine, but the man was as stubborn as a mule when he wanted to be.

Those thoughts were pushed aside, though, by the overwhelming relief Bucky felt to have Steve back in his arms. He'd felt lost and adrift without him. That he was able to wake up beside Steve again was everything. Bucky knew things weren't perfect, that they had a lot of work to do, but if the light at the end of the tunnel was having both Steve and Darcy by his side? He was willing to put in the work.

Steve came to consciousness as Bucky slotted against his back, feeling a warm breath on his neck followed by the press of lips to his shoulder. He hummed, eyes blinking against the light that was streaming in from between the curtains. He shifted, turning so he could face Bucky, the other man's grey eyes much more alert than his own. "Morning."

Bucky shoved one arm under his pillow, the other resting over Steve's side, fingers brushing at the skin of Steve’s hip. "Morning." He wanted to say something more, to address what had been decided last night, but he didn't want break the bubble just yet. Bucky wanted to enjoy the moment, looking at Steve from inches away, feeling the blond's warmth, knowing the anguish he'd felt without Steve at his side was over.

As his best friend blinked lazily at him, the memories from the previous night hit Steve like a bucket of cold water.

Bucky didn’t want to end their relationship.

Darcy wasn’t going to take Bucky from him.

Bucky loved Darcy, and Darcy loved Bucky...

… and they both loved him.

It all seemed impossible, and heavy, and so much to accept. Steve felt the first wave of guilt crash into him, realizing that he’d put them all through hell unnecessarily. This could have been cleared up weeks ago if he’d just let Bucky and Darcy explain.

But even after their explanation, seeing the emotion in Darcy’s face, seeing love fill her as she’d looked at him... it was almost too much to believe. He'd only met her a handful of times, brief visits to check in, to see how she was doing with everything, but now? Now she was in love with him, honestly and truthfully in love with him, and Steve still had no idea what to think.

Last night he’d suggested they get to know each other, but looking into Bucky’s eyes, Steve found himself overwhelmed by the weight of it all, questions sparking in his brain like fire. "Buck..."

"What do you want to know?" Bucky had been watching Steve, reading his best friend like a book. Steve’d never been good at hiding his emotions, especially with when it came to him, and the tint of confused disbelief was flashing in Steve’s eyes like neon lights.

Steve let out a breath, chuckling when Bucky read his mind. They were so used to each other that it was like second nature. Would it be the same with Darcy? Would he feel like he was missing something, watching the two of them interact? All of these questions and more were rolling through his mind and it was hard to focus on just one of them. "So Darcy… knows everything? Everything?"

Bucky nodded, face going solemn. "All of it," he confirmed, the truth of it filling his eyes, "and I know it seems impossible, but it’s true."

That was an absolute understatement, but Steve nodded as he processed the information. "And you know everything of hers?" Bucky nodded at him, a shadow passing behind his eyes. Following that logic, Bucky had all of Darcy’s memories in his head, which meant that if he had any questions about her…

"Can I ask..." He trailed off, hoping Bucky understood his question.

"There will be things I can answer, but a lot of it isn't my story to tell."

Bucky'd had no knowledge of Darcy until she'd grabbed the stone, and even after that, he only knew bits and pieces. Now he had an entire second life in his head, and some of the things in Darcy's past... he could feel his jaw clench, the memories of abuse causing his chest to contract in anger. It was a different kind of torture, knowing what she'd gone through, knowing he could do nothing to make it better. He was certain she'd say it was nothing when compared to his history, but hers was still horrific.

"Okay." Steve said, digesting Bucky's answer, noting the haunted look on his face. "But you... you feel… for her..."

Bucky's fingers brushed back and forth over Steve's skin, an anxious gesture. He knew what Steve was asking, and Bucky wasn't sure how to say it without causing pain. "I love her," Bucky said, eyes flicking down to watch Steve's adam's apple bob as the blond swallowed hard at his words.

"I know her, just like I know you. Inside and out. All her good traits, all her flaws. I wish I could explain it better, but you have to know, Steve," Bucky said, his gaze sweeping, locking his eyes on Steve's, "loving her doesn't make me love you any less. Nothing has changed in the way I feel about you. Nothing. Do you understand? Do you believe me? I need you to believe me."

It hurt him to hear the words, but Steve would rather know everything, good or bad, then let anything else go unsaid between them. He could taste the truth in Bucky's words, see the sincerity in his eyes, but Steve wasn't sure if anyone would be happy knowing the person they loved also loved someone else. "I believe you, Buck, it's just..."

Bucky nodded as Steve trailed off, taking a large breath. The pain in Steve's eyes was agony, but if it laid it all out in the open, he'd bleed happily so there were no more miscommunication. "I know," Bucky said, shifting himself closer to Steve, "I know. It's hard to wrap your head around, and we don't expect... we know it's going to take time, but nothing feels good without you there, for either of us." Bucky lifted his hand, pushing at the fringe of hair on Steve's forehead, brushing it back with his fingers. "it's not us against you. It's us with you."

The way Bucky said it made it seem so easy, so effortless, but Steve was still at a loss as how they were supposed to proceed. He'd meant what he'd said to Darcy yesterday, that he wanted to get to know her, that he needed to know her if she was going to such a big presence in their lives, and it was their lives. All three of them. Together. "So what happens now?"

Bucky couldn’t help the grin as it climbed to his lips, heart singing at Steve's words. Once Steve committed to something, he was in, unconditionally, and despite the lunacy of the situation, this was no different.

Bucky closed the distance between them, his lips pressing against Steve's. For his acceptance, for his understanding, for the fact that he was willing to try. It was soft, and drunk with emotion, and when Bucky pulled back, he watched Steve's eyes blink at him, cobalt darkening at the contact. "We date her."

Steve couldn't help the way his eyebrows rose, brain still reacting to the feel of Bucky's mouth on his for the first time in weeks. "Date," he repeated.

"Yes."

"We date her," Steve said. Bucky nodded, corner of his mouth lifting up at the mystified expression Steve knew he was wearing. "And, if something happens with us, with me and her..."

"That's what I'm hoping for, punk. The thought of both of you, pressed together, skin against skin?" Just saying the words had Bucky's body thrumming with desire, and he could feel himself harden at the mental images. "It's like art in my head," he said, scooting closer to Steve, watching the blond's pupils dilate, knowing he was thinking about Darcy now, too. "All her curves, those lips of hers, the way her body moves? Tell me she doesn't do it for you."

Now that he was allowed to, encouraged even, Steve dug up the memories of first meeting Darcy, the day she’d grabbed the stone and saved them all. He'd buried his attraction, filed it away, set it aside; he had Bucky, after all, and that was enough for Steve.

But now? Now he thought of her eyes and how pretty the hazel was, how bright they could get when she was amused or frustrating someone on purpose. Her lips were full, pouting, reminding him so much of Bucky's that at first it'd been hard for him to look away. He'd found his eyes tracking to her mouth, his gaze following the movement of her lips as she spoke.

Darcy called to mind the pin-up girls Steve'd grown up with, the pictures that’d been hung in every soldier's barracks. Dark hair, red lips, curves for days. It’d been the ideal, the very definition of classic beauty, and despite how the times had changed, that was what he'd been attracted to. Was attracted to. Thinking of Darcy, thinking of being able to follow her curves with his hands, the idea of Bucky being right there, too...

Steve's breath came out in a rush when Bucky's hand palmed him, his eyes fluttering closed as his lover's fingers trailed over the fabric of his flannel pajama pants, body reactive. When he blinked to look at Bucky, Steve could see the flash of dark satisfaction in the other man's eyes, a knowing look on his face, happy at the attraction that has pinged through Steve's body as he thought about Darcy.

"She's like a dream, right?" It was too easy for Bucky to slip his hand past the waistband of Steve's pajamas, to wrap his fingers around the hard length of Steve's co*ck, thumb smearing the moisture that had already beaded at his tip. Bucky moved closer, hand moving up and down at a steady speed, grinning against Steve's mouth as the blond began to breathe heavier, hips chasing the friction. "Thinking 'bout the two of you gets me so hard that I can't even see straight," he said, tongue licking at Steve's bottom lip, shifting so he was crowding into Steve's space.

Bucky had always known just what to say, knowing exactly where to touch to leave Steve desperate for more. As Bucky's hand neared the head of Steve's co*ck, he squeezed hard, drawing a moan from Steve's mouth that Bucky immediately swallowed. Steve's hips jerked into Bucky, his hands fisting into the sheets below them as Bucky drove him higher, harder.

The sounds he drew from Steve were like music, and Bucky had practiced this song forever. He held himself up, hand pressed against the mattress to the left of Steve's head, watching the hunger chase from one side of Steve's eyes to the other. His hand was steady, relentless, and when Steve began to repeat his name over and over, Bucky knew the blond was getting close. He'd missed the taste of his best friend, and as Bucky kissed down the planes of Steve's chest and stomach. he had one singular goal in mind.

Steve bit his lip to keep from crying out as the warmth of Bucky's mouth closed over him, feeling the flat of Bucky's tongue licking him from root to tip before he was drawn inside, lips wrapping around him. His hands fisted in Bucky's hair, Steve's head lifting to look down at Bucky, watching him work his mouth up and down. When Bucky hummed around him, grey eyes flicking up to watch the expression on Steve's face, the blond's head fell back against the pillows, groaning at the overwhelming sensations.

He was drowning in the taste and smell of Steve, tongue flicking at velvet skin, and it was exactly what Bucky wanted. He held Steve down with one hand, the fingers of his prosthetic splayed over the blond's lower stomach, keeping Steve from thrusting up, wanting to be in control of his movements.

Bucky wanted to hear Steve beg for it, wanted him desperate and frantic and out of his mind. When he felt a tug on his hair, Bucky's eyes swung up to Steve's face, surprised to see how utterly close he was already. He'd known Steve's body had reacted to the idea of Darcy and the possibilities that were in front of them, but he must have miscalculated just how much Darcy rung Steve's bell.

Satisfaction thrummed through Bucky's body, wanting to taste Steve on the back of his tongue, shuddering and jerking as he came. He worked his mouth, savoring, taking his time. Bucky’d missed this, his insatiable desire for this man, and he was going to get his fill, even if it meant slowing down and speeding up, keeping the blond on the edge.

Steve's hands weren't sure where to stay, flitting from gripping and tugging on Bucky's hair, fisting and pulling at the sheets below him, scratching at Bucky's shoulders as his lover began to move quicker. Bucky wrapped his hand around the base of Steve's co*ck and slid until his lips and hand covered the entire length of him, moving in tandem, tongue flicking just right, perfect, and Steve shouted Bucky's name as he gasped.

As Steve came, Bucky froze, letting Steve's hips thrust shallowly into his mouth, hand squeezing, swallowing reflexively. He waited until Steve's body calmed, when everything was almost too much, too sensitive, before he pulled away, kissing up the blond's chest. Bucky fit himself against Steve's side, aftershocks making Steve twitch. As Steve's breathing slowed and returned to normal, Bucky pressed his lips to the side of Steve’s neck, tongue darting out to taste the salt on his skin.

Steve’s entire body felt spent, like he'd just run for miles, and he savored the feeling as he came back down to earth. He wasn't sure if it was the length of time they'd been apart, the emotions that were laid bare between them, or, most likely, the thoughts of Darcy that Bucky had solidified in his mind, but whatever it was had made Steve come harder and stronger than he could remember. Was that what it would be like if she was actually there? No, Steve thought, it'd be more.

When he felt like he could move again, Steve turned so he could capture Bucky's mouth, kissing him tiredly, softly, the gesture filled with unspoken apologies and silent promises. "That was..."

"Yeah," Bucky said knowingly, grinning at the way Steve still sounded breathless. "Now imagine if she was actually here." He couldn't help the smirk that curled his lips when Steve flipped them, dark knowledge filling the blond's eyes again, the huff of air as he did imagine it.

"You should watch that mouth of yours, jerk," Steve said, head dipping to nuzzle at Bucky's neck.

"How about you shut me up, punk?" Bucky's body surged when Steve's eyes flicked to look up at him, knowing what he was in for and ready for every second of it.

Chapter 11: Can I?

Chapter Text

“This is stupid, right? This is so dumb.”

“It’s not dumb.”

“Can you just agree with me for one god damn second?!”

As the words left her mouth, Darcy’s face crumbled. She turned slowly toward Jane, her eyes filled with apologies and regret.

“I’m sorry, Janey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just so f*cking stressed out and I’m this close to pulling a Britney and just buzzing off my hair because it won’t settle down despite the eighteen layers of product I’ve got in it and I don’t like any of the clothes I have, not that that’s your fault, even though you picked them out, but it’s everything and oh my sweet Bowie, I am so sorry.”

Jane’s eyes had grown wider and wider as Darcy had dropped to her knees and crawled toward her, finally taking a heaving breath in as she rested both of her hands on Jane’s knees and looked up at her imploringly.

“That was… a lot.”

The sigh was large enough that it lifted and dropped Darcy’s shoulders, the dark-haired woman leaning down to rest her cheek on Jane’s thigh. “I might have had one of Tony’s espresso blends.” When Jane sifted her fingers through her (completely and utterly stubborn) hair, Darcy practically purred in response.

“Worse than Selvig’s?”

“I think I can now taste in colors, too.” At Jane’s gasp, Darcy looked up at her with an impish smile. “Not really. But that amount of caffeine in that small of a glass should be illegal. Maybe it is. I don’t know. Help. Please, help me. I need to wear something that says ‘I’ve been in love with you all my life but you have no idea who I am and I really need to impress you and make you love me too’. Think we can find something like that?”

“I… don’t know?”

“f*ck.”

Climbing back into her closet, Darcy took a third look at all of her options, none of which had somehow magically become better since the last time she looked at them three minutes ago. She tore off the sweater she was wearing and threw it on the pile she’d started, the pile of ‘no no no, this is not sexy, he needs to think of me naked’ that was quickly getting bigger and bigger.

“Ma’am, Sergeant Barnes is at the door.”

“It’s fine, let him in, Friday.”

“... are you sure, Ma’am?”

“Yes, yes, for f*ck’s sake, just let him in!” Darcy’s eyes fluttered closed in frustration. Was it crazy to snap at an A.I.? Did she need to apologize to an A.I. for snapping? f*ck if I know.

Bucky pushed open the door to Darcy’s room, grey eyes taking in the new wall color (a sky blue that he recognized as one closely resembling the cornflower hue of their date for the evening’s eyes), Jane sitting on Darcy’s bed, and an explosion of clothing strewn across the room. “Jane,” he greeted with a nod of his head, eyebrows furrowing. “Where’s...?”

Jane pointed to the closet and then make a twirling motion with her finger at her temple. Bucky’s lips lifted up in a smirk. He’d anticipated the tornado in Darcy’s head and had come to help allay her fears. Obviously he’d expected correctly, though he hadn’t been prepared for the tornado of clothing that seemed to have destroyed the room.

He opened his mouth to say something when Darcy appeared from the closet, wearing a grey pencil skirt and holding out two hangers with soft blouses, as if she was going to ask which one looked better.

All Bucky could see was the stark black lace bra she wore surrounded by pale skin, flushed pink and looking utterly delicious.

“Buck, which one works better? The purple or the blue? I don’t want to overdo it, but I kinda want to overdo it, you know?” She frowned down at the shirts, holding each one against her body for a second before growling in frustration and throwing them both on the ‘no’ pile.

Darcy disappeared back into the closet without ever looking up.

Bucky was pulled out of his shock - so much skin, perfect, pale, gorgeous, prettiest dame I’ve ever seen - when Jane placed a hand on his arm. He turned toward her with widened eyes. He’d been so distracted by the deluge of heated thoughts that he hadn’t even seen Jane move.

“She’s in her mode. You know the one. Just... be supportive.” Jane patted him lightly once more before she passed him, the door opening and closing softly as she left.

Swallowing, his gaze flicked back to the closet, not sure if he wanted her to come out in only the bra and skirt, or if he hoped she was dressed from ankle to neck. Yes, they shared memories, but no one ever truly saw themselves the same way others saw them, which meant Darcy’s thoughts on her own body were skewed.

Even the briefest moment of seeing all that skin, the mounds held back by the lace, the stretch of the skirt over her hips… It was enough to make his blood race south. Bucky shifted uncomfortably, waiting for her to come back out, hoping she was dressed while hoping that she wasn’t.

“Do you think this wor…”

Darcy’s eyes had focused on the bed, expecting to see Jane there, frowning when she wasn’t. The question died on her lips as she took in Bucky. His hands were fisted at his sides, his lips parted as he stared at her. There was a tension in his body and Darcy felt her own react to it, a primal knowledge recognizing the heat in his eyes, darkening them.

Bucky took a slow step toward Darcy, the beat of his heart loud as it pounded in his ears. He watched her eyes dilate, the shirt in her hand forgotten, falling to the floor. Watching her body react to him sent a thrill up his spine, knowing the effect he had on her. “That’s a lot of lace, doll.”

Something about those words made things clench low in her body, pulse thudding until Darcy could taste it on her tongue. The look in his eyes was nothing short of predatory and her breathing sped up as he stalked toward her. It was easy for Darcy to forget that this was all new, even though they both felt like they’d known each other their whole lives. Despite all those memories, the years of shared experiences, this was still the first time that Bucky had seen her in any state of undress.

“You know how I love lace,” Bucky said, stopping when there was only a breath between them. He had a good seven inches on her, and the difference in height meant he was looking down the valley between her breasts, every quickened breath lifting and dropping, making her strain against the lace.

“Yeah,” Darcy breathed, feeling dizzy with the desire thrumming through her body, “I do know that.” She took a deep gasp of air when he lifted his hand, fingertip running along the lacy border, burning a fiery line as it traced along the fabric.

Bucky watched her eyes flutter closed, her eyelashes brushing against cheeks which were pink with want. He was pressed hard against his zipper and looking at her from this close, so beautiful and reactive and warm, it took everything not to crash his mouth to hers and walk them backward to the bed.

“Wearing something like this around me can be dangerous.”

The way he said ‘dangerous’ made her shiver, goosebumps popping onto her arms, and Darcy let out a shuddering breath. “He’d like it too, right?” When she managed to open her eyes, she could see the knowledge in Bucky’s stare. Steve would like the lace, she knew, and it was one of the reasons she’d chosen the underwear. Choosing lingerie Steve would like was easy. Everything else? Not so much.

Nodding, Bucky hooked his finger on the bit of fabric deep in her cleavage and pulled her even closer, until she was pressed against the front of his body, her breasts pushed higher, threatening to spill past the lace. “He’ll love it,” he exhaled, watching his breath fan her hair backward. When Darcy looked up at him, the heat in her gaze matching his own, he knew it’d have been so easy to close the distance, to press his lips to hers and finally let his body show how much he wanted her, like breathing, like air.

He had no idea where he gathered the strength, but he took one large step backward. Both he and Darcy took in a deep gasp of air, knowing how close they’d come to crossing the metaphorical line in the sand. “Not until he’s here,” Bucky growled, hating their decision but knowing it was the right move.

Darcy nodded, tongue swiping against her suddenly dry lips. “Yeah,” she agreed, though the tone of her voice made it more of a whine. “f*ck,” Darcy chuckled, looking at Bucky through widened eyes.

Bucky answered in kind, smirking as he took a heavy seat on the edge of her bed.

“Nope, nope,” Darcy grabbed a shirt off the ground - doesn’t matter what it is, just get it over the girls - and pulled it over her head, the tag hanging free at her neckline. She jumped forward and grabbed Bucky’s arm, pulling him quickly toward the door. “Can’t do this with you here.”

“Darce -”

“Hey, no, this is not a discussion. You don’t think I see how tight your jeans are? Please. I see it.” When she pulled her door open, she turned toward him, eyes narrowing when he smirked that Buchanan smirk at her. “Nope, none of that. See? That right there is why. Get your ass moving.”

“If my jeans are tight on the front…”

She pushed him into the hallway. He turned back to her, his smirk widening when her hazel gaze flicked from his ass to his face, the pink in her cheeks darkening when she knew she’d been caught staring at his ass. Bucky watched her internal struggle, blinking in surprise and amusem*nt when the door was slammed in his face.

Hearing his laughter ring in the hallway as she collapsed against the door, Darcy tried to calm her speeding pulse.

“Hey… Friday?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Do not let me let Bucky in here when I’m not fully dressed.”

“That is why I asked, Ma’am, but I’ll be more forceful in the future.”

“That’d be dandy.”

There weren’t a lot of options when it came to ‘first group hang’ in the compound. Darcy hesitated to call it a ‘date’ because she wasn’t sure that’s what Steve would want to call it. This was all so he could get to know her, get comfortable around her. As far as she saw it, there were four different combinations, and two of them were the focus of this endeavor. The relationship between her and Bucky was solid. She didn’t question it. They both knew what it was and had no problem admitting such.

Though maybe a little rockier than they would have liked, Bucky and Steve’s relationship was solid too, at least now that Steve realized they didn’t want a life without him in it, but wanted him very much in it. All the time. Every day.

That left Darcy and Steve’s relationship with each other, as well as the three of them as a unit. Her relationship with Steve was like starting from the beginning. Even if she was one-hundred percent certain that she loved him, they still needed to work on building everything from his side. He’d said he wanted to get to know her, and that was her ultimate goal. So Darcy didn’t see this so much as a date or a fact-finding mission, it was more of a fact-giving mission.

Yeah. Bucky was right to laugh at that. Sounds ridiculous.

There were lounges for staff scattered throughout the buildings, plus two different cafeterias, but neither of them really gave the ambience Darcy was hoping for. When Bucky had suggested he plan everything, she hadn’t known what to expect. Telling her to be on the roof at 8pm sharp had made her pretty curious, but she’d given him the benefit of the doubt. She trusted him, absolutely.

She squinted up at the stars, trying to remember anything Jane had taught her, but her stomach was tied in so many knots that her brain blanked, not even able to find the big dipper. Get your sh*t together or you’ll end up -

Darcy spun on her heel when the door behind her opened, trying not to openly gape as both men stepped through. Steve was wearing a pair of dark jeans, folded at the ankle over dark brown boots. His button down was a deep blue, pushed up and cuffed at his forearms. She wasn’t sure what it was about a man with a button down rolled to his elbows, but damn did it leave her breathless.

Bucky was no exception. His jeans had just the right amount of rugged holes, his crimson henley open at the neck, showing a hint of chest hair and well defined pecs. She absently wondered if Bucky had picked their shirts on purpose, both a pretty good approximation of the colors she saw in her head; Bucky the color of blood, the blue cobalt of Steve’s shirt echoing the line that tied the two men, and now herself, together.

“You both look…”

Steve moved forward, guided by Bucky’s hand at the small of his back. He’d frozen when his eyes had landed on Darcy looking like a vision, a background of stars framing the curves of her body. The pencil skirt ended just below her knees, tight and stretched beautifully, the white blouse sheer enough that he could see a dark blue tank beneath. Her hair hung around her face in waves and he wondered if her curls were really as soft as they looked.

“You’re stunning, doll,” Bucky said, leaving Steve in his stupor, smoothly moving until he could pull Darcy toward him and press a kiss to her cheek. He left his mouth near her ear and whispered low. “If Jane picked this top out, I owe her roses.”

“Send them to Tony Stark,” she said, leaving her eyes on Steve as he held back, “Friday helped me pick it out.”

“I’m not sending flowers to a computer,” Bucky said, pulling back with a shake of his head and a soft chuckle. He stepped aside, looking back at Steve, a smirk curling his lips. He knew when Steve was gobsmacked. The blond had always been that way around pretty dames, and here was a beautiful lady looking at him like he was dessert. After their morning together a few days previous, where Bucky had primed Steve with mental images of the three of them together, he had a pretty good idea what was running through the blond’s head.

“You look… beautiful… tonight.” It was stilted, and awkward, and Steve’s mind sparked with embarrassment, but this was the first time he’d looked at Darcy, really looked at her, and the pull of attraction was strong.

Darcy shifted her weight from one foot to the other, smiling softly as she looked at Steve. “Just tonight?” When his face blanched and he opened his mouth to apologize, she waved her hand at him and took the first step. “I’m joking, Steve. Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.” As she neared, she realized Bucky and Steve were the same height, somehow making her feel incredibly small as she looked up at him. “Thank you, again, for coming. I know you don’t have to -”

“I didn’t have to. I wanted to,” Steve interrupted softly. It took him another breath, but he reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her forward. She came willingly, happily, and he felt her sharp intake of breath as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to her cheek, just like Bucky had. Her skin was warm, and he felt his own pinken as he pulled back.

The vision of the two of them, bodies pressed closely, had Bucky’s pulse singing, his heart thudding at the picture they made. When they’d stood there for a few beats, Steve’s hand still holding Darcy’s, both of them smiling shyly at each other, Bucky cleared his throat loud enough to draw their attention. He was disappointed when they’re hands dropped, but he gestured with a wave of his arm to an area a little further away.

As Steve rounded a large air conditioning duct, Darcy at his side, his eyes lit upon a makeshift picnic, complete with a basket and camping lantern. A memory from his and Bucky’s past sprang to mind and he opened his mouth to mention it but was beaten to the punch by Darcy.

“Just like that night in Prospect Park?”

“But warmer,” Bucky said with a nod, taking a seat on the blanket he’d spread out. “And the fruit isn’t half rotten.”

Steve watched Darcy and Bucky discuss a night she hadn’t been there for, and for the first time it really hit him that she remembered everything. If Bucky had been there, then she knew about it. He’d been told, and she’d even proved it to him the last time they’d spoke, but having it displayed with crystal clarity was still a shock.

When Darcy and Bucky shifted their attention to him, both of their eyes filled with careful hesitation and a spark of hope, he gave a small smile and moved to sit down on Bucky’s other side. “We got a pretty good deal on them, though.”

“Yeah, a dumpster dive discount,” Darcy said with a wide grin. It faltered slightly when Bucky’s gaze twisted toward her. Her eyes widened impossibly large, realizing that Bucky hadn’t exactly been forthcoming with that information, feeding Steve a line about how the shop owner had only made him pay a fraction of the price, much different than the truth that they were being thrown away and Bucky’d rescued the fruit from the boxes in the alley.

“Oh, f*ck, I didn’t -”

The snort that Steve made was heartfelt, and he shook his head as he reached for a grape. “I figured as much. It seemed a bit out of character for O’Malley to give discounts. Everything tasted just as good, even if it was a little bruised.”

“Much like you’d been that night, punk. Who had you fought with that week? The Denney boys?”

Happy to keep her mouth shut so she didn’t shove another foot in it, Darcy grabbed a piece of cheese and popped it in her mouth, smoothing out her skirt as she listened to them reminiscence.

“No, not the Denneys. The Olsons, I think.”

“You’d come home, covered in dirt and mud and your Ma would give you a tongue lashing, always ending with a kiss to your forehead and a long-suffering ‘boyo’.” Bucky watched the memories flow behind Steve’s eyes. He remembered what it was like, watching his best friend lose someone so important. The day they’d put Sarah to rest was the day Bucky’d sworn he’d always watch out for Steve, that he’d always make sure he was taken care of.

“I’d love to hear more about her,” Darcy said, voice soft, trying not to squirm when both sets of eyes flicked toward her.

“Well, I suppose you know most of it already,” Steve said, the ghosts of his past still clouding his eyes.

Darcy gave him a sympathetic smile, reaching out to pat his hand. “I’d still like to hear it from you.”

As she watched the sad happiness fill the blue of his eyes, Darcy felt her chest tighten with unexpressed grief. It was difficult, having memories of Sarah and her loss, but never having really mourned the woman herself. Bucky was good at guarding his emotions, not showing what he didn’t want others to see. Darcy’d learned the same, a child of the foster care system, but seeing the pain in Steve’s eyes made her own fill with tears.

“Only if you want to, of course.” She reached up and flicked the tear from the corner of her eye before it could fall free, giving him the most comforting smile she could muster.

“I wouldn’t even know where to start,” Steve said, feeling the undiluted compassion from the woman whose hand was so warm on his.

“Start with the Gaelic. It’s the best place.” Bucky reached into the basket he’d brought, pulling out a bottle of red wine. Neither him or Steve would get anything out of the alcohol, but he knew it was Darcy’s favorite, and he didn’t want her to be the only one drinking.

Steve nodded, knowing he’d butcher the Gaelic, unable to fully capture the way his Ma had twisted her tongue and made the language so beautiful. “When she was angry she’d bite out A leanbh*, but most of the time she simply said A thaisce**…”

The bottle of wine was empty where it laid on the quilt, the boys having given their glasses to Darcy when hers had quickly emptied. She had stretched out, head lifted with her cheek in hand, looking across the space at the two men. Her ribs ached from laughing, hearing them recount their childhood growing up in Brooklyn and the antics they’d pulled. The money may have been tight, but they were rich in so many other ways, and the looks on their faces said as much. A lot of the stories she’d already known, but Steve supplemented familiar stories with new ones.

“But he didn’t duck in time, distracted by a redhead in the front row, so I really did punch him. He was out for a few hours. No permanent damage, just a bruised ego and a new grudge against me.”

Darcy’s smile widened when Steve glanced in her direction. “That was the first thing I said to you, remember? That I knew you’d punched Hitler a few times?”

“More than a few,” Steve corrected, genuine grin on his face. When Darcy smoothed her hand down her skirt, his eyes followed, gaze climbing the peaks and falling into the valleys of her curves. He coughed lightly when he realized what he was doing, eyes flicking back to her face. “It looks like you’ve got the glowing bit under control since then.”

Darcy glanced down at herself and then back up at Steve with a grin. “I’ve been feeling a bit more solid lately. Working with Bruce has really helped. I owe Tony, I guess.” She had no intention of telling the ass that, though, as she couldn’t imagine the amount of gloating Tony would throw in her direction at every available opportunity. “He’s letting me have a ‘supervised field trip’ tomorrow.”

“You’re getting a pass to go off base?” Bucky sat up straighter. He’d been lounged back, watching Darcy and Steve converse, happy to let them navigate while he was just along for the ride. At the mention of her trip, seriousness bled back into him.

“More or less.”

“Has Stark put together a team?”

Darcy’s eyebrows lifted at the focused look in Bucky’s gaze. “I don’t know if that’s necessary, Buck. It’s just the mall. Besides, it’s not like I have a lot of money to blow or anything. The piggy bank I had was destroyed by the evil male version of Violet Beauregarde, so…”

Bucky frowned, watching Steve do the same, neither of them getting her reference.

“Please tell me you’re joking.” They both shook their heads at her. “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory? Gene Wilder? Oompa-Loompas? Neither of you have…?” Darcy’s voice was incredulous, shaking her head in disappointment. “Well that settles that. Looks like our next date will be a movie night.”

Steve looked down at his hands when she said the word ‘date,’ soft smile pulling at his lips. It was strange, sitting next to the love of his life, who was absolutely fine with the idea of them ‘dating’ someone else. One day maybe Steve would get used to the strangeness of their life, but it’d take a little bit more for it all to feel normal.

“You should ask Tony about the per diem.” Steve glanced up at Darcy, seeing the confusion in her hazel gaze. “The stipend we get. You can’t really hold down a normal job as an Avenger so he made funds available for us to use.”

When Darcy’s eyes swung over to him, Bucky nodded his head, answering her unspoken question. “It’s true.”

“But… I’m not an Avenger,” Darcy said, frowning.

“Technically no, but I’m sure you qualify in some respect. Worse case scenario is Tony finds work for you to do around the lab.”

Darcy sighed, her arms stretching along the quilt until her cheek rested on her bicep. The wine had made her warm, and the excitement of getting to go off campus and possibly buy new things left her feeling floaty. “I’m going to be a lab monkey for my entire life, aren’t I?”

“What else would you want to do?” Steve asked, regarding her with soft eyes. “You graduated?”

“High school? Yes. College? Debatable.” Darcy watched Steve’s eyes narrow slightly, the look he got when he was confused but didn’t want to pry. It was adorable and the stupid dopey grin on her face telegraphed as much. “There’s one class I need to finish then, yeah, I’d have my degree. But I don’t know if that’s what I want, you know? Don’t get me wrong, college was great, and getting to meet Jane and Selvig? Best thing ever. But political science? Maybe that wasn’t the right direction for me to go.”

Sighing, she laid back and looked up at the sea of stars above them. “After New Mexico and London things just seemed so much bigger, more important. What’s college when there are eight other realms out there, or aliens that can come from other planets and want to destroy everything? I never thought I’d be in the thick of everything, but even being a spectator seemed worth more than adding formulas on a spreadsheet and looking for trends in public opinion. I want something more than that.”

Bucky watched her eyelashes brush her cheeks before his grey eyes flicked to Steve, watching his lover stare at Darcy. Bucky could tell she was tipsy - she always got philosophical when she was buzzed - but Steve was looking at her with interest and honest curiosity.

“I don’t think you’re much of a spectator anymore, Darce,” Bucky said, smiling when she snorted in response.

“Tony said that once I’m cleared for good that I don’t have to stay here, I could move back to the city, just check in as needed.”

When the reality of Darcy’s words connected in his brain, Bucky looked away, focusing on the darkness of the forest that surrounded the compound. The idea that Darcy wouldn’t be there, at their side, filled him with so many emotions it was hard to filter through them all. Not having her there with him, with them, would be agony.

“Would you… want that?”

The careful hesitation in Bucky’s voice drew both Darcy and Steve’s gazes. He did his best to keep the anguish at the thought of her being gone from coloring his features but, based on both of their reactions, he could only assume he’d failed.

“Aw, Buck.” Careful of her skirt and doing her best not to let her chest break free of its lacy prison, Darcy crawled across the quilt until she was kneeling in front of both of them. Maybe it was the wine, or the tone in Bucky’s voice, but she grabbed both of their hands in hers, lacing their fingers.

“Everything I want is right here.”

Steve felt Bucky let out of the breath he’d been holding as Darcy leaned forward to press a kiss to Bucky’s cheek. He expected her to pull back but was surprised when she turned her head and pressed those red lips to his cheek, too. He took a deep breath and could smell her perfume, citrus and sandalwood, and feel the softness of her hair as it brushed along his neck.

Darcy sat back on her heels, their hands still joined, matching red lip prints on both of the boys’ cheeks. She couldn’t help the possessive smirk that turned her mouth. Steve was looking at her with such honesty, wanting so hard to understand her actions, and it filled her with heat and happiness that he was even trying.

Bucky was floored. Darcy, so close and absolutely stunning, Steve at his right, solid and there. Words slipped from his mind completely. As the Soldier he could never relax; his eyes were always open, always on guard, ready to fight, his only job to complete the mission, whatever the cost.

He’d never been good at staying still. But, here with both of them, he was able to breathe. Bucky was looking past the next mission, the next week, the next month. His entire life had been about Steve: getting to him, keeping him, making up for the time that’d been stolen from them. Now, he wanted to fill all his time with Steve and Darcy. Circ*mstances meant they’d need to take it slow, to make sure Steve was comfortable with everything, but as he looked at both of them... time meant nothing.

And everything.

Part of Steve felt guilty as his eyes kept trailing to Darcy’s mouth, the red of her lipstick taking his attention, the pout of her bottom lip leaving him rapt. When he thought of a ‘beautiful woman’, Darcy was exactly what he pictured; curves for days, full lips, dark hair in waves, acerbic wit and heavy sarcasm with a can-do attitude, and not for the first time, Steve realized how much Darcy reminded him of Peggy.

It’d put him off at first, how strongly he’d found Darcy attractive, because he was with Bucky and his best friend was more than enough for him. He’d spent his life wanting Bucky in one way or another. So his attraction to Darcy had been fleeting, acknowledged, and filed away.

Now? Now Darcy was looking at him like she wanted to be kissed and he found himself wanting it, too. He could feel the heat of Bucky’s gaze on him like the sun, almost vibrating with desire, his breaths shallow as it seemed like time and space itself was bringing them all together.

“Hey! You’re not supposed to be up here!”

All three of their attentions spun toward the bright beam of the flashlight as it illuminated their forms. Steve watched the guard’s eyes widen when he realized who he’d just yelled at. “Oh, man, I’m sorry Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes and your… friend. I didn’t realize, I mean, you’re free to stay up here all night, until you leave, until you want to leave, I mean. Up to you.”

Internally Darcy was screaming. She’d seen it, the look in Steve’s eyes, the one she’d been wanting for. He’d finally looked at her like she was more than the person who’d taken part of his lover’s heart. He looked at her like he wondered what her tongue tasted like and this mother f*cker here had ruined it, burst her happy little bubble, and she was Not Amused.

“Yes! Thanks! Thanks so much, sir! Glad to know the roof is safe under your watchful gaze! Who needs the Avengers when there’s someone making sure the roof is safe!”

When he dropped his arm and moved back toward the access door, Darcy wondered if she should feel bad for yelling at him. As she turned back to Steve and Bucky, seeing the delicious sandwich they made and wondering if they’d like her slice of american cheddar pressed between them, she felt positively no regrets.

Whatever spell they’d been under had lifted and she was left looking into the pleasant but ‘not currently thinking about you naked’ face of Steve Rogers. “Were you about to say something? It looked like you were about to say something before we were interrupted?”

Steve’s mouth fell open, the words on the tip of his tongue, but he chose to chuckle softly and glance at his watch. “Just that it’s getting late and we have a debrief at oh-seven-hundred.”

“Is it really that late?” When he pulled his hand from hers, Darcy was surprised she didn’t whine like a four-year-old who’d been promised Disney World but taken to Chuck-E-Cheese. As Steve busied himself picking up and putting everything back in the basket, she gestured wildly toward Bucky.

Bucky watched her hands fly through the air. It was like she was playing charades but was speaking a completely different language. When Steve turned back to them, Darcy’s hands dropped and she smiled guiltily at the blond. All Bucky could do was smirk at her antics, ignoring the glares she threw him when Steve wasn’t looking.

When Steve stood and held a hand out to help her up, Darcy took it happily, needing the help. Maneuvering to your feet while wearing a pencil skirt should be some kind of Olympic sport, she grumbled in her mind, though using it as an excuse to hold Steve’s hand for a little longer wasn’t a hardship. “I have a question.”

“Okay.”

“This stipend… how does it work? I mean, you’re not his employee, and I can’t imagine you fall under the Stark business umbrella. You have to be getting income from something else. Maybe licensing rights? Anytime someone buys a ‘Captain America’ lunch box, you get a cut of the back end? Anytime someone uses mascara, Bucky gets a bright, shiny new nickel?”

Darcy could feel the annoyed glare directed at her from Bucky, but everything faded away as the most beautiful sound in the world floated on the air. She watched Steve laugh, the first real laugh that she’d seen since meeting him. It was light, and effervescent, and she was pretty sure little cartoon birds would appear and start singing a tune with how perfect and amazing it was.

It felt like the air had been pushed out of Bucky’s lungs. It has been so long since he’d heard Steve laugh that he’d almost forgotten what it sounded like. Steve’d chuckled, he’d smirked, he’d snickered like a hollow man when he was annoyed, but a full-body, slap-a-knee-with-glee-painting-your-face laugh? He couldn’t remember. Before Thanos. Before Siberia. Maybe even before Germany and his fall. It was gorgeous, seeing the humor fill his cobalt eyes, and it left Bucky feeling euphoric.

Squeezing Darcy’s hand, Steve looked down at her with eyes that were lit brightly with merriment, a little breathless. “I’m not sure how it works, but you could ask Tony tomorrow. You’ll have to let me know what he says.”

“Sure,” Darcy breathed, though she couldn’t have told you what Steve’d suggested. All of her focus was on the way his forehead crinkled when he’d laughed and how it was her new goal in life to make him laugh as often as possible.

“You could let me know when we watch that movie? The factory one? Maybe Friday?”

“This Friday?”

“Unless you have plans, of course.”

“No! Nope. I have no plans. Absolutely no plans. I am pantsless. Planless! I meant planless.”

“She means Friday works,” Bucky helped, grinning as he hefted the basket and came to stand beside them.

“Yes! I mean that Friday works. For the movie. You can come to my place? To watch the movie, I mean. Not for… anything…” Darcy watched a grin turn Steve’s lips, amusem*nt lighting his eyes. “... and you’re just going to let me hang out here, being awkward? No help at all?”

“I mean, I didn’t want to interrupt. Wouldn’t be polite.” The way her eyes narrowed slightly only made the smirk on Steve’s face slant deeper.

“Forgive him. He’s a punk,” Bucky said, coming up to drape an arm around Darcy’s shoulders. “And he’s a punk who’s going to help me walk you to your room.”

“Such gentlemen,” Darcy said, grinning at Bucky, squeezing Steve’s hand until she was pressed between them, “but I worry we’re past my curfew.”

“Better get you home quickly then,” Steve said, pulling open the door and heading back into the compound.

The walk and elevator ride was comfortable, Bucky’s hand squeezing Darcy’s shoulder, Darcy’s fingers laced with Steve’s. She almost wished the elevator would get stuck so they’d be able to spend more time together… and that led to the inevitable ‘elevator sex’ thoughts. She could feel their heat on both sides and she bit her lip, trying to will away the amazingelevatorsexohmygod fantasies running through her mind.

As they neared their doors, she had the distinct impression all three of them slowed, dragging the night out just that little bit longer. When it’d gotten to a snail’s pace, she begrudgingly detangled herself from between them, biometric lock clicking open. “This was…” She shifted from one foot to the other. “I had a great time.”

“I did, too. Thanks for letting me retell stories you already know,” Steve said, reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck, trying to ignore the awkwardness he could feel bubbling inside him. He’d been seconds away from kissing her moments ago but now he didn’t know what to do.

“I like hearing them from you,” Darcy said, smiling softly. “Buck, the picnic was a great idea, I loved it.”

“Figured you’d both like it,” Bucky said, reaching out to tug on Darcy’s hand, leaving the basket by his feet as he pulled her into his arms. He rested his cheek on her hair, swaying softly, fingers brushing over the soft material of her blouse. “Be careful tomorrow.”

Darcy rolled her eyes affectionately as Bucky pulled back and pinned her with his gaze. “I’ve got Iron Man and The Hulk protecting me. I’ll be fine.” When his grey eyes morphed into a darker glare, she pushed him away with a laugh. “Ugh, I promise I’ll be careful. Happy?”

“More and more each day.” He put the truth of that statement in his eyes, watching as she accepted it, smiling at him happily.

Her eyes closed as Steve leaned in, just centimeters away, heartbeat hammering as his lips pressed to her cheek. “We’ll see you on Friday?”

“Probably before that, but yeah. Friday. It’s a date.” This time Darcy didn’t waffle on calling it what it was. A date. Their first date. Second. Their pseudo-second first date.

“Good night, Darcy.”

“Good night, Steve.”

“Sweet dreams, doll.”

“Get some sleep, Buck.”

When Steve turned toward their door and unlocked it, Darcy and Bucky shared an entire conversation, complete with hand gestures and frantically mouthed words. At the end they both nodded at each other, seemingly satisfied with what had been discussed in the silence.

Darcy leaned against the inside of her door, holding a hand to her chest, feeling the rapid heartbeat just below her breastbone. “Friday?”

“Yes, Ma’am?”

“A-plus decision on the top.”

“Statistically it was the best choice.”

“Statistics didn’t make Steve’s eyes focus downward at the girls when he didn’t think I would notice.”

“No, that wasn’t the blouse, Ma’am, that was you.”

Chapter 12: Mantra

Chapter Text

Getting into the back of Tony’s car had been a challenge. Darcy hesitated to even call it a car, as it was much more like a sardine can. Sure, it was worth more than she’d ever make in her lifetime and it was gorgeous aesthetically, but he’d known there’d be three people going on their little shopping field-trip and he’d still chosen the smallest car possible.

...and one of the people in the car could turn into a giant green monster, probably bigger than the car in the first place, which would leave her and Tony looking like squashed bugs. Darcy hadn’t actually met the Hulk yet, but she definitely didn’t want to have her first time be in this tiny-ass death trap.

Darcy leaned forward until her head was sandwiched between theirs, Tony driving and Bruce sitting in the passenger seat. “I still think calling ‘Chewie’ counts as calling shotgun.”

“Where do you come up with some of the things that fall out of your mouth?”

“We all have different kinds of genius. Yours is useless robots, Doc’s is his quiet and steely demeanor, mine is verbal wit. We deal with what we were given.” Darcy smiled when she saw Tony roll his eyes, pretty sure he was flouting the speed limit by at least thirty miles an hour. She’d pay good money to watch a cop give Tony Stark a speeding ticket.

Grinning to herself, she turned her attention to the characteristically quiet man on her right. “So, Doc, what are you hoping to experience on this fine fall day? Got a hankering for some Auntie Anne’s pretzels? Perhaps looking for that perfect autumn scent from Yankee Candle?”

Bruce shrugged his shoulders, keeping his focus on the trees flying by. “Both of us signed off on your leave approval and we figured -”

“- if you go crazy ga-ga-bananas and start destroying the mall, we figured we should be the ones to take you out.” Darcy watched Bruce turn his head and glare at Tony, the corner of the driver’s mouth lifting up in a smirk. “So just don’t go bananas.”

Sighing, Darcy sat back in her seat with a frown. “Thanks for the pep-talk, coach.”

Tony glanced at the rearview mirror, the colored lenses of his glasses casting her in a blue hue. “You’ll be fine, kiddo. You got this. And if anything does happen, Bruce’ll tranq you before it gets out of hand.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, casting her gaze out the tiny rear windows. “Well, that’s not worrying at all.”

“Just don’t think about it. You’ll be fine, Darcy. Think about shopping, or nail polish, or whatever it is you’re wanting to buy.”

He’d used her full name, and the shock at not being called a patronizing nickname settled her a bit. If Tony really thought she’d be fine, then maybe she should start believing it, too. “Nail polish isn’t really on my grocery list. A few books. Maybe some clothes. Speaking of purchasing things... “ Darcy’s hand appeared in Tony’s vision, palm up and fingers waggling. “Show me the money.”

“Don’t worry about it. You just pick out what you want and we’ll call it even.”

Darcy rose an eyebrow and pulled her hand back, seeing Tony’s eyes flick to hers in the rearview mirror before he looked back to the road. ‘“Call it even’ for what?”

“Thanos. Soul gem. Saving the planet. Don’t make it a big thing. It’s on Stark Industries.”

“Mmm,” Darcy sat back, grinning softly at how easily he’d downplayed her ‘saving the planet’. “In that case I’ll have to properly express my gratitude -”

“You’re welco -”

“- to Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries. She’s being very generous. Do you perhaps have an address so I may mail her a nicely penned thank you letter?” Darcy heard a snort of laughter from Bruce, watching as Tony turned and glared in the scientist’s direction.

A shopping spree? Maybe it was worth grabbing that glowing gem after all. Thinking about the perks since she’d grabbed the stone (and ignoring all the bad parts) immediately had the previous night’s date popping into her mind. Darcy felt like she was still floating on air. It’d gone better than she could have ever hoped, despite her desire to find and murder that guard, and just thinking about the two men had her cheeks heating and her stomach doing little flips.

She loved them, but she was heavy in the ‘crushing’ part of her affections. In the teenage girl’s room in her mind, Darcy’d cut out pictures of Steve and Bucky from the pages of Tiger Beat and pasted them all over the metaphoric walls. Their smiles, their laughter, the way their eyes had lit up when laughing… all of it made her feel like a fourteen-year-old again.

“Can I get a cinnabon?”

“Of course.”

“Can I get a kayak?”

“Why the hell would you need a kay -”

“Can I get a puppy?”

“I’m not listening anymore.”

“Can I get tattoo?”

“Do not make me turn this car around.”

Darcy’s fingers slid from spine to spine as she slowly wound her way up and down the bookstore shelves. The fact that Tony and Bruce were giving her space was appreciated, but she couldn’t help feeling like they were looking at her under a microscope, watching for any wrong move, like a stray glow of her skin, or her eyes turning orange. It was unsettling, but she did her best to ignore them as she browsed.

She added another book to the pile in her arms. Darcy supposed she should feel guilty about the amount of items she’d bought, but it was on Stark Industries, a multi-billion dollar conglomerate, and it wasn’t like she was buying a house or anything. Some clothes. New sneakers. A comforter and pillows that didn’t suck ass. In the big scheme of things, it was cheap.

I saved the world and all I got was this iPod!

Snorting to herself, Darcy decided she’d grabbed enough to keep her busy for a bit, looking up for the registers. As she moved toward the exit, she felt the same itch between her shoulder-blades that she’d felt off and on throughout the day. It was a weird feeling, she wasn’t sure what it was, but it kept putting her on edge. She glanced around, trying to be inconspicuous.

Nothing seemed out of place; the other people in the store were browsing, laughing, sucking down their Starbucks. She didn’t notice anyone who looked sketchy, or anyone even slightly odd. She frowned, trying to get her eyes on Bruce or Tony, surprised to find they weren’t trailing her like they’d been. In fact, as she walked down the middle aisle, she didn’t see either of them at all.

Something was up, Darcy could feel it in her stomach, and she placed her books on a table as she passed, doing her best not to freak out.

You’re fine. Maybe they’re peeing. You don’t know. It’s fine. It’s just the mall. Yeah, sure, Dawn of the Dead was in a mall, but zombies aren’t real. They aren’t. f*ck! Are zombies real?!

“Tony?” Her whisper was harsh, keeping her head high so she could see if his spiky dark hair popped up. “Doc?” She heard nothing, aside from a few snickers as a group of what looked like high schoolers passed the aisle she was in, no doubt laughing as she strained on her tiptoes, attempting to look over the shelves. “Bruce?”

“PUT IT IN THE BAG! NOW!”

Darcy ducked down, eyes widening as she heard a chorus of screams from the front of the store, where it opened into the crowded mall food court. “sh*t,” she breathed, the angry yells echoing around the giant room. No, not echoing. There were more screams from the opposite direction, near the exit that led to the parking lot. She clapped hands over her ears when a high-pitched alarm sounded, followed by the metal barriers falling, essentially cutting off any hope of escape for her or anyone else. “sh*t sh*t sh*t!”

It made perfect sense. Of course this would happen while she was at the store. Why would she imagine anything being normal at this point?

Darcy Lewis: Saved the world, died in a mall bookstore robbery.

“Where the f*ck are you, Stark?” she growled under her breath, quickly moving from shelf to shelf, trying to get a better look at how many bad people there were. If she could only see where they were, she’d be able to -

f*cking hell, you’re a goddamned idjit, Lewis. Pull it together.

Her powers were still pretty new and she had only just gotten the hang of them, so it really wasn’t all that stupid that she hadn’t thought to use them right away. Darcy blinked, the spines of the books she was crouched next to (‘50 Shades of Grey’ ugh) being taken over by darkness. She focused, watching as lights popped up all around her. There was an internal struggle, part of her wanting to widen the net to include the whole mall, but that was a slippery slope. She didn’t want a repeat of what’d happened before (not that she regretted it, as she wouldn’t have Bucky or Steve in her life if it hadn’t happened) and needed to keep things local, she didn’t want to push the stone any more than she had to.

Right. Look for the bad guys. Find the bad guys.

It was odd, trying to use her powers for a specific purpose. Everyone looked essentially the same in the store, but she realized that almost everyone had dove to the floor or was making themselves as small as possible, except for the bad guys. They were moving, darting from place to place, yelling at the person behind the register to hurry up.

The loud one was in the front, the other making his way to join up his literal partner-in-crime. Darcy pegged them, following their movements as she made her way up the center aisle. She heard several people hiss at her, telling her to get down, telling her to be careful. She was being careful. No bad guys were near them, not that they knew that. When she glanced in their direction, she saw their lights pull back away from her, like recoiling in fear. She knew what she looked like and understood their reactions; skin glowing from the inside with an amber light, eyes sparkling, their normal hazel colored orange with smoke and energy.

When she got close enough that she could put real eyes on the the bad guys, she blinked the colors away, watching as one of them stuck a gun further into the cashier’s face. The woman was crying as she stuffed bills into a bag. “Hurry up!” the masked person screamed.

“Well look what we have here, Tex!”

Darcy watched as the other masked person shoved a man forward. The man was already bleeding from the forehead and stumbled when he was pushed, falling to his side as a boot smashed into his back with force. He was wearing a matching smock as the lady behind the register.

“He’s the one who pressed the alarm button.”

“Ah, so we have you to thank for trapping us in here.” Tex’s voice was rough, almost sounding like they were using something that morphed their speech, the electric buzz of the changer surrounding their words. “Are you the only one who can get us out of here, too?”

When the man didn’t speak, masked douche #2 kicked out, catching the worker in his ribs. Darcy winced as she heard the heavy impact and the helpless groan that accompanied it. “Answer his question!”

“No! No, he’s not the only one who can get you out. Please, please, just leave him alone!”

Tex looked up at the woman behind the counter, nodding thankfully at her before lifting the barrel of his gun and pointing it at the man cowering on the floor. “Then I guess we don’t need you anymore.”

“Stop!”

Darcy jumped out from behind the bookshelf, screaming in the masked men’s direction. Before she blinked them from her vision, she saw both of their heads turn toward her, watching as Tex swiveled his gun away from the worker, leveling it at her instead. She didn’t know what she was about to do, but she couldn’t stand by while someone was killed. It wasn’t in her DNA. She drew on Bucky’s calm-under-pressure to keep her from giving into the quaking fear in her stomach.

Their colors were so bright in the darkness that it was almost too easy to push at them, to move them away from the man at their feet. Darcy felt a jolt of energy as her hands physically thrust forward, seeing a wave of power shoot from her and hit their colors an instant later. She wasn’t sure what she’d done, but she heard a scream, then another, followed by the shattering of wood and the clang of metal.

She blinked, looking at what she’d done.

Darcy’d somehow thrown them through the air, that blast of orange energy sending them flying. They were slumped on the floor, one against the metal barrier, the other near a bookshelf that had been destroyed as he’d hit it. She froze there, eyes wide as she stared at them, then down at her hands.

I moved them. I moved them with my mind! The realization hit her quickly, shock filling her brain. That shock was followed by the awareness that she’d used the stone’s powers for more than just a glimpse of color, and that doing so had left her open.

Vulnerable.

A voice in the back of her mind whispered that it’d be just as easy to extinguish them, to rip the soul from their bodies. They were bad people, after all. They deserved to be punished for what they’d done, what they’d been about to do. If she didn’t punish them, who would? No one. They’d get away with it, and then next time they’d start shooting first. She would be helping if she tore their light, absorbed it into herself, feasted on their very essence.

You have this power inside of you, but you choose not to use it. Think of what you could do, how you could clean the world of their filth. What rights should they have if all they do is feed on the powerless? You know you want to see them suffer. Do it, do what you’re meant to, take their souls and -

“Shut up!” she screamed at the voice in her head, hearing it echo off the shelves around her. As it continued to whisper sweet nothings in her ear, eager for the flare of power and destruction she carried inside, Darcy did her best to block it out, but she was struggling.

She dropped to her knees, hands over her ears, shaking her head. Even with her eyes closed, she could tell she was glowing, the power right there and waiting to be used. She needed to focus, to ignore it, to replace it. She began repeating her borrowed mantra over and over again in her head, just like Bruce had said to.

Til the end of the line. Til the end of the line.

“Darce?”

Til the end of the line. Til the end of th -

“Darcy?”

Til the en -

“Lewis!”

Darcy blinked up at Tony through amber hues, confusion in her eyes as she looked at him. He had both hands pressed to her cheeks, a look of concern on his face, worry in the whiskey brown of his eyes.

“Where were you?” she demanded, heartbeat racing with fear. She’d almost lost, almost believed the stone as it whispered to her, could almost taste their souls on her tongue. She looked over Tony’s shoulder at Bruce, seeing the tranquilizer gun in his hand as he blinked down at her. Just beyond Bruce was a woman in all black, outfitted like the would-be robbers, the copper color of her hair a familiar shade.

“Natasha?”

It was like the light beneath Darcy’s skin was doused with ice water, instantly going cold. Her brain put each piece together, one after another, until it snapped into perfect clarity and she understood what was going on. She wrenched her face free from Tony’s hands, using the closest table to climb to her feet.

“Dar -”

Tony’s words were cut off abruptly when Darcy’s fist slammed into his jaw. She’d planted her feet and focused on a spot on the other side of him, using the years of Bucky’s fight training to make sure she followed through and put as much power into it as she could. She hadn’t expected the blinding pain that seared along her knuckles, her body nowhere near as honed as Bucky’s.

They cried out in unison, Tony falling backward against a table and Darcy spinning with the momentum. She shook her hand at her side, tears forming as the pain throbbed, fingers flexing to ensure she hadn’t broken anything. She turned back to Tony, Bruce, and Natasha, absolute rage in her eyes.

“You f*cking f*ck!” She spat the words as Tony rubbed at his face, a trickle of red at the corner of his mouth. “What the hell is your damage?!”

“We needed a real world situation to gauge your control,” Bruce said, eyes apologetic as Tony just stared at her, “putting you into the public without knowing for sure if you could contain your powers was too dangerous. We needed a safer way, a better way.”

Darcy shook her head at Bruce angrily. “So you, what? Bought out the whole f*cking mall for some kind of experiment?” The look on Bruce’s face was enough to confirm her theory, and Darcy looked around at all the faces in the store angrily.

She recognized a few of the other “shoppers” now. She’d passed them in the hallways at the compound, seen them in the gyms and weight rooms, walked by them on the grounds. Everyone, every single person in the mall, were soldiers or agents. She’d been surrounded by soldiers the entire time. Hadn’t she thought it weird there were no kids running around?

f*ck.

When her accusing gaze landed on Natasha, Darcy watched the spy straighten, her shoulders squaring, her voice a rasp. “The risk to the public was too big. We had to know. Better here with us than out there.”

Darcy knew Bucky’s memories were making the words from Natasha sting more than they should, but the whole situation was terrifyingly familiar. It was too difficult to separate her own feelings from his, being filled with helpless anger, forced to be an unwilling test subject.

Again.

Just like HYDRA.

Just like Zola.

Just like The Soldier.

The adrenaline in Darcy’s body was dissipating, surprise and anger being replaced with fear and the bitter taste of betrayal. She couldn’t consider their words or reasoning, not yet, not with the shock of everything still so vivid in her system.

When her eyes landed on Tony, she felt her face begin to crumble. She’d spent so much time with the man lately that she’d started to think of him as a friend. Someone she could trust. He’d helped her, made sure she was comfortable, that she had someone to talk to. He was the whole reason she’d started her sessions with Bruce in the first place, giving her what control she did have over everything. She could see the regret in his eyes and it became too hard to look at him so she turned away, eyes lighting on the nearest “shopper”, recognizing them from the cafeteria line. “Get me back to the compound. Now.”

“Darcy, we could -”

“No, you can’t,” she interrupted Bruce, spinning to glare at him. “You know how scared of this I am, how terrified I am of hurting someone. You should have told me.” Her eyes flicked toward Tony for a second, watching as his jaw clenched, his eyes darting away from her.

Too ashamed to even look me in the face.

Darcy set her own jaw, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from crying as she turned her back to them. “Compound. Now.”

Bruce watched Darcy stalk away from them, the glassy-eyed soldier following her at a safe distance. He locked eyes with Natasha, recognizing the expression on her face, sure he was wearing much of the same. They turned in unison to Tony, Natasha’s gaze softening slightly at the look on the billionaire’s face. “Tony, this isn’t on you.”

Tony’s hand dropped from where it’d been rubbing his jaw. “Yeah it is. I was the one who moved the timeline up. Hill wanted to wait, but I pushed and this was the compromise. This is on me.” Tony darted out of Bruce’s reach when the scientist made to put a hand on his shoulder. “Could you guys make sure her bags get delivered to her? I’m going… I’ve got this thing. I’ll see you back at the base.”

“Tony -”

“It’s fine. Don’t forget her bags.”

Natasha sighed, crossing her arms over her chest as Tony left in the opposite direction of Darcy. When they were both out of earshot, she pinned Bruce with a look. “That could have gone better.”

“Uh, yeah, that’s a bit of an understatement,” Bruce said, pulling the glasses from his face, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “You think this was worth it?”

“I think Hill will look at the footage and agree that Lewis had enough control to throw two people across the room with just her hands and a thought. Did we know she could do that?”

Bruce shook his head. “I think there’s a lot of things we don’t know about her abilities. When Wanda gets back I’d really like for the two of them to compare notes. If Wanda shares the same mutant gene and that’s why her and her brother were able to develop abilities from the tesseract, then maybe she’ll have some insights of what else to expect.”

The spy nodded, quiet for a moment. “She’s going to be angry for awhile,” Natasha said with a shake of her head.

“She should be.”

“You think we made the right call?”

“I don’t know if there was a right call to make. There were options, and we chose. Sometimes it’s not as easy as right and wrong.”

The corner of Natasha’s mouth lifted as she peered at him. “You’ve really got that ‘inner-peace’ schtick down, Banner.”

“No,” Bruce sighed, dark gaze flicking up to hers as he shook his head, “I’ve just gotten better at lying.”

“Sergeant Barnes, Miss Lewis has returned.”

Bucky glanced over at Steve, a small grin turning his lips. They’d spent the last hour wondering how much of a dent Darcy was going to put in the Stark Industries bank account. He knew from her memories that she’d never been a huge shopper, almost never having any extra money to waste, but he hoped she’d made a few good purchases. She deserved it.

“How many bags is she carrying?”

“She’s not carrying any, Sergeant.”

Steve looked up from his sketchpad, watching as the smile faded from Bucky’s face. He could see the worry as it bled into Bucky’s eyes, recognizing the tension as it flowed. He let his pencil fall away from the paper. “What is it?”

Bucky glanced up at him, a frown furrowing his brow. “She’s been gone all day.”

“Yeah?”

“If you’d been shopping all day, wouldn’t you have at least one bag?” Bucky left his guns in pieces on the floor, their cleaning forgotten as he climbed to his feet. He called out to the A.I. “Friday?”

“She’s coming down the hall right now.”

“Is she alone?”

“Yes.”

It only took two steps to pull open the door, another one to cross into the hallway. When Bucky’s eyes landed on her, right hand cradled against her chest, face mottled and pink with tears, his suspicions that something was wrong were quickly confirmed. “Darce?”

His voice surprised Darcy enough that she stopped moving, pulled from the war of thoughts in her head. Her shoulders lifted and fell as she shrugged in his direction. “I f*cking hate the mall.” When her lower lip started to tremble, she looked up at the ceiling and let out a growl, feeling ridiculous for crying at all. “f*ck.”

Steve stood in the doorway, watching as Bucky closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Darcy. She buried her face into his chest, and though he couldn’t hear it, Steve knew she was crying. Bucky whispered into her hair, tone gentle and soothing, and whatever he said made her nod, both of them turning toward Steve.

His gaze poured over Darcy. He could see the redness of her knuckles and the pink high in her cheeks. She was upset, and the sight of her in pain didn’t sit well with him at all. Steve took a step back, giving them enough room to move past him and into the room.

Steve was surprised when Darcy threw her arms around him as she passed, pressing her cheek to his chest as she sniffled. It caught him off guard but he recovered quickly, returning her hug, looking over her head toward Bucky. His lover’s gaze was dark and worried, but Steve watched some of it ease as Bucky looked at them.

“Sorry for all the snot,” Darcy said, pulling back and brushing at the soft cotton of Steve’s shirt. She felt disgusting. The trip from the mall with the soldiers had been awkward; no one had said anything as she cried helplessly in the backseat, ashamed at showing so much weakness in front of what amounted to strangers.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Steve assured her, squeezing her in his arms softly. Darcy looked up at him, giving him a watery smile, though he could tell it didn’t quite fill her eyes like normal. “Did something happen?”

Darcy sniffled, nodding as she took another step into their room. This was the first time she’d been in here, and she wished it was under better circ*mstances so she could snoop. Instead, she was left rubbing her sleeve over her cheeks in an effort to dry them as she took a heavy seat on the couch at the end of their bed. “I went shopping. Kind of.”

“Gonna have to give us a little more than that, doll,” Bucky said as he took a seat next to her, pulling her injured hand into his lap. He’d seen enough bruised knuckles to know her fist had come into painful contact with something recently. He did his best not to let his dark thoughts color his eyes when he looked at her.

“Everything was fine. Bought some things. A dress. New sneakers. Thought I’d jump into a bookstore and get a few things to read. Maybe a coloring book or two. They’re for adults now, did you know?” Darcy said, glancing in Steve’s direction. She was going off topic, but as she didn’t particularly like the topic she was about to discuss, she figured she was allowed a little distraction. “Then someone started robbing the store.”

Steve’s eyebrows rose toward his hairline, feeling the first stirring of protectiveness uncurling in his chest. “You were alone? Where were Bruce and Tony?”

“Oh, we’ll get to them, trust me.” When Steve crossed his arms over his chest, giving her an encouraging nod, she took a deep breath then continued. “I thought I could blink, you know? See how many bad people there were, maybe help get people to safety. I don’t know, I didn’t give it a lot of thought beyond ‘fire bad, tree pretty’. But then they were going to shoot someone so I…”

Bucky frowned when Darcy pulled her hand out of his and gestured with both of hers, thrusting them forward. “You shoved them?”

“Kind of?” Darcy’s hands fell to her lap, struggling with how to explain it to them. “I could see their lights, so picked them out of the group and pushed,” she gestured again, “I pushed them away from the guy.”

“You… Telekinesis?”

“No!” She looked up at Steve with wide eyes, certain that’s not what had happened. “At least… no. Not telekinesis. It’s not like I could pick up that chair and throw it. Just… people.”

Bucky shared a look with Steve, the blond taking a step closer. “You shoved them?”

“I pushed them with my mind.” She blinked at Bucky, her shoulders starting to shake. At first he thought she was crying again, but then he realized she was laughing. Darcy’s whole body was trembling with disbelieving giggles, manic and high pitched. “Oh sweet f*ck, I pushed their souls with my mind. My mind, Buck.”

Steve knelt next to her, grabbing her other free hand, eye level with Darcy. “You did what you had to, to stay safe.”

“But I was safe. It was all a joke. A game. An experiment.” She spat the word like it was disgusting, Bucky’s memories making it sound obscene. “They were playing me. The entire place was filled with agents. Soldiers. Bruce. Natasha. They wanted to see if I’d blow up, if I’d self-destruct in a stressful situation, if I’d hurt people. Verdict? I threw two men through the air and had to stop myself from hollowing them out and swallowing their souls.”

Darcy’s eyes sobered as she looked at Steve, desperate to get him to understand what she’d almost done. ”I could almost taste them, Steve.” She gripped his hand tightly.”Just a thought away. It would have been easy. And I wanted to. Oh god, I could have killed them and it’d be all his fault.”

Steve watched the darkness and fear as they filled her hazel eyes, “all whose fault?”

“Stark,” Bucky said for Darcy, the muscles of his jaw clenching when she nodded at his explanation. He turned accusing eyes toward Steve, reaching out to rub his hand up and down Darcy’s back. “It was Stark’s idea.”

“When I told him I wanted to get out of here, he said he’d make it happen. Then he was the one who suggested we go to the mall. It was his plan.” Part of Darcy could taste that Bucky’s history with the billionaire playboy was coloring her anger, but another part of her was too afraid to separate her feelings from Bucky’s, needing his level head to keep from spiraling further.

Darcy felt a shiver travel up her spine, her mind supplying all the horrible scenarios that could have happened. She wrapped her arms around herself, pulling her knees to her chest. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to fight something this strong. It’s inside me. It knows what to say to get me to listen.”

“But you didn’t,” Bucky said, finger curling against her chin and turning her head to look at him. “You didn’t do what it wanted. You were stronger than it was.”

“This time. What happens next time? Or the time after that? All it’ll take is one weak thought, one sliver of doubt.”

“How’d you fight it this time?”

Darcy sighed, turning her head, resting her cheek on her knee as she looked into Steve’s blue eyes to answer his question. “I remembered what I had back here waiting for me.” The soft smile Steve gave her made her chest ache, knowing how close she’d come to giving in and losing everything.

She felt like Bruce; she had a a monster hiding inside of her, ready to escape at any moment, wanting to erupt in violence and death, and when it did, Darcy wasn’t sure she’d be able to come back from it.

Bucky draped his arm over her shoulders, pulling her into his lap. He held her while she cried, resting his chin on the crown of her head. His grey eyes found Steve’s as the blond stood. He watched Steve’s expression settle into stony determination. Bucky nodded, knowing what Steve was about to do and encouraging whatever wrath his lover saw fit to exact.

Absently Darcy heard the door open and close, but she was too weary to do anything but sniffle, afraid to close her eyes and let the colors steal her.

“Stark!”

Tony’s eyes rolled closed when he heard his name called angrily across the lab. He swiped a hand to clear the schematics floating in the air before him, spinning on his stool, a look of exasperation on his face as Steve stalked toward him. “Can this wait? I’m right in the middle of something important.”

The flippant look on Tony’s face made Steve thrill with more anger. “You’re not cleared to conduct in-field training and you damn well know it.”

Sighing, Tony crossed his arms over his chest, chin dipping, brown eyes guarded. “I see you’ve heard about our field trip.”

“We agreed that if we were going to make this work, us as a team again, that we’d need to communicate. I should have known the second -”

“Can you throttle back on the self-righteous schtick, it tastes a bit stale.”

Steve’s body was full of tension as he came to stand before the smaller man, the anger in his eyes turning them from sky blue to cerulean. There was a bruise on the right of Tony’s jaw, a small line of blood where Darcy’s punch had split his lip. “Where do you get off making decisions without -”

“It wasn’t my call.”

“If you think -”

“It. Wasn’t, My. Call,” Tony bit out, his glare matching Steve’s. He slid off the stool and turned his back to Steve, circling the work table, putting space between him and the angry blond glaring daggers at him.

He picked up a screwdriver and clutched it in his hand, using it to point in Steve’s direction as he spoke. “Lewis wanted a furlough, so I took the idea to Hill. She said the only way she’d agree was conducting a real-world exercise, to confirm the control Darcy had over of her abilities. Well, consider them confirmed.”

Tony tossed the screwdriver onto the metal tabletop, hearing it clatter as it slid into a half-deconstructed prototype helmet. “The exercise was a resounding success.”

Steve watched Tony lean forward, placing his palms on the workbench and letting out a long breath. He got it now, face softening as Steve realized what had really happened. He’d been so ready to believe Tony had overstepped their agreed upon arrangement that he hadn’t stopped to consider any other possibilities. He’d let his fear and anger on Darcy’s behalf color his thoughts.

Leaning his hip against a table, Steve crossed his arms over his chest with a sigh. “She’s afraid of what she can do.”

“Yeah? No sh*t.” Tony shook his head as he chuckled darkly to himself. The silence that descended over the lab was heavy, only broken by the sounds of Dum-E and U chirping happily nearby. Finally, Tony pushed away from the table, leaning against the counter behind him, leveling Steve with a worried glare. “Is she alright?”

“She’s with Bucky.” When Tony looked at him with frustration, not happy with the answer he’d been given, Steve nodded. “She’s scared of what she did, but she’ll be alright.” When Tony nodded, Steve’s lips turned downward into a frown. “She thinks you organized it.”

“And I’m sure you leapt to my defense, told her I would never do something so underhanded?” When Steve looked away, Tony nodded to himself, a self-deprecating sneer turning his lips. He knew things would never be like they’d been before, but knowing how little everyone thought of him was tougher to swallow than he would have liked.

“Yeah. Didn’t think so. But hey, it’s better to be mad at me than the system, right?” When Steve’s blue gaze flicked up to him, an argument about to spill free from the soldier's mouth, Tony shook his head. “Forget it. If she wants to go out again, tell her to talk to Hill. I’ve got to get back to this. Deadlines, feet to the coals, you get it. If we could keep this conversation private, I’d appreciate it. Don’t want to set back her training.” Tony shook his head. He waved his hand, bringing up his schematic, turning his back to Steve.

“Tony -”

Steve sighed when blasting rock music filled the air at a flick of Tony’s wrist, making it all but impossible to continue the conversation. Steve stood there, hands on his hips, watching as Tony took another sip from his mug and dialed back into his work, fingers a flash over the illuminated keyboard.

Casting one more resigned glance in Tony’s direction, Steve left the lab.

When the door hushed closed, Tony’s shoulders slumped forward. He spun on the stool, the blue of the schematic blurring in a stream of color. He stopped when Dum-E wheeled forward, holding out the screwdriver he’d thrown earlier. Rolling his eyes, Tony took the offering, setting it on the table in front of him. He frowned at the robot before grabbing a rag from the counter and pulling Dum-E toward him, wiping away a smudge of grease on the robot’s arm. “Useless.”

Chapter 13: Treasure

Chapter Text

Darcy wasn’t watching the movie, not really. She had it memorized, could probably recite it from start to finish if she were asked, but her focus kept darting toward the two men she was sharing the couch with. She loved Gene Wilder, and growing up Darcy’d dreamt about living in a candy factory and being whisked away from her life by some charming stranger who’d offer her everything she could ever want…

… but that paled in comparison to the prize she had right in front of her.

Sure, she wanted to make sure they laughed at the right parts (like when that whiney little bitch fell down the rotten egg chute), but she was also looking at them because how could she not? They were gorgeous, the light from the TV casting their faces in shadows, flashes of blue and green coloring their skin. Their fingers were laced together, Bucky’s other hand running up and down her calf absently, attention on the screen. Steve leaned against Bucky’s arm, grinning at appropriate times, looking confused at others.

After the sh*t show that’d been her week (No, nope, nuh-huh, this is a happy time, stop thinking about the people you thought were friends and how close you’d come to killing to two men), being able to look at something so pretty was like a balm to her. Darcy was able to forget the feelings of betrayal that still stung in her stomach, because looking at Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers was all she wanted to do.

As the Wonkavator flew over the town, Darcy watched Steve’s mouth pull downward into a frown, disappointment in her voice. “You didn’t like it?”

Steve blinked, pulled from his thoughts by Darcy’s question. He considered not answering, but Darcy was looking at him with those soft hazel eyes and he couldn’t help being honest. “It just seemed a bit self-serving.”

Bucky glanced at Steve then turned to Darcy, watching as her eyes widened in shock and then narrowed at the man to his right. Wrong answer, punk, he thought, leaning back so they could argue. Darcy turned her entire body so she was facing Steve with that incredulous look on her face, and Bucky could only imagine the storm of words that was about to descend in her bedroom.

“Self-serving? What are you talking about?”

Steve gestured toward the screen with one hand. “Wonka has been a recluse almost his entire life. His candy is great. Kids love it. Adults love it. The business is going well.”

“Mmmhmm,” Darcy said, nodding, eyes still narrowed at him slightly. “His is the best.”

“So this guy decides he’s going to let people into his factory. Not just anyone, but five lucky kids, putting tickets in the candy.”

“Golden tickets. Yeah.”

“His plan works and his candy flies off the shelves, selling out everywhere. Massive profits, renewed interest in the brand, and the publicity keeps going even after the tickets are found as there’s a media circus outside the factory.”

“Yeah, but -”

“Wonka puts the kids through what some people would call psychological torture in order to find a pure kid, a good kid, who he hands the company to. The kid knows nothing of business and suddenly he’s the CEO of a company with no experience, beholden to an older man with no family to speak of, and living in a building filled with dangers and strange orange men.”

Bucky’s eyebrows lifted as he turned away from Steve, watching the emotions fly over Darcy’s face. Her mouth opened like she was going to argue with him, but instead Bucky could practically see the realization cross her features like a wave, her dramatic exhale making him shake his head and smile.

“Oh my god.”

Steve frowned at the look on her face, knowing he’d put it there. “I know it’s just a movie, but it just seemed a little too farfetched to make sense.”

“Holy mother f*cking sh*t.”

Steve shifted on the couch, feeling guilty She’d told them how much she loved the movie and he felt like an ass. “I hope I didn’t ruin it for you.”

Darcy shook her head slowly, hazel eyes bright when they looked at Steve. “No. You just made it the best horror movie ever! Creepy man with no family invites five kids into his factory, pits them against each other and puts them through a series of tests until he’s left with The One, who he will train to follow in his footsteps! That’s f*cking awesome!”

Steve’s lips pursed, smile going crooked when Darcy stared at him, face bare with happiness as she gaped in his direction.

Bucky turned his attention back to the TV screen as the credits rolled, well aware of the way Darcy and Steve were looking at each other, feeling their warmth on both sides. “A young blond kid with an inferiority complex signs up to accept a heavy responsibility, one fraught with danger and the possibility of personal harm, without giving a second thought or worry for his own well being. Gee, I wonder why that sounds so familiar?”

Both Steve and Darcy turned toward Bucky at his comment. For his part, Bucky continued looking at the TV, an amused smirk lighting his features.

“Steve, I think he was talking about you,” Darcy whispered loudly, smiling conspiratorially at the other man on the couch, .

Steve’s lips lifted upward in a wry grin. “I don’t know, Darce. Are you sure?”

“How many other hot blonds do you know that agreed to become marvels of modern science and continue to be perfect specimens?” The pink that sprang to Steve’s cheeks made Darcy grin even brighter.

“You’re going to give him a bigger head than he already has, doll.”

“Aw, Buck. Don’t be jealous.” Darcy poked his ribs, laughing when he scooted closer to Steve and away from her fingers. She cackled when he ran a hand over the sole of her foot, making her writhe as she laughed. He knew how ticklish her feet were, but that was fine, since she knew his weaknesses, too.

Steve watched the both of them poke at each other, his blue eyes warming. He very rarely got to see Bucky so carefree, his laugh even rarer, but there it was, ringing through the air. The catalyst of the laughter was attempting to wiggle free of the couch, her dark hair sliding as she thrashed and giggled. The sounds brought a smile to Steve’s face. He knew she was still reeling from what had happened at the mall, and it pleased him that they were able to make her laugh, make her forget everything for a little while.

He had plans to tell her that Tony wasn’t the one who’d planned the thing, that Tony’d been worried and asked if she was okay, but every time Steve thought to bring it up, he could see the edge of fear in her eyes and thought better of it. He would tell her, or at least make sure she knew, but it wasn’t the right time, not now. Steve wanted her to keep laughing for just a little while longer.

As the two continued to struggle, cheeks flushed pink and their breathing heavy, the warmth in his eyes turned heated, unable to keep his thoughts from considering all the possibilities as he watched their bodies move against one another.

“StopohgodJamesBuchananBarnesyoustopthisinstant! Steve! Help!”

“Yeah, Steve. Help.” Bucky looked over his shoulder at his best friend, seeing the aroused look in the blond’s eyes. When their gazes locked, he saw the desire laid bare on Steve’s face, a knowing grin turning Bucky’s lips upward as he watched Steve’s lips part, his breathing speeding. “Hold her feet for me?”

“What?!” When Steve’s hands wrapped around her ankles, the strength in his fingers leaving no option of escape, Darcy sat up, slapping at Bucky’s hands as they jutted into her ribs. She was breathless and panting with laughter. Bucky’s fingers wrapped around her wrists and held them captive, above her head. Glad his digits were no longer sinking into her sides, Darcy’s breath came in short bursts as she recovered, still giggling softly.

The laughter faded as knowledge and want thrilled through her body. Bucky was so close, his arms stretched upward where they were holding hers. She’d ended up sprawled on top of him, her legs outstretched and held at the ankles by Steve. Darcy’s chest lifted and fell as she breathed heavily, eyes darting over Bucky’s shoulder to look at Steve. The soldier was looking at her, his eyes darkened to cobalt, mouth parted the tiniest bit.

There were so many thoughts running through his head that it took effort to filter them. Steve’s eyes poured over Darcy, the way her cheeks were flushed, the pink that trailed down her neck until it was hidden by the collar of her t-shirt. The t-shirt itself was stretched taut over her chest and he watched her breathe, pushing against the fabric, filling his mind with the question of what she was wearing beneath.

When his eyes darted from her lips - so full, pouting, pink and gorgeous - to her eyes, he realized she’d been watching him look at her with less than gentlemanly thoughts. He shifted, patting her legs awkwardly before slipping out from under them and climbing to his feet. “I’ve got to…” Darcy and Bucky were both looking at him with slightly incredulous expressions on their faces as Bucky lowered her arms and they put space between their bodies. Steve nodded, turning on his heel and going into the bathroom.

As Steve pulled the door shut behind him, Darcy let out a frustrated ‘f*ck’ and leaned forward to press her face against Bucky’s neck. When Bucky wrapped his arms around her, she shook her head. “Damn it.”

Bucky knew exactly what she meant, and he shifted his jeans so he was no longer pressed uncomfortably against his zipper. “He just needs time.”

“f*ck time,” Darcy said, pulling back to level Bucky with a glare. Seeing the impatience in his storm-grey gaze only made her hotter. “He’s going to drive me crazy, Buck.”

Bucky chuckled softly, shaking his head as he reached out to tuck a wild curl behind her ear. “Welcome to my entire existence on this planet,” he mumbled, earning a smile and a roll of Darcy’s eyes. His fingers ran up and down the soft skin of her thigh, brushing against the hem of her cotton shorts then starting the journey from knee to shorts all over again. When he glanced up at her, Darcy’s eyes were closed and he watched the sigh move through her body until it looked like she shuddered with it.

“Bucky…”

Hearing his name on her tongue made him want to crash his mouth to hers, complete the feeling that was raging inside on him every time they were in the same room. It felt wrong, being this close to her and not being able to show her with his body how much she meant. Bucky knew it was for the best, the decision not to be physical with each other until Steve was on board, but that didn’t make him want her any less or make it any less frustrating.

Reluctantly, Darcy pulled herself from Bucky’s lap and sat on her own cushion at the end of the couch. She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin on a knee as she blinked at Bucky, giving him a small smile.

Splashing cold water on his face had done nothing to put out the embers of arousal that still burned within Steve, and he was left staring at himself in the mirror of Darcy’s bathroom, wondering how they’d gotten to where they were.

He found Darcy Lewis stunning, all soft curves and full lips, acidic sarcasm and quick snark. Steve Rogers wasn’t blind, after all. He did, however, get his wires crossed when it came to Bucky. Finding his best friend again, possibly getting to build a life together, like they’d always dreamed… it was more than Steve could have ever hoped for. Bucky was more than enough for him, and even though Bucky had tried convincing him of the truth, it was still hard to understand how Bucky was fine with the way he looked at Darcy, even encouraging it.

Steve’d known Bucky forever, and he’d gotten good at being able to tell when the other man was lying. He wasn’t. He wasn’t lying about Darcy; not how he felt for her, not how she felt for him, and not how Bucky wanted Darcy and Steve to look at each other as more than friends.

The three of them.

Together.

Even with all that, with everything that Bucky and Darcy were doing to make him comfortable with the idea, it still left him feeling like he was cheating on someone in some way.

Steve wiped his face on one of Darcy’s towels, a pretty pink color that reminded him of roses and her lips, and pulled open the door. They were on opposite ends of the couch now, no longer tangled together, and Steve felt the surprising pull of disappointment in his chest. Acknowledging the feeling and setting it aside to unpack when things weren’t quite so awkward, Steve rubbed at the back of his neck. “Thank you for the movie. It was fun.”

Darcy’s eyes rolled up to Steve’s face, seeing the genuine sincerity in his blue gaze. “You’re welcome. Maybe next time you pick a movie for us to watch?”

He nodded his agreement, matching her bright smile with a slightly dimmed version of his own. “Sounds good. I’ve got training in the morning so I’m going to -”

“Oh! Yeah, that’s fine. I know you’re busy.” Darcy jumped up from the couch, watching Bucky move much slower than she had as he followed suit. When she was standing in front of Steve, looking up at him, she couldn’t help but let her appreciation bleed into her eyes. Gotdamn he’s pretty.

There was a second of awkwardness before Darcy thought ‘f*ck it’ and threw her arms around Steve’s middle, squeezing as she took a deep breath in. She wasn’t sure how someone could smell or feel as good as Steve did. Probably something to do with pheromones or the like. Whatever it was, he was delicious and she lingered, sighing softly when he wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

As Steve returned Darcy’s hug, he locked eyes with Bucky over her head, searching for any hint of jealousy, or possessiveness, any sign that proved he was resentful that there was someone else in Steve’s arms.

There was nothing in Bucky’s gaze except explicit arousal, the truth of it darkening his irises to slate, to the grey of a storm. He looked at the two of them pressed against each other and Steve could see the possibilities running through his lover’s eyes. When Darcy pulled back and looked up at him, face glowing and cheeks tinted, Steve found his eyes straying to look at her lips as she spoke.

“Thanks for indulging my movie nerdiness. I hope it wasn’t too much of a hardship.”

Steve shook his head, looking into the warm hazel of her eyes. “Not a hardship, Darcy, I promise.”

Looking up at Steve, she started to get lost in his eyes, watching him begin to glow gold the longer she stared. She took a step back and shook her head to get rid of the colors. Apparently peering up into dreamy blue eyes stole some of her control. Who’da thunk it?

Bucky kept his eyes on Steve as he closed the distance between himself and Darcy, melding the front of his body to the back of hers. He pushed her hair out of the way and pressed his lips to her neck, feeling Darcy’s quick intake of breath at the intimacy of the action. Steve watched it all with a carefully blank expression, but Bucky knew his best friend. He recognized the signs of attraction. Steve’s parted lips. Pupils dilated and shifting from his right leg to his left. The way his shoulders pushed back and his jaw clenched.

Darcy’s eyes fluttered closed at the feel of Bucky being so near, the front of his body like flames against her back, his fingers trailing on her shoulder and leaving a line of fire behind. When he moved toward Steve and away from her, she opened her eyes, watching as Bucky pushed the blond out the door.

When they were gone, she fell back on her bed, staring up at the little stuck-on stars as they glowed dimly, wondering how on Earth her panties hadn’t spontaneously busted by this point

Bucky’s mouth was on Steve’s the second their bedroom door shut behind them. Watching Steve’s face, seeing the way the blond’s eyes followed Darcy when she moved? It was going to rip him apart. He’d gone too long without pressing his lips to Steve’s and after the ramp up in Darcy’s room, he was desperate with desire. His hands were already pulling on the hem of Steve’s shirt, wanting to feel the warm skin underneath.

He could do little else but accept the driving force that was his best friend’s mouth, and Steve welcomed it with a hunger of his own. Absently he considered it unfair that what had happened in Darcy’s bedroom was used as some kind of foreplay for an act she wouldn’t participate in, but the feeling of Bucky’s hands tugging at his clothing blanked everything else from his mind.

Steve’s shirt was thrown over his shoulder, and Bucky took the opportunity, running his hands up Steve’s stomach and chest, feeling every dip of muscles, his thumb brushing over Steve’s hardened nipple and earning a hiss for his actions. It felt like his heartbeat was pumping too fast, his breath short and coming in pants.

Bucky rubbed his face along the stubble of Steve’s jaw, tongue darting out to lick a wet, hot line up the column of Steve’s throat. He could feel the steady thumpthumpthump of Steve’s pulse just below his skin, Bucky’s teeth biting hard, just this side of hurting. His fingers tangled in the soft strands of blond at the back of Steve’s neck, pulling and exposing more skin for him to pay attention to.

When Bucky’s tongue dipped into the hollow at his clavicle, Steve gasped, hands fumbling, grabbing the back of Bucky’s shirt and wrenching it up and over, throwing it to join his somewhere on the floor. “f*ck, Bucky,” he breathed, pulling Bucky’s pouting lower lip between his teeth, sucking once, feeling the shudder go through his lover’s body. “Want you.”

The arousal that was burning in Steve’s stomach only fanned hotter when he felt Bucky’s hands at his belt, freeing the leather, fumbling with the buttons and zipper. It felt like forever had passed before he felt Bucky’s hand – so warm, so strong, so perfect – wrap around the velvet swell of him, both of them sighing at the feeling. Bucky’s hand moved down and back up the length of Steve’s co*ck before repeating the motion, drawing little gasps and hisses as he pushed them backward toward the bed.

It was a mad dash, trying to free themselves from the rest of their clothing, but seconds later the full press of skin on skin left them both moaning in satisfaction. “f*ck, you feel so good, Steve, so hard.”

Steve shivered at the growl of Bucky’s voice in his ear, the feeling of the other man’s co*ck rubbing against his. He fisted his hand in Bucky’s dark hair, capturing his lover’s mouth, crashing. “Hard for you,” Steve said against Bucky’s lips, tongue darting out to run along the seam, curling upward in Bucky’s mouth when he pulled back.

“Just for me?” Bucky asked, pupils blown as he looked into Steve’s eyes from inches away, his body thrumming with energy.

He knew what Bucky was asking, and the scenarios Steve had been imaging across the hall sprung back to mind, his co*ck twitching at the memory of Darcy’s face as Bucky had pressed himself against her back, Bucky’s lips on her neck. Steve didn’t answer, just gasped when Bucky continued to drive them back. Bucky’s hand reached around to squeeze the swell of Steve’s ass, fingers digging in as he ground himself against the blond.

Bucky wanted Steve breathless, moaning and begging, craving and asking for more. He tore his mouth from Steve’s, pushing until the back of Steve’s legs hit the bed, taking a heavy seat. Steve’s eyes were so blue as they gazed up at Bucky, desire clear in their depths, impossibly long eyelashes brushing his cheeks.

Steve scooted back on the bed, heart racing as Bucky crawled up the length of his body, eyes dark and predatory, his pulse racing at the intensity in his lover’s eyes. Bucky settled himself between Steve’s open hips, leaning down to capture Steve’s mouth. He bit hard on Steve’s lower lip when the blond traced his hands up and down his back, fingernails dragging and scratching, squeezing his ass and grinding up into him. “You drive me f*cking crazy,” Bucky growled, tongue licking into Steve’s mouth, swallowing the gasp as he wrapped his hand around Steve’s co*ck again.

Bucky wasn’t the only one going crazy, and Steve struggled to focus on anything except the desire singing through his veins, wanting to feel Bucky against him, around him, inside of him. Every bit of his skin was on fire, every place it rubbed against Bucky’s sparking like electricity. Bucky laid the full weight of his body on top of him, and Steve had to stop himself from bucking upward, chasing the friction he so desperately wanted. “Want to feel you.”

Steve’s words drew a dark and knowing smirk on Bucky’s lips. “Want me, huh? Want me to do this?” Bucky’s fingers moved up and down, twisting when he got to the top of Steve’s co*ck, just like the blond liked. “Or this?” Bucky pushed Steve’s knees to the side, slotting himself further between Steve’s legs. “Want me right here?”

Gasping, Steve grabbed the back of Bucky’s neck and jerked him down, needing to taste Bucky, his tongue seeking his lovers, gasping again when Bucky palmed his sack, squeezing softly. “f*ck, yes.”

“How about here?”

“Bucky!” Steve moaned, back arching of the bed as Bucky pressed a finger against his opening, giving just enough pressure to make him breathe heavier. “Yes, f*ck, there.”

Bucky leaned down, chuckling softly as he pressed his lips to Steve’s neck, tongue darting out to taste the salt on Steve’s skin. “Want me in you? f*cking you? Making you feel good? Is that what you want?”

Steve wasn’t sure how to speak anymore, the strength in Bucky’s hand on his hip holding him still, only able to writhe against the feeling of his finger and his knuckle as it rubbed over and over. “Yes, Bucky, please, please!”

It never got old, hearing Steve pant his name like that, and Bucky smirked, watching the haze of frenzy settle in the blond’s face as he increased the pressure, watching him take a shuddering breath inward and letting it out in a huff. Freezing, Bucky pulled back long enough to nod toward the nightstand. “Grab it.”

Wiggling a bit, Steve stretched until he could fumble inside the drawer for the slick inside. Turning back to Bucky, Steve couldn’t help the way his pulse raced. Bucky was gorgeous, dark and handsome, looking down with a hunger that Steve matched easily. He’d been in love with this man since they were children and seeing his desire echoed in Bucky’s face was enough to stop his heart.

“Come here,” Bucky said, grabbing Steve’s hips and pulling him back down until they were pressed together, hand ghosting down Steve’s leg so he could wrap it around his waist, the top of his co*ck just teasing against Steve’s opening.

“f*ck,” Steve gasped, eyes fluttering closed as Bucky took the bottle from his hand, hearing the pop of its top seconds later. He opened his eyes to watch Bucky coat his fingers, dropping the slick off the side of the bed before leaning down. Bucky’s left hand was pressed into the mattress next to Steve’s head, leaning down to capture Steve’s lips with his own.

He pressed his fingers against Steve’s hole, sliding softly, running his knuckle softly, drawing gasps and shudders with each movement. Bucky loved watching Steve like this, writhing and jerking, heaving up, fists curling in the comforter. It wasn’t until Steve asked, until the word please was falling from his mouth over and over, that Bucky gave Steve what he wanted, pressing a finger into him, slowly.

The feeling of Bucky’s finger left Steve jerking, feeling wetness as he leaked against his own stomach, fighting the urge to grind himself down and onto Bucky’s finger. He felt Bucky’s exhale outward, eyes opening to see Bucky looking down at him, a fever in the grey of his eyes. He gasped Bucky’s name when a second finger worked its way into him. “Want you, Buck, please, f*ck me.”

Bucky ached to be inside Steve, to feel every breath and shudder that ran through his lover’s body, to bring their bodies together again and again, but he wanted it to be good for Steve, too, so he worked quicker, stretching his fingers apart, making sure Steve was ready for him. It wasn’t until Steve gasped ‘now’ and ground down onto his hand that Bucky pushed Steve’s knees further open, fingers wrapping around his own co*ck, spreading the slick onto it.

Steve gasped as the head of Bucky’s co*ck pressed against his opening. “f*ck, Bucky, yes, f*ck me, now, please,” the last word falling from his lips, sounding pained with barely contained need.

Bucky moved slowly, so slowly, pushing each inch into Steve carefully, letting his lover relax and adjust to the feel of being so full. The desire that’d been vibrating in him since leaving Darcy’s room had him breathless, wanting to crash his body against Steve’s, until he could see nothing but stars and hear nothing but his name falling from Steve’s lips like a prayer. Every ounce of his willpower was tested, until he stopped moving because his hips were settled as close against Steve as they could be.

It was a song they’d been dancing to for years, but it still amazed Steve how well their bodies fit together. It didn’t matter if it was before the serum or after, his body was made to be with Bucky’s and it felt just as right and perfect as always. His fingers dug into Bucky’s bicep, looking up into his grey gaze, lips parting as he breathed heavily.

It was almost torture to keep his body still, especially looking down at the fierce expression of intensity in Steve’s eyes, and as Bucky pulled back, he let out a shuddering breath. Every move was deliberate, watching the flow of emotions over Steve’s face until he was just this side of pulling out completely. Bucky waited, watching the hunger in Steve’s eyes before he thrust forward with his hips, Steve’s nails biting into him, a moan falling from his lips. “Steve, f*ck, you feel so good, so f*cking good.”

Steve couldn’t keep his hands from flitting from place to place; squeezing the back of Bucky’s neck as he worked in and out of him with steady thrusts, hand gripping at the blanket below them, fingernails scraping down Bucky’s back and arms. His co*ck was pressed hard against his stomach, tip red and sensitive, wetness being spread with each push forward.

The way Steve ground against him was going to be his undoing, and Bucky’s thrusts became stuttered, speeding up and them slowing down, wanting to skirt the edge before plunging forward. He drew it out, until Steve was babbling, until he was a writhing bundle of nerves below him. Steve shouted when Bucky’s hand wrapped around him tightly, his fist moving in tandem with his hips, knowing what to do to bring Steve with him.

Stretching around Bucky’s co*ck could have made Steve come by itself, his body already on fire from what had happened in Darcy’s room, but his hips thrust upward into Bucky’s fist, chasing the friction. It felt like agony, delicious and unfair, but Bucky would move quicker, increase his speed, only to slow second later, and all Steve could do was moan, gasp, and fill the room with the sounds of his sighs and Bucky’s name. “Close,” Steve bit out, eyes wide as they looked up in Bucky’s.

“Tell me,” Bucky growled, his head dipping down to curl his tongue into Steve’s mouth, pulling the blond’s lower lip between his teeth, “want you with me.” Every part of him wanted to lose control, to let go and slam his body into Steve’s, but he wanted Steve to fall over the edge with him. “Yes, f*ck, Steve, want to come in you, you want that? Want me to come in you?”

“Yes, Bucky, so close, so close, oh, ah, f*ck, now! Now! f*cknownownow!”

Watching Steve come, his co*ck jumping, seeing him spill onto his stomach as his head fell back against the bed and his back arched, pushed Bucky over the edge. He came with a shout of Steve’s name, his hands like vices on Steve’s hips as he pressed himself as far as he could into Steve, wrapped in his warmth.

His body was still jerking with small tremors, feeling full. Bucky’s weight was comfortable and familiar as it pressed down on him, and Steve rode the wave until he could breathe normal again. He opened his eyes to see Bucky’s shoulders hunched, holding himself up on both hands, head hanging as he panted. “That was…”

“Yeah,” Bucky said breathlessly, moaning when Steve shifted underneath him. Everything was so sensitive that each breath sent him into an aftershock, until it was almost too much and he pulled back, letting out a tired and sad sound as his body separated from Steve’s. He collapsed onto the bed with a large sigh, eyes closed, heart still thundering in his chest.

Steve turned onto his side, melting against Bucky like liquid, basking in the afterglow. He knew they’d need to clean up eventually, but he wanted to do nothing else that moment except feel Bucky’s warmth on his skin. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re good at that?” Steve smiled at the sharp snort Bucky gave his question.

“Few people, yeah,” Bucky said, eyes closed and lips smirking up at the ceiling. “Helps to have a good partner.”

“Or partners?”

The quiet hesitance in Steve’s voice made Bucky’s eyes open, and he turned onto his side so he could see into his best friend’s face. There was a heaviness in Steve’s gaze, an uncertainty that Bucky wanted to ease, and his eyes colored with seriousness as he tried to erase the doubt in Steve’s mind.

“My entire life, it’s been you, Steve. Everyone else… they didn’t matter, not like you do. I know it wasn’t always the same with you, I know that you’ve loved someone other than me, but I know that doesn’t change what we have. What we’ll always have.”

Bucky watched the small flinch in Steve’s eyes as the blond’s memories of Peggy floated to the surface at his words. “Nothing will ever make me love you any less, no matter what happens. Do you believe me?”

Looking into Bucky’s eyes, seeing the truth filling them, made Steve nod slowly. “I believe you, Buck,” he said, giving Bucky what he hoped was an honest smile. Bucky’s words were true. Steve had loved someone else. He wasn’t sure he’d have made it through the war and the loss of Bucky without Peggy. His life could have been so different if things hadn’t come together or fallen apart as they had. Steve and Bucky’s history had led them to this moment, however, to where they were and who they were with. Maybe it was time for Steve to stop questioning why and start questioning who.

Who knew all his secrets? Who was able to make Bucky laugh, make him smile with happiness? Who could make everything feel lighter? Brighter? Who’d been willing to risk themselves to save everyone else?

Who loved him?

Steve’s thoughts provided two names, but he didn’t say them aloud, not sure he was ready to commit to what he felt, just needing a little more time. For someone who’d always been in a rush toward peril, Steve considered time as currency, and his pockets had been emptying fast. But the more time he spent with Darcy, the more he got to know her and see her eyes filling with affection he didn’t think he’d earned yet… he felt richer.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Steve said, rolling off his side of the bed.

“Okay.”

As Steve stood, Bucky worried that he’d said the wrong thing, that he shouldn’t have pushed the conversation toward Darcy, but he wasn’t sure what else to do with the fire that was burning within him every time he had to tell her goodbye. He sighed, nodding his head against the pillow.

“You should come with me.”

When Bucky turned to look at Steve, naked and gorgeous and looking at him with that look in his eyes, a happy smile turned Bucky’s lips. “Okay.”

The knock on her door went unanswered as the music in her headphones drown out anything but the beat. Darcy wasn’t a singer by any stretch of the imagination, but she was more than happy to hum along as the red-colored pencil scratched on the page. She wasn’t sure how the A.I. did it, but she was startled when Friday’s voice rang out in her ear, the tip of the pencil breaking with Darcy’s jerk of surprise.

“f*cking hell!”

“I’m sorry, Ma’am, but there’s a visitor at your door.”

Darcy glanced over her shoulder, pinning the door with a glare. Jane was off sciencing. Bucky and Steve had mentioned some sort of class, or training, or something else? She’d gotten distracted by their tongues and had spaced out. Whatever it’d been, she at least remembered that they weren’t around.

That only left a handful of people in the compound who’d come and talk to her, and though she’d started to get friendly with one of the ladies in the cafeteria (the Labyrinth t-shirt she’d caught sight of under the woman’s apron had sealed the deal), Darcy guessed it was one of the three people she didn’t want to see at the moment.

Her body still burned with betrayal over what had happened at the mall. Part of Darcy knew this was how everything functioned. She’d seen it in New Mexico, and now she was in the literal belly of the beast. S.H.I.E.L.D. loved to push, she’d been watching it on the news for years, so she didn’t know why she was surprised. Because you didn’t think of them as S.H.I.E.L.D., Darcy told herself, you’d started thinking of them as friends. Mistake number one. Mistake Number Two? Not getting a cinnabon before going to the bookstore.

“Who is it?”

“Clint Barton, Ma’am.”

Darcy’s narrowed eyes turned from anger to confusion as she pulled the headphones from her ears and turned away from the coloring book she’d been working on. She hadn’t had many run-ins with the archer, considering he’d spent some quality time in New Mexico when Thor had first arrived, and she couldn’t help but wonder why he was standing outside her room.

She let the headphones hang around her neck, tucking her feet into slippers as she crossed to the door and opened it a crack. “Uh, hi?”

Clint smiled at Darcy, a toothpick clenched in his teeth. “Ms. Lewis. I have been remiss in my congratulations and welcomes. So, congrats on the whole saving the world thing, and welcome to Avengers HQ. I see you’ve moved Stark let you paint?”

Darcy’s eyebrows rose up toward her hairline when the blond pushed his way past her and into her room, standing in the middle and spinning as he took in the soft grey walls, the best approximation she could get to the brilliant slate of Bucky’s eyes.

Her face darkened at the mention of Tony. “Something like that. Before he showed how much of an asshole he really is, Stark was persuaded to be generous.”

“Huh.” Shaking his head, Clint turned back toward Darcy, looking her up and down. “Are those Space Invader leggings?”

Darcy glanced down and then back up, chin lifting defiantly. “Maybe.”

“Well, they won’t work. Put something else on.”

“Excuse me?”

“Welcome to training, Ms. Lewis. I’ll be your teacher and you can call me Professor Barton.”

She blinked at him several times before her she could speak. “One? I will never call you that, and two? What the f*ck are you talking about?”

Clint took a step closer, co*cking his head to the side. “I saw the footage from the mall. It was a solid punch, but you committed too heavily. Nat said you punched like Barnes, not like someone of your size, and that could be dangerous.”

Darcy tried to keep the anger out of her eyes, she really did, but she saw Clint’s acknowledgement as they they filled with rage. “I know how to punch. One of the advantages of having soldier memories in my head is that I know what he knows. So if you think ow sh*t!”

Clint’s hand was quick, too quick for her to dodge, and she yowled in pain when his finger flicked hard against the tip of her nose. She rubbed it with her palm, glaring at him behind her glasses. “What the f*ck?!”

“Would Barnes have let that hit him?”

“You realize this is the first f*cking time I’ve ever really met you, right?”

“Answer the question: Would Barnes have let his nose get flicked by a stranger?”

“No! No, he would have dodged out of the way, done a cute little roll, pulled a knife from thin air and stabbed you to death for flicking his god damn nose.” Darcy pushed her glasses further up then crossed her arms over her chest, nose crinkling as it continued to sting

“So you have his memories and knowledge, but you don’t have his body, or the same center of gravity. If you tried to pull something he could do and fail hard, it could be a broken leg, a broken arm, a broken back -”

She sighed, holding her hands up to stop his words. “I get it, okay? I am nowhere near a perfect soldier specimen and that puts me at risk. Fine. What are you suggesting?”

Clint blinked at her. “You think this is my idea?” He laughed. “No, no no no, this comes from above me. I’m just following orders.”

Darcy’s eyes narrowed as she tried to figure out who would have asked that she be trained for physical combat. Bucky? Steve? Thor? Natasha!? “And you always follow orders?” The grin Clint gave her answered her question. “What are they, whoever your mysterious supervisor is, hoping to get out of this? It’s not like I’ll be going off campus anytime soon. Not after what happened.”

“You’re already cleared for leave,” Clint said, noting the way her eyes widened. “No one told you? That’s what the mall was about, more or less. You didn’t kill anyone, so you passed with flying colors. You’re free to go whenever you’d like. This isn’t a prison, trust me, I’ve been in several. But even if you choose to live off site, or even just want to take a weekend pass, basic combat training is a good idea. Just to be safe. It’s not a requirement, totally up to you, but I think it could be a good thing. A very good thing.”

Darcy looked at him, his face pleasant as he waited for her to weigh the pros and cons. She couldn’t really believe that they’d let her leave. She could leave! If she wanted a different kind of ice cream than they served in the cafeteria? Bam! Grocery store. Needed to get a new highlighter? Pow! Office Max.

Not that she had a car. Could she uber from the compound? Probably not. She could ask for a ride on Steve’s motorcycle. The thought of wrapping her arms around him as he sped through the woods? Yeah. That sounded pretty f*cking neat.

Sighing, pushing the secondary thoughts to the side, not wanting to wallow in anger anymore than she already had, Darcy pinned Clint with a soft glare. “I don’t know if you can tell, but I’ve never really been that great with the whole physical exertion thing.”

“I can work with that. I’m not thinking you’d be in an all out brawl. Maybe you just need to get your point across in a pretty definitive way. Maybe you need to wiggle out of a choke hold. Basic self-defense, that’s all.”

Darcy peered at him, trying to decipher the way he was looking at her. Expectant. The tiniest bit excited? “You watched the video? All of it?” He nodded, chewing thoughtfully on the toothpick. “And you still want to be near me?”

“You threw two men across the room with your hands. sh*t like that leaves a pretty big impression.”

If only you knew. “It wasn’t really with my hands,” she said with a frown, “I pushed their souls.”

Clint blinked at her again. “Was that supposed to make it less impressive, or more?”

For the first time since he’d entered her room, Darcy laughed softly. “Not quite sure, really.”

“I won’t pretend to know about powers. There’s plenty of things around me that I don’t get but I’ve learned to stop trying. I tend to just roll with things now.”

Darcy snorted. “Seems like a pretty blasé attitude to me.”

“You’re friends with a Norse god who travels here on a rainbow bridge. You able to explain that?”

“Touché.” He continued to look at her expectantly, and Darcy rose an eyebrow at him. “You mean now? Right now?”

“Yeah, right now. You got some more unicorns to color in or something? Lisa Frank dictating your schedule? Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”

Darcy glared at him hard when he began clapping at her. Annoyance clear on her face, Darcy crossed to her dresser and closet, pulling out what she hoped would be suitable clothes for fighting. Maybe it’d be good, getting her aggression out, exercising a few of her rage demons. If Barton was willing to offer his own body to vent that anger, who was she to argue?

Before heading into her bathroom to change, Darcy reached out and flipped her coloring book over, hiding the fact that she really had been coloring in a unicorn.

*

Two hours later, Present Darcy was cursing Past Darcy for ever agreeing to the bullsh*t that was basic self-defense. It was a joke, she was sure of it, and when she figured out who’d put Clint Barton up to it, she’d make their life a living hell.

“Mother f*cker!”

Clint shook his head, holding out a hand, grunting as he pulled Darcy back to her feet. “I appreciate the language, but you’re still throwing your body weight like you’ve got an extra hundred pounds of muscle.”

“So sorry that my super special mutant stone absorption powers are becoming a problem for your training.” Darcy’s words dripped with sarcasm. “It’s a pretty big change for me too, alright? Bucky doesn’t have boobs, it’s kinda a problem.”

“It’s a problem Barnes doesn’t have boobs?”

When Clint smirked at her, it took every bit of self-control not to throw him across the room with her mind. Except, it wouldn’t be with her mind, it would be because of the stone, and she was done using that bitch for anything.

“Show me again.”

Even as he came at her, Darcy could feel Bucky’s training fill her mind, reacting like she had muscle memory, only the muscles in the memory weren’t really hers and she didn’t move as fast.

She was able to stay on her feet this time, surprisingly, and she spun out of reach as Clint tried to wrap his arms around her shoulders. Darcy jumped and let out a whoop of victory seconds before her legs were swept out from under her and she fell back on the mat with a grunt of pain. She rolled to her side, groaning as she writhed.

Once again, Clint came to stand over her. “When you get co*cky -”

Whatever words were coming out of Clint’s mouth evaporated when Darcy’s foot darted out and caught him in the groin, shock and pain on his face as he fell to his knees.

“You said ‘kick me in the co*cky’, right? Because that’s what I heard,” Darcy wheezed, watching as Clint’s face turned a pretty shade of red. She laughed breathlessly, rising on all fours as Clint glared at her. “We good for lesson one?”

Clint nodded at her, blowing a breath slowly through his mouth as the pain continued to shoot throughout his body. “Mmmhmmm. I’m gonna get you back for that one, Lewis.”

“Bring it, Professor.”

Training Log
Meeting Date / Time: 10/8/19 15:30
Location: Training Room E

Trainer: Clint Barton
Trainee: Darcy Lewis
Type of Training: Basic Self-defense
Total Time Training: 2 hours 15 minutes
Focus: Physical Assessment

Little to no combat training or self-defense
No physical defect
Potential for improvement

Personal Remarks
Physicality: Lewis has little to no combat training or self-defense knowledge. Her particular circ*mstances make training more difficult, as she will need to be untrained then retrained in a style that works for her size and stature. Further lessons will establish a baseline for fitness and increase at a steady pace. Endgame unclear at this time.
Mental Stability: If Lewis is able to harness the powers she has been shown to possess, further training with someone of like-powered status should be explored. Currently Lew has no desire to use her powers, for any reason. Pushing too quickly may cause her to shut down completely and care should be given to her hesitance.
Recommendations: Continue bi-weekly sessions, focusing on building endurance as well as perfecting fight style for her body and abilities.

Chapter 14: Almost

Chapter Text

Jane frowned, tongue licking the bit of ice cream still on her spoon. “They shouldn’t have sprung it on you like that.”

Darcy nodded, biting into another gummy worm as her and Jane watched House Hunters and ate a ridiculous amount of calories. Calories don’t count when you’ve been betrayed by supposed friends. “Oh, I made Banner well aware of the calculated risk they took, because damn were they bad at that math. Telling him that I could have killed two people on their watch seemed to shake his ass awake so he could grasp the reality of the situation.”

Jane’s brown eyes slid over to peer at Darcy, watching as her best friend rolled her eyes. She could tell Darcy was pissed, and once again Jane felt a stab of guilt that she hadn’t been around to comfort her sooner. “You yelled at him during your last session?”

Darcy shook her head, taking another aggressive bite of candy. “No. Found him in the hall. I’m not really… I think I’ve gotten everything I can out of him, training wise. I’ll be fine.” When she saw Jane cast a look her way, Darcy frowned. “What?” Jane shrugged her shoulders and took another bite of ice cream, avoiding Darcy’s eyes. “Oh no, you don’t just shrug like that and say nothing. If you have something to say, then say it.”

“You’re not going to like it.” Jane shook her head, knowing how close that fine tremor of anger was below Darcy’s skin, ready to explode at any moment. It felt almost like a bomb about to go off, and Jane worried that her opinion might detonate it. She wanted to be here for Darcy, but the logical, rational parts of Jane knew how fraught the situation was, and how tenuous Darcy’s grasp on her powers was.

Darcy knew for a fact that Jane had something contrary to say, could see it in the little crease between her eyebrows as her mind worked. She knew Jane well enough to know when her friend was about to say something that wouldn’t make her jump for joy. “Jane Elizabeth Foster, I’m really not in the mood fo -”

“I don’t think you’re fine,” Jane said finally, her voice soft but fierce. “I think you need to keep working with Bruce, whether it’s awkward or not. You can’t control this on your own, and it’s not because I think you’re weak, it’s because this is so massive that you need all the help you can get. What they did was wrong, but I understand why they did it, however short-sighted.”

A flash of anger bubbled in Darcy’s chest, disbelief in her tone as the volume of her voice rose. “How can you say that? I could have killed those men!”

“Exactly!” Jane set her ice cream down on the coffee table and turned to look at Darcy, seriousness in the whiskey of her eyes. “What would you have done if that wasn’t some kind of simulation, if it had happened in the real world? What if you did hurt someone because you didn’t know the full extent of your abilities?”

The anger shifted to hurt and Darcy’s eyes darted away, unable to look at Jane, glaring at a spot in her carpet. “So you think I should just stay here? Be a prisoner? Never go outside again and live out my days in this room?”

“Of course not,” Jane said, frowning. “I think you should train with Bruce, and anyone else who can help you control this, who can help you learn what you can do!. Look, Darcy, I know it’s scary and you have a good reason to be frightened, but if you don’t know what you can do, how can you be sure, how can you be certain you won’t hurt anyone? I know it terrifies you, but that’s how the training with help. The more you try, the more find out what other powers you have, the more you experiment -”

Darcy climbed off her bed, righteous fire building in her belly, that word making her blank until there was nothing but pain. She spun back toward Jane, waving her arms dramatically in the air toward her best friend. “And there is it! Jane Foster, astrophysicist, willing to experiment on her best friend if the science is good enough!”

Jane flinched back, frowning. “That’s unfair, and you know it.”

“Is it? Because all I know is that I’m terrified of what might happen, and everyone seems hell bent on pushing me toward something I don’t want to do!” Darcy paced across the floor, ignoring the glare Jane was shooting her way.

“What do you want, Darcy?”

Darcy turned to Jane with an incredulous expression on her face. “What do I want?”

“Yes, Darcy, what do you want?”

Darcy’s eyes widened as she looked at Jane, absolute fire in her eyes. “What… I want… f*ck!” Her arm gestured toward her door, and the room that was across the hall from hers .”I want to kiss Bucky! I want Steve’s eyes to fill with love when they look at me like mine do when I look at him! I want everything to work out perfectly so we can all be happy!”

She pressed a finger to her temple. “I want to stop hearing the stone talk to me and whisper the terrible things it wants me to do! I don’t want to be able to do anything else, I don’t want any more powers! I want to have friends that don’t lie to me, don’t use me, and aren’t afraid of me!”

Hands clenching and unclenching at her sides, Darcy could feel her anger fading, being replaced with sadness and guilt. “I want to have a normal life. Can’t I have that? Just something normal?”

There was empathy in Jane’s eyes, and Darcy couldn’t explain why, but it was breaking her heart and stealing the air from her lungs. Her voice was so small, nothing more than a whisper, “... I don’t want to hurt anyone else.”

Jane slid off the bed, watching as Darcy’s eyes closed and she turned her face toward the ceiling, lower lip trembling as the first tears started to roll down her cheeks. “I know, Darce.”

“And I want to stop crying about every god damn thing! It’s like since Bucky never cries, I’ve become some f*cking fountain that goes off every hour! f*ck!”

When Jane’s arms wrapped around her shoulders, Darcy pressed her face into her friend’s neck, the tears hot and angry. She’d heard of a study that said tears could be different, depending on the emotion causing them. If that was the case, hers were probably filled with the glass of broken dreams and the reality that ‘normal’ was something she’d never know again.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s fine, Darce. I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”

Darcy shook her head against Jane, squeezing her arms around the scientist. “Your life shouldn’t suck just because parts of mine are sh*tty.” She sniffled, resting her cheek on Jane’s shoulder, taking comfort from her friend, trying to slow the torrent of tears. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, Janey. I’ve just been ignoring how f*cked everything is and then you’re here and I’m bitching and something sets me off… I’m sorry.”

Rubbing circles on Darcy’s back, Jane pressed a kiss to her temple. “I know you’re scared. The things you can do… I can’t even begin to wrap my mind around it.”

Darcy snorted, pulling back and rubbing at her cheeks. “You? The most brilliant mind in astrophysics, second only to Neil deGrasse Tyson?” She laughed softly at the look Jane gave her. “What hope do I have if you can’t understand it?”

“I’m definitely not the leading expert on superhero powers,” she watched Darcy’s nose crinkle at the word superhero being used to describe her, “but luckily there are people here that are a lot smarter than me.”

“But only a little smarter.”

“Yeah, by like this much,” Jane said, holding her fingers centimeters apart, glad when Darcy laughed. Her face sobered a bit as she placed both hands on Darcy’s shoulders. “I know that you’re scared of what you can do, but wouldn’t it better to know? That way you could be sure nothing comes as a surprise?”

Darcy rubbed the soft cotton of her shirt sleeve over her eyes again as she pulled out of Jane’s arms. “What if I steal someone else’s soul?”

“Technically you didn’t steal someone’s soul. You gave someone part of yours and they returned the favor. Hey, don’t give me that face, I know for a fact Bucky would agree with me.”

Darcy shifted from one foot to another. “You talked to Bucky?”

“We’ve had words, yes. Maybe a couple of lunches together.”

If Darcy wasn’t already crying, she’d have started again at the idea of Bucky and Jane forming a friendship of their own. “I could still hurt someone,” she said, heavy, wet eyelashes brushing her cheeks.

“Maybe Thor knows of a way to keep you from doing that, maybe someone in Asgard that could help. I don’t know when he’ll be back next, but when he is, it couldn't hurt to ask.” Jane watched some of the light return to Darcy’s eyes at the mention of the realm she’d had yet to visit.

“Are you suggesting a field trip, Ms. Frizzle?”

Jane rolled her eyes, used to Darcy comparing her to the cartoon teacher. “I’m suggesting that instead of ignoring the power that you have that you embrace it, learn about it, work with it a little at a time. If you’re prepared, and careful, maybe the stone won’t have as much sway over you. What did you do at the mall to keep from going to the dark side?”

Appreciating Jane’s use of Star Wars terminology, Darcy shrugged her shoulders. “A mantra. Something that Bucky and Steve say to each other. I’ve even stole that from them. f*ck, I’m a horrible person.”

Jane glared softly, pulling Darcy back toward the couch. “You’re not a horrible person, Darcy, and like I said, I don’t think either of them would agree that you stole anything from them. But speaking of them, things are going better, right?”

Darcy had never been in love with her friend more than right then, as she steered the conversation away from the terrifying powers Darcy held inside of her (and the friends who’d lied and put her and everyone else in danger), and toward Steve and Bucky.

“It’s getting… better. Steve doesn’t seem to hold any resentment toward me. We’ve been together, the three of us, for a bit now. Movies. Dinner. Talking. Holding hands. But it’s..” Darcy’s hand gestured in the air, “...complicated.”

Jane reached up to push a wild curl behind Darcy’s ear, unsurprised when it popped right back out. “It’s only really complicated on his side, isn’t it? You love Bucky. Bucky loves you. Bucky loves Steve. Steve loves Bucky. You love Steve. And Steve’s -“

“f*cking gorgeous, and genuine, and funny, and he makes my insides feel like jelly and my knees weak.” Darcy smiled, thinking about the soldier’s cornflower gaze, stunning when he smiled, even brighter when he laughed.

Reaching for her ice cream again, Jane dug the spoon into it. “Maybe that’s what you tell him. You tell Steve exactly how you feel and see what happens.”

“That sounds an awful lot like something that begins with an ‘E’ that we probably shouldn’t use anymore because I have a lifetime of memories that associate the word with nothing but pain and suffering.”

Jane shrugged, sticking the spoon inside her mouth, tongue swirling. “Some experiments are good. Especially ones in college.”

Darcy’s eyes widened, shaking her head at her best friend when she saw no hint that Jane’d meant the double entendre. “I think my idea of college experimentation and your idea of college experimentation are two vastly different things.”

“Mona, are you trying to make me fall in love with you? If so, it’s working,” Darcy sing-songed the last word as the cashier laughed, waving her through the line. The more time Darcy spent with people, the more she was able to relax.

Her conversation with Jane a few nights previous had lifted a bit of weight off her shoulders. The ever-looming ‘what if you hurt someone?’ was easier to accept when she was going to do something about it. Her best friend had been right to push her, she got that now. Darcy realized she’d let her fear dictate how she acted, and that was something she refused to do any longer. She had no idea how she would figure it out, but luckily there were people higher up than her that she could ask for assistance, no matter how awkward it became.

“Miss Lewis!”

Darcy’s eyebrows sprung up toward her hairline at the voice behind her, turning slowly on her heel to look at the familiar man. “iPod thief! I promise, I have no tech of any kind on me right now. Nothing for you to steal, cross my heart.”

Phil Coulson gave her a small smile, his suit just as pressed and black as she remembered it. “I’ve gotta admit, I’m surprised to see you here.”

“Yeah,” Darcy said with a snort, “I grabbed a soul stone and can kill people with my brain now. You?”

“Died, got brought back, lived in a virtual world for a while. It’s been a weird couple of years.”

“Mmm,” Darcy hummed, nodding at him with a grin on her face, “you don’t have to tell me. Elves in London was pretty neat.”

“I’d love to hear that story sometime. Right now, I’ve been asked to bring you to the director.”

Darcy frowned. “I thought this ship was kind of rudderless. Too many cooks in the kitchen and what not. Division of powers, checks and balances, that kind of thing.”

Phil smiled, gesturing with his arm. Darcy set her tray on a table, tucking the water into her armpit and holding the basket of fries in her hands. She offered some to Phil, but he shook his head politely. “Have to be on a plane in twenty, don’t want it sitting like a lead weight.”

“Ugh. I hate flying.”

As he led her toward whatever part of the compound the director worked from, she stuffed some fries in her mouth. “So. This director, have I met him?”

“Her, actually.”

“Oh! Progressive! I approve! ‘Bout time there were some ladies leading the world.”

Coulson looked over at her with a small smile, “you’ve obviously never met Pepper Potts. She’s been running things for years.” He wasn’t sure why, but he watched Darcy’s gaze darken at the mention of Tony Stark’s fiance, ultimately deciding it wasn’t his place to question..

“Director is kind of a relative term. She’s the one who we feed to the press, the figurehead, if you will. The structure of the Avengers had to change with the Accords. Ever since Stark’s amendments went through, things have been better, but the governments of the world still want someone to point to and blame when things go wrong.”

Darcy nodded, shrugging her shoulders. “Makes sense. If it’s one thing people like, it’s blaming it on someone else.” She let Phil open doors for her, not because of chivalry (pfft), but because it allowed her to eat as they walked. “Should I be afraid for this meeting?”

“I think it’s more of a meet and greet than anything. Putting in the facetime so she can say she did. I wouldn’t be too worried about it. Hill’s good people. Fair. Exacting.”

Darcy gave Phil a pretty epic side eyeing. “Wasn’t that your job for a while? She outrank you or something?”

“I love my team, wanted to spend more time with them, less time on the bureaucracy.”

“Politics were never my favorite thing either.”

Phil matched her side-eyeing with some of his own. “Wasn’t your degree in political science?”

“Let’s not get caught up in on the details, Coulson.”

“Fair enough.”

Over the course of their journey, Darcy had tried to keep track of all the twists and turns they’d taken. It was impossible, however, and she wondered if it was by design. It’d be pretty hard to get to the director when you weren’t exactly sure how to get to their office. Of course, when Darcy blinked and darkness took her vision, she was able to find her way pretty easily.

“By the way, I feel like I should say thank you.”

Blinking away the colors, Darcy turned to look at Phil with a raised eyebrow. “For what?”

“World saving. It takes a bunch out of you. When you see it happen as much as I do, you get pretty good at recognizing how close armageddon is. We’d been pretty close. So, thank you.”

Rolling her eyes, Darcy threw the empty fry container in a garbage can as they passed. “I’m still dealing with the aftermath of that whole debacle. But, you’re welcome, I guess.” When she bowed slightly, she heard a soft chuckle from the man at the side, a grin turning her lips upward. “She through there?” she asked, pointing to a door down and on the right.

“Yeah. Have you been -”

“No. Never been here before.”

“Is it the eye thing?”

Darcy nodded, brushing her hands on her jeans. “Yep. Like color GPS.”

“That could come in handy in combat situations.”

“Does it look like I’m combat ready?” She looked down at her artfully torn jeans and sweatshirt with a hole near the collar. “In even the slightest way?”

“Never judge a book by its cover, Ms. Lewis. This?” He rose his arm. “Fake hand.”

“No sh*t!”

“She’ll be waiting for you. You have a good day, Lewis.”

“You too, son of Coul.”

When Phil headed back toward the main part of the compound, Darcy turned and looked at the door to her right. Like all the other offices, the director’s office was nondescript. If what Coulson had said was true, the director probably didn’t spend a lot of time in the office anyway, off dealing with politicians and other country’s governments. Probably sh*t pay and very little personal time.

f*ck that noise.

Sighing, Darcy’s knuckles rapped heavily on the door, hearing a muffled ‘come in’ from the other side. She pushed inside, taking in the simple decor and natural light streaming in the windows. Darcy was positive they were in the interior of the building, yet the sun shone in where there was a solid wall. Neat.

Maria Hill was not as Darcy’d pictured in her head. She was younger, firstly, and secondly she had a fairly bright smile, as well as a charismatic attitude. “Ms. Lewis! I’m glad Coulson was able to track you down.”

“Oh, me and Phil? We go way back.”

“To New Mexico, yeah. I read that in your file.” Maria gestured to one of the seats before her desk, rounding it so she could lean against the gleaming mahogany as Darcy sat. “I’m sorry I haven’t gotten to touch base with you since you arrived. I’ve been waist deep in a domestic and foreign nightmare, picking up the pieces after everything with Thanos.”

Darcy watched the smartly dressed woman cross her arms over her chest, her feet at the ankles, the very picture of cool, calm, and relaxed. It was interesting, then, that Darcy could see the anxiety surrounding Maria Hill in waves of colors when she blinked. “I get it. I didn’t even know you existed until Phil said so a few minutes ago, so I hadn’t known to feel ignored. Guess that was good for both of us.”

Maria nodded, head co*cking to the side as she took in the younger woman. “I’ve spoken with Banner and Stark about their reports. Some of your abilities are nominal. A walking lie detector is pretty innocuous. Cool, but nothing to write home about. What happened with Barnes and during the Op at the mall? Those are different stories.”

Bristling at the mention of the mall, Darcy shifted in her chair, darkness coloring her eyes. “I didn’t mean to do anything I did with Bucky. It was -”

“Like I’ve said, I read the reports. What concerns me the most is the potential for public harm. Don’t know if you’ve listened to the news for past five years, but we tend to be knocked around pretty heavily for collateral damage. And we should be. Our number one duty is to protect the people on this planet from anything that might hurt them, and sometimes that means from people within our ranks.”

The frown on Darcy’s face grew deeper. “You think I’m dangerous?”

“Would that be wrong of me to assume?”

Sighing, Darcy shook her head. “No. But I’m willing to do anything to not hurt people, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m going to talk to Banner about what the next step would be, see if we can figure out what the hell I can do and make it so I can control it.”

Maria pushed off the desk, hands pulling a manilla envelope closer to her, opening it. “I think that’d be a good idea. When Stark approached me about approving your leave, he pushed back against the Op, but eventually he understood that we needed some sort of safeguard. It’s kind of hard to argue to the committee when you don’t have proof of purchase, so to speak. After the footage was shown, it was pretty clear that with a bit more training you’ll be no more a risk than Wanda Maximoff, or The Vision, or -”

Darcy blinked repeatedly at Hill before holding up her hands to stop the woman’s words. She felt like the air was being forced of her lungs with each sound from Hill’s mouth, and she was still trying to wrap her head around the information she’d just been given. “Wait, wait, back up. The mall wasn’t Tony’s idea?”

“Stark said you’d asked if you could get approved to go offsite, pick up a few things, possibly get unrestricted leave.” Maria closed the file, trying to understand the look crossing Darcy’s face. “When I told him we’d need a test of your control, he didn’t like the idea of a blind Op, he wanted to let you in on it. When I explained that’d skew the results too much, he finally saw reason and eventually agreed, as long as he was there with you. We needed to see what you’d do in a real life or death situation. And, just as Stark promised, you showed ample control. Banner said you hadn’t even known you possessed that ability before using it. If that was the first time you used it, you did it admirably. It opens the door to a lot of possible uses, including....”

She could see Maria’s mouth moving, knew what the director was saying was probably pretty important, but Darcy had stopped listening when it’d become clear that the incident at the mall, in all its terrifying glory, hadn’t been Tony’s idea.

Tony’d argued against it.

Tony’d said she’d be fine.

Tony’d promised the director of the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. that she could be trusted.

“I’m sorry,” Darcy said, hazel eyes darting up to look at a slightly exasperated Maria Hill, still reeling from the knowledge. “You were saying?”

“Barton’s suggested you have at least two combat training sessions a week. I’d like you to do the same with Banner, just to keep up with that part of everything. And, as soon as Wilson and Maximoff return from Wakanda, we’ll see if she’s able to help you with the more… metaphysical aspects of your abilities. As long as we keep the lines of communications open between us, I think you’d be a valuable asset to the Avengers.”

Darcy’s eyebrows rose in shock, eyes blinking rapidly. “I’m sorry, huh?”

“The Avengers. I know you’re not trained now, but if we can fix that, if we can get you full control over your powers? Just imagine the possibilities.”

Lady, be glad I don’t have full control of these powers, or I’d turn you into f*cking pâté Pretty sure that threatening the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. would be a bad thing, Darcy just nodded her head and hummed a response, pursing her lips as Maria smiled down at her.

“Perfect. I’ll be getting updates on your progress. If you have any questions, just let me know.”

That sounded like a dismissal if she’d ever heard one, and Darcy was more than happy to flee from the director’s office, wanting to put as much space between herself and the f*cker who’d thought it best to throw her in the deep end when she didn’t know how to swim.

Tony wasn’t an ass. Well, he was most assuredly an asshole, but not because he’d plotted an event that’d almost killed two men and resulted in her giving into the stone’s sinister whispers. What had the director said to make him agree to it? That this was normal operating procedure within the semi-evil nazi-historied branch of para-military and they needed to get on board or get out?

Darcy’d never instantly hated anyone, but damn was Maria Hill making her blood boil. Not only had she been blindsided, she’d been blaming the wrong people. Okay, no, she could still be angry at Tony, Bruce and Natasha. Even if they’d been told not to tell her, they still could have. They could have warned her. Why didn’t they warn me?

She scowled. The director of the Avengers thought she’d make a good asset to the team. She’d make a good asset to the team. She’d make a good asset to the team. She’d make a good asset to the team.

“f*ck. That,” Darcy growled under her breath as she all but ran from the room. She blinked, looking for the black inky oil slick and silver, feet carrying her toward wherever Tony was hiding.

“Stark!”

Tony’s shoulders lifted and fell with a sigh. “If I could go one day without someone yelling my name loud enough for it to echo off the walls, I’d die a happy man.” Turning on his heel, Tony watched Darcy stalk toward him. “Look, Lewis, I don’t -”

Darcy was unperturbed by the look of exasperation on his face, the carefully guarded look in his eyes not fooling her for a second. “Shut the f*ck up, will you? I’m trying to apologize.”

His gaze pinned her as she came to stand in front of him in the hallway, hands digging to rest in the pockets of his slacks. “And you start that apology with ‘shut the f*ck up’? Not the most inviting of phrases.”

“Really?” Darcy ignored the other people in the hallway, uncaring that they glared at having to move around her and Tony. “You hear I’m trying to apologize and you decide that’s the best time to test me?”

“Pretty sure we established your rules when it comes to tests, and if I remember correctly, I failed pretty spectacularly.”

Darcy peered into his eyes as he looked at her through tinted lenses, trying his best not to give away any true emotion. A mask of sarcasm. Unfortunately for him, she had one just like it. “Yeah, too bad you didn’t let me know you were cheating.” She watched the side of his mouth twist up in confusion. “That you’d written the answers on your arm?”

“I think we’re done with the test metaphor, princess. How about you get to the point?”

“f*ck, you are an asshole.”

“Anyone ever tell you that you suck at apologizing?”

“I don’t do it very often, so I’m a little rusty. Will you just shut your damn mouth and let me get this out?” When Tony looked at her expectantly, Darcy’s hands started gesturing in his direction. “Hill told me you disagreed with what went down at the mall. I thought you were the one that set it up. That hurt, and I lashed out at you. Why didn’t you just say that it wasn’t you?”

“Would you have believed me? I agreed to it in the long run. I should have told you, but I didn’t, and that’s on me. Besides, if I recall correctly, my jaw was a little sore from the heavy fisticuffs you threw my way. Impressive punch, by the way, but you -”

“Tony, I swear to the goblin king, if you tell me I punched like I was Bucky’s size and not my own, I will burn everything you love with fire.”

The look on Tony’s face was confirmation that those were the very words he’d been about to say, a small smirk twisting his face as he looked at her. “Look, I would love to let you continue threatening me so colorfully, but I’ve got a meeting thing and I’m late.”

“I’ll walk with you then,” Darcy said, ignoring the face he made at her. She wasn’t done talking at him yet, and she wanted to get it all out at once. When he sighed and swept his arm for him to join him, she fell into step at his side. “Next time, just f*cking tell me, okay? If someone wants to throw something heavy at me, give me a heads up. Next time I might not be able to keep from destroying the whole galaxy.”

“That’s a bit melodramatic, don’t you think?”

“Actually, no, I think that is the exact amount of drama that should be expected. Maybe, in the future, we don’t anger the person who has the abilities to destroy souls.”

“Noted,” Tony said as they walked, glancing at her with a small grin. “Well, you’ve got the all clear, now, in any case. Worth it?”

“f*ck no. I’ve been pissed off for days, most of it toward you, and I know that Bucky’s memories have something to do with that, but… I think I was hurt because I thought perhaps, maybe, in a weird way, unexplainable by any stretch of science or logic, that we were becoming something like friends.”

He hummed, eyes darting to look at her. “You think so?”

“Obviously it’s a mistake on my part, but I think, somehow, you make things a little less scary for me. Mostly because if a horrible f*ck-up like you can become a well-rounded and profitable part of society, maybe there’s hope for me, too.”

Tony glanced in her direction as they walked, a single eyebrow raising. “And how are you planning on becoming a societal contributor?”

Darcy frowned, thinking critically about her answer. She’d been so dead-set on finding Tony and apologizing that she’d pushed everything else Maria Hill had said to the back of her mind. She didn’t want to come close to thinking about being on a ‘team’ of any kind, let alone on the f*cking Avengers, which meant she only have a few paths to take in order to feel semi-useful.

“I’m not sure yet? I’ve never really had an adult job, other than following Jane and Erik around, which was mostly me making sure they ate and that their data was sorted and cataloged appropriately.”

“So you’re looking for a job? Is this a shake down? Are you blackmailing me into hiring you?”

The noise of offense that broke free from Darcy made Tony smirk. “You’re a dick. No, I’m not blackmailing you. I mean, not really. I just know that I need to start figuring all of this sh*t out,” she gestured absently toward herself, “and sitting in my room for hours on end while everyone else is actually doing something is boring as hell. I need something to do. Let me do something. In your lab. You f*cking owe me this, Stark.”

“You’re not touching my tech.”

Darcy rolled her eyes as they pushed through a set of double doors. “No, not the tech, but I’m an A-plus lab monkey. Ask Janey. There’s gotta be something I can do for you until I figure out something else.”

“I’ve already got an intern -”

“No. Nope, uh-huh,” Darcy said, shaking her head emphatically, “not an intern. Something better. Like an… executive assistant.”

“I’ve got Friday for that.”

“f*cking hell, Tony, just let me do something! I run errands like a pro. I’ve got mad typing skills, I can work an espresso machine and I’m not afraid to call you on your sh*t if the need arises.”

Darcy could see the begrudging acceptance building behind his eyes and tried her best not to reach out and shake his shoulders to just give in already.

Finally, Tony ran a hand over his face, stopping in front of another set of double-doors. When Darcy came to stand before him, his eyes rolled up toward the ceiling, closing. It looked like he was asking some deity for guidance, but when his brown gaze pinned her, Darcy could already see on his face that she’d won.

“We still need to work with your abilities.”

She nodded at him. “Definitely. Need to find out what other super special surprises are inside of me.”

“Phrasing.” Darcy sighed and rolled her eyes dramatically, but he continued. “We need to step up the experimenting, push the boundaries so we know what we’re working with. We’ll put better safeguards in place, maybe design some kind of device that can lessen the effects, make them less world-ending.”

“Absolutely. Whatever you say, as long as we’re one-hundred-percent honest with each other from here on out. Like, stupid honest with each other.”

She was just waiting for the inevitable words to leave his mouth, could see defeat in his eyes as he glared softly at her. Darcy gave him an encouraging smile, unable to help the grin widening when he heaved a large sigh.

“Fine.” Tony shook his head when her arm rose in the air and pumped back toward her body, the hiss of ‘yessss’ filling the space between them. “Look, I’ve got someone I want you to meet. Parker and I are going to be working together on a few things and I think he could use a softer touch than mine.”

“Ew,” Darcy grimaced.

“Shut up. If he’s fine working with you, then we’ll figure something out. Just… don’t freak out.”

“Freak out? What do you mean?”

As Tony pushed past the double doors, Darcy followed him. She recognized the room as some kind of lab, but it was a different one than she’d been in before. It made sense that he’d have more than one, but everything in here looked pretty new. Pristine. She took in the tech sprinkled throughout the space, the mass of paperwork that was strewn on every available surface, empty red bull cans piling in the garbage cans.

“Mr. Stark! I finally got my badge and…” Peter trailed off, eyes widening as they landed on Tony and Darcy. “Oh, hi, I didn’t, I mean, I didn’t know we had company. Guests. Hi.”

Darcy blinked at the kid that had turned to look at them. He was tiny, his face too innocent, the pink that blushed to his cheeks too endearingly adorable. The way he moved made it pretty clear who’d consumed the energy drinks. She turned to look at Stark with an amused expression turning her lips. “Your comment about him needing a softer touch is way more creepy now that I know he’s a preteen,”

“I’m not a preteen. I’m... a late teen.”

Tony rolled his eyes at the verbal cartwheeling his protege was attempting. “Peter Parker, this is Darcy Lewis, potential executive assistant. Darcy Lewis, this is Peter Parker. Peter is a recent graduate of the illustrious Midtown School of Science and Technology. I’ve been working with him for… three years now?”

Peter nodded, stepping closer to the two of them, grimacing when he kicked an empty can and sent it skittering across the floor. “Mm, yeah, three-ish years.”

Tony grabbed one of the papers on the nearest table, squinting at the scribbles Peter had written. “Oh!” he said, turning toward Darcy, nodding his head in Peter’s direction, “he’s also known as Spider-man.”

Darcy’s jaw dropped as her gaze swung back to look at Peter. “No f*cking way!”

There was no way this kid was a superhero. He looked like she could rip him in two. Bucky’s memories flowed to the surface, finally able to put a face to the spandex suit he’d met in Berlin. She turned to glare at Tony. “You mean to tell me that you brought him into that fight at the airport when he was fifteen?”

“In my defense, he was only there to assist and was told to stay out of the main fight. Besides, no one there was going to kill anyone. It was a… family squabble.”

“You’re full of sh*t, Stark.” Darcy’s scowl lessened when Peter laughed, attempting to cover the sound with a cough when Tony’s gaze swung toward him. “So you’re Spiderman? That’s rad.”

“Yeah? I mean, yeah. Yes, I’m Spiderman.” He took a step closer to her, chin ducking slightly in embarrassment. “You’ve seen my videos on youtube?”

“Well, that and the news. I hear you’re kind of a big deal in Queens.”

Tony’s gaze lingered on Peter as the younger man fidgeted, grinning sheepishly at Darcy. Peter tore his eyes away from Darcy to look at Tony, who glared in his direction. “Uh, yeah. I try not to just help in Queens, but it’s home, you know?”

“Not anymore, kid,” Tony said with a wave of his arm, “welcome home.”

Darcy’s grin was large. “Oh, sweet. We’re neighbors. If you ever need a cup of sugar, feel free to come and get it from me.”

Peter’s eyes widened slightly, cheeks flaming at her double entendre. He cleared his throat, pointing over his shoulder. “So, you’re going to be an assistant? That’s awesome. I mean, it’ll be nice to have someone else in here with me. Other than Tony. Not that Tony’s not, he’s great, obviously, but someone different. I’m actually working on this thing over here...“

Darcy’s grin kept getting bigger as Peter turned his back and started talking about one of the machines and how he’d always wanted run his webbing through a quantum analyzer and see if he could increase the tensile strength by utilizing magnetic resonance.

He was an adorable little science monkey; just like a tiny Jane, but with boy parts.

Peter was babbling and kept sneaking glances in her direction, none of it going unnoticed, and all of it filling Darcy’s eyes with delight. When Tony glared at her over the top of his glasses, she couldn’t help the shrug of her shoulders and the smirk on her face. It’s not like she was doing anything wrong. He was eighteen, after all. Besides, she had her hands very full with Bucky and Steve, thank you very much. Flirting with the kid to see how many colors he could change would just be good-natured fun.

“As your first assistant duty, why don’t you show Peter around the compound? Maybe you can explain your kaleidoscope eyes to him and see what he has to say.”

“Kaleidoscope, what? You have, uh, kaleidoscope eyes?”

Darcy gestured at Peter, wrapping her arm through his as she waved over their shoulders at Tony. “You see, Pete, It all started with this stone…”

“So I spoke to the Director today. It’d be bad for me to murder her, right? Right. But f*ck do I want to murder her with my mind. Hold on, I gotta pee.”

Bucky stayed at the open door to their room, eyes wide as Darcy darted past him and into the bathroom. Sitting on the bed, sketchpad on his lap, Steve wore the same expression.

“Did she -”

“Say she wants to murder the director of the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D.? Yeah. If Stark has Friday monitoring us for trigger words, they could storm in any second. I know I can break through the wall in the bathroom into the next suite over. Then it’s just two doors and we’re clear of the compound. I have a bag in the forest ready. Passports. Currency. Everything we’d need for at least two weeks.”

Steve chuckled, the sound fading as he realized his lover was serious. “Wait, really?”

“I always have a backup plan,” Bucky said with a shrug. He’d never been comfortable trusting anyone but himself and Steve, and now Darcy. He’d been half joking about Friday listening and monitoring their conversations, but Bucky was deadly serious about the contingencies he’d put in place, just in case.

“I don’t think that’s -”

“Seriously, this Maria Hill. We hate her right? We should hate her.” Darcy looked back and forth between Bucky and Steve, unable to understand their faces. “What?”

“What happened? From the beginning, please,” Bucky said, crossing the floor and taking a seat beside Steve on the bed.

Sighing, Darcy climbed onto their bed, folding her legs under herself as her hands started to gesture wildly. “Coulson came and got me in the cafeteria, said the director wanted to see me, so we went to her office. And we met. And I hate her.”

The frown on Steve’s face was soft, not understanding what Maria could have said to Darcy to make her have such a vitriolic opinion. Unless… Realization dawned on him and he sat back against the headboard with a small nod. “Oh.”

Both Darcy and Bucky turned toward him, the confused expressions on their faces looking eerily similar. “What do you mean ‘oh’?”

“What he said,” Darcy said, hesitance in her voice. His eyes flicked up to look at her and she could see it in his brilliant blue gaze, the knowledge that she didn’t have to explain because he already knew. Her eyebrows rose when she understood, unable to keep the hurt from her tone as her shoulders hunched. “Why...?”

Guilt flashed through Steve’s chest as he looked at her and the pain her hazel eyes. “Darcy -”

“Someone explain what the f*ck is going on,” Bucky said, stormy gaze flicking back and forth between them. “Now.”

When Darcy looked at him with a hint of expectation, Steve set his sketchpad aside and sighed regretfully. “After Darcy got back from the mall, I went and confronted Tony. You’d both been so certain that he was the one behind what had happened and I went to find out what he had to say to himself.”

Darcy shifted on the bed, shoulders lifting and falling with a silent exhale of breath. Bucky could practically feel the weight of the air in the room and he made the hair on his arms itch, still not understanding why Darcy looked so hurt and why Steve looked so guilty. “I know that part.”

Steve sighed, lips turning down into a frown as he continued. “When I get there, Tony said that what happened at the mall wasn’t his call. Hill was the one who pushed it.”

The look on Bucky’s face was incredulous, like Steve was gullible for believing anything Tony said, but Darcy’s voice cut him off. “It’s true,” she said, keeping her eyes on Bucky because she couldn’t look at Steve, not yet. “Hill told me herself. Tony didn’t want to do it like it went down, but she convinced him. He agreed, as long as he could be there with me.”

The frown on Bucky’s face darkened. “Then why -”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Darcy did look up at Steve then, voice soft, trying to keep the hurt from spilling into tears down her cheeks.

Steve sat forward, hating the crushed look in her eyes, feeling the weight of regret pressing down on him. “Tony asked me not to, he said he didn’t want you to think the chain of command was the problem. But I was going to tell you, Darcy, I was, but you were so upset, and fragile, and every time I thought about telling you seemed like the wrong time.”

Bucky shook his head, seeing the heartache on Darcy’s face and the contrition on Steve’s. “She doesn’t need you to decide what she can and can’t handle, Steve,” he said, reaching out to squeeze Darcy’s knee,.

Darcy tore her gaze from Steve and looked down at Bucky’s hand. He was trying to be comforting, but her sadness at Steve not telling her was replaced with annoyance. Steve had kept something from her in some kind of noble omission, thinking that she was too delicate to handle the truth, and now Bucky was treating her with kid gloves as if she’d break apart. She glommed onto the annoyance, letting go of the hurt and anger. Annoyance could be dealt with swifter and easier. Pick your battles, Lewis.

“I don’t need either of you to coddle me.” When both Bucky and Steve opened their mouths, Darcy held both of her hands in the air. “Nope. I’m going to talk, and you’re going to listen, okay?” Much to her surprise, neither of them argued or spoke, and she took a deep breath.

“I understand that I have made it very clear how scared I am of what I can do, and I love that you’re concerned, but the only one who knows that’s best for me is me. So if there are facts that you are keeping from me? Don’t. It’s been brought to my attention that I like to avoid things because they’re hard or scary, but I’m trying not to do that anymore. So both of you, please, be honest with me, okay? If you have some information that I need to know, just tell me, regardless of how you think I’ll take it, and I promise I’ll do the same for you. Yeah? Are we good?”

When they both nodded at her, she let out a sigh, bravado waning a bit. “Good.” There was a moment of anxious silence before Darcy’s lips turned up in a wry grin. “Wait, did that count as our first fight? Look at us! Being all adult and sh*t. First one’s out of the way.”

“The first of many,” Bucky said, smirking at the snort of agreement Darcy made.

“I am sorry, Darcy,” Steve said, gaze flicking up to catch Darcy’s eyes, a small apologetic smile on his face, “I should have told you.”

He was angry at himself, angry that he hadn’t learned his lesson after everything that had happened with Tony and the Winter Soldier. Steve had never enjoyed giving bad news to people; sure, telling Darcy that Tony hadn’t been the one who’d planned the mall fiasco wasn’t really bad news, but Darcy realizing that the approval had come all the way from the very top of the organization wasn’t ideal, either.

Darcy sighed, seeing the truthful regret in Steve’s eyes. “It’s okay. You didn’t tell me, and Bucky fed into my assumptions about Tony.” When Bucky glared her in direction, Darcy pinned him with A Look. “You mean to tell me that your open hostility for each other doesn’t color some of my thoughts about Tony? Please. What’d we just agree we’d be? Huh? Say it with me now: honest. That’s right! Honesty.”

“Technically, he’s the one who has a problem with me -”

“Well, you both need to knock that sh*t out quickly because I don’t have waders tall enough to sludge through all that bullsh*t.” She ignored the eyeroll from Bucky, laying herself across their bed, head cradled in her hand. “So, yeah, Hill? Not my favorite person. But you know who is my new favorite person, besides you two?”

Darcy didn’t miss the look them both sent her way, the corner of her mouth lifting up as she continued. “Peter Parker. Who I will be working with. Him and Tony. Oh yeah! By the way, I am now Tony’s executive assistant.” At their dumbfounded looks, she shrugged one shoulder. “It’s been a busy day.”

Chapter 15: In My Veins

Chapter Text

Bucky watched Darcy pace the floor at the end of his bed, head shaking as she went from one end of the room to the other. His grey eyes tracked her movements, taking note of the pink coloring high in her cheeks with anger.

“You’re out of your god damned mind!” Darcy’s gaze flicked to him for a split second before she had to look away. It was taking everything in her not to start screaming in his direction. How had this gone so pear-shaped so quickly?

“Look -”

She shook her head. “No.”

Bucky sighed. “Darcy -”

“Absolutely not!”

“If you’d just -”

She turned to glare at him then, pointing a finger in his direction accusingly. “You, of all people? Do you know how f*cked up that is? The only reason I haven’t slapped the sh*t out of you is because I’m pretty sure it’s the me in you making such a stupid f*cking suggestion!”

Bucky knew she was probably right, that maybe this wasn’t so much his idea so much as her idea coming through his mind. It was hard to tell anymore, really. All he knew was that his body was on fire at all times, watching Darcy and Steve interact, and he was desperate to put out the flames. Seeing the two of them dance around each other, shy and new and adorable, was going to break him. If something didn’t give soon, he was worried what he’d resort to. “What if he asked you to?”

Even if Darcy thought it was a good idea (it wasn’t), or thought it’d work (it wouldn’t), she was unwilling to do what she’d done before, even if Steve asked her to. Using her powers to share her feelings with Steve, to connect the two of them like she and Bucky were… She couldn’t. She had a hard enough time making peace with the way she’d attached herself to the soldier sitting on the bed, there was no way she’d do it again, even if Steve were a willing subject. Darcy wouldn’t change what had happened, unwilling to give up the love in her heart for Bucky and Steve, but she’d learned her lesson.

“The answer is no!”

“What answer is no?”

Darcy jumped, spinning to face Steve with a slightly guilty look on her face. “Nothing! Just a friendly disagreement. Between friends.”

Steve looked between Bucky and Darcy, feeling the tension in the room and knowing it’d been a bit more than Darcy wanted to let on. She was smiling at him, sheepishly and sweet, and he couldn’t find it in him to push. Bucky seemed content to let it drop, so Steve pushed the questions aside.

Bucky sighed as the subjects of his every waking thought smiled at each other, Darcy shifting her weight from one foot to the other, Steve reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck. They were ridiculous and Bucky could already feel the electricity racing up and down his arms by being so near to them.

Darcy’d been so busy yelling at Bucky she hadn’t even noticed Steve’s gold sneaking up. Darcy had been meeting with Bruce regularly over the past two weeks, working hard on her control, and she was starting to think his guru-schtick actually worked. She could now easily flip the colors on and off with a blink. It was a little too ‘Samantha from BeWitched’ for her tastes, but she’d take what she could get.

She felt an ache in her body as she looked at Steve, gorgeous and tall and looking like a dream. It wasn’t right that someone she’d never really touched could affect her this much, make the blood pump through her veins so quickly. She knew Bucky’s feelings had a lot to do with it, borrowed and deeper than they should be, but she’d found Steve Rogers hot as f*ck before all the metaphysical mumbo-jumbo. Now she just had a wealth of memories to confirm his hotness quotient.

(Hint: It was high.)

Steve tore his gaze away from Darcy’s pretty hazel eyes, glancing over at Bucky and trying his best to ignore the feeling that twisted in his chest as she smiled at him with affection Steve didn’t think he’d earned yet. “I’m done with training for the day. You guys eat yet? We could get dinner?”

Bucky shook his head, “haven’t eaten yet. Wasn’t sure when you’d get back.”

“Okay. I’ve gotta shower, then we can head down?” Steve turned back to Darcy, frowning slightly when she continued looking at him with a slightly vacant expression on her face. “Darcy?”

Steve’s lips were moving, his eyes looking at her questioningly, and she realized she’d zoned out while thinking of him naked. It wasn’t her fault that Steve Rogers was the poster boy for ‘hot as f*ck’ and she was struck dumb at the very sight of him. Darcy felt her cheeks flush and pulled on one of her sleeves, trying to slow her pulse. “Huh? What’d you say?”

“He asked if we wanted to get dinner,” Bucky supplied, one corner of his mouth turning up, not needing to share memories or emotions to know exactly what she’d been thinking about. It was written on her face, in the pink of her skin, and it only helped his fantasies bloom anew, wanting to trace that color with his tongue as it flowed across her body. “I said we’d love to.”

Darcy crossed her arms over her chest, giving Bucky a soft glare, their argument still fresh in her mind. “Oh, you’re answering for me now?”

Bucky rose an eyebrow at her. “Are you saying no?”

“No!” She heard Bucky snort, then turned to Steve, eyes widening as she realized how that could be interpreted. “I meant a ‘no’ to him, and a ‘yes’ to you. A yes to dinner. With us. Yes.” When Steve smiled at her it was like the sun had shone for her and her alone.

“Alright. I’ll take a quick shower and then we can head down?”

Shower scene, the voice in Darcy’s head hissed, unable to come up with any words to say in response. She nodded a bit more emphatically than was necessary and stepped out of his way, studiously looking at her feet as he passed.

As the bathroom door whispered closed behind Steve, both Bucky and Darcy waited until the water turned on before relaxing. “Darce -”

“I don’t think I can be in here while he’s showering, Buck. I only have so much control.”

“Watching the two of you?” He knew his eyes were darkened with lust, and he saw her sharp inhale as he turned all that heat toward her, “it’s like torture.” He stood, his body moving toward hers so carefully, the lines of his body held with tension and barely contained passion. “When is it going to stop?”

“When one of us does something stupid,” Darcy breathed, feeling her heartbeat in her throat as he stopped moving, their bodies separated by less than an inch. She could feel the heat, see it in his eyes, watched his pupils dilate with desire. “So probably me.”

“If that’s what it takes.” He took a breath, Darcy’s scent of citrus blossom and gardenia pulling deep into his lungs, before he nodded at the door. “We’ll come grab you when he’s ready.”

When he took a step back from her, Darcy rocked back on her heels, having been seconds away from giving in and doing what her body wanted her to do; crash her mouth to his, slot their bodies together like they’d been made for each other, finally know what the man who controlled half of her heart’s lips tasted like. That they’d gone this long without doing so had to be worth some kind of award. Perhaps the Nobel Peace prize, most definitely the president’s congressional medal of honor.

Darcy nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She couldn’t keep her fingers from touching him on the way out, caressing his arm as she passed, eyes locking with his, wishing she could match the want in her eyes with the want in her body.

As she left him standing there, she thanked Ziggy Stardust that Steve took quick showers.

Attempting to date someone you’d already spent a lifetime loving, but who knew almost nothing about you, was complicated. An understatement, for sure, but as Darcy wasn’t able to articulate it any better, it’d have to do. She could feel the people in the cafeteria moving around them, laughing and enjoying their dinner, but all she could think about was the two men sitting with her at the table.

Every time she was with them, every dinner or movie night or walk around the compound grounds, every time left her aching for their touch and the feel of their skin on hers. It felt so wrong, being unable to touch them, and her fingers itched to reach out and trace the lines of their jaws, over the stubble that they hadn’t shaved yet, down the long lines of their necks, over the bumps and dips of their collarbones. As her thoughts kept following the route of her imaginary fingers south, she felt the shot of desire blow through her body, breath coming out in a frustrated exhale.

Bucky was being amazing, carrying the conversation when it lulled (had he always talked this much, or was that the ‘Darcy’ in him?) and she was grateful, but she wanted more. She wanted to see dopey smiles on their faces. She wanted to hold hands. She wanted to press her lips to Steve’s when he said something sweet that showed he was really trying in spite of the whole f*cked up situation.

But she’d never kissed him, so she didn’t, because she couldn’t.

,,, could she?

What would happen if she did? She’d already gone and done the stupidest thing she could by grabbing that f*cking gem, so what was holding her back? Bucky’s sensibilities, probably. But they didn’t need sensible. They needed stupid, and that was right up her alley.

“We did this all backward.”

Bucky’s story about Rubley’s training the previous day was interrupted by Darcy’s words. There had been a bit of wonder as well as a growl in her voice, and both he and Steve were left blinking in her direction. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes slightly unfocused, but when she finally glanced up at them, something in her eyes made Bucky’s pulse speed up.

Steve felt like he was missing something as he looked back and forth between Bucky and Darcy. They shared a look and he couldn’t help the small stab of jealousy as they communicated without words, feeling left out of the conversation. “What?”

Darcy turned her attention to Steve, the subject of her current thoughts, trying to articulate the emotions that were swirling within her. “Most people learn about each other first, realize they like each other, then it grows organically into something more and, if they’re lucky, bam! Cupid, arrow, the whole shebang. But this -” she gestured between the three of them wildly, frustratingly, “is completely backward. I love you both and it’s f*cking weird, but is it any weirder than being buds with a Norse god and being able to see souls? No! So why are we pretending?”

Darcy’d caught the look on Steve’s face when she said she loved them both, but she was on a roll and she didn’t want to stop. She stood up and leaned heavily on her hands, crowding into their personal space. His eyes were so blue and gorgeous and she wanted, desperately, to see them light at her with the same lust she was sure hers were lighting with for him. Darcy deliberately lowered her voice so they had to lean in, too. Drawing them closer. Darcy was skirting into dangerous territory but she was done with being careful.

“It’s not sudden for me,” she whispered, “it’s not new or untested. I’m not second guessing myself, not when it comes to you. I have wanted you my entire life and I know that’s weird to hear, but it’s true, so f*ck doing this the ‘right’ way. I want to kiss you, I want to kiss Bucky, and I’d like to do it soon. Very soon. Now, if possible.”

As she’d leaned into them, Steve had found himself instinctively drawn closer, eyes darting to her lips as she spoke, mesmerized but their plump movements and the way her voice was just a touch breathless. Her cheeks were pink with lust and the hazel of her eyes were a thin ring, her pupils large and so black and it would be entirely too easy to fall into their depths, to give in to their promise.

Her words took a second to filter past the haze of enchantment she’d cast, but his eyebrows rose toward his hairline when she insinuated that she hadn’t kissed Bucky. It was a surprise, as he’d assumed the two had been making time with each other since the beginning. He’d held himself back from her, stinging with jealousy at the thought of them being together when he wasn’t there. But they hadn’t. Why had they waited?

“You two haven’t...”

Darcy shook her head, seeing Bucky’s same soft movement in her peripheral vision. “Nope. We’ve been good, and I am sh*t at being good. So I’m going to stop.” Mind made up, unable to look at him anymore without knowing the feel of his lips on hers, Darcy reached out and fisted her hand in Steve’s shirt, yanking him forward and closing the distance between their mouths.

Even with Bucky’s memories, the countless times she’d kissed Steve Rogers, she still felt the thrill of it being her first. His lips were soft, and he was too startled to respond in any real way, but that was alright. This was a marathon, not a sprint, and the finish line was definitely not here in the cafeteria.

She was kissing him. Darcy was kissing him, and Steve’s body had gone still with the abruptness of it all. Her hand in his shirt was still pulling him closer, her lips sliding over his, and he found himself pinging with desire, feeling it like a lightning bolt throughout his limbs, singing up and down his arms, making the hair on the back of his neck rise. The scent of her perfume was pulled into his lungs as he took in a breath of surprise, and Steve was suddenly drowning in flowers and fruit.

Reluctantly, Darcy pulled back, watching the color flush Steve’s cheeks, enjoying the way his eyes drifted down toward her lips then flicked back up, surprise parting his lips as he breathed out. She could feel Bucky inches away, intent on them. “I’m going to go back to my room. I’ll be there, waiting, and I’d really like it if you and Bucky joined me.”

Steve’s eyes followed hers as she pushed back from the table, standing, looking down at him with eagerness and the slightest hint of uncertainty. Hazel eyes flicked to his left and Steve followed that look as well, seeing the obvious desire shining in Bucky’s grey gaze. As Darcy began to move away from them, Steve’s eyes swung to watch her again, feeling Bucky lean into him, his voice nothing more than a growl in Steve’s ear.

“We’ve waited for you, didn’t want to do anything when you weren’t there. We wanted it to be the three of us, we needed you. I get that you need time, but look at her. She’s our dream, Steve. Wants you. Wants me. Wants both of us. A dream.”

Darcy had to force herself away from them, every step taking her further from the men her body was aching for. When she’d almost gotten to the door, she risked a glance over her shoulder. Bucky was whispering into Steve’s ear, constant and insistent, the blond’s eyes followed her hips as they swung purposefully.

She kept her cool until she was out of sight, then broke into a run toward her room. Please show up! Please show up! Please show up!

“Imagine you pressed between us, our hands everywhere, mouths burning over your skin. I think about it all day. I wanna leave you panting and spent, let you catch your breath before we start all over again. Want you, want her, want us to do this together. You both drive me mad and I can’t take it any longer, punk.”

The feel of Bucky’s lips on his ear, voice low and deep and dripping with sex, made it hard for Steve to breathe. His lover had always been mouthy, but the picture Bucky’s words were painting left Steve’s heart pumping, had him straining uncomfortably against his jeans. He took a breath, pulling back to look at Bucky, searching his best friend’s face for anything, but only finding true and honest desire.

The connection Bucky and Darcy shared often made Steve feel left out, like he was on the outside of something looking in. Knowing that they’d held themselves back, that they didn’t do what they wanted to because they wanted Steve to be there, too, made the blond’s heart ache with guilt at having kept them apart.

“I’m sorry,” Steve whispered, watching as his words quelled some of the flames in Bucky’s eyes. “I didn’t realize.”

“Don’t be sorry.”

If only it were that easy. “I’m not where you two are yet,” Steve said after a beat, watching as Bucky shook his head.

“We know, don’t expect you to be. This isn’t a little thing, we don’t want to push you, but can you blame us for being impatient? Look at you.”

The beginning of a chuckle made Steve’s mouth turn, the comment sounding unlike Bucky but so much like Darcy. He could imagine the dark-haired woman saying those three words, hands on her hips and a look in her eye of exasperation. Movement caught his eye and Steve looked up to see many of the soldiers in the cafeteria looking at him and Bucky with interest, but quickly looking away when they’d been caught staring.

“The three of us together… how would it even work?” At the look on Bucky’s face, Steve frowned. “You know what I mean, jerk.”

“We make it work for us,” Bucky said, leaning forward, elbows on the table, “make it whatever we want. I love you, that hasn’t changed and will never change and I need you to know that.” Steve glanced at him, sincerity and genuine truth in Bucky’s grey eyes. “Loving her doesn’t make me love you any less.”

Bucky watched Steve’s mind work, rolling over everything, gaze darkening when Steve’s tongue darted out to lick at his lips, leaving Bucky to wonder if he could still taste Darcy, that maybe if he kissed Steve right now he’d also be able to taste her.

No. Bucky wanted his first taste of her to be real.

“Someone that loves you, all of you, no matter what your hands have done, no matter how much blood is on them. Who knows your regrets and pain but wants you regardless, wants to help chase away the darkness, makes your world brighter, makes you hope and believe there’s light out there waiting. That’s who you are for me, and that’s who she is, too. Having two of those in my corner? A miracle. And she feels that for you, too, even if you’re not there yet.”

Steve’s chest was ready to burst with emotion, and despite the eyes on them, he reached out and gripped Bucky’s hand. He was surprised by the thoughts that had left his best friends mouth, and had to wonder how much his connection with Darcy had helped loose the words. He enjoyed Darcy’s company, liked the way she was able to turn a tough situation easier with her snark, appreciated the way she was dealing with everything with strength and character.

He didn’t love Darcy, no, but that wasn’t really what this was about. This was about something baser, something more primal. This was about the slide of skin on skin, bodies fitting together, names gasped in the air and left to echo off the walls. If they went back to her room, it wouldn’t be about love, it would be about giving into desire, admitting he wanted to know what she felt like against him, admitting that part of him wanted to watch her and Bucky move together, even if that thought still confused him.

There was a darkness in Steve’s gaze and it made Bucky’s heart race, he could see the heat and desire in the cobalt of his lover’s eyes. “Darcy wants us to follow her. Do you want that?”

The unspoken words, the promise of what it meant if they went after her, left Steve’s thoughts tumbling. Darcy was beautiful, all lips and curls and soft curves, and the thought of her body beneath him was enough to leave his mouth watering. Thinking of Bucky there, behind him, both of them watching Darcy’s face as they made her fall apart?

Yes.

Yes, he wanted to follow her.

“Cap, you got a sec?”

It took every ounce of Bucky’s will not to turn and scream at the person who was keeping them from Darcy. He saw the soft fall of Steve’s shoulder as the blond turn toward Maria Hill. He didn’t follow suit, glowering at the empty hallway and counting slowly in his head. One. Two. Three. Four.

“Hill,” Steve said, nodding at her as she came closer, eyes cast down at the tablet in her hands. “You realize it’s after five, right? Even if you’re the director, you can still clock out.”

“I’ve never been a good nine-to-fiver, I thought we shared that trait.” Her eyes flicked from Steve toward Bucky, eyebrow raising as the other man stood there, body practically vibrating with tension. “Is this a bad time?”

Eight. Nine. Ten.

“It’s fine. What can I help with?” Steve watched her look down and risked a glance in Bucky’s direction. His lover was looking at him, his eyes glowing with anticipation, frustration leaving his hands fisting and unfisting at his sides. Seeing how affected Bucky was only tightened the feeling of careful hesitant hunger in himself, and Steve had to look away before he did or said something he’d regret.

“We’ve got a new pilot coming in to train on Monday and I want to run him through his paces. Since Sam’s out, I wanted to get your opinion on who to send instead. I don’t think Vision is the kind…”

Twenty one. Twenty two. Twenty three.

Steve was trying to listen to Maria, he really was, but once he’d finally accepted that he wanted to go with Bucky to Darcy’s room, it was hard to focus on anything else. He was eager, his body thrumming with it, the flash of excitement more telling than he would have liked. Part of Steve - even when he’d been hurting and letting the jealousy take over, even when he’d kept his distance, even with the sting of seeing them together and thinking they’d already made their relationship physical - part of him had wondered what it would be like with the three of them, together.

He’d tried ignoring it, writing it off as a mind trying to make sense of a mess, entertaining the impossible but finding the impossible entirely too tempting. Steve’d been entranced by the images his mind had supplied, dark hair sliding over pale skin and the sounds of his name on their lips, only to convince himself it was hopeless; in what world would they be able to make that work?

Forty eight. Forty Nine.

“We had to let go of Davison, so I’m interviewing potential replacements next Thursday, and you’re more than welcome to join and give some feedback.”

Steve nodded, hoping that it looked sincere, since he had absolutely no idea what Maria had said over the last minute. His brain was preoccupied and the longer they stood in the hallway, the longer he had to second-guess his decision. He could feel the doubts beginning to crowd his mind. Maybe his decision to follow through was rash. He was letting his body and not his brain call the shots, and he knew better than that.

Fifty nine. Sixty.

Bucky turned slightly, reaching out to wrap his hand around Steve’s wrist, the blond’s gaze swinging to him with the movement. “We’re late,” he growled, pulling softly. “Gotta go now.”

One of Maria’s eyebrows raised at Bucky’s voice, low and insistent. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. If you’ve got somewhere to be -”

“We do,” Bucky said, giving the woman a quick glance before his gave the weight of his gray eyes to Steve, knowing they were filled with desperation. He’d waited so long for this, and he needed to finish what had started in the cafeteria.

“I’m sorry, Hill, we’ve got -”

Maria hugged the tablet to her chest, eyes flicking back and forth between the men, trying to decipher what was going on. “No, my mistake. Go, enjoy your weekend. We’ll talk Monday.”

Bucky tugged on his hand and Steve was almost pulled down the hallway before he could give Maria a wave, seeing the curious look in her eyes before he was forced to turn so he didn’t fall. “Jesus, Buck, slow down.”

“You’re already thinking too much,” Bucky said, happy when a group of soldiers split down the middle as he stalked past them, unwilling to allow anything else to keep them from getting to their destination. “You let thoughts get in the way when you’re given enough time.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Steve asked, his heart beating faster the closer they got to Darcy’s room.

“In this case? Yes. She’s waiting for us.” Bucky’s anticipation was making the blood pump louder in his ears, barely containing the desire to sprint. It’d been too long since she’d left them - ten minutes? Twenty? - and he knew Darcy Lewis, knew she’d be doubting herself, just like time was making Steve doubt his decision.

Steve let Bucky drag him, his thoughts doing exactly what Bucky said they would, until they were standing in front of Darcy’s door. Bucky lifted his hand to knock, but paused, looking over at Steve, giving the blond one more chance to back out. It was hard, and it would kill him, but if Steve truly wasn’t ready, if he’d made the decision against his better judgement, no matter how hard it would be, Bucky would understand.

Even with the anguish of pent up passion turning his grey morning eyes to slate, Bucky still was looking to him for reassurance. That, more than anything else, made Steve nod his head. He trusted Bucky, trusted him to be right about this, despite the apprehension and uncertainty that had dampened the lust he’d been consumed by minutes before, Steve trusted Bucky.

Bucky’s knuckle rapped on the door three times, and seconds later the sound of metal on metal left the door unlocked. As he watched Bucky pushed into the room, Steve took a deep breath before following.

Chapter 16: Intertwined

Chapter Text

Darcy wasn’t sure how long she had before they arrived at her door, and she ran around her room like some kind of spastic, horny hummingbird, picking up things from the floor and tossing them into her closet before manic eyes scoured the room again. Oh my god, I just propositioned Captain America for sex in front of the entire f*cking compound. Shiiiit!

She brushed her teeth with a finger, swished and spit some mouthwash, then made sure there weren’t anymore dirty clothes on the floor. You just told the man you want to see him naked. I doubt dirty socks are what’s gonna to scare him off. Darcy’s heart was thundering in her chest and the more seconds that ticked by, the more nervous she got.

Had she overplayed her hand? Steve was having to accept a whole lot in a short amount of time and she knew it was f*cking nuts. But the guy had signed up for nuts, right? Being a science experiment? Fighting red-faced skull nazis? Aliens?! In the big scheme of things, having someone fall in love with you overnight was pretty mild.

Or, at least, that’s what she kept telling herself as the quiet stretched on. She collapsed on her bed, shoulders slumping, when a half hour had passed. She’d been too pushy, too forward. Doing it in the cafeteria had been a terrible idea. Steve worked with those people. Most of them probably worked for him. She shouldn’t have presumed. She’d f*cked everything up, just like she always did.

Good one, Lewis. Loves of your life and you just shut your eyes and dive head first and you didn’t even check to see how deep -

There was a knock at her door. She scrambled to her feet. Darcy was too afraid to blink, scared she wouldn’t see gold and crimson on the other side.

“Ma’am -”

“Open the door, yes, Friday, f*cking open it!” Darcy took a deep breath and held it as the door swung open.

She didn’t have to blink to see the determination in the air around Bucky’s body as he stalked toward her. He never hesitated, not for a second, before crashing his mouth against hers. Darcy matched his enthusiasm with her own, moaning against his lips, her body singing with satisfaction at finally getting to know what his lips felt like against hers. It was a release, like a bomb had gone off in her chest. This! Yes! This!

Bucky’s mouth fed hungrily at Darcy’s lips, a low growl escaping and rumbling from his body into hers. Something in his mind clicked, like this, his body against hers, Darcy in his arms, brought one more piece of his broken puzzle back together, fitting perfectly. He’d never been a particularly poetic man, but the way this felt stole every word from his brain except for finally.

Darcy was dizzy. When Bucky’s hands moved down her back, ghosting over her ass then lifting, she was more than happy to follow his lead, wrapping her legs around him, knowing he’d keep them upright. As far as kisses went, this was by f*cking far the best kiss she’d ever had. Kissing this man was like coming up for air, like oxygen, feeding her fire and making it burn brighter, hotter. She was certain that no one else, in the history of the world, had ever gotten a kiss that meant as much as this.

She gasped as they pulled apart, every nerve in her body firing at once. Her skin felt like flames, and Darcy was more than happy to burn, welcoming the heat. She blinked as she fell into his eyes, grey and beautiful, and seeing them this close was everything. His lips were swollen and beautiful and she couldn’t look away. “I’ve been waiting to do that -”

“- your entire life,” Bucky finished, giving her a smirk, knowing he was flushed like she was. She’d tasted like mint, from the mouthwash she used, but even under that, Bucky could taste her. Darcy was sweet, like candy, like spun sugar. He wanted another nip and it looked like she did, too.

Darcy bent her head forward to recapture Bucky’s mouth, to continue what they’d waited so long to share, but stopped at a sound behind them, both turning toward the door, more specifically to the man who was standing there, watching them. Steve looked uncertain, insecure, and it broke her heart. All Steve could see was someone, practically a stranger, kissing the person he loved. sh*t.

There was a war being waged inside Steve Rogers and even though he was a career soldier, he wasn’t sure how to handle the cannonfire of emotions assaulting him. Watching Bucky and Darcy wrap themselves around each other, the passionate kiss they shared, left him on fire and doused in ice at the same time.

Without a thought toward his emotions, Steve’s body throbbed with attraction. They were beautiful, dark and gorgeous, and the way their bodies fit against each other made his mouth dry and his blood rush, until he felt dizzy.

But the other side of him, the one that wasn’t able to separate himself from his internal melancholy, could only see the man he loved in the arms of another, willing and eager at the attention. It was hard to reconcile the two, though he tried, but when they both looked in his direction, he froze. Steve wasn’t sure what he wanted anymore.

Darcy unwrapped her legs from Bucky’s waist and he lowered her to her feet carefully. She needed to wipe that expression from Steve’s face, had to make him understand that what she felt for him was real. She loved him, just as she loved Bucky. Darcy’s fingers trailed from Bucky’s as she left his side, coming to stand directly in front of Steve. She looked up at him through her lashes, trying to put everything she felt for him into her eyes.

“You’re here.”

Steve swallowed as she looked up at him, everything written on her face without an ounce of uncertainty. Finally, after his silence had stretched on, he nodded at Darcy.

“Can I kiss you now?”

Darcy watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed again, his blue eyes looking over her shoulder at Bucky.

Bucky watched Steve glance in his direction, looking for some kind of permission, or maybe to gauge if this wasn’t what he and Darcy really wanted. The heat and desire that welled in Bucky’s chest burned, and he blinked at Steve, eyes heavy with hunger.

Steve searched Bucky’s face, giving himself one more chance of escape if he saw a hint of indecision, a single shade of doubt. He saw nothing in his best friend’s eyes except heavy need, exposed and raw and so beautiful it stole his breath. As his gaze returned to Darcy, he could see the same truth in her eyes. He gave her an almost imperceptible nod.

It wasn’t enough for him to nod. Darcy needed to hear it, needed to know that he was there for this and wanted it. “Say it. Please.”

Decision made, Steve gave her what she wanted, what he wanted. “Yes.”

“f*cking finally.”

Darcy melted against the front of his body, rising on her toes, pressing Steve back against the door. There’d been no hesitation in Bucky whatsoever as his mouth had crashed against hers, but she could feel Steve holding back. Darcy wrapped her arms around his neck, making desperate noises against his mouth, needing him to know that she wanted this, wanted him, just as much as she wanted Bucky.

She fit against his body differently than Bucky, smaller and more fragile, and all Steve could think about what how she wasn’t Bucky, and that it was wrong to be doing this. Then she was pulling at him, small sounds of want whispered against his lips, and he couldn’t help responding, pushing the heavier thoughts aside and choosing to follow through, to let himself have this, have her.

There was a moment of pressure, Darcy could feel the heft of it in the air, and then it evaporated. Suddenly Steve was feeding at her lips, hands on her hips, pulling her closer, finally, finally just giving in. He spun them and Darcy gasped when her back hit the door and he pinned her against it, lips scorching a line along her jaw.

Once he’d allowed himself to begin, Steve couldn’t stop. She was soft, panting against him, his mouth tracing along her jaw and to the shell of her ear, tongue swiping against the skin of her neck. She was writhing against him, her fingernails scraping down the back of his neck and Steve moaned against her, pressing Darcy against the door with his hips, chasing the friction between them.

Everywhere Steve touched was flames and heat, leaving Darcy gasping, her fingers sliding to the back of his neck, humming encouragements as his mouth traveled down the column of her throat, his teeth nipping and biting before moving to untouched skin. “f*ck, f*ck, yes, right there, oh god, Steve, don’t stop!”

She knew from Bucky that Steve was no blushing virgin, despite the wholesome image the media and history portrayed, and as he trapped her against the door with his body, she could feel the press of him, hard and hot against her, and it took everything she had not to spontaneously combust right then and there.

Darcy felt more weight press against her and her eyes fluttered open, seeing the swath of Bucky’s dark hair behind Steve, his body sandwiching the blond between them. She both heard and felt the lust-filled moan Steve made as Bucky slotted himself against Steve’s back, in turn pushing Steve tighter against her. When Steve’s hand trailed down her side, brushing against the swell of her breast, down her hip, over the bare skin of her thigh, she helped him and lifted her leg, happy when he hooked it around his hip, drawing himself even closer.

The feel of pressing Darcy against the door, the mewling noises she was making, and the feel of Bucky behind him, the weight familiar and heavy, left Steve gasping for air, tongue darting out to lick Darcy’s neck as he breathed. One of his hands continued to hold Darcy’s leg around him, his hips grinding into her, knowing she could feel him, so close and only separated by a few thin layers of fabric.

Bucky bit the back of Steve’s neck, feeling his lover grow more supple, less rigid, melting like liquid. When Bucky thrust his body into Steve’s, letting the blond know just how much he and Darcy affected him, the chorus of moans only drew him tighter, harder.

Darcy’s desire blew through her like a gunshot, leaving her breathless and aching. Bucky’s mouth was pressed to the bit of skin behind Steve’s ear and she knew it drove the blond crazy. She took advantage of Steve’s gasp to capture his lips again, tongue swiping until he opened to her, feeling his body react as she writhed against him.

Steve was trapped between her and Bucky, two people who knew exactly what made him turn to liquid, where to touch to make his knees weak, and he was willing, so very willing. The doubtful whispers in his mind were quieted as they worked together until he was desperate, pulling on Darcy’s hips, squirming back against Bucky, pressed tight and hard against his ass.

Darcy put everything in her lips against Steve’s, in her fingernails as they scratched the back of his neck, pulling at his hair to expose more skin for her to run her tongue over. He tasted warm and perfect and she was obsessed, addicted. Bucky and her worked in tandem, it was a dance they’d memorized, and it was beautiful to watch Steve react in their arms, body bowing as they hit that spot, the one that made him cry out.

Bucky took a step backward, pulling Steve with him, away from the door and Darcy and toward her bed. Steve was gorgeous, his lips red and swollen where Darcy’s teeth had bit at them, a flush high on his cheeks. Bucky drove the blond back until he could push him, watching as the back of Steve’s legs hit the bed and he fell onto it. Bucky followed him down, pressing the weight of his body onto Steve, grinding his hips, capturing Steve’s lips, tongue caressing, breathless.

Steve was like a taut rubberband, stretched and strained, ready to break. His hands fisted in the back of Bucky’s shirt, moaning against the other man’s mouth, feeling Bucky’s co*ck firm against his. The feeling was almost too much and Steve cried out, eyes closing, body bucking upward.

Watching Bucky and Steve together, surging and swelling against each other, left Darcy mesmerized. She was struck dumb with the reality of it, unable to form any real coherent thoughts. She’d been away from them for too long and she felt the agony of it in her bones. Her feet carried her across the room until she crawled beside them on the bed. When Bucky lifted his mouth from Steve’s, she leaned in and captured Bucky’s pouting lower lip between her teeth. She could hear Steve’s labored breathing in her ear as he watched them kiss from inches away.

Steve blinked, watching Bucky and Darcy’s lips, their tongues swiping and rolling, the dichotomy of emotions falling silent at the pure beauty of it. They were dark hair and pouting lips, swollen and gorgeous, Steve’s mind shorting out at the vision they made. Even while they occupied each other, Darcy’s hand slipped between his and Bucky’s bodies, snaking under his shirt, her nails running over the skin of Steve’s lower stomach, his muscles bunching under her fingers as they flexed.

Bucky tore his mouth away from Darcy long enough to tug his shirt over his head, tossing it behind him without a thought, awe-struck at the sight when Darcy turned her attention to Steve, capturing the blond’s mouth, her breathy sighs against Steve’s lips like the prettiest song he’d ever heard. She was saying Steve’s name, over and over, like a prayer.

Steve was floating on a haze of skin and lips and teeth and breath, his body reacting to both Darcy and Bucky immediately, like they knew exactly where to kiss, where to nip, where to caress and brush and show attention, because they did. They both had years of knowledge at their disposal and Steve was helpless as they surrounded him.

When Darcy’s tongue licked his lips Steve answered her eagerly, his hand sliding through her hair, pulling softly, just enough for her to feel the strength in his hands. Her curls were soft as his fingers tangled in them, using the hold he had to turn her head and pull her down until he could lick along the column of her throat, from her clavicle to the little bit of skin behind her ear that made her gasp so erotically that his hips thrust upward into Bucky at the sound.

She was like putty, happy to mold against Steve and Bucky wherever she could. They both had the thought at the same time, and between her and Bucky, it only took a second for Steve’s shirt to be tossed aside. Finally, finally, Darcy was gifted for the first time (for the millionth time) with the vision that was Shirtless Steve Rogers. She’d loved his body before the serum, when he was smaller and frailer but still a perfect fit against her body (Bucky’s body), but now?

“f*ck,” Darcy gasped, lips parting hungrily as her eyes devoured him.

“I know,” Bucky said with a small chuckle, shaking his head softly, knowing exactly what Darcy meant. “Never gets old.” And it didn’t. Not ever. Bucky had wanted Steve since he’d figured out what wanting someone felt like, since he’d realized that he liked the pretty dames and the tiny blond boy who’d never met a bully he wasn’t willing to bleed for. Pre-serum or post-serum, Bucky’s hunger for Steve had never waned.

Steve could feel the blush blossom in his cheeks and flush down to his chest. The way both Darcy and Bucky were looking at him, like he’d hung the moon, like they couldn’t believe he was real, made him squirm under their longing gazes. He felt uncertain, despite the greediness he could see on their faces.

She’d followed the blush from Steve’s cheeks, down his neck and further south, following the pink as it traveled over his skin. Another curse broke free when Darcy saw Steve’s khakis stretched tight, doing little to hide how hard he was pressed against Bucky. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, gaze flicking back up to Steve’s eyes. He was looking at her, seriousness bleeding in. She watched the tumble of thoughts in his head, flitting behind the cerulean she knew so well.

“Don’t,” she said, leaning to press her lips to his, cradling Steve’s cheeks as she nipped at him, “don’t think. I want this. I want you.” When she pulled back, he was looking up at her, impossibly long lashes brushing against his cheeks as he blinked, then sought Bucky’s eyes.

Bucky heard Darcy’s words, looking up from where his mouth was pressed against Steve’s stomach. “No trick,” he said, tongue dipping into the divot of Steve’s abs, “just need you, both of you, want to make you feel it, believe it.” He locked his gaze with Steve’s, mouth moving downward when he saw the flash of acceptance in the blond’s eyes.

The certainty in Bucky’s face ripped away whatever doubt Steve had left. His head fell back onto Darcy’s bed, his hands fisting in her bright comforter when Bucky rubbed his cheek over the fabric separating him from the part of Steve he wanted, forcing his breath out in a heavy exhale. Steve’s eyes opened when he felt a pull on his hand, looking up into the hunger of Darcy’s face.

Darcy watched Steve’s eyes, darker with lust, follow her hand as she raised it to her breast, feeling the heat of his hand as his fingers flexed against her. She knew the type of woman Steve preferred, knew that she ticked a lot of his boxes, and even if he didn’t feel the way she felt about him yet, she didn’t mind. They’d go backward. Sex first, satisfying the need in their bodies, releasing the tension that had been building for weeks. They’d worry about everything else later.

Steve tugged on the fabric of Darcy’s shirt, happy that words hadn’t been needed to accomplish what he wanted. She lifted the hem and pulled the shirt over her head. She was wearing lace, dark blue, and his eyes followed the curves of her body, drinking her in. Darcy was beautiful, her skin so pale against the color of the bra, and Steve watched the blush tint her cheeks and flow south over the rest of her body.

She was breathing heavy, almost spilling out of the cups, and Steve’s fingers brushed along the hem of the lace, down until he was able to hook his finger in the fabric between her breasts, pulling her body down to him. Darcy’s fingers pulled at his hair when he pressed his lips to the swell of skin above the lace, tongue dipping under the fabrics edge. Steve used his fingers to tug the lace down enough that he could pull one pink nipple into his mouth, hearing Darcy’s gasp, feeling the shudder that ran through her body as his tongue flicked and his teeth lightly bit down.

Offended by Steve’s khakis, Bucky popped the buttons on the pants with purpose, wanting to feel the velvet skin and feverish heat they covered. He felt Steve’s sharp intake of air when his co*ck was freed, so warm and so hard in Bucky’s hand. Bucky glanced upward at Darcy’s sound, so erotic, watching her hazel eyes widen with desire as she looked at Steve for the first time.

Lust flashed through Darcy like lightning as Bucky’s head dipped down, eyes locked with hers, his tongue swiping at the bead of moisture that had glistened on Steve’s swollen tip. “f*ck me,” she whispered to herself, pulse racing.

“Kind of busy right now, but that’s on the agenda,” Bucky said, eyes dark with craving as he glanced up at both of them, a self-satisfied smirk curling his lips when Steve pulled his face away from Darcy’s chest and pinned him with a look of frenzy, eyes wide and pupils so big he could barely see the cobalt around the edge. “He’s a screamer, doll. Make him a mute?”

Darcy was more than happy to keep Steve’s mouth busy, crashing against him, swallowing the moans the blond made as Bucky wrapped his hand and lips about Steve’s co*ck, tongue rippling against the skin he knew so well, drawing gasps and curses from Steve every few seconds. Steve was left writhing on the bed, Darcy drawing on Bucky’s memories to know how hard Steve liked his hair pulled, tangling her fingers and pulling, ecstatic when he whispered her name, the end of it turning into a sigh.

Steve’s senses were overwhelmed. The taste of Darcy’s tongue as she licked into his mouth. The sound of her breathy gasps as she looked down his body to see Bucky working up and down, the feel of lips sliding and hand twisting just the way Steve liked it. His hips were bucking, thrusting up into Bucky, chasing the man’s mouth, wanting him to move faster, wanting more.

Bucky could feel the impatience in Steve’s body, muscles taut, moving desperately. He’d never liked rushing when it came to this, but he was more than a little impatient himself, pressed hard and firm against the bed. He was already leaking, looking up the lines of Steve’s body to see Darcy’s mouth working down Steve’s neck, the blond’s head thrown back, lips parted as he panted. The blue lace of Darcy’s bra was pulled down, exposing a nipple that was already red and taut from the way Steve’s mouth had been rolling it.

They were gorgeous together, so much better than Bucky could have ever imagined, and he was already so close, just from the feel of Steve in his mouth and the vision of Darcy’s body above. Bucky pressed his hand on Steve’s lower stomach, keeping the blond from thrusting upward, wanting to draw this out until Steve was frantic.

“f*ck,” Steve breathed, body humming, jerking upward into Bucky’s warmth. Darcy was like liquid, pressing as much of herself against him as she could. He rolled one of her nipples in his fingers as he kissed her, tongue lapping, teeth biting at her lips. As Bucky began to move faster, lips closing over him and sliding up and down, Steve’s hand snaked down the front of her body, over her curves, until he pushed past the hem of her shorts and the bit of lace he assumed was the same color as the bra. He cupped her, feeling her body convulse at his touch, fingers dipping until he could feel her, slick and so warm. “Darcy.”

She’d become a creature that lived for the sound of her name on their lips, seeking their touch, needing to feel the weight of them. Darcy gasped against Steve’s mouth as his fingers slipped over and over between her folds, each movement making her circle higher, until she could taste her release on the back of her tongue. “Steve!”

Bucky knew Darcy was close, could hear it in her voice as she called Steve’s name, and that knowledge urged him on, until he was taking as much of Steve in his mouth as he could, tongue sliding against the other man’s co*ck with purpose, Steve’s hips thrusted upward as he tore his mouth from Darcy’s and filled her room with Bucky’s name, over and over. Steve’s hand fisted in Bucky’s hair as he came, his hips stuttering, until Bucky was drowning in the taste of his lover as Steve shuddered with release.

Watching Steve come apart was almost enough to push Darcy over the edge. He was stunning, flushed, his lower lip sucking inward as his eyes screwed close. She watched Bucky swallow, until Steve was left jerking, until he collapsed back against the bed, limbs falling heavily, his hand slipping away from her.

The second Steve fell away from her, Bucky was there, pressing himself into Darcy, her legs wrapping around his waist. He fed hungrily, hips thrusting against her, knowing she could taste Steve on his lips as they kissed, feeling her tongue chase for another hint. His hand slotted between their bodies, pushing past the fabric of her shorts, fingers curling expertly, knowing just how to touch her to make her fall.

She’d already been so close just watching Bucky and Steve, but the feel of Bucky’s firm fingers rubbing right there had her crying his name against his mouth, hands fumbling for him, wanting to feel him spill against her. Feeling frantic, she finally slipped past his pants, wrapping her fingers around the smooth, velvet length, so hard and swollen, thumb brushing over his tip, spreading the precome as he stuttered into her hand.

Her legs lifted higher, until she was able to use her feet to push his pants down, making it easier to take him in her hands, squeezing with even pressure, her wrist turning at his head before traveling back down and starting the circuit all over again. Bucky was gorgeous, growling her name against her lips, his tongue curling into her mouth, desperate. How had she ever kept herself from doing this? How had she managed to keep her hands off either of them when her desire for them burned within her, scorching the earth in her heart until there was nothing left but them?

It felt like they’d done this forever, as if they’d screamed each other’s names for years, for centuries, for eons. To Bucky, the only people that had ever held pieces of his heart were in the room; the blond laying boneless on the bed beside him, whom he could still taste on his tongue, and the raven-haired beauty laid beneath him, his fingers flexing expertly against her, feeling her warmth, knowing by the way her breath hitched that she was so close, just like he was.

It was perfect, and right, and though they didn’t fit their bodies against each other like he ached to, he was nothing short of breathless at the feel of her body against his, her heel pressing into his ass, other knee open and to the side, giving him better access to her, her hand moving over and over his co*ck, quicker and with purpose.

Bucky pressed his forehead against hers as his hips pumped faster, desperately, fingers working harder, feeling the first flutter of her walls, body going rigid at the feel. Their shared memories, coupled with the fact that they’d worked together to make Steve fall, had them both seeing white, the sounds of their release echoing off the walls of Darcy’s bedroom.

Darcy couldn’t move, Bucky’s body pressed down on her as they both lay dazed, struck dumb by the weight and strength of their org*sms. She wasn’t sure where she ended and they began. Her eyes fluttered open when she felt fingers thread through hers, turning her head to find Steve’s blue gaze on her, on both of them.

Feeling like rubber, Bucky pressed kisses to the skin of Darcy’s neck, along her clavicle, unable to move but still filled with the reality that she was there, and that he got to touch her like this, and that Steve was only inches away, his breath fanning against his bicep.

When Steve had crawled out of the haze of his release, he’d watched Bucky and Darcy move against each other. Desperate. Wild. Maybe it was because his mind was still reeling from everything, but he felt a satisfaction as they’d rutted against each other, hands seeking, fumbling, success and relief as they’d both come. Darcy’s hand had been the closest, so he’d grabbed it, still wanting to touch them, the air in the room still weighted and charged.

Bucky’s lips peppered Darcy’s jaw before they captured her mouth again, softly this time, not rushed and hungry, but delicate. He pulled back, following her line of sight to find Steve’s eyes on them, heavy and hooded, a careful hesitance in his gaze.

Darcy felt spent, her limbs heavy as she squeezed Steve’s hand. Slowly, Bucky detangled himself from her, legs shaking as he stood up, chuckling softly. Steve watched him move away and toward the bathroom before his eyes fell back to Darcy, seeing the tired smile on her lips as she blinked at him. It was too easy to let the colors bleed into her vision, watching his gold strobe brightly, the swatch of blue shining like a sapphire and beating in time with his heartbeat. She blinked the colors away, glad to see he was still looking at her, beautifully messy. “Hi.”

As his brain began to push past the haze of sex and satisfaction, Steve was left with his thoughts slowly swirling. He didn’t deserve the way Darcy was looking at him, so happy, so fulfilled. He tried to match her smile with one of his own, but he knew it was softer than he would have liked.

She could see Steve’s brain working behind those gorgeous blue eyes, knew that they’d all be coming back down to Earth in different ways. She’d known when she’d invited them that this wasn’t going to solve anything. It would make things easier, sure, not having to deal with the unending hunger she felt when looking at them, but their issues would still be there, needing to be worked through.

Darcy didn’t want him to think heavy thoughts, not yet, and she wiggled across the bed until she could press her body against the line of his, hand resting on his pec, face nuzzling his chest as she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, her eyes falling closed. “Thank you.”

She couldn’t see his face, but Steve’s eyebrows rose upward at her words, chin dipping as he stared at the ceiling. “It kind of feels like I should be the one thanking you.” He felt Darcy’s body as she laughed, so warm where it was pressed against his skin.

“You didn’t have to come here, but you did. I know this is a lot and I know it’s not easy, but… thank you.” She lifted her head, grinning up at him when he glanced down at her.

“Darcy, it was… I mean, you’re... and the way you...“ When she laughed knowingly and pressed her lips to his chest, Steve couldn’t help but smile.

“What the punk is trying to say is that it was his pleasure,” Bucky said, flopping onto the bed on Steve’s other side, grinning at the blond when he frowned. “Tell me that’s not what you wanted to say.”

Darcy felt Steve take a breath to argue, then felt as he exhaled sharply, the chuckle making his chest rumble deeply, laughing when Bucky made a vindicated noise. “You’re adorable” she said, pressing her cheek against Steve’s chest, her fingers tracing circles on his skin, invisible letters and symbols that no one would be able to see.

A comfortable silence seemed to fall over them, and Steve gave himself a chance to enjoy it, the feel of them on either side, warm and tired and languid, but he wasn’t able to push away the nagging doubts at the back of his mind.

Bucky frowned when Steve shifted under their arms, carefully sitting up and slipping off the bed. He watched Steve reach down and button his pants, frowning harder when he saw a flash of insecurity cross Darcy’s face as she groped over the side of the bed for her shirt. He’d known the happy after sex glow would fade, but he’d hoped it’d last a little longer than it seemed Steve was going to let it. “Steve?”

Darcy pulled her shirt over her head, flipping her hair out as she pulled it into place, hiding her body from view. She could see the hesitation in Steve’s body, the rigid way he was holding himself. Reality was beginning to crash around them and all she could hope was that it didn’t destroy everything.

“I don’t regret what we did,” Steve said carefully, watching as Darcy turned to look at him, seeing Bucky’s soft glare at his words. “You two, together… It’s just… I want to know you better, Darcy. I know how you feel about me, and I believe it, but it still feels like I’m taking advantage of the situation, even if you’re alright with it.”

“I understand,” Darcy said, crossing her arms over her chest, biting the inside of her cheek, turning to look at a spot on the carpet near her feet.

“No, I don’t think you do.” Steve moved so he was kneeling beside her, reaching out to grab her hand. When her hazel eyes swung toward him, wet and filling quickly with tears, he squeezed her hand. “I want you to believe it when I look at you, when I want you. I don’t want you to doubt that I’m doing it for myself and not just for you and Bucky. Can you really tell me that you’d be fine not knowing if I wasn’t being honest with you? That you wouldn’t doubt it?”

Looking into his eyes from so close, seeing the truth in them, made Darcy really think about what he was asking. Would she doubt it? She knew Steve wouldn’t lie, that he couldn’t, but the idea of looking into his eyes and knowing he wasn’t sure… No. She didn’t want that.

When she shook her head at him, a tear breaking free with the movement, Steve gave her a sweet grin and reached up to brush it from her cheek. “I want to do this right.”

“I know,” she said, sniffling, “because you’re an amazing person. But f*ck, how am I supposed to go without now? You’re like a goddamned Greek god, Rogers. Could you not?”

Even with tears drying on her face, Darcy still managed to make him laugh. Steve’s smile was rueful as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to her cheek, tasting the salt on her skin before pulling back. “Not sure I have much of a choice there, Darce.”

Bucky’s mouth was curled into a smile, watching the two of them interact, somehow still shy and bashful despite what they’d just done to each other’s bodies. He knew Steve like he knew himself, sometimes better than he knew himself, and it was only a matter of time until Steve saw Darcy like he saw her. He hadn’t lied to Steve in the cafeteria; Darcy was a dream, their dream, and it was a dream he refused to give up on.

“Can I at least, like, hold your hand? Kiss you? I’d promise to stay hands off, but that’s going to be impossible, I’m telling you right now.” Darcy’s lips curled when he smiled warmly at her.

“I think that’d be okay.”

“Good. That’s good.”

“And everything else?” Bucky watched as their gazes swung toward him.

Steve stood. “We continue what we were doing. Spending time together.”

“Dates, Buck. We go on dates. And I make you work for it.”

Bucky rose an eyebrow in Darcy’s direction. “How’s that now?”

“I know you love me, and you know I love you, but I’d still like a little romance from time to time. That charming smile and demeanor will only get you so far,” she said with a grin. When Steve laughed, attempting to cover it with a cough, she watched Bucky glare in the other man’s direction. Her gaze faded from laughter to seriousness as she turned back to Steve. “But that’s just for me, right? You and Bucky will still… I wouldn’t want you to go celibate on account of me.”

Bucky watched Steve sit on the bed, still holding Darcy’s hand, face thoughtful. “We’ve already talked to each other about me and you.”

Steve looked between the two of them. “You already... talked about it?”

Darcy looked down at their joined hands, at the chipped blue nail polish on her thumb. “I mean, yeah, it might have come up. You guys have already missed out on so much time together. I don’t want to come between you like that. Besides, I’m the one bashing into your relationship. Buck and I didn’t do anything because it all felt like it was cheating, not being with you, not making sure it was okay with you first.”

His blue eyes searched her face for any hint of resentment, but all Steve could see was careful honesty. When her gaze flicked up to his, the smile that turned Steve’s lips was genuine in its affection. How had he gotten this so wrong? Because you didn’t ask, you assumed. He sighed, squeezing her hand, a flash of guilt tightening his chest. “If you feel left out -”

“It’s not… that’s not it, Steve.” Darcy looked up at him, eyes focused as she tried to explain herself. “I don’t feel jealous when you and Bucky are together. I feel happy. I’m happy you’re comfortable enough around me that you don’t worry if you’re touching, that you don’t feel like you have to hide what you feel. I love you, and I love Bucky, and I love you and Bucky, together. Am I… does that make sense?”

It was a little hard for Steve to fully understand, but he nodded, seeing the sincerity in her eyes. “I think so.”

Darcy picked at an invisible piece of lint on her comforter, feeling the weight of his eyes on her. “But hey, if you’re together and you realize you wish I was there with you… then that’d be pretty neat.” When her gaze flicked up to look at him, her lips turned upward into a smirk as he grinned at her from inches away.

“Alright, you guys stare longingly into each other’s eyes, I’m going to order a pizza and pick out a movie.”

When Steve realized how long he had been looking into Darcy’s eyes, a blush chased across his cheeks. He squeezed her hand one more time before he stood. “If you try make us watch Jumanji again, I’m going to institute veto rules.”

“You already used veto this week,” Darcy said, bending over to grab Steve’s shirt and throwing it to him. She crossed into the bathroom, leaving the door open as she pulled a towel from the cabinet.

“I did?”

Darcy laughed, sticking her head back into the room. “Yeah, when he picked Jumanji Monday night.”

“Oh, that’s right.” Steve was grateful that the heavy seriousness in the room seemed to fade in such a short amount of time, like things between the three of them were more familiar, more comfortable. That it was so easy for Steve to be himself around Darcy was more telling than he’d thought.

Smiling to himself, Steve settled onto the couch, grabbing one of the brightly colored throws Darcy had spread around the room. “Buck, there are so many other movies.”

“Maybe I just really like the monkeys.”

Chapter 17: Certain Calculations

Chapter Text

“Webhead, do you ever think about the universe?”

Peter Parker’s eyes were wide as he looked toward Darcy, perched on the worktable behind him, legs swinging, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Webhead?”

“I mean, I’ve seen the universe, you know? Okay, maybe not the whole universe but I’ve seen how connected we all are. And we are. Connected, I mean. It’s just... easy to get lost in it when I think too hard, you know?” Darcy blinked at Peter behind her glasses, watching the surprise fill his caffeine-dilated eyes.

“I…. yeah. Sure. The universe is… big, it’s real big. Lots of… uh… stars and -”

She cut him off. “What I mean, Spiderguy, is things can get really busy in my mind and -”

“Lewis, am I paying you to make an ass indentation on my table?”

Darcy turned toward Tony as he appeared, her jaw hanging open in blatant offense. “Excuse me, you dick?!”

Tony rolled his eyes at her expression. “I meant that you were in that spot when I left for my meeting and here you are, in the exact same spot, when I return. So I ask again: what are you doing to earn your keep?”

“The kid’s showing me what you’re working on,” she said with a gesture in Peter’s direction, even though that hadn’t really been what they’d been talking about, but Tony didn’t need to know that.

Peter turned back toward the circuit board in front of him. “I really wish you guys would stop calling me ‘the kid,” he mumbled.

Tony gestured in Darcy’s direction with his head as he set his paperwork on the nearest surface. “I call her pumpkin and sweetheart.”

“And sport, and kiddo, and cupcake. It’s super awesome,” Darcy said with a glare in his direction, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“So if you’d rather have me call you one of those, I can -”

“Whatever,” Peter said with a shake of his head. “I think I’m almost done with this, Mr. Stark.”

“I told you to call me Tony.”

“And I told you,” Darcy said to Peter’s back, “to call him ‘World’s Okayest Boss.’” She grinned widely when Tony turned to look at her, watching his eyes work behind the tinted color of his glasses.

“Friday?”

“Yes, Boss?”

“Will you order me a ‘World’s Okayest Boss’ coffee mug?”

“It’s already ordered.”

“Thank you.”

When Darcy and Tony’s verbal sparring ended, she jumped off the table and came to stand next to Peter, passing him the soldering iron when he held out his open hand. “Explain this to me again?”

“The suit Mr. Stark -”

“World’s Okayest Boss.”

“Yes. Sure. Yeah. The suit he made for me originally was great, really, it was, but my senses have gotten stronger the longer I’ve had my abilities. In terms of technology, his stuff is ancient.” They both ignored Tony’s shout and continued on like they’d never heard it. “The data I’m taking in is too much. Have you ever heard of the quietest room in the world?”

“You mean Banner’s bedroom?” Darcy raised her hand in the air, seeing Tony do the same across the room in her peripheral vision, a silent high five between the two. “Never heard of the room, but dazzle me.”

“It’s, um, in Minnesota. At Orfield Lab. They’ve specifically made the room so that there is no sound. Like, no sound. You go in there, and you can hear your stomach digesting food, can hear your blood pumping through the ventricles of your heart.”

Darcy’s nose crinkled. “That sounds horrible.”

“Right? I mean, yeah, horrible. The longest anyone’s been able to stand being in there is, like, forty-five minutes. Anyway, they use it to test how loud things actually are.”

“Okay. Weird room. Got it. And that has to do with this because…”

Peter turned toward her, excitement on his face as he explained. It was times like this that he looked and acted like someone much younger than eighteen. The more time Darcy spent with the recently legalized teenager, the more protective she felt. The fact that she knew Tony felt the same way only gave the tech genius more brownie points.

“The suit helps me filter all that out, helps me control what I hear and what I can see. I mean, there are still times when it’s too much, but this helps. This suit and the board I’m working on make it so things are easier to sift through, so I can focus and not let my senses overwhelm me.”

Darcy nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. “Sounds like when I’m in the blackness for too long, when I can hear the stone and feel all the souls. Like they’re too strong and I can’t ignore them.”

She pointed to the bit of tech and opened her mouth to speak but cried out in surprise when Tony’s chair rolled across the floor suddenly and came to stop right next to her, the man giving her a surprised look. “Mother f*ck!”

“Say that again.”

“Mother f*ck? Not sure why you’d want to hear it again, but -”

“No, not that, the other thing. The blackness, soul, stone thing.”

“I already tried explaining it to you and Bruce.” And she had, but they didn’t understand and Darcy was running out of ways to describe it. It was frustrating as all hell and only made her angry.

“Not to me. Explain it to Peter, slower and more detailed.”

Rolling her eyes, familiar with Tony’s odd requests by now, Darcy sighed, gaze swinging back toward Peter. “I see colors when I look at people. Someone suggested they were auras, but they’re not. Miss Cleo would say... wait, are you too young to know who I’m talking about when I say Miss Cleo?” At Peter’s blank look, Darcy ran a hand over her face. “For f*cks sake, you’re so young. Anyway. They’re not auras because when I see the colors, I don’t see anything else. Everything goes black except for the lights. And those lights are people’s souls.”

Peter crossed his arms over his chest, fidgeting but looking at her with interest. “And the lights, well, the souls, I mean, do they all look the same?”

“Kind of? They’re all about the same size, and I can read the same emotions in each of them pretty easily, those things seem to be universal. Anger’s orange, fear is yellow, red means they’re lying. But everyone has their own color, their soul color. Some might look the same at first glance, but when I really look at them, when I really dig deep into the thick of them, everyone has little things that make them stand out.”

“You can turn it off and on by blinking?”

“I couldn’t at first. Before they’d come and go on their own, even when I didn’t want them to. It’s taken me awhile to get the hang of things. Working with Bruce has helped a lot. I still slip from time to time, but it’s only when I’m upset, or scared. When I feel like I don’t have control.”

Peter nodded, “times when your limbic system is activated.”

Darcy had no real idea, but she’d quickly figured out Peter was crazy smart, just like Jane, and she nodded as if what he’d said made perfect sense. “When I stay too long in the blackness, though, I can feel everything getting bigger, more massive, and it’s harder to draw myself back from there. And the last time I did that did not go well.”

“Understatement of the year, Champ.”

“f*ck you, Tony.”

She could see Peter looking at her, but Darcy had a feeling he wasn’t really seeing her. His brain was working on a puzzle, that same look of concentration on his face that Jane could get. If he suddenly asked for poptarts, Darcy’d be convinced him and the astrophysicist were long lost siblings.

After what seemed like a silence that would stretch on forever, Peter turned toward Tony. “Do you have her scans?”

Tony waved his hand in the air, pulling up the scans he and Bruce had done weeks ago. As Peter and Tony stared at the images, Darcy rolled her eyes and crossed to the small fridge they kept in the lab. She grabbed a water for Peter (the kid could not live on energy drinks alone) and grabbed one for herself, too.

Tony could get his own damn drink.

When she got closer, she watched their rapid fire conversation, only understanding half of what they were saying. Recognizing a word Peter mentioned triggered a reaction in Darcy. “Jane called it that the first time I explained it to her.”

“What?”

“Synthesizer eyes.”

“Synesthesia,” Tony corrected, head co*cking to the side as he looked at her, rare seriousness in the brown of his eyes.

“Whatever, yeah. Um… retinal synesthesia.”

“That would make sense,” Peter turned around and pointed at a part of her brain that was lighting up. “Studies have been pretty inconclusive, but if her ability is agitated by strong emotions, it could be centered right there.”

Tony scratched at his beard, spinning slightly back and forth as he considered the problem. “We figured it was the mutant gene that allowed her to hold it all inside.”

“Mutant gene?”

Darcy’s eyes narrowed when Peter turned to her with an incredulous look on his face. “You’re really going to act like that that’s a shock when you can climb up f*cking walls?” He seemed to consider her question and shrugged his shoulders, turning back to the screen, and Darcy directed her glare toward Tony. “Could you maybe keep that bit to yourself?”

“The kid needs all the info if he’s going to help us.”

Both Peter and Darcy made noises at the same time.

“Help you do what?”

“You want my help?”

“Fresh eyes never hurt,” Tony said, with a nod in Peter’s direction. When Darcy sighed and crossed her arms over her chest, he took her lack of complaining as a sign to continue.

“So let’s lay this out. The first thing you ever really dealt with was the colors, and these only came on after you touched the stone. Because of your genetic mutation, you were able to absorb the stone. No one’s done that, the absorbing part. Yeah, Quill and the rest of the Space Friends were able to keep from vaporizing, but they didn’t absorb the stone. They were just able to handle it.”

Darcy watched as Tony rose and started pacing a bit. She’d gotten used to this part of Tony’s life, him being in a lab and doing his tech guy thing, so she knew that when he started to move around that it was useless to try and stop him. The man could turn that big brain of his off and on, but when it was on, it was really on.

“Right. You said that was likely the alien bit in me.”

Peter’s sound of choking was loud. “Wait, alien?”

“Yep.”

“No! Not alien. Mutant. Jesus, Lewis, I’m trying to help and you’re going to bust my balls?”

“I want absolutely nothing to do with your balls, asshat, so please continue.”

Tony took a deep breath before he started moving again. “So the mutation allowed you to absorb it, but that’s just part of your DNA. The rest of you is human, and the stone’s powers had to adapt to your body chemistry, your physiology, your human-ish brain. So it finds a way to interpret into abilities you can understand.”

“So maybe the stone altered her eyes?”

Shaking his head, Tony pointed toward the images still floating in the air nearby. “We ran tests on them, everything looks normal. All the same rods and cones.”

“But if the stone had to adapt physiologically, it might have had to create, um, like, new neural pathways in order for her to comprehend what she was seeing.”

Darcy was looking back and forth between the two of them, hoping at some point she’d understand something they were saying. She pushed a water bottle across the workstation toward Peter. “Drink.” He grabbed the bottle and drained it in one go. Damn but she was an awesome lab assistant.

“Friday! Get Bruce in here. Oh! And Foster.”

*

Three hours later, Darcy felt a hand cup her cheek. She blinked sleepily at Steve, who was kneeling next to the couch she’d passed out on, a smile climbing onto her lips at just the sight of him. “I was dreaming about you.” The soft grin he gave her made her stomach flip. f*cking hell, what a gorgeous man you are.

She’d looked so peaceful napping that he’d hated to wake her up, but it looked like the scientists were coming to some sort of conclusion, and Steve knew she’d want to be there for their explanation, just like he did. That Tony had called him at all was surprising, but he was thankful that the billionaire had sought him out so he could be there with Darcy.

“Don’t know how you were able to sleep through all of that,” Steve said with a nod toward the commotion behind him.

Darcy sat up enough to look over his shoulder. The Science Squad (as she’d come to call them in her head) was arguing quite loudly amongst each other; Bruce was shaking his head, glasses pulled from his face and gesturing toward the screen, Peter seemed to be making shadow puppets of some kind with his fingers (nothing that Darcy could decipher), and both Tony and Jane were speaking loudly at each other.

She turned back to Steve, one of the key players in her dream, eyes warming as she remembered the activities they’d been enjoying in her brain. “Yeah, I’ve gotten pretty good at filtering out the science speak. They start to sound like adults in Charlie Brown after a while.” The way Steve co*cked his head to the side, expression curious but unfamiliar, made Darcy’s heart grow three sizes. “Means it’s less words and more random, indecipherable noises.”

“Ah,” Steve said, not sure what he’d done to earn the look of wonder on her face, but happy that he’d been able to make her smile. Darcy had a great smile that filled her eyes when she was truly happy, and Steve found himself wanting to make her do it more. “I don’t really understand what they’re saying either.”

“Shall we find out together?”

Steve stood, grinning down at her as he held out a hand. “Okay.”

His hand was warm as he pulled her to her feet, and Darcy didn’t feel bad when she drew herself as close to him as she could, taking a deep breath as she looked up at him through her lashes. “Such a gentleman. Very different than what Dream Steve had been up to.” When his eyes sobered just the tiniest bit at her words, Darcy couldn’t help the smirk that turned her lips.

She pulled away from him reluctantly, coming to stand before the people who were arguing back and forth. Darcy clapped her hands and watched as the quartet turned to look at her, drawn out of their science bubble. “Okay, nerds. What have you figured out?”

“We’re going to need you to drink the kool-aid.” At Darcy’s slow raise of an eyebrow, Tony’s hand waved in the air before him. “We think if you drink a concoction of peptides, we can track them as they move along the new pathways your brain has created and hopefully that’ll give us a jumping off point on understanding how you access your powers, possibly make it so you can shut everything down before things get out of hand.”

“Like an on-off switch?” Steve had stepped up next to Darcy. Now that he knew how scared she was of what she could do, he wanted to know everything, maybe ways he could help her when it got to be too much. He didn’t know her like Bucky knew her, but he wanted to.

“More like a, uh, dimmer switch,” Bruce clarified. “Right now the pathways are either open or closed. They’re like veins, in a way. When you’re upset or scared, they open and pump at full max, synapses firing unchecked. If we could made a nano-cinch, figure out where the pathways are the most open -”

“We’d be able to dial them back down, lessen the effects.” At Darcy’s skeptical look, Tony shrugged his shoulders. “What? I’ve figured out harder stuff than this. I just didn’t put two and two together until you were talking to the kid.” Tony studiously ignored the sigh of frustration Peter tossed his way at the nickname.

Darcy gave him an incredulous look. “Tony Stark admitting he doesn’t know something?”

“It’s new science,” Steve said from her side. He watched Bruce’s gaze swing toward him, the tiniest expression of satisfaction on the scientist’s face as Steve referenced their conversation from months ago. “She’d be the first to undergo anything like this, right?” At their nods, he turned his attention to Darcy, trying to gauge her feelings. Luckily, she never seemed to have a problem voicing her opinions.

A mutant and a guinea pig? Perfect. Just perfect. Darcy frowned, not sure she understood enough of it yet. “Okay, so this would help me filter the colors, maybe make it so I could see both worlds at the same time?”

“Essentially. You’d have your normal sight, and over that would be laid the colors. It’d be a meld of the two.” At her blank expression, Jane tried to explain in easier terms. “You know how -”

“Instagram filters,” Peter interrupted, gesturing in Darcy’s direction. “It’d be like putting on an instagram filter, you’d see our world, and the colors, at the same time.”

Understanding bled into Darcy’s eyes. “Oooh, okay. So that way I wouldn’t be blind when I see the colors.”

“Exactly.”

Darcy looked from scientist to scientist. Amazingly, as much as they’d been arguing before, they all seemed to be pretty genuine in their belief that this could work.

“When you look at the colors now, you see nothing but them and blackness. That means you wouldn’t be able to see if someone was lifting a gun and shooting at you. This way you’d be able to use the additional data but still stay alert to your surroundings.”

When Darcy’s widened eyes looked over at him, Steve gave her an apologetic smile. “It’d make me feel better to know you wouldn’t be blindsided if something happened.”

That Steve was worrying about her well-being made emotion swell in Darcy’s chest as she smiled at him. The smile faltered, though, when she turned back to the scientists. “So I drink the kool-aid, you guys work on my dimmer switch and things are rosy. Perfect. Now what about me being able to move souls, feeling all the souls in the universe, and hearing the evil stone that wants me to destroy everything?”

Everyone gathered shared a look between themselves. Finally, and in the most elegant way possible, Tony answered her question.

“No f*cking clue.”

“Ngghh,” Bucky groaned, burying his face further into the pillow. He took a deep breath then lifted his head, squinting against the light shining in the window, attempting to focus on the blurred shape of Steve, who was framed in the sunlight at the end of their bed. “So early.”

Turing at the sound of Bucky’s whine, Steve smiled at the unkempt man still in bed. “I went for coffee with Nat and Clint.”

Shaking his head, Bucky rolled onto his back, covering his eyes with his arm. “You should get back in bed,” he groused, “we didn’t even get to sleep until… three? Four?”

Steve’s eyes lingered on Bucky’s chest, the sheets draped low across the other man’s hips, exposing the long line of his torso. It was a very attractive sight, and Steve took advantage of the moment to run his eyes over every delicious, naked inch of skin. “Three-thirty,” Steve hummed, glancing at the clock, watching at it changed to six thirty-six.

They’d spent last night in Darcy’s room, and though they’d had the TV on in the background, none of them had been paying attention to Chef Ramsay and his nightmare kitchens. The conversation had been easy, the three of them taking turns telling the other about their week. Between Darcy’s new role as Tony’s assistant and her work with Peter, Steve’s daily debriefs and staff review, and Bucky’s training schedule, it meant they were seeing each other less than they had before.

It was effortless, falling back into each other, and Steve couldn’t help but notice how comfortable he’d become around Darcy. It’d started slowly, once he’d accepted that he wanted to know her better, but it’d grown organically from there; her smile was familiar and he’d gotten well-acquainted with the sound of the laughter and her sarcastic, acidic wit.

… but it was more than that. Darcy would say something and, even though it’d come out of her mouth, it was so undeniably Bucky that he was nothing short of mystified. He’d fallen in love with the charm and charisma that oozed from Bucky, and seeing the same pouring from Darcy was indescribable. It went both ways, and Steve would never forget the face his lover had pulled after using the word ‘basic’ to describe the work ethic of one of his soldiers.

They’d started the night with dinner and before he knew it, it’d been three in the morning and they’d been talking for hours. Steve couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed that much. Darcy was an amazing storyteller, and recounting what she’d been getting up to in Tony’s lab was remarkably funny. Listening to Bucky needle her, knowing just what to say to make Darcy’s eyes narrow dangerously in this direction, Steve had found himself smiling so much his cheeks ached.

“Steve?” Watching Steve return from wherever his thoughts had just taken him curled Bucky’s lips into a grin. “Did you even sleep?” When Steve shook his head, Bucky sat up and flexed his fingers in the blond’s direction. The coffee mug was warm in his hands and he took a long sip from it before pinning Steve with a look. “Something wrong?”

“No. Just have a lot on my mind,” Steve answered, taking a seat at the foot of the bed, taking another drink of the slowly cooling coffee. He saw the frown Bucky threw in his direction, but he let it hang in the air.

He wasn’t sure how to explain to his best friend that he’d been meeting with Nat and Clint at least once a week, peppering them with questions. The answers they’d given were still percolating in his brain and he was doing his best to make sense of them, putting the puzzle pieces in place so he could see the big picture, maybe see the map a little more clearer.

Shaking his head, Steve held the coffee mug back to Bucky. “What do you make of the nano-cinch Tony and Bruce are proposing?”

The frown on Bucky’s face deepened. “I hate it, Steve. I hate the idea of them messing with her brain, even if they say it could help her.”

Bucky knew his particular history was coloring his opinion of what the scientists had come up with, but he couldn’t help the way it turned his stomach. It wasn’t enough that they were going to perform a procedure that no one had ever attempted before, they were also going to put a device in her brain. Even with everything he’d seen, what he knew what out there and the ridiculousness of it all, Bucky loathed the idea. He’d kept his mouth shut, however, letting Darcy form her own opinions. It was her body, after all, and Bucky had no right to tell her not to do it.

“I know, Buck,” Steve said, scooting closer to him on the bed. His best friend had done a good job of hiding his dislike last night, but Steve had caught it in the tightness of his lips, and the tension in his jaw. “I really think it’ll help. If it can keep her safe, if they can make sure she doesn’t go blind in a dangerous situation…”

Steve trailed off, thinking of the possibilities. Their lives were full of so much violence and fighting. Now that he sort of understood what happened with Darcy saw the colors, he was scared for her. If she went into the blackness in the middle of a fight, unable to see anything but dark and blobs of color, it would leave her vulnerable; weapons were unseen, jeopardies unknown, and though she might be able to see motive, the possibilities for harm were just too great.

He didn’t like the thought of her in danger.

“I know,” Bucky said with a sigh, watching the thoughts tumble behind Steve’s eyes, “I just don’t like the idea of our girl being messed with.”

Steve’s lips curled at the phrase our girl as it fell from Bucky’s worried mouth. “I know. Now get up, let’s go for a run.”

Bucky groaned as he threw the covers aside. “I can’t wait until Wilson gets back so I won’t have to go with you anymore.”

“Did you just say you can’t wait until Sam gets back?”

“Shut up, punk.”

Chapter 18: The Stranger The Better

Chapter Text

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to touch your butt.”

Darcy groaned from the floor, pushing a sweaty piece of hair out of her eyes as she glared up at her ‘physical combat’ trainer. “Apology not accepted,” she groused, rolling onto her knees as she ignored the stinging pain in her ass.

She was also ignoring the ache in her body from when she’d just been thrown around, as well.

Clint rolled his eyes and moved toward her. He hesitated for a moment, then carefully angled the front of his body away from Darcy before he offered his hand to her. “You’re getting better.”

“Liar,” Darcy sighed, grunting as the blond helped her climb to her feet. “You’re tossing me around like a sack of potatoes.”

She brushed her hands over her leggings, pulled her D.A.R.E. t-shirt down, and leveled a glare in Clint’s direction. Part of Darcy knew he was telling the truth, that she was starting to recognize when he would go to his right or left, able to anticipate what his next movement was, but she still didn’t feel she was making enough improvement.

“I literally have no reason to lie to you. You think I enjoy this?”

“Yes. Obviously. You’re a closet sad*st and derive enjoyment from other people’s misery.”

“That’s more my thing.”

Darcy jumped at the voice in her ear, so close and raspy. She spun, hazel eyes wide, hands coming up to block an attack, as if they’d do any good when she didn’t know how to use them. She hadn’t even heard anyone coming in, but there was Natasha, looking at Darcy critically, head co*cked to the side. “Jesus!”

Clint smiled, crossing his arms over his chest. “She really likes doing that to people. It’s hilarious.”

“More like terrifying,” Darcy growled, trying to slow her speeding heart. She’d thought they’d go undisturbed, but apparently she’d thought wrong. They were working in the gym that was the farthest away from the regular hustle and bustle of the compound; Darcy didn’t particularly enjoy the idea of soldiers who’d trained their whole lives laughing hysterically as she floundered at even basic self-defense.

“...I have notes.”

Snorting at Natasha, Clint made his way to the edge of the mat. “Oh, really? Here to criticize my training? You realize this is my job now, right?”

“Clint’s retired,” Natasha said as clarification to Darcy, the corner of her mouth curling upward, “mostly.”

Darcy rose an eyebrow as she watched the blond take a drink from his water bottle. “How is someone mostly retired?”

“I stay here and help half the time, the other half at home on the farm.”

Darcy was sure the amount of times she’d just blinked was some kind of world record. “Wait. Hold on. You’re a farmer? Seriously?” Natasha nodded as Clint shook his head. Looking between the two, Darcy’s eyes narrowed, her body tensing. “Is this… is this part of of the training? You confuse me and then attack?”

A thoughtful look crossed Natasha’s face at Darcy’s question, and she turned to look at Clint with an considering expression. “It’s not a bad idea.”

“I could use it in the next class I teach.”

“Provide a distraction, see how many people ignore their surroundings, take them to the mat.”

Darcy watched the rapid fire conversation between Natasha and Clint with suspicion. They were talking in shorthand, just like she could do with Jane, the type of thing that took years of friendship to cultivate. When Natasha’s shoulder lifted in a graceful shrug and she turned back to Darcy, the redhead pinned her with emerald green eyes.

“You should see him on a tractor.”

The laugh that escaped Darcy’s chest was loud in the room, echoing off the mats and mirrors. When neither of them seemed to join in, she looked back and forth between the pair. “I call bullsh*t.”

“You call wrong,” Clint said, tossing his water bottle at Darcy. She wasn’t ready for it and fumbled it between her hands, managing to catch it before it hit the ground. He snorted with laughter. “Anybody ever tell you you’re grace personified, Lewis?”

“You know what, Barton?” He took her comment in stride, shrugging his shoulders at Darcy, a smirk curling his lips. The smirk faded into a grimace as he took a seat. Good. Be sore, arrow-man. Be sore.

“He’s a farm boy, born and raised.” Natasha commented, taking a seat next to Clint on one of the benches that surrounded the mats. Darcy padded toward them as she took a large drink from his bottle, still unsure if they were f*cking with her or not.

Clint nodded his head. “Iowa, if you can believe it.”

Darcy’s nose crinkled. “The potato one?”

“No. That’s Idaho.”

“So it’s the one LeBron’s from?”

“No. That’s Ohio.”

Her memory of the continental United States had just been exhausted, so Darcy shrugged her shoulders. “I got nothing.”

“Whatever,” Clint said with a wave of his hand. “We farm, and I helped my dad when I was little. After he and Ma died in a car crash, me and my brother lived in a home before we ran away to the circus. I was just out of high school when S.H.I.E.L.D. recruited me. But I always wanted to have a farm of my own, so when one opened up nearby, I bit the bullet and bought it. My wife and kids live there. There are surprisingly good schools in the area. Very high test scores and ample after-school activities to help pad college applications.”

Darcy had just been hit with so much information that she found herself at a loss, not sure what to ask first. “I.. didn’t know you were in the system.”

Clint shrugged. “Briefly.”

Dropping to the floor, Darcy crossed her legs under herself, looking up at Clint like she knew him a little bit better. Kids who’d been in the foster care system tended to be a bit harder by necessity. Bowie only knew where she’d be if she hadn’t gotten used to goodbyes and the art of using sarcasm as a defense mechanism. A healthy assumption of disappointment was always helpful, too.

“I’m gonna table the comments about you being in a freaking circus, but I’ll want to revisit it at a later date. Preferably with alcohol and pictures.”

She watched Clint smile as she held out his water bottle, his fingers wrapping around it before sitting back beside Natasha. “No pictures, sorry.”

When he leaned down to grab a towel, Natasha turned to Darcy and give an almost imperceptible nod of her head. Oh, Darcy thought, there are totally pictures. “Fine. But the rest? Kids and wife and school?”

“It’s not well known, so I’d appreciate you keeping quiet. With everything… I try to keep them as separate as I can.”

Darcy nodded, “of course. I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

“Thanks. Figured you’d find out soon enough.”

Her eyebrows rose at his comment. “How’s that?”

“You, and Barnes, and Cap.” His words did nothing as an explanation, and Darcy knew a stupefied expression had found its home on her face. “The three of you working as a unit. We have a little experience with that whole situation. Steve’s asked -”

Clint jumped when Natasha’s elbow found purchase between two of his ribs. “Ow.”

Darcy’s eyes narrowed slightly as she looked between them, watching an entire conversation in their silence and glares. “What did Steve ask about?“

Another round of looks. Finally, Natasha seemed to relent and turned toward Darcy with an unreadable look on her face. “When Clint is here, he stays with me. When we’re at the farm, we’re with Laura.”

“Oh.” Darcy’s face blossomed with understanding her her eyes widened. "Oh!” Darcy’s voice louder came out louder than she’d meant it to be, and she looked at the two of them apologetically. “I didn’t realize.”

“Again, not something we really put out there.”

Darcy nodded, sure her cheeks were tinting pink, “and that’s also something that I won’t tell anyone.”

“We appreciate that,” Clint said, flipping the towel so it rested over his shoulder. “Cap’s just been asking questions on how we handle things.”

So Captain America has been talking to Hawkeye and Black Widow about how their trio relationship with Hawkeye’s secret wife works, because he’s in a trio relationship with a mutant and a ex-brainwashed assassin.

When did your life get this f*cked up, Lewis? Oh right. When you grabbed the pretty glowing stone of death in a monumentally stupid moment of naive bravery.

“Ah. Cool. Cool, cool, cool. No doubt, no doubt. Makes sense. Sure. Yeah.”

“You know, I hear you saying that, but somehow I’m not convinced.”

Darcy gestured at Clint, her hand spinning through the air as if she could direct the words so they’d come out correctly. “I know people know about us, the three of us, Steve, Bucky and me, I mean, because we haven’t been exactly clandestine about it, but I’ve been so busy just trying to get Steve to at least like me that I haven’t really worried about anything past that. So I feel bad because he’s being smart about it and gaining real knowledge on how to deal with everything, and the only thing I’ve been doing is trying to get in his pants.”

They were silent, Natasha’s face a careful mask, Clint looking at her with amusem*nt on his lips, and Darcy could feel the heat rising to her cheeks at her verbal vomit. When Clint held out his water bottle to her again, she took it gratefully and downed the rest.

“You good?”

Darcy nodded in Clint’s direction, sarcasm wetting her tongue. “Mmmhmmm, peachy.” She looked between the two ex-spies, the comfort in the way their bodies touched from knee to shoulder. It wasn’t obvious, but she could see it, and when she blinked again, she saw it in vivid technicolor.

The deep purple of Clint’s soul was like warmth boiled down to a color, like plums and blackberries mixed together. Natasha’s was a deep pumpkin, with the same hints of black on her edges that Bucky had. It made sense, knowing their history. She reminded Darcy of Halloween, like the last warm day of autumn before the whisper of winter blew across your skin. And between them both, just like Steve and Bucky shared cobalt, Natasha and Clint both bled onto each other in buttercream, in a soft yellow that was a contrast to the violet of Clint but a compliment to Natasha. Like silky sunshine.

“You’re glowing.”

At Natasha’s words, Darcy blinked back into the gym, looking down at her hands in alarm, discouraged that all her hard earned control had slipped so easily. Her skin was its same pale pink, however, and she looked up in confusion. “Where?”

“Not where. When. When you talk about Steve or Bucky, it fills your eyes.” Much like their last meeting in the laundry room, something about the redhead’s tone made what she said seem like a warning. Not that she’d do anything to Darcy, but that the love she felt for her boys could be dangerous.

“What Nat is trying to say is that Cap is asking the questions, gathering intel. It’s what he’s good at. And once he has that intel, he’ll be able to plan his next step.”

Darcy was at a loss, surprise lighting her features as she considered everything that had transpired in the last hour, from getting her ass given to her handedly by Clint, to this loveline session with Black Widow and Hawkeye. She shook her head, turning the water bottle in her hands, fidgeting. “This has got to be the weirdest conversation I’ve ever had, and I’ve had to explain toilet paper to Thor.”

She could have sworn she heard a soft laugh from Natasha, but she couldn’t tell with the volume of Clint’s cackle as it echoed off the walls of the gym. “Oh my god, this I gotta hear!”

Darcy’s eyes were on the tablet in her hand as she leaned back against Tony’s office door, pushing it open with her ass. “Hey, Chrome Dome, the kid says we need more micro-accelerators for the upgrade but from my inventory we have...”

Her words faded as she realized Tony wasn’t there. However, there was a very pretty strawberry-blonde in a crisp yellow blouse sitting behind Tony’s desk, her warm eyes glancing up at Darcy as she barged in unannounced. Her voice was soft but commanding as she smiled. “He’ll be right back. He just went to check on something.”

Pepper Potts. This was Pepper Potts. The Pepper Potts. She was meeting the head of Stark Industries while wearing a ratty Sex Pistols tee, spotted with grease from when she’d been cleaning Dum-E. Great first impression, Lewis. Maybe next you could wear one of those fake tuxedo t-shirts to meet the president.

“Ah. Well, I can come back -” She jutted a thumb over her shoulder and toward the door.

Pepper came to her feet, waving her hand softly in Darcy’s direction. “No, it’s fine, really. I’ve been bugging Tony about getting to meet his new intern but he keeps brushing me off.”

“I’m not his intern,” Darcy said, popping the word ‘intern’ like it was a dirty word. f*ck, she was going to kick his shiny metal ass if he told anyone else that she was an intern. Darcy realized the sting her words had carried, definitely not directed at the pretty woman in front of her. and did her best to cover it with an explanation. “Not that you’d know that, of course. I’m his executive assistant. Among other things.”

Pepper rounded the desk, heels clicking smartly on the floor. Darcy blinked. Those we the kind of heels men died for. They probably cost as much as a house. Or a small island. The kind of heels Darcy would have broken her neck wearing, but f*ck would they make her a pretty, pretty corpse.

“I’m Pepper Potts, and you must be Darcy Lewis.”

“On my better days.” Darcy shifted the tablet in her arm and shook Pepper’s outstretched hand, “and you’re the glutton for punishment that puts up with Stark.”

“On my better days,” Pepper repeated, a smile lighting her eyes. She seemed to give Darcy a quick once-over before her gaze softened. “I can’t pretend to know everything that happened, but if what Tony tells me is even remotely true, then I suppose I have you to thank for him coming home after that battle.”

Yet another thing Darcy wanted people to stop saying about her. “People like to exaggerate.”

Pepper pursed her lips as she looked down at the dark-haired younger woman. “Tony said you grabbed one of those stones, and because you’re a mutant, you killed the purple alien that wanted to destroy the galaxy..”

Darcy’s breath left her chest in a huff of laughter. “Okay, maybe he didn’t exaggerate.”

Smiling, Pepper’s eyes filled with compassion. “He also says you’ve been dealing with the aftermath and it’s been a bit touch and go. If there’s anything that Stark Industries can do -”

Rushing to cut off whatever Pepper was about to offer her, Darcy shook her head and gave the taller woman a dismissive wave of her hand. “Trust me, outfitting my wardrobe and buying me a comforter that actually comforts was more than enough for me.”

Confusion colored Pepper’s face at Darcy’s words. “... buying you a what?”

Darcy spun when she heard the door open behind her, pinning Tony with a glare as he strode into the office. “Why are you telling people that I’m your intern?”

“Have I? I don’t remember. I see you’ve met Pepper.”

Darcy glared at the man as he made his way further into the room. “Yes, and three seconds after meeting her I realized she’s way too good for you.”

“It took you that long?” Tony grinned at Darcy before leaning in to press his lips to Pepper’s cheek. “Sorry. I got it all cleared up so we’re good to go.”

Darcy frowned. “Good to go where? I didn’t know you were leaving. Sounds like something you should have mentioned to your executive assistant.”

Tony sighed, turning his attention back to Darcy. “Contrary to popular belief and the fact that I pay for everything, I don’t actually live here. And it’s the weekend, so I’m taking my weekend. You’re my personal assistant, Lewis. Assist me by getting out of my face.”

“It’s executive assistant, asshole, now sign this so Peter gets what he needs.” Darcy thrust the tablet toward him. Tony glanced at it for a second before his brown eyes flicked up to her again.

“I don’t like people handing me things.”

Darcy blinked once, twice, then let the tablet drop from her hands. It hit the carpet and bounced slightly, coming to rest inches from Tony’s feet. She watched Pepper’s eyes widen before Darcy nodded in Tony’s direction. “Well, hopefully you like picking things up off the ground.”

At his look of surprise, Darcy turned toward Pepper with a genuine smile on her face. “It was lovely to meet you, Ms. Potts. I hope you enjoy your weekend, in spite of the company sharing your time.” Darcy rose a daring eyebrow at Tony before she made her way out of the office.

As the door to the office swung closed, Tony sighed and bent over, grabbing the tablet from the floor. He inspected it for damage, his lips turning down.

Pepper turned to him with a smile on her face. “I like her.”

“Don’t.”

“I’m not saying you’re wrong.”

“Good.”

“You’re just… not entirely right.”

Sighing, Steve leaned forward onto the conference table with his elbows, brain still trying to solve this problem. He shook his head, flipping through the file in front of him. “I don’t like it, Nat. I don’t like it at all.”

“You don’t need to like it, Steve, but you have to admit that the possibilities are there, and if we put her on the roster -”

Unable to sit still any longer, Steve climbed to his feet. “Despite the handful of sessions with Clint, she has no formal training. Putting her out there would be dangerous.”

Natasha sighed, keeping her voice even. “We did the same with Wanda and Pietro. They had no training. We gave them training in the field, and after.” Using Pietro as an example wasn’t the best reference, but it was true, regardless of how it’d ended.

Steve shook his head and turned toward Natasha with his arms crossed over his chest. “That was different. They had real powers.”

“So does Darcy,” Natasha argued, able to see the heavy doubt and stubbornness in Steve’s eyes. “Being able to see where someone is in real time? Able to move targets like Wanda? We’ve just scratched the surface of what she could really do.”

“Darcy is not Wanda, or you, or Clint. She’s… softer. She doesn’t think like us. It’s not a battle every day for her, she’s not looking to plan out her next mission. Does everyone we come into contact with have to become a fighter? Some people weren’t made to be soldiers.”

Steve sighed, shaking his head as he looked down at his feet. He remembered having this same argument with Tony years ago, but somehow he’d ended up on the billionaire’s side of the road. At the time it’d been war, the threat imminent, and they’d needed all the firepower they could get. It was different now. Things were better. There were no battles on the horizon.

Sighing, Natasha sat back in her chair, green eyes softening when she saw Steve lean heavily on the table. She stood, moving slowly until she was standing beside him, close enough to rest a hand on his arm. “It’s harder because you care about her.”

Steve frowned as he looked over at her. “I care about all of my team. I don’t want to see any of you get hurt.”

“I know that. I’ve served under a lot of men, and none of them cared half as much as you do.” She paused, watching as Steve’s eyes flicked over to look at her, judging her words for truth. It was there, in her eyes, and Steve nodded before looking away again. “I’m not saying tomorrow, or next week, or even next month. I’m saying maybe. Maybe she’d want to help.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Steve breathed, shaking his head, casting his blue gaze toward the artificial window and the forest it framed. He’d seen Darcy’s bravery first hand, the day she’d grabbed that stone, the day his entire life had tilted into something different. “If anything happened to her…” He trailed off, eyes flicking back to Natasha. “I don’t know what Bucky would do. The bond they share? It might break him.”

Natasha’s hand dropped from his arm, turning so she sat back against the table, arms crossing. “No more than it would break him to lose you. It’s not ‘you and them,’ Steve. It’s her, and you, and Bucky. The two of them might share a bond, but that doesn’t put them on one side of a line and you on the other. It’s not a competition. It’s an alliance. Don’t make it into something it’s not just because you don’t understand it yet.”

It went silent in the room for a second before Steve’s mouth lifted in a rueful smile. “I thought we’d put a stop to you meddling in my lovelife.”

“And I thought you’d decided to let yourself have something good without worrying about how it was all going to fade away.”

“I guess neither of us are good at following orders.”

“Guess not.”

He chuckled softly before he fell silent again, worry sobering his gaze. It took him a moment, but Steve looked over at Natasha, his eyes doubtful and apprehensive. “She’s not like us, Nat.”

She gave him a light shrug, so graceful and nuanced, a small smile joining the gesture. “Maybe that’s what you and Bucky need.”

“You wanted to see me?”

Darcy’s eyes widened when the person who spun around in Maria Hill’s office chair was not Maria Hill. Very much not her. Like, the farthest from Maria Hill that Darcy could imagine. This man had dark skin and a black eye patch that made her immediately think of a BDSM pirate, considering all the leather he was wearing.

“It seemed like it was high time that I met the woman who defeated the most dangerous creature in the galaxy.”

Darcy frowned at the man. “I really wish people would stop saying sh*t like that. I didn’t defeat the dick. The stone did. And the more I learn about this f*cking stone, the less it seems like I had anything to do with it at all.”

“That’s not what my intel said.”

Her eyes narrowed as she looked around the room. She didn’t know who this was, but he was in the director’s office, and the director wasn’t here. Darcy fingers flexed at her sides, Clint’s voice echoing at the back of her mind to be aware of her surroundings. “I was told the director needed to see me, and you are definitely not Ms. Hill.”

Especially since I don’t want to murder you with my mind. Yet.

“Nothing gets past you, does it? I guess you could say that the director and I go way back. She knows I’m in here, meeting with you. No use lying to you, right? You’d be able to tell.”

Sighing, Darcy looked up toward the ceiling. Bowie save her from people who liked to talk in cryptic double-speak. “If you could just tell me who the f*ck you are, that’d be great.”

The man circled the desk, coming closer to her. “Why don’t you just draw on the Winter Soldier’s memories? He knows who I am.”

Darcy’s face wiped of any emotion as she blinked at him, a ball of anger beginning to form in her chest at the look on the man’s face. “He’s not the Winter Soldier anymore. You should be careful about throwing that name around. Especially with me.”

The man smiled and held up his hands. “Hey, I’m not trying to start anything. Just getting a read on you. I thought there’d been a full transfer of memories between you two.”

“Your ‘intel’,” she made quotes marks in the air with her fingers, “was right, but I’m testing this new thing where I try not to draw on his memories unless absolutely necessary.”

“That’s smart. He’s done a lot of things that would make even the strongest men’s knees give out.”

The smile that climbed onto Darcy’s lips was not friendly. “Well it’s a good thing I’m not a man, then, isn’t it?”

The man laughed, surprised and deep, before he nodded his head in her direction. “Point made. My name is Nick Fury.”

Darcy’s eyes widened. “sh*t, really?”

She didn’t need to draw on Bucky’s memories to recognize that name. She’d spent several nights perusing the S.H.I.E.L.D. files (or, at least, the ones she had clearance to read) and this was the man who’d started it all. Well, the man who’d brought the Avengers together before the battle of New York. There’d been no pictures of him in the files though, most likely scrubbed for safety reasons.

“Really.”

“What the f*ck are you doing here? Didn’t you retire, head into the undying lands, punch your last time card or whatever it is you guys do when you stop showing up to work?”

“I might not be the director, but I’ve still got interest in knowing what’s going on around here.”

“Do they know that?”

He rose his eyebrow at her. “Which ‘they’ are you referring to? The Avengers? Hill? The government?”

Darcy frowned. “D. All of the above.”

“Hill knows I’m here. I check in periodically with the team, when it’s needed. As far as the government? Let’s say we’re not on really good speaking terms right now.”

“Yeah. It’s been a bit since everything crashed and burned at the Triskelion. Literally crashed and burned. And for the record, that I remember very clearly.”

Any of the memories that involved Steve, whether Bucky’d been himself or the Winter Soldier at the time, were etched in Darcy’s mind with crystal clarity. Those were the ones that she didn’t need to call forth, they were always there, the emotions so pure and strong that it took nothing to remember them.

That particular day, the uncertainty in Bucky, as the Soldier fought to understand what he was feeling, why his hand paused, why he didn’t complete his mission…

“Not exactly something I’ll forget either.” She watched Fury’s eye narrow and fill with a hardness. Not at her, but at whatever he was remembering. I suppose finding out you’d been infiltrated by the enemy all the way up to the top could make someone a little cranky.

When he stayed quiet for a while, Darcy shifted her weight from one leg to the other, feeling uncomfortable. “Cool, nice to meet you, or whatever, did you need something from me, or…”

“No. We’re good.”

“Are you sure? Because, if you need something…”

“We’re good, Lewis. Thanks for coming in.”

Darcy was already gone, the door closing shut behind her before she stuck her head back in. “It just seems… in the narrative of this story, that this meeting was kind of pointless. You’re not my boss, not my boss’ boss, not my boss’ boss’ boss’, I mean I could go on…”

“You know, Hill warned me that you were like him, but I had to see it for myself.”

“Like who?”

“Stark.”

“Ew.” Darcy’s nose crinkled with distaste for a second before she smirked to herself. “Oh, he’s going to hate hearing that. Thank you,” she said to Fury, lifting a hand giving him a mock salute before she disappeared.

Chapter 19: Fear

Chapter Text

“We’ve had this fight before.”

“Yeah, but you still refuse to admit you’re wrong, so we’re going to have it again.”

“Darce, help me out here.”

Darcy shook her head at Steve from where she was laid back on their bed, a book in hand as they watched a completely boring game of baseball on the TV. “Oh, no. I’m not going near that with a ten foot pole.”

“It’s because she knows I’m right,” Bucky said with a smirk, “and she doesn’t want to see you make sad puppy eyes because they make her knees go weak.”

Steve’s lips curled into a smile, reaching behind them to squeeze Darcy’s foot with his hand. She jerked her foot away from his touch with a strangled sound, glaring at him over the top of her book. The knowledge that she was incredibly ticklish along her arches had been a nugget of knowledge he'd discovered a few movie nights ago. “That true?”

“Yes. Puppy eyes. Much sad. How blue.”

When both men just looked at her, Darcy sighed and laid the book down on her lap. They’d had this fight the week prior. It seemed to her like it was a fight neither of them really cared about, that they just liked to needle at each other, like some kind of one-up foreplay. It was hot, so she’d indulge, but in the meantime she’d actually looked up the facts and had them at her disposal.

“The Brooklyn Dodgers faced the Yankees in 1941. The Yankees won,” she rolled her eyes as both boys groaned in anger, “the fourth game because of Hugh Casey’s strike out of Mickey Owens.”

“See?” Steve said with a look of vindication lighting his features as he turned toward Bucky. “Who’s wrong now, jerk?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky said, shaking his head at the blond’s smirk. He glanced over his shoulder at Darcy. “How’d you know the answer, doll?”

“There’s this little thing called the internet. You should check it out. It’s got all this stuff… but, you know, now that I think about it, maybe you’re both too old to understand how to use it.” Darcy grabbed the book from her lap and used it to hide her face - and the curl of her lips - from both of them.

Bucky’s gaze shifted from the now hidden Darcy to Steve, one dark eyebrow raising. “She called us old.”

“We are old, pal.”

“Too old, though? Are we too old, Steve?”

“I’ve still got a little fight in me,” Steve answered with a grin.

They both jumped toward Darcy at same time, hearing her squeal of laughter as they bounced onto the bed on either side of her. The book in her lap went flying as she began snorting with laughter, their fingers digging into her sides. Darcy slapped at their hands uselessly, surrounded by them with no hope of escape. She tried, though, attempting to roll herself over Steve and off the bed. Bucky’s arm around her middle pulled her back and she laughed breathlessly as they worked together to keep her near.

Darcy was all pink cheeks and dark curls, her laughter echoing off the walls, and Bucky couldn’t help the feeling of happiness that settled over him. Her laughter was joined by Steve’s, pitched lower and less manic, but it was there. It’d become so rare that Bucky had almost forgotten what it sounded like, but over the last few months with Darcy - feeling so good, and right and perfect - he’d heard Steve’s laugh with regularity.

He wasn’t sure what it was about Darcy that made everything so light, but Steve couldn’t express how good it felt. She made him have joy, even if it sometimes felt like he’d forgotten how. Having a tickle fight? It was childish, and juvenile, and if you’d told him a few months ago that he’d be having one with Bucky and a woman who looked at him like he’d hung the moon? He’d have called you crazy. But here he was, looking into the laughing faces of his best friend and the woman who’d become a regular part of his day.

She was sarcastic, and strong, and somehow he was able to ignore the weight on his shoulders and just… be. He’d spent so long fighting, struggling, always ready for the next battle, always preparing for the next fight. He’d thought that was his life, that it’d always stay the same.

… but maybe he’d been wrong.

Thanos was dead. The people he cared about were safe. The world wasn’t about to end. Maybe Natasha was right. Maybe he needed to let himself enjoy something good.

Darcy’s laughter subsided as the three of them became a heavily breathing pile on Steve and Buckys bed, everyone’s hair just a bit askew, cheeks pink with exertion. Sighing happily, Darcy laid out on her side, pulling Bucky’s arm until she could press her back to him and use his bicep as a pillow. She blinked as Steve settled himself, until she could look into his pretty blue eyes from a few inches away. “Did you go to a lot of games?”

“We didn’t go in a lot, tickets were kinda out of our price range,” Bucky said, his chest rumbling against Darcy’s back. He fit his chin against her shoulder, smiling softly at Steve. “But we did get to one that year. Dodgers and the Phillies.”

“Did we win?”

Something about the way she asked if ‘we’d’ won had a smile curling Steve’s lips. If she wanted to, she could pull on Bucky’s memory to know the answer, but she didn’t. Darcy wanted him to tell her. It was endearing, and the expression on his face was sincere. “We did. Five runs in the sixth.”

“Go Brooklyn!”

When Steve laughed, Darcy’s grin grew in size. So much had been happening lately that things were starting to blend together. Between her work with Peter and Tony, the work the Science Squad was doing on her dimmer switch, and the slow work of combat training with Clint, Darcy was feeling stretched thin. She was ecstatic for her down time, as it meant being with the two men sharing the bed with her, and even though they’d been careful not to let things go too far, just being able to touch them calmed the chaotic feeling in her chest.

Steve had seen the ramp up of anxiety on her face over the past week, and seriousness bled into his eyes as he blinked at her. “Are you worried about tomorrow?”

When Bucky’s arms tightened around her, Darcy patted his arm and looked at a spot on Steve’s chest, not wanting him to see the very real fear in her eyes. “It’ll be easy peasy lemon squeezy.” When neither of them laughed at her words, she risked a glance at Steve, seeing the empathy in his beautiful eyes. “I’m terrified,” she whispered, wishing they could have stayed weightless for just a little while longer.

“We’ll be there with you, Darcy,” Bucky said, pressing his lips to her hair.

“What if I didn’t want you there?” She could see the frown as it flowed onto Steve’s face, lips pulling downward, his eyebrows knitting together. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Tony’s ready this time.” His words sounded more confident than he really was, but Steve didn’t like the doubt that had started to bleed into her eyes. He really did believe Tony would do anything to keep her safe. She may have formed a bond with Bucky, but she’d done the same with the abrasive billionaire genius, without the aid of any stone. He didn’t entirely understand it, but he could see the care Tony had for her. The same went for Bruce.

… and now that Steve really thought about it, most of the people Darcy came in contact with seemed to have forged strong friendships with her. Clint, Peter. Even Natasha, in some ways. Absently, Steve wondered if she’d had the same kind of relationships before she’d absorbed the infinity stone. Had the stone given her some sort of power? Something inside Darcy that drew people to her, made them want to protect her? Was it some kind of defense mechanism of the cosmic gem?

Bucky observed a train of thought pass behind Steve’s eyes, watching as the blond grew more and more serious. He wasn’t sure what had just happened, but he noticed a definite shift in demeanor in the man across from him. Deciding to leave it, Bucky chose to focus on Darcy, her fear, and what he could do to ease it. “If you don’t want us there, if that’s what you really want -”

“No,” Darcy said with a sigh, her eyes falling closed, her throat tightening, “I do want you there, I do. If I hurt either of you, though…”

Pushing his thoughts about the stone aside, Steve reached out and grabbed Darcy’s hand, threading his fingers with hers. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but we’re kind of harder to kill than most people.”

Darcy’s eyes widened. “Hey, don’t you put that bad juju in the air, Steven Grant Rogers!” When he smiled softly at her stern look, Darcy felt herself smiling in return. “... I just don’t want to lose control. I’m trying this new thing where I reign myself in. I’m not sure if it’ll stick.”

Bucky’s arms squeezed Darcy, pulling her back against him tighter, the lines of their bodies like one. “Sometimes losing control can be a good thing.”

Darcy watched Steve’s eyebrows come together at Bucky’s words. There was something behind his eyes, something she couldn’t place, but she didn’t want to see it taint the gorgeous cerulean any longer. Her hand reached up, thumb pressing lightly, attempting to smooth the frown crinkle between his eyebrows with the pad of her finger. “Just promise me you won’t do anything stupid if something goes wrong.”

“Pretty sure we’re already on Team Stupid’s active roster,” Steve said softly as Darcy’s hand fell away from his face. Looking at both Bucky and Darcy, so close, pressed together, just inches away…

Whatever doubts he’d been thinking about previously seemed to melt away as he peered into their eyes. Hazel and Slate. Warm, and inviting, and so pretty together. All he’d need to do to close the distance between them was lean forward, just a breath away. So close. So simple. Easy peasy, just like Darcy’d said.

“Ma’am, Boss wanted me to remind you about your pre-testing appointment in five minutes.”

Oh, for the love of Bowie!

The voice of the A.I. had burst whatever bubble they’d been living in, reality crashing down around them. Steve gave Darcy a small smile before he sat up, then slipped off the bed and to his feet. Darcy deflated against Bucky, feeling the same frustration tense his body, too. Following Steve’s lead, she climbed to her feet with a sigh and began to pull her shoes on.

Bucky stayed on the bed, his head falling back against the pillow. “You think you’ll make it back to us tonight?”

Loving the way that sentence sounded - back to us - Darcy gave Bucky a sad shrug. “Not sure how long the tests are going to take. Depends on what they want to run, and knowing Tony? Probably all of them. All of the tests.”

“But you’ll come get us tomorrow? Before?”

The genuine worry of Steve’s question was going to tear her apart, and as she blinked at him, Darcy seriously debated asking them to stay away. As the blond held her gaze, steady and comforting, she couldn’t bring her to do so, even as a large part of her tightened with fear. “Yeah, I’ll grab you on the way.”

Steve closed the distance between them, hesitating for a second before he pulled Darcy in for a hug. She answered immediately, arms circling his waist and squeezing, tight enough that he felt her shoulders lift into a sigh. “We’ll be there for you, Darce. Promise.”

When Bucky’s body pressed against her too, she was left sandwiched between both men, taking comfort in the feel of their bodies against hers, warm and reassuring. Before she could stop herself (or before Steve could stop her), Darcy rose on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his. It was chaste, and over in a second, but it still left her heart racing and the blood rushing through her body in double time.

Steve’d been caught off guard, unable to respond in any way other than to blink in surprise, and he could only watch as she turned and pressed a kiss to Bucky’s lips as well, longer but not by much. She made a beeline for the door, throwing them both a small, tight smile before she pulled the door shut behind her.

“I’m going to die of exsanguination.”

Tony rolled his eyes as he watched Bruce draw Darcy's blood. "Oooh, big word. Was it on your ‘word of the day’ calendar?” He ignored the hand gesture Darcy made in his direction. “And that's a bit over dramatic, isn't it? It's just blood."

"Sure. Okay. Just blood. Just the very essence of life that is required for humans to survive. Just that."

"Good thing you're not a real human, mutant."

Darcy's eyes narrowed at the tech genius. "Then doesn't that make you a cyborg?"

Tony reached up and tapped his chest. "Not anymore, sweetheart."

"A reformed cyborg. You hear that, Doc? A reformed cyborg."

Bruce hummed, focus on the needle in her arm and the task he was completing. Darcy sighed and laid back on the table, her right arm squeezing and un-squeezing the stress ball Bruce had given her. As some kind of joke, Tony had tacked up a poster of the universe above the table she was intimately familiar with, including a little post-it note that said 'you are here' with an arrow pointing toward the middle of the jumble of stars.

"Are you, uh, worried about tomorrow? Lift your arm and put pressure here."

Darcy glanced over at Bruce as he pulled the needle from her skin. She held the bandage and lifted her arm to stop any residual bleeding, giving him a soft shrug. "Yes. I'm terrified, but that's pretty much par for the course around here, isn't it?"

Somewhere along the lines she'd gotten comfortable enough with these two men that she could admit her insecurities, her fears and hopes. It’d snuck up on her, but she found herself really caring about these people, despite only knowing them for such a small amount of time. She’d always had problems forming lasting friendships with others, a side effect of the turmoil of her upbringing, but these people in this place? It was starting to feel like home.

Giving her a reassuring smile, Bruce crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the side of the table she was laid out on. "If everything goes as expected -"

"And it will," Tony interrupted.

"- then we'll just work on what abilities we know. No, um, pushing it. Just simple stuff,"

"No offense, Doc, but nothing to do with this f*cking stone is simple."

Tony shrugged his shoulders and scratched at his chin. "Bruce is right. We’re just working with what we know. Your eyes, and now, the newest kid on the block: soul shoving.”

Darcy’s nose crinkled. “That’s a horrible name.”

“Soul pushing?” Bruce offered, chuckling when Tony made a sound of dislike from behind him.

“Oh! I thought of something for your eyes,” Tony said, snapping his fingers. Both Darcy and Bruce watched as he rolled across the floor in his chair toward a desk on the opposite side of the medical lab.

“You got the dimmer switch done?” Darcy sat up straighter, a hopeful smile on her face. It faded when Bruce gave her an apologetic shake of his head.

“Not yet. We’re close, though.”

“Harumph,” Darcy said, sighing heavily but giving Bruce an indulgent smile as Tony flew back toward them, stopping short and handing her a sheet of paper. She blinked at it, hazel eyes narrowing as they flicked up to him. “What the f*ck is this?”

“I named your power.”

When Bruce reached out to grab the paper, Darcy gave it up happily. “You don’t get to just name my powers, you ass.”

“What, you just wanted to keep calling them your 'kaleidoscope eyes'?”

“Well, I didn’t before, but now that you think you get to name them? Yeah, I kinda do.”

“It’s not a horrible name for that, uh, particular power.”

Darcy was glad that Bruce at least tried to look sorry that he’d backed Tony’s play. She turned back to Tony with a heavy glare. “Synthwave Inference? Like some kind of early 80s pop vocal duo?”

“Hey, it’s less of a mouthful than ‘retinal synesthesia’,” Tony said with a gesture in her direction. “‘Oh no, my synthwave is acting up!’ See? So much better.”

“‘Oh, my Hall and Oates always aches when it’s about to storm!’ Same thing, jackass.”

“Fine, you come up with something then. Let’s hear it. So ahead and throw out those million dollar ideas.”

“Maybe I will!”

“Then do it!”

“Okay!”

As Tony crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair and looking at her expectantly, Darcy’s mind ran in circles, trying to come up with something better, something cooler, something that really popped.

After several seconds of silence, Darcy opening her mouth to say something only for the words to die on her lips before they’d even been uttered, she gave him an annoyed glare. “I’ll think of something better, I just need a few minutes to think.”

“Mmmmhmmm,” Tony said, turning his back to her and Bruce as he pulled up the scans they’d taken earlier.

“You know what he’s doing, right?”

Darcy glanced over at Bruce’s soft words, then back to Tony. “Looking at my most recent MRI?”

“Not that. I mean, uh, the whole naming thing.”

“What is: Drive me up a f*cking wall for $800, Alex?”

Bruce chuckled as he labeled vials with her information. “He’s trying to keep your mind off everything else. If you’re annoyed at him, maybe you won’t have time to be scared.”

Watching Tony drink another espresso before talking in rapid-fire sentences to Friday, Darcy sighed. She did know what the tech genius was doing, and she was grateful, but Bruce was wrong; she had the ability to be utterly annoyed with Tony Stark while still quaking with fear at the prospect of everything that could go wrong tomorrow.

“You really think it’s going to be easy tomorrow? Just… big badda boom?”

“I have no idea that meant, but no, I don’t think it’ll be easy.”

Darcy turned to him with a knowing look on her face, a small smile at the corner of her mouth. “Not easy but I have to do it anyway?”

“You catch on pretty quick, kiddo.”

Darcy’s head co*cked to the side, her hazel eyes narrowing dangerously at the scientist. “Really, Doc? Really?”

Bruce shook his head, looking down at his feet, an unpleasant look on his face. “You know, it felt wrong as I said it, as I heard the words leave my mouth.”

“It was so wrong.”

“But Tony’s always got names for you, I, uh, thought I’d try it out, give it a shot.”

“No. Please be the sane one here, please. It can’t be us, it’s gotta be you.” The small smile Bruce sent in Darcy’s direction made her laugh, smile sobering a bit when he reached out to squeeze her shoulder.

“You’re going to be fine.”

When Darcy’s eyes flicked up, the reassuring smirk on Bucky’s face did little to calm the butterflies that were slam dancing in her stomach. Fluttering? No. The bastards were at a rock concert and were making a pit, complete with a circle of death and elbows being thrown in faces. Mayhem. The butterflies in her stomach were wracking her in absolute chaos.

“We’re going to be right here,” Steve said, squeezing her hand. Her fingers were freezing, but her palm was clammy with sweat. He could feel the slight tremors in her body, see the fear in her eyes, and he wished he knew what to say to make her feel better. He looked over at Bucky, feeling utterly useless.

Bucky pulled on her hand, until Darcy stood directly in front of him. He ran his hands up and down her arms, shaking her a little from side to side. “We’ve been through worse than this, doll.”

“I know.”

“This is nothing compared to everything else.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you even listening to what I’m saying?”

“Absolutely not,” Darcy said with a shake of her head, “never do.”

“Then you’re smarter than me by miles,” Steve said, a thrill of success ringing through him when she glanced in his direction and smiled, even if it didn’t completely fill her eyes.

“Darcy, look at me.” When Darcy’s eyes swung back to him, Bucky dipped his chin, leaning forward so she could see nothing but the grey of his eyes. “I love you.”

“I know.”

“You got this.”

“Okay.”

“You gonna throw up?”

“Yep.”

Darcy managed to make it the garbage before she gagged. When nothing came up but bile (she hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday at breakfast, lying to both Bruce and Tony when she’d said she’d eaten dinner the night before), she sighed, grabbing the napkin when Bucky held it out. After wiping her mouth and taking a large drink of water from the bottle Steve handed her, Darcy took a deep breath.

She was still terrified, could feel the worry and anxiety in her bones, but she knew she needed to do this. She needed to do this. Not working with her powers wasn’t an option anymore. She didn’t want any last minute surprises that would result in her hurting someone, so if that meant experimenting (ugh, that f*cking word), then that’s what she was going to do.

“I think I’m good. Let’s do this.”

Bucky glanced toward the large window behind them, nodding at Tony and Bruce. The scientists started moving around the control room, prepping everything. When he looked at Darcy again, she seemed to have settled herself. “We’ll be right there if you need us.”

“Okay.” When Bucky shot her a raised eyebrow, Darcy rolled her eyes and pushed him toward the door. “I’m good. Love you.”

Steve turned to follow Bucky out of the room, but a hand on his arm stopped him. Blue eyes swayed toward Darcy, unable to place the look on her face. It looked like there were unspoken novels in the hazel of her eyes as she stared at him, gaze unwavering.

“I’m sweet on you, you know that, right?” It paled in comparison to the words Darcy wanted so desperately to speak, but when she was there, face to face with him, terror in her heart, she couldn’t let him leave without knowing.

“I know,” Steve said after a moment, unable to look away from her, her expression rooting him to that spot, the full weight of her words heavier than they seemed. “You say stop and we stop.”

“Okay.” She dropped her hand from his arm, watching Steve’s eyes for a second longer before she turned toward the window, seeing that Bucky had already joined Tony and Bruce in the control room. She heard the door whisper as Steve pulled the hatch shut, locks twisting into place.

Her ears popped as the pressure in the room stabilized, and Darcy reached up to rub at them as she opened and closed her jaw. “Last chance to back out, big guy.”

“Never,” Thor said from the other side of the chamber with a shake of his head and a small smirk. “You bested me once. I’d like a rematch.”

Darcy rolled her eyes at the blond and the full Asgardian gear he was sporting. Did her ripped jeans and Bob Ross t-shirt mean she was underdressed? “Oh, so that’s how it is? Trying to get back at me for the taser?”

“Revenge? No. This is for the most noble of causes. Redemption.”

“You mean ego?”

Darcy’s eyes left Thor and flicked toward the control room when she heard the static of a microphone, followed shortly by Tony’s exasperated voice. “If you’re both done reminiscing, can we get to the point?”

“You got my tunes?” She watched Tony’s head hang then shake in a defeated way. She turned her attention to the rumpled scientist at Tony’s side, eyes pleading. “Doc, will you explain to the asshole, again, that I need it?”

Tony took his finger off the microphone button and turned to Bruce with a sigh. “Please don’t.”

“Actually, I’d like to know,” Steve said, gaze switching from where he’d been watching Darcy, leveling Bruce with an honestly curious expression.

“We’ve been working on anchors. She has a mantra she repeats, but we’re hoping to build in a musical component as well.”

“Like your lullabye?”

“Um, yeah, something like that.”

“But you don’t like it?” Bucky asked Tony, arms crossed over his chest as he looked back and forth between him and Bruce.

“Her song choice. It’s just… tacky.”

Steve’s eyebrows knit together, looking to Bruce with a confused expression on his face. “I still don’t...?”

Tony flicked a toggle near his hand. Soft bass began to fill the space and they all watched as Darcy grinned, her spine straightening a bit at the sound.

“The song,” Bruce explained, “it’s, uh, called ‘Amber’.”

“Okay! Let’s do this!” With the song’s beat in her ears, Darcy nodded at Thor one more time. “Are you sure about this?”

“You will not hurt me, Darcy. I trust you.”

Darcy’s arms dropped to her hips, an incredulous look on her face as she glared at the giant blond man. “Really? Really!?” f*cking hell. No jinxes or anything. f*ck!

Thor, looking so much like a confused golden retriever that it made Darcy’s heart hurt, glanced toward the control room. “... did I say something wrong?”

Forgetting about the butterflies in her stomach, and the taste of bile still coating the back of her tongue, Darcy’s eyes fluttered closed. She stood there, quieting her body, taking a deep breath in and letting it out slowly, deliberately. She squared her shoulders. “Synthwave transference. Test one.”

Darcy blinked into the inky abyss, swallowing hard as she felt the darkness press against her mind. It took a moment for her to move past the utter vastness of it all, but she focused her thoughts, took another deep breath, and accepted what was about to happen.

“I see blackness,” she said, knowing the microphones in the chamber would pick up her voice. Being able to focus on the steady thump of the bass guitar helped, the laidback sound doing what they’d hoped it would. She was able to keep one hand on the wheel, so to speak, a foot back in the lab even if that wasn’t where she really was anymore.

“Focusing on Thor.”

Carefully, so carefully, Darcy let her breath out slowly, letting her mind walk closer to the edge. As she moved through the dark, she could see a single pinpoint of light, and it was getting brighter and larger by the second. It was a brilliant aquamarine, calm and tranquil, lighter around the edges. As she took another step toward it, she could see gold veining throughout the blue. It shined so brightly, like a star, but she supposed that made sense. Thor was a god, after all.

The fact that she could see lilac, Jane’s lilac, in all that that pretty blue and gold made her smile. “Thor looks like a star,” Darcy whispered, unable to hear any voices (stone or otherwise), just the steady sounds of the song keeping her focused.

“I’m going to try and move him.”

If she had hands, she’d have rubbed them together, but since she didn’t, not here, Darcy just took a deep breath and started.

Even though they’d all seen it several times now, everyone in the control room stared in awe as Darcy floated above the ground, toes just brushing the floor, skin lit from within with amber light. As her hair whipped around her face, a wind of her own making, Steve tore his eyes from Darcy to glance in Thor’s direction. The Asgardian’s head was co*cked to the side, looking at Darcy critically, something close to familiarity crossing his features.

Her hands lifted in the air, palms out toward Thor. Everyone seemed to hold their breath.

Darcy focused on the gorgeous, otherworldly light that she knew was her friend, thinking softly in his direction. She wanted that blue to move, wanted it to slide across the floor, backward. Not far, she thought, not yet, just a little. She started pushing slowly. His light wasn’t where she wanted it to be, and it was within her power to move it, so she did. She pushed with hands she couldn’t see, pushed at that pretty aquamarine light, watching it inch away from her.

Bucky took a step closer to the window, watching Darcy’s hands carefully pushing away from her body. His eyes flicked to Thor, watching as the blond tried to keep from moving, his jaw clenched in concentration. It was useless, however, as he was unable to stay where he was, his body driven backward by an invisible hand. “She’s doing it,” Bucky said, hands braced on the console as he watched.

Tony’s eyes scoured the readouts in front of him - her heart rate, her blood pressure, brain wave activity - looking for any hint of her losing control, but everything was well within normal levels. “No anomalies on this side, everything’s green.”

Bruce leaned toward the mic, “Thor, are you trying to stop her?” The frustrated look Thor sent in the scientist’s direction was answer enough. “Darcy, can you hear me?”

Distantly, Darcy heard a voice. It was soft, and kind, but it was going to rip her focus if she responded. She kept concentrating, wanting to see how far she could go. She hadn’t heard the incessant whisper of the stone yet, surprised that it seemed content to let her do this without interfering, but she didn’t want to question it. She was more than happy to push as long as that voice inside stayed away. She’d done this before, and she was doing it now, and wasn’t now the time to push it, when everything was set and safe? Did she really want to question why it was being quiet?

’Don’t wanna look a gift pony in the kisser,’ came to mind, a phrase her first foster father had liked to say. He’d been a horrible man, done horrible things to her...

… but if she’d had this power then? A manic giggle escaped as she pushed harder.

Steve took a step forward when the sound of Darcy’s laughter filled the room, watching as Thor was driven backward, until the blond’s back was pressed against the wall with nowhere else to go, and still, Darcy pushed.

“Kiddo, you gotta stop now,” Tony yelled, hand wrapping around the mic as he watched Thor struggle against the pressure that pinned him to the wall. Thor’s teeth were grit, the first hint of worry on his face as he looked at Darcy and the determination on her face.

Something was fighting back against her, somehow keeping her from moving that brilliant blue backward. Darcy wasn’t sure what it was, but it was annoying. How was she supposed to know how far she could push him before she stopped due to exhaustion? And she was exhausted. Focusing so hard was sapping her energy, and she knew she didn’t have much longer. She growled and pushed with everything she had.

Everything happened at once:

- Tony watched as the armor Thor wore cracked and begun to compact around the blond’s chest -

- Bucky ran, yelling at Friday to open the door to the chamber -

- Bruce tore the cord from the stereo, the instrumental music disappearing, the silence sudden -

- Steve leaned into the mic and screamed Darcy’s name -

The second the music stopped and she heard Steve yell her name, Darcy blinked away the colors. She stumbled, dropping the six inches to the floor, hazel eyes wide as she looked toward the control room, trying to understand the expressions on Steve, Tony and Bruce’s faces. “What? What’s wrong?” She followed their line of sight, gaze swinging to look at Thor. The blood in her body ran cold when she saw him on his knees, face red and gasping for air. Oh god! She ran forward, startled when someone flew by her in a blur and reached Thor first.

Bucky slid on his knees, grabbing Thor by the shoulders. Grey eyes flicked along the Asgardian’s body before he reached out with his left hand, the metal scraping along the armor. The blond’s face continued to change to a deeper crimson until, finally, Bucky found what he was looking for. His fingers wrapped around the clasp on the side and ripped downward, tearing the crumpled armor from Thor’s body and tossing it aside.

Thor took a gasping breath in as Darcy threw herself to the ground next to them, hands reaching out to clutch at the blond, devastation in her eyes. “Oh f*ck! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, f*ck, please be okay, please be okay!”

As Thor coughed, Bucky sat back, watching as the color in the other man’s face began to look normal as he took in huge, heaving gulps of air. “He’s going to be okay, Darcy.”

“What the hell happened?!” She turned toward the control room but saw no one, panicking for a second before she watched Steve, Tony and Bruce enter the chamber, moving quickly but without panic, as if everything was alright. When she turned back to Thor and cupped his face in her hands, all she could think about was how she’d hurt him.

“Synthwave Transference test one was a rousing success,” Tony said, not flinching when the full weight of Darcy’s glare pointed in his direction.

“How in the f*ck can you call this a success?!”

“Darcy, I am alright. I swear it.” Thor coughed again, wincing when he reached up to pat Darcy’s shoulder. “Your power is very strong.”

“I could have killed you!”

“Actually, Tony’s right.” Darcy frowned in Bruce’s direction as Tony smirked at his side. “When we removed the music and called your name, you stopped almost immediately.”

“But how did I hurt him?”

“His armor.” When Darcy’s worried gaze swept in his direction, Bucky reached out to squeeze her hand. “You had him pinned against the wall and when you kept going, his armor started to crush his chest.”

“Oh god, I am so sorry!” Thor moaned in pain when Darcy threw her arms around his shoulders and she pulled back instantly, her face a mask of guilt. “I’m sorry, sh*t, sorry!”

“I will be fine. You’re not the first opponent to bruise these ribs and you will not be the last. I suppose I should submit that you have bested me in combat twice now.”

When she was certain Thor was telling the truth, that he was going to be fine and she hadn’t done irreparable harm to him, Darcy felt the panicked energy fade until she deflated like a balloon, palms pressing against the floor as she sagged. The panic had made adrenaline race through her veins, but now the reality of what she’d just done, what her body had just done, hit her all at once. f*cking f*ck, she was so tired.

Watching Darcy slump to the floor spurred action to Steve, and he knelt down beside her, putting a hand on her back. “You okay?”

It took an insane amount of effort for Darcy to glance up in Steve’s direction, and even then she wasn’t able to do more than just look at him. “Wanna sleep for a week.”

“She’s fine,” Tony said, arms crossing over his chest. “The armor thing was a surprise, but this was a great initial test. Once we get her neural dampener in place, she’ll be able to see what’s going on and it’ll stop her from going too far.”

Darcy’s head swiveled to look up at Tony. “Too far?” Almost killing one of the people she loved was a little more than too far for her liking. She watched all five men share a look between themselves, and under normal circ*mstances she’d demand to know what it had meant, but she couldn’t make herself do much of anything, let alone argue with them.

Finally, she waved a hand in the air, too tired to do more than frown at their silence. “Someone help.” Both Steve and Bucky were there instantly, helping her climb to her feet. “We’ll talk about this when I’m not about to collapse.”

“This was a good thing, Darcy. Really.”

She smiled softly at Bruce, seeing the truth of it in his eyes. If anyone was going to tell her to the truth without sugar coating it, it was the consistently frumpled scientist. “Good, that’s good.” Darcy turned to Bucky, the grey of his eyes drawing her quickly evaporating focus. “Sleep, please.”

Bucky didn’t hesitate. He gathered Darcy in his arms, feeling her curl against his chest, her eyes already closed. He gave Steve an encouraging smile over her head, then made his way toward the door and then out of the chamber completely.

As they disappeared, Steve held a hand out toward Thor. The Asgardian took it, wincing as he was helped to his feet. “Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

Thor nodded, rubbing at his ribs gingerly. “That armor was forged in Svartalfheim. Other than your vibranium, it is one of the hardest metals known in the nine realms. That she could damage it so easily is a telling sign of the power she possesses.”

“You saw something,” Steve said, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at Thor, “something in her.”

“The golden color of her eyes reminded me of someone in Asgard. Our watcher, Heimdall. His eyes glow similarly and he wields the power of true sight. He is able to see anyone in the realms from his vantage. If his ability is like Darcy’s, if they share the same source for their power, then perhaps he will be able to provide us with further information on what abilities Lady Darcy may expect.”

Steve nodded, looking down at the crumpled metal of Thor’s armor, face thoughtful. Knowing what else they could expect as far as Darcy’s powers went would be priceless, especially if they proved to be as powerful as her others. “The musical cue worked. Whose idea was it?”

“Uh, Darcy’s, actually. I told her about the lullaby, when it worked at least, and she wanted to give it a try. She said it reminded her of a movie with... someone famous? And something about dreaming?”

“DiCaprio,” Tony said, reaching out to squeeze Bruce’s shoulder, shaking his head slightly. “You really gotta get out more.”

Bruce shot Tony a small smile, then nodded at the control room. “I’m going to take a look at the data, see if it can tell us anything.”

“I will join you,” Thor said, dipping his chin to Steve and Tony before he slowly followed Bruce from the chamber.

There were a few seconds of silence before Tony bent down and grabbed the useless armor, checking its weight and balance, finger running over the crack Darcy’d caused. “Have you talked to Romanoff?”

“I have,” Steve said with a frown, “and I don’t like it.”

“Agreed.” When he saw the brief look of shock on Steve’s face, Tony rolled his eyes. “Even with this, with what she can do… she’s not a fighter. Most of us chose this, in one way or another. You literally enlisted. I suppose Bruce is the only one who’s really here against his will.”

“If given the choice -”

“I know,” Tony said, seriousness bleeding into his brown eyes “so maybe we just don’t bring it up. We work on getting her control, and we leave it at that.” A sigh lifted and dropped Tony’s shoulders. Omitting things was just as bad as lying, and he’d sworn he wouldn’t lie to her again, that they’d be ‘stupid honest’ with each other.

Steve wished it was that easy, he really did, but the soldier knew better. “Hill already mentioned something to her.”

Tony’s shoulders fell as he shook his head, glaring up at the ceiling. “Of course she did.”

“For what it’s worth, Darcy hated the idea.”

“Good! That’s good. We let that happen. Let her hate it and never bring it up again.”

“She hated it because she can’t control what she does and could hurt someone. So the more control she gets…”

“The more comfortable she gets with the idea of using her powers as an Avenger. Is this what we do now? We find people with powers, help them, turn them into soldiers, put them in harm’s way? I don’t want that to be our legacy, and I don’t want that to happen to her.”

Steve stared at Tony for a long time, his thoughts from yesterday springing to mind as he saw the other man’s face set with protectiveness for Darcy. “We take this one day at a time, Tony. We can’t do anything other than that.”

Tony sighed, thrusting the broken armor in Steve’s direction. “I’m a planner, Cap. It’s what I do.”

Holding the surprisingly light armor in hand, Steve watched Tony leave the chamber, hands stuffed in his pockets and head down. Steve’s blue gaze flicked down, following along the crack in the metal, unable to keep from wondering what Darcy could have done to Thor if she hadn’t stopped.

Chapter 20: Holy Thrums

Chapter Text

Bucky glared at them over his shoulder, which only succeeded in making Steve and Darcy laugh harder. “Yeah, sure, laugh it up you two. Hilarious.”

Darcy leaned against Steve, both of their shoulders shaking with laughter as Bucky stirred the pot of his Ma’s marinara sauce, pasta bubbling beside it on the stove. They’d staked their claim on one of the staff lounges, making dinner there a few nights a week. Darcy was a horrible cook (there was a reason they’d lived on poptarts in New Mexico), and for the intestinal well-being of all, both the boys picked up where she slacked.

If that meant she was served dinner by two of the hottest people on the face of the planet? She’d gladly bear that burden.

Darcy gasped for air, waving her hand in Bucky’s direction, glee lighting her features. “But did… his face? What’d it look like?”

Bucky frowned, stirring once more before turning to glare at Darcy. “What do you think it looked like? He was pissed! It’s your fault, anyway,” he said, pointing in her direction with the marinara sauce covered spoon, grey eyes narrowing.

“My fault? How is this -”

“You think I would have called him ‘Chocolate Odin’ if I didn’t have you floatin’ around in my head?”

Bucky watched both Darcy and Steve erupt in another burst of laughter, leaning against each other. The annoyance bled away from his face, replaced with something that tasted more like happiness. Steve’s arm was slung across the back of Darcy’s chair, his foot on the rungs under her stool, cheeks pink and eyes bright. Steve has always been gorgeous when he laughed, and the blond had been doing much more laughing in the past couple months. Steve seemed lighter than he had in a while, and Bucky knew the reason was sitting right beside him.

Darcy looked over at Steve when his arm brushed against her back. His face was lit up with humor, the deep chuckles still rumbling through his chest, and she could feel her heart squeeze, ecstatic at how comfortable he seemed. There’d been hesitation in him before, the careful pause of uncertainty, but that seemed to be fading away the more time they spent together. Every date night, every late night movie marathon, every second they navigated their relationship brought them closer.

It was the little things that mattered the most. Absently stroking her hair as they watched a movie. The feel of his fingers threaded with hers as they walked around the grounds of the compound. An orange chrysanthemum that had appeared on her doorknob without a note, coupled with the knowledge that it’d been Sarah’s favorite flower.

Darcy could see it in his face when Steve smiled at her. She was wearing him down. Not like a wrecking ball, but more like the way erosion can make a canyon. Slow. Relentless. Spread out over time until you forget that it wasn’t always the way it was now.

Steve reached up to wipe at his eyes, wet from laughter and the slight hint of onion that still hung in the hair. The smell of Ma Barnes’ famous pasta marinara was bringing happy memories to the surface, memories of Sunday dinners, of garlic bread and programs on the wireless, of cheering when Brooklyn got a run and hearing that cheer echoed in the tiny apartments all around their neighborhood.

He wasn’t sure when it’d happened, but more often than not, Steve was thinking about the good memories of his childhood, and not the bad. Maybe it was because there wasn’t a looming apocalypse, no battle on the horizon, no war raging on without end. Maybe he was finally getting to breathe for the first time since he’d been pulled out of that ice. Or maybe, just maybe, it was because of the two people who were looking at him, affection shining in their smiles

When Steve pinned her with a smile, it took everything in Darcy not to swoon. She’d worked hard to get that smile pointed in her direction and damn it all if it wasn’t the brightest thing in her universe. She could see Bucky watching them in her peripheral vision, a smirk on his lips, but she was dazzled by the man who was leaning into her, so close and so handsome, that she couldn’t tear her eyes away.

Sure, there were bad days. Days where she was insecure about everything, second-guessing every word, every smile. Was Steve just going along with it all because he couldn’t let go of Bucky and she was like his matching piece of f*cked up luggage? Buy one, get one forced onto you? Was this work of building a relationship just a futile effort, doomed to fail and fall apart in spectacular fashion? Was it useless to try and barge her way into his heart when there was no room?

But even through all of it - through the doubt and hesitation, worry and uncertainty, fear and guilt - Darcy couldn’t believe she was lucky enough to be looking at him, just an inch away, smiling with those big, gorgeous blue eyes peering into hers.

When Steve laughed at her stories, it was like sunshine on her face. When he told her about his day, it was like her favorite song. And when he kissed her cheek before saying goodnight? It was sweeter than the best piece of cheesecake she’d ever eaten.

Darcy couldn’t think of anything she wanted more than Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers, looking at her and smiling because they felt the same way she felt about them. Steve wasn’t there yet, but that was okay. She was working on it.

When Bucky mumbled ‘Chocolate Odin’ under his breath, they both lost it again, giggling like children. Darcy tore her eyes from Steve’s (it was hard) and toward Tony as he pushed his way into the kitchen. She grinned brightly, waving her hand in Tony’s direction. “Tin Man! Bucky was just telling us about the new nickname he gave Fury. You were there, how’d it go over?”

The laughter in the room quieted then faded completely at the expression on Tony’s face. Feeling like she’d been slapped with reality, Darcy straightened in her chair, seriousness and uneasiness settling in the pit of her stomach. “What happened?”

Tony seemed to hesitate before crossing the space. He pulled a postcard from his pocket and held it out to Darcy. It was stamped and covered in stickers, as if it’d been bounced from post office to post office. “We were picking up the rest of the stuff from Jane’s old lab. Looks like this was sent to a few places before it made it there.”

Darcy didn’t like the serious tone Tony was using, or the way his brown eyes were peering at her with empathy. She grabbed the card from him, frowning at the picture of the George Washington Bridge. She flipped it over, hazel eyes reading the words, then reading them again. “Oh.”

Bucky flipped off the burners on the stove, watching Darcy’s expression as she read the postcard again. “Darce?”

Pulled from her own thoughts at Bucky’s voice, Darcy looked up at him, shrugging her shoulders softly. “It’s Olivia.”

It only took a second for Bucky to flip through Darcy’s memories and know who she was talking about. “She alright?”

“She died. Heart attack.”

Darcy watched Bucky’s eyebrows fall, a flash of sadness lighting his grey eyes. She felt Steve shift beside her, his expression comforting but also questioning. “Olivia was my last foster mom before I aged out of the system,” she explained, “she helped me get into college. She died two weeks ago. Her funeral was Sunday.”

Steve had known that Darcy’d grown up in the foster care system, but she kept most of the stories short and without much detail. He understood why, as it was pretty clear they hadn’t been the happiest memories for her to recall. He hadn’t pushed, but the pain behind her carefully apathetic eyes was there if you looked hard enough. “I’m so sorry, Darcy.”

Darcy smiled at Steve’s words, hearing the truth in them, eyes darting down to look at her feet as her thoughts tumbled. She’d gotten a card from Olivia on her birthday, and knew to expect another at Christmas.

… except now that Christmas card would never come.

Tony cleared his throat, drawing her attention. “If you want to go visit,” he said as he shoved his hands in his pockets, and gave her a small, sad smile, “you could take one of the quinjets. Pay your respects.”

She snorted, the sound hollow and self-deprecating. “Like I know how to fly a jet?” When Tony’s chin dipped in her direction and he peered at her over the top of his glasses, Darcy realized what he’d meant. “Oh. Right.”

Bucky took a step away from the stove, Darcy’s sad hazel eyes swinging toward him. He hated seeing that look of pain on her face, knowing how important and influential Olivia had been for her. A battle could be waged every second, fought on every front, but sometimes bad things just happened, and they were like a punch to the gut, every time. “I could -”

“No, no, Buck, it’s fine. You’ve got that thing with Dr. Cho tomorrow, anyway. I already missed the funeral. Really, it’s fine.” Darcy could see that he wanted to argue, but his appointment was important. She’d feel horrible if he missed it.

“I could take you.” Steve watched as her surprised eyes turned toward him. Her face broke into a smile, so true and genuine and heartfelt, in stark contrast to the news she’d just received. Not for the first time, Steve felt like he hadn’t done anything to deserve the way she looked at him. With gratitude. With appreciation. With love.

Of course you’d offer. You’re the kindest, sweetest, most compassionate person I’ve ever met. She reached out, gripping his hand with one of hers, acknowledgment in her eyes but an argument on her lips. “That’s sweet, Steve, really, but it doesn’t need to be a big thing.”

“You should say goodbye,” Steve said, eyes falling down to look where their hands were joined before they flicked back up to her. “You’ll regret it if you don’t. Trust me.”

Watching the shadows move behind Steve’s eyes made Darcy’s chest ache. He’d lost so many people. Too many. She wanted to chase away his dark thoughts, kiss his lips and tell him that she was sorry for the pain he carried by living when others hadn’t.

“Besides,” he continued, smiling softly when he looked into her eyes and saw the first hint of tears, “it’ll be nice, getting to know more about you.”

Bucky’s heart ached, both with sadness for Darcy and the loss she was feeling, but also with happiness as he watched the man he loved offer comfort and time to Darcy. When she looked toward him, so many thoughts in the silence of her hazel eyes, he could only smile and nod his head.

Darcy turned back to Steve, failing to keep the emotion out of her voice. “Thank you.” The look on his face was everything, and she gave him a watery grin when he squeezed her hand again. “I should warn you, though. I get sick on planes.”

“I’ll make sure the plane’s stocked with sick bags,” Tony said, starting toward the door.

“Hey!” Darcy slipped off the stool, padding across the floor as Tony turned back to her with a raised eyebrow. “You didn’t have to -”

“It’s nothing. Don’t -”

“- checking to make sure -”

“- seemed like the right thing -”

“Oh my god, shut the f*ck up already!”

She was emotional, and had good reason to be, so when Tony’s eyebrows hit his hairline, Darcy didn’t feel too bad about it. “You didn’t have to tell me yourself, but you did. Thank you.”

“Yeah, well…” Tony rocked back on his heels, tailored blazer stretching as he shrugged. “We decided to communicate better, right? If it was me, I’d want to hear it from a friend.” When the grin on Darcy’s face widened, he rolled his eyes. “Forget I said anything.”

“Nope. Nuh-uh. You said friend. You called me your friend. Everyone heard it. Steve?”

“I heard it,” Steve called, one shoulder shrugging when Tony glared at him over Darcy’s shoulder.

“See? Friend.” Maybe she was focusing on Tony because it was easier than dealing with the knowledge she’d just been given, but Darcy didn’t think anyone could blame her if she was. The biggest female role model she’d had in life (until she’d met and forced Jane to be her friend) had died and she hadn’t been there.

“Don’t let it go to your head. I have hundreds of friends.”

“Is that right? Hundreds of them?”

“More or less.” Tony leaned to the side so he could see around her, eyes locking with Steve as he gestured toward Darcy. “We good? You got her?” When the blond nodded, Tony’s attention flicked back to Darcy. “I’ll make sure everything’s gassed up. Won’t even check the miles when you get back.”

“My hero.”

“Looks like you’ve got enough of those, kiddo. I’ll see you when you get back.”

Darcy watched Tony disappear from sight before she turned to look at her boys. Yeah, she thought as she gazed at Bucky and Steve, I’ve got a few of those.

“We won’t be gone long. Just a day or two.”

Bucky nodded from the bed as Darcy threw more clothes from her closet into her suitcase before heading into her bathroom. “I know.”

“Quick visit to the cemetery, maybe pop into her place, check in on the locals.”

“Sounds good.”

She crossed back to the closet, digging into it again. “If Steve wants I can show him a few of the old haunts. I’ve lived in a lot of places, so I can’t show them all, but we can hit the biggest ones. There’s a roller skating rink that I used to hate going to. You’ve never known real pain until your fingers have been rolled over by a two-hundred-pound kid while ‘No Diggity’ is playing in the background. Did you guys ever -”

Darcy stopped talking as Bucky wrapped his arms around her from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder. “Take a breath, doll.” She’d been going non-stop since he’d checked on her that morning. He knew she babbled when she was stressed or emotional, but the way she was flitting around like a hummingbird, afraid to sit still… he was worried.

“I’m fine, Buck.” Darcy heard his sound of disbelief and turned in the circle of his arms. “Okay, maybe I’m not fine, but there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“You are doing something about it, you’re going to say goodbye.” he said with a frown, cupping her face in his hands and peering into her pretty hazel eyes. He could see the soft thread of barely-held composure in her gaze, and Bucky had to wonder who she was maintaining it for. If she needed to break, he and Steve would be there to help put her back together.

“I’ve gotten pretty good at those,” Darcy joked, seeing that Bucky didn’t find her words funny at all. She sighed, unable to look in the grey of his eyes, instead staring at a spot on his t-shirt. “I feel bad because I didn’t know sooner.”

“That’s not your fault. With everything that’s happened over the last couple months -”

“Exactly. I’ve been so wrapped up in myself and what I’ve got going on, I barely even thought about anything or anyone else. It’s selfish.”

“Darcy, you are not selfish.”

“Yes I am.”

“No,” Bucky said with a firm shake of his head, “you’re not. You grabbed that stone to save everyone. You kept me from losing a part of my soul and almost lost part of your own.”

Darcy sighed, eyes flicking up to look at his. “Forgive me, but you’re a little biased when it comes to me.”

“Love doesn’t make me biased, it means I see the real you. It’s okay to feel low, and sad, and miss Olivia, but none of that changes who she was for you, or who you are because of her.”

Lower lip trembling, Darcy felt the first hot tear roll down her cheek as she nodded. “It’s just… she’s the first person who looked at me and saw value other than the monthly checks from child services, you know?”

Bucky nodded knowingly. The memories of Olivia were real in his head, too, and he knew how much the woman had shaped Darcy into the loving person she was. Without Olivia, there was no high school graduation, no college, no Jane or Selvig. If Olivia had not taught Darcy to value herself, things might not have turned out so favorably in the battle with Thanos. The impact Olivia Rodriguez had on the world was incalculable.

“I know,” Bucky said, pulling her against his chest, rocking softly from side to side, pressing his lips to her hair. “I could still come, I’d just -”

Darcy pulled back, frowning softly. “You’ve been waiting for this appointment for weeks. I’ll be fine. Besides, I have the world’s largest hunk of American turkey breast keeping me company.”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth turned up at the mental image her words painted. “You should call him that. To his face. And film it.”

Darcy snorted, pulling out of his arms to continue packing. “I’m still trying to get him to like me, remember?”

Bucky sighed, sitting down on her bed, fingers brushing over the soft fabric. “He does like you, doll. You think he’d offer to fly out for just anyone? He wants to get to know you better.”

She paused, looking at her reflection in the mirror as she grabbed her toothbrush. Her face was splotchy, red and warm with tears, and Darcy took a deep breath in. This was going to be the first time she was alone with Steve Rogers and to say she was nervous would be a giant f*cking understatement. “And what if he doesn’t like what he sees?”

“Darcy.” When she stuck her head out of the bathroom door, Bucky knew the look on his face was one of exasperation. “Just be yourself.”

When she laughed and shook her head before disappearing from sight, he had to wonder what he’d done in a previous life to earn two people who didn’t see how much they were worth.

“Don’t forget your deodorant.”

“sh*t! I always forget to pack that!”

“Yeah. I know. It’s why I said something. I’ve got years of you forgetting it in my head.”

When she darted out of the bathroom and launched herself toward him, he laughed, falling back against the bed, smiling when she braced herself above him. He could still see the sadness in her eyes, but if he was able to make her smile even through those tears, then he’d succeeded.

Darcy let out a breath, looking down into the gorgeous grey slate of Bucky’s eyes, the very real thrill of love crawling up and down her spine. So many things in her life had come and gone. People. Places. Friends. That she had something real and solid with the man staring up at her… It was everything.

“One day it’s going to get old, you knowing everything about me,” she said, giving him a rueful smile.

Bucky gazed up at her, tucking a dark curl behind her ear, knowing the love he felt for her filled his eyes. “But today is not that day.”

She smiled, heavy and weighted with everything she didn’t put into words. “No. No it’s not.”

“Love you,” Darcy said against Bucky’s neck, arms squeezing him tightly.

“I know. Love you, too.”

“No, like, I really love you.”

“If you’re stalling so you don’t have to get on the plane, it’s not going to work.”

“f*ck,” Darcy groaned pulling back enough to see the amusem*nt in Bucky’s eyes. “I really hate flying.”

“Is there anything I can do to make it better?”

Darcy turned to smile at Steve, seeing the small bag he had in hand as he neared. This was really happening. She was going to be spending the weekend with Steve Rogers. Alone. Unchaperoned. Should have packed flame-retardant underwear. “Is instant transportation one of your super soldier powers?”

“Not one of mine. Yours?”

Her eyes widened at the thought. “Not that I know of, but can you imagine?”

The smile on Steve’s face was enough to make her stomach flip. Either that or she was getting airplane sickness just being near one before it even got in the air. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to Bucky’s, fingers brushing down his arm and squeezing once before she climbed up the bay doors. She needed to find a seat, preferable with no windows and ample barf bags.

As Darcy left him standing there, Bucky turned his attention to Steve. The blond was wearing what amounted to civilian clothes, and there was something about how Steve fit into a pair of jeans that just wasn’t fair. He gave his lover a warm smile, reaching out to squeeze his hands. “She’s going to try and hide her pain, probably with jokes, or sarcasm, or being annoyed at everything. It’s what she does.”

“It’s what you do, too, so I have practice.”

Bucky chuckled softly, nodding his head before looking past Steve, watching Darcy move around inside. “It means a lot to her, that you’re going. That you offered.”

Steve glanced over his shoulder, small grin turning his lips as he watched her try out one seat before deciding it wouldn’t work and stood to try another. He turned back to Bucky, eyes squinting against the bright sun behind them. “I wasn’t lying, Buck. I want to get to know her better.”

“And that means a lot to me,” Bucky hummed, closing the distance so he could press his lips to Steve’s.

Steve’s hand moved from where it rested on Bucky’s shoulder, brushing along his clavicle and then up, cradling the back of Bucky’s neck as he returned the kiss, answering Bucky’s lips with his own.

Bucky pulled back first, tongue swiping along his lower lip, tasting both Steve and Darcy. “You take care of our girl, punk.”

That phrase - our girl - stuck in Steve’s mind as he walked backward, the bay doors lifting until they stole Bucky from sight. It reminded him of something Natasha had said. This wasn’t about Bucky and Darcy being on one side of a line and him being on the other, this was about the three of them, being together, sharing everything. He knew how Bucky and Darcy felt about him, had stopped denying and accepted it, but the thought that Darcy was theirs, Bucky and his...

Steve liked how that made him feel.

He liked it a lot.

When he turned to Darcy, he found her already strapped into a seat, one he’d be able to see while flying, but far enough away that she didn’t have to look out a window if she didn’t want to. “You okay?”

“Absolutely not,” Darcy said with blunt honesty, fingers already balled into fists, leg tapping out a steady rhythm on the metal floor. “Nope. I hate flying. Did you know that I hate flying?”

He smiled, sliding into the seat beside her. “You may have mentioned it once or twice.” He reached out and took her hand in his, carefully prying her fingers until they were no longer fisted, her foot stopping its anxious dance. “I’m going to fly high and fast, get us there as quick as I can.”

“Good, that’s good.” Darcy looked over at him, at the compassion and encouragement in the beautiful blue of his eyes, and for a second her fear took a backseat to the gratitude she felt for him. “Thank you. This… it means a lot.”

“Of course. You need anything else before we get in the air?”

Darcy thought ’What the hell? It’s worth a shot.’ and smiled at Steve hopefully. “A kiss for courage?”

Laughing softly, Steve looked down at their joined hands before his eyes flicked back up to hers with a smile. “I think I can handle that.”

Steve saw her lean in toward him, his eyes dropping to her lips as she neared, and when she pressed her mouth to his, he let himself enjoy the feeling. No second-guessing or doubt, no worrying about what came next or questioning how everything was going to work. Just Darcy’s lips pressed to his, the feel of her body, and the smell of citrus and flowers on her skin. When she pulled away, Steve’s eyes blinked open, looking into the hazel of hers, only inches separating them.

Nodding, Darcy closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. With memories of Steve’s lips on hers giving her more nerve, she pulled her hands from his and sat back in her seat, hands gripping the belts over her shoulders, her eyes falling closed. “High and fast. Let’s do this.”

Smiling at the fortitude Darcy seemed to be surrounding herself in, Steve stood and made his way toward the co*ckpit. When he heard Darcy call his name, he turned back to her. She gave him an uncertain and vulnerable expression.

“If I’m throwing up, please don’t look. I don’t want you to have that mental image. Think of something different. Something better.”

Blue lace was the first thing that popped into his head, but Steve wasn’t sure that’s what she’d meant. His smile slanted crooked, moving toward the console and calling over his shoulder. “Remember when Bucky threw up on the swings at Coney Island? I managed to look past that, so I think we’ll be fine.”

Darcy groaned at the memory, glad the engines had turned over loud enough that Steve couldn’t hear how just the thought of those swings soured her stomach.

Chapter 21: Going Back

Chapter Text

The entire contents of Darcy’s stomach had made a spectacular reappearance. f*ck, but she hated flying. They’d passed through a storm as they neared the airport and the turbulence had been horrific. While Steve moved around the plane, pushing buttons and flipping toggles as the engines powered down, Darcy waited for the wave of nausea to come to an end now that they were on solid ground.

Steve’d heard her sickness throughout the flight, glancing back at her with worry. Darcy sounded miserable, and it’s possible he may have pushed the engines in an effort to land sooner than expected. The rain had been consistent throughout the hour flight, but it’d been joined by thunder, lightning, and heavy wind when they’d gotten closer.

As everything whirred to a silence, he gathered their bags from the cargo cabinet and crossed the plane. “Darc -”

Darcy held up a hand and gave Steve a hard shake of her head. “Nope. Stay away. Don’t even think of coming near me until I’ve brushed my teeth and downed an entire travel-size bottle of mouthwash.” Her hazel eyes flicked up when he chuckled, the sound alone making her feel infinitely better.

When Darcy felt like she was good enough to stand, she climbed to her feet, sick bag in hand. Once they’d climbed off board and walked into the building on the private air strip (I suppose seeing a Quinjet at the airport might have raised a few eyebrows), she left Steve to deal with the rental car and found the nearest bathroom. She frantically brushed her teeth, gargling with mouthwash for a good five minutes.

Steve leaned against the wall outside of the bathroom, smiling to himself as he heard Darcy gargle over and over. Tony had taken care of everything, from the rental car to the hotel, and Steve couldn’t help but smile, thinking about how quirky Darcy and Tony’s relationship was. It had grown so fast, and fierce, and the way Tony acted around Darcy and Peter Parker was showing Steve a side of the billionaire that he’d not known the other man had.

“Steve?”

Blinking, Steve was pulled out his thoughts when the subject of them said his name. He gave Darcy a small grin, pushing off the wall. “Sorry, you ready?”

Darcy returned his smile, co*cking her head to the side. “Where did you go just then? You had a pretty serious ‘thinky’ face going on.”

Steve chuckled, holding an arm out for her. “Just thinking about you.” Darcy’s grin brightened at his words and he watched it fill her eyes. “Rental car’s out front. We can stop by the hotel and then head to the cemetery?” He saw the happiness fade from her eyes, the reminder of why they were there stealing some of her shine.

Sighing, knowing that this was going to hurt, no matter how much she prepared herself, Darcy nodded at Steve, giving him a tight smile as her eyes swung to look out the window, into the dreary grey where rain was still falling steadily. “Okay. Let’s go.”

The hotel was much nicer than it needed to be, and Darcy frowned at it when they drove up. “Tony set this up?”

Steve put the car in park under the overhang, glancing at the marble entryway, a valet standing at the ready. “Yeah, he made all the arrangements. You don’t like it?”

Darcy sighed, leaning back against the seat and turning her head to look at him. “Let’s just say my idea of an acceptable hotel for an overnight stay, and Tony’s idea of an acceptable hotel for an overnight stay are two wildly different things.”

The corner of Steve’s mouth lifted, knowing exactly what she meant. He’d grown up with practically nothing, living on a wing and a prayer, so everything seemed more than what was necessary. “I suppose we should take advantage of it, since he’s not keeping a tab.”

Darcy laughed, looking over at Steve, reaching out to cup his cheek. “Oh, that’s adorable. Tony Stark not keeping a tab?” She laughed again, watching him lean into her hand a bit before she pulled it back. “It’s going to get even darker soon. We can check in, change, and then head out?”

Steve nodded, still feeling the warmth of her hand on his cheek, watching as the valet opened her door and helped her out of the car. Grabbing their bags from the trunk, assuring the valet that he could handle them himself, Steve waited near the opulent sitting area while Darcy checked them in. When he heard her voice rise a bit, he turned to see her grab something off the counter in a huff, the woman behind the desk giving her a bright smile.

“What was that?”

Darcy thrust a keycard out in his direction. “We’re on the top floor.”

Steve raised an eyebrow as he grabbed the card. “And that’s a problem?”

“It’s where the suites are,” Darcy growled, already planning an angry text message to her pseudo-boss. It hadn’t surprised her that he’d gotten two rooms (yeah, she’d expected it, but a girl could hope, right?), but did one overnight stay really require a two room suite for each of them?

The elevator ride to their floor was quiet. Steve could tell Darcy was annoyed at Tony, but he had a feeling she was a little more emotional than normal, considering the reason for their visit. Grief could express itself in a variety of ways; he got quiet, Bucky got angry, and Darcy got annoyed. See, already learning new things.

*

Her room was ridiculous, way more than what she needed, and she tossed her bag on the bed with a growl of frustration. f*cking Stark. Flashing his money and throwing his weight around. Who does he think he is?

She took a heavy seat on the king-sized bed. It was clad in a million-thread-count sheets and felt like it was made out of a cloud. “Who wants to sleep on a f*cking cloud?!” As she was alone in the room, no one answered her annoyed query. Darcy took a deep breath, trying to crush the wave of emotion that was cresting inside of her.

Darcy looked up, staring at a piece of artwork on the wall, something expensive, and impressionistic, the swirls of colors reminding her of the chaos when she let the stone take her vision. The colors weren’t vibrant enough though, unable to capture the richness of the life as it strobed.

She wondered what Olivia’s colors would have been. Something warm, she was sure. Maybe a chocolate brown, or the pretty green of the forest. Darcy still didn’t know exactly how it all worked, but she couldn’t help but think that maybe her green was like an emerald because of the life Olivia had nurtured, the self-confidence and compassion she’d taught. Was her soul different because of the way Olivia had cared for her?

Yes.

Absolutely.

Without a doubt.

Unsure how long she’d been sitting there, thoughts tumbling, she was pulled out of her haze by a knock on her door. Swiping at her cheeks with her sleeve, Darcy pulled the door open, giving Steve an apologetic smile. “f*ck, I’m sorry, I got distracted. I’ll change really quick.”

“It’s completely fine,” Steve said, noting her tears and the pink tint high on her cheeks, “if you need more time -”

“No, no, come in. I’ll be fine. Just gonna grab my stuff. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Nodding, Steve watched her disappear into the bathroom with her bag. He walked around her hotel room, an exact copy of the one he had across the hall, and ended up sitting on the couch, waiting. Darcy hadn’t been lying about being quick, as she flashed back into the room in seconds, pulling on a pair of black ballet flats. She’d changed into a simple black dress, her hair loose around her shoulders.

Darcy looked around the room to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything before she actually looked at Steve for the first time. He’d changed out of his jeans and into black slacks, a white button-down and a black tie. The fact that he’d changed at all meant a lot, and as she looked at him, his blue eyes looking at her with such warmth and empathy, Darcy had to stop from throwing herself at him and crying against his chest. She drew on Bucky’s strength inside herself, taking a deep breath before nodded at him. “It’s still raining,” she said, glancing out the window at the grey sky.

“That’s alright. I’ve got an umbrella.”

“Of course you do.”

The car ride to the cemetery was quiet, windshield wipers hushing every few seconds. Everything seemed so surreal to her. They followed the same route she’d taken to high school each morning, catching the bus if she made it on time, or hustling through back alleys and short-cuts when she was running late. As they passed the Mom and Pop bodega she’d stopped at every day after school (mostly to pet their resident cat, Mr. Tumnus, and to get the latest dish on Mrs. Garcia’s telemundo soap operas), Darcy let out a cry of surprise.

“What is it?”

Darcy didn’t answer Steve right away, still in shock at seeing the closed sign and the windows shuttered with plywood. She sat back, looking down at her hands. “I used to go in there a lot, that’s all.”

Steve’s eyes slid from the road to Darcy, watching sadness flit across her face. When she went quiet, he let the silence hang in the air, not wanting to push her into talking.

He knew what it was like to go back to place you thought you knew and have it be completely changed. As much as he and Bucky talked about Brooklyn, he knew it wasn’t their Brooklyn anymore. They were carrying around memories of a place that no longer existed, having changed while they’d stayed the same.

As the wipers slid over the windshield, Darcy let the steady noise calm some of the butterflies in her stomach. She couldn’t change what had happened. She’d grown up, moved on, trying to carve out a life for herself. It’s what Olivia had wanted for her, using every opportunity to make the world a better place. For Olivia, that meant fostering older kids who rarely were picked, the ones who’d bounced from home to home, the ones that had troubled backgrounds and had learned how to be hard, to save themselves the disappointment.

Darcy had been a completely different person before she’d gotten to Olivia’s. She’d been mean, and hateful, a product of abuse and neglect and abandonment. And yet, Olivia’s patience knew no bounds; she’d accepted the screams of anger, the profanity and name calling, the sneaking out and getting in trouble with the law, and she’d done it all with grace and the knowledge that maybe the marble-shelled fourteen-year-old just needed someone to listen.

Those few first months had been hell for Olivia, Darcy was sure. Eventually, though, Darcy realized it didn’t matter what she did or say, Olivia wasn’t going to send her back, and she’d finally started letting herself believe it. Maybe Olivia wouldn’t get tired of it all, of her. Maybe, just maybe, she’d found someone who was going to be on her side.

It didn’t happen overnight, but slowly Darcy began to trust Olivia, and once she’d earned that trust, it was given back to her in so many ways. Her grades came up, she got a job, learned what it was like to be responsible to someone other than herself. Darcy’d only been with Olivia for five years before leaving for college, but they’d been the best five years of her life.

As Steve slowly came to a stop and killed the engine, the silence in the car was only broken by the steady sound of rain. He watched Darcy stare out the window for a few seconds before he reached out and laid his hand over hers. “Are you ready?”

Darcy’s eyes swung to look at him, at the small encouraging and sympathetic smile on his face, and knew she’d never be able to express gratitude for him being with her at all. She wasn’t sure she’d have been able to do this alone, and just having him there meant everything. The words were there on her tongue, but she couldn’t bring herself to utter them aloud, not with the weight of what was waiting for her outside in the rain.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly before nodding at Steve. “Not really, but let’s do it anyway.”

Somehow the rain seemed perfect as she looked down at the freshly overturned dirt, the smell of wet grass and trees hanging heavy in the cemetery. Normally people brought flowers to graves, but Darcy knew exactly what Olivia would have thought about that.

Flowers wither and die too fast, she’d have said, and I don’t have time for anything that comes and goes that quickly. I’m interested in making things that last.

Now that she was standing there, feeling the wetness seep into her shoes, Darcy wasn’t sure what to think. She’d thought that once she was standing there she’d be sobbing, knowing that the only person she’d ever really thought of as a parent was a few feet below her, however that’s not what was going through her head. She had lost parents before, now.

She glanced over at Steve, rain falling on the umbrella he held over them. Through Bucky’s memories, she’d already lost parents. And friends. And herself. On the heels of those thoughts was the knowledge that Bucky had sworn to be strong enough for both himself and Steve, promising himself that he’d make sure Steve was taken care of. Memories from Sarah Rogers’ funeral floated to the surface, the look of grief on Steve’s face breaking her heart all over again.

Steve was pulled out of his own thoughts when Darcy’s fingers threaded through his, blue gaze swinging to see her looking at him with a small, sad smile, tears in her eyes that hadn’t fallen yet. When she looked back at the gravestone, he followed suit, looking at the sloggish dirt.

The last funeral he’d gone to was Peggy’s. It’d been beautiful, seeing all the lives she’d touched, knowing how different the world was because she’d been in it. He felt the stab of guilt he always had when he thought of her, of how he’d promised her he’d be there, that he wouldn’t leave her, that he’d be late, but he’d be there.

Fate, or destiny, or whatever else people wanted to call it, had different plans, and he’d been proven a liar. Everything had been different when he’d been brought out of the ice, and he was still just doing his best to navigate in a world that was so different. Finding Bucky, being with him again… Steve knew he would always carry the scars of what might have been with Peggy, but he’d finally started to heal.

Everything that had happened since the battle with Thanos had him reeling again, fumbling to understand where he fit in. It wasn’t just with Bucky, now, but with the woman who was standing beside him, hands clasped, both of them mourning the loss of something or someone that had defined who they were.

Steve squeezed Darcy’s hand and took a step closer to her under the umbrella. He felt Darcy lean against him, taking whatever comfort he could offer, if only for a little while.

Darcy’s eyes traced Olivia’s name in the granite, over and over, her thoughts a free fall of memories and regrets. It wasn’t until the rain began to beat down harder and the sky flashed with lightning that she realized they needed to go. She looked over at Steve, seeing ghosts swirling behind his eyes as her movement drew his attention. “We should get out of the storm.”

“Are you sure?”

Looking into his eyes, Darcy knew that if she wanted to, Steve would stay by her side, drenched and catching their deaths. If he can even get sick with Erskine’s serum pumping through his body. She nodded at him, already feeling the cold in her bones. She cast one more look over her shoulder at the grave marker, one last thank you being whispered into the universe, before they slogged back toward the car.

When Steve suggested dinner, Darcy didn’t argue. She didn’t plan on eating anything, a combination of grief and post-airplane sour stomach, but she knew they needed to stop somewhere. Both Steve and Bucky ate at least six times a day (super soldier metabolisms are jacked, man), and she was more than happy to keep Steve company while he ordered every egg and piece of sausage the place had.

Steve didn’t like the haunted look in Darcy’s eyes, the way her smile dimmed when it was pointed his way, so he kept her talking. She brightened a bit when he asked about her favorite subjects in school, unsurprised to find out she’d been on the speech and debate team. Watching her spar verbally with Tony and Bucky was amusing, to say the least, and it made perfect sense that she’d have taken arguing as an extracurricular activity. He’d laughed as she’d told him about a ‘mock trial’ she’d participated in, somehow getting the prosecution’s key witness to admit that he wasn’t really sure if her client had done the crime.

Even while eating, Steve kept asking her questions about where she’d grown up, what she’d been like in school, anything to keep her talking. It was incredibly sweet and she answered as honestly as she could, his laughter lifting her spirits, the smiles he shot her way warming her bones.

As they shared a piece of apple pie (sharing a piece of apple pie with Captain America? The only way it’d be more patriotic was if we were lighting a firework and it was the fourth of July), Darcy’d told him about New Mexico, and Jane, and Erik, and her first foray into the world of Avengersdom.

“So that’s why he calls you his Lightning Sister,” Steve said, lips turning upward as he took another bite of the pie. He could tell she was mostly just moving it around with her fork and not really eating, but he understood why she wasn’t hungry. He didn’t want to push her, just wanted to chase the darkness from her eyes for a little bit longer.

Darcy nodded fondly, remembering what it had felt like to be exposed to a whole new world, filled with Norse gods and nine realms, and giant death machines that could reduce entire city blocks to nothing but rubble. Everything had changed that first night, her life going on a completely different path. “I was much more of a ‘taze first, ask questions later’ girl back then,” she said with a grin.

The chuckle that rumbled in Steve’s chest was deep and low, and it felt good to be able to joke with her. “As opposed to ‘grab glowing stone and see what happens’?”

Her laughter drew looks from several of the other patrons of the diner, but Steve couldn’t see them because his eyes were intent on Darcy.

She’d laughed with her whole body, head thrown back, dark curls sliding over her shoulders. Her cheeks tinted pink as she clapped a hand over her mouth, trying to silence herself as the sound had pinged off all the walls. Her nose was crinkled, and when a snort escaped, it only sent her into another round of giggles. Steve found himself laughing right along with her, the lightness and clarity of it intoxicating.

Darcy wiped under her eye, catching the tears of laughter before they escaped. She sighed loudly as she caught her breath, dipping her head in Steve’s direction. “Yeah, well, I can’t argue with you there. At least this time I had a good reason.”

His eyes sobered as he watched her eyes dance with self-deprecation. “You saved a lot of people that day. Including me.” Steve tracked the gravity of his words as they filtered to her brain, could pinpoint the moment she realized the sincerity in his voice. There was something in her eyes that held his, a significance that he didn’t completely understand himself.

“I don’t think I ever actually said thank you.”

“Please don’t,” Darcy said with a shake of her head, holding his gaze.

“I kind of feel like I need to.”

“How about you just pay for dinner and we call it even?”

Darcy didn’t think she deserved the way he was looking at her, like he owed her something. He didn’t owe her anything, not for her stupid decision, or the way she’s wedged herself into his life. She was glad grabbing the stone had saved the day, but she hadn’t done it out of bravery or some kind of heroism.

She’d done it because her friend Jane deserved to be alive, and if grabbing the stone allowed that to happen, then she’d be happy to do the stupid thing. At that moment, one life had mattered to her, more than anyone else, more than the rest of the world. Her friend, weighed against the rest of humanity. That wasn’t courage. It was selfishness.

There was something in Darcy’s eyes, something he couldn’t quite place, and Steve felt like he was missing something important. She didn’t look like she was ready to talk about it, and doing so in a diner in the middle of nowhere probably wasn’t the time or place. “I think it’s worth more than dinner, but it’s a good start,” Steve said, smiling at Darcy before lifting his arm to get the attention of the waitress.

Chapter 22: Taste Like Gold

Chapter Text

The rain was a nightmare. When a gust of wind wrecked their umbrella, Steve and Darcy were left making a mad dash into the hotel, still managing to become completely drenched by the downpour. The woman behind the desk frowned as they walked through the lobby, dripping water on all that pretty marble.

When Darcy started stomping her feet, the squish of water leaving wet footprints on the carpet, Steve couldn’t help but laugh. As they waited for the elevator, Steve jerked his arms downward, a splash of water hitting the golden doors. Darcy laughed loudly, covering her mouth as she giggled.

It was ridiculous. Steve’s white shirt was sticking to his body, and despite the amusem*nt at the state of their clothing, Darcy couldn’t help but admire the way the wetness left very little to her imagination.

And she had a very good imagination.

His hair was sticking up everywhere and Steve pushed it off his forehead, the rain slicking it back. He watched Darcy kick off her shoes, chuckling when they hit the floor of the elevator with a wet slap. It was soon joined by the rain from her hair as she leaned forward and rung what she could from the strands, her curls still wild where they hung around her face.

As the elevator dinged open, they were both smiling at the situation, Darcy’s soaked shoes hanging from her fingers. She padded barefoot down the hall, shaking her head as Steve’s shoes squeaked with every footstep. They slowed as she began to dig in her bag for the keycard to her room, then slowed even further as they neared their doors, both of them realizing that the night was about to come to an end, neither of them thrilled at the idea.

“This is me,” Darcy said, thumb gesturing to the door behind her, mentally rolling her eyes at herself. He knows where your room is, dumbass.

Steve nodded, looking down at his feet, wanting to stay with Darcy, but not sure it was the best idea. She was vulnerable, the gravity of the day still apparent, and he wasn’t sure how this was supposed to work. Bucky wasn’t there with them, and even though she knew about him and Bucky’s relationship staying physical, he wasn’t sure what was allowed between him and Darcy.

Darcy could see a flurry of thoughts behind the blue of Steve’s eyes, his hair darker from the rain, sticking up in places where he’d run his fingers through it. She could feel the blanket of awkwardness descending over them, the hallway suddenly too quiet. Everything had been fine seconds ago, but something had changed, some kind of unspoken weight landing on their shoulders.

The uncertainty was stupid, and Darcy was tired enough that the idea of hiding what she wanted just seemed too exhausting.

“I don’t want to be alone tonight,” she said finally, watching as Steve’s gaze flicked from his feet to her face. She took a step toward him, placing her hand on his wet chest, looking up at him through her lashes. “And it’s not because of why we’re here, or because I’m sad, though I am. I don’t want to be alone because I want to be with you, because you make me feel better, just by being there.”

There were beads of rain on the ends of her eyelashes, and as she spoke, Steve could think of nothing except how warm she was, how pretty the hazel of her eyes were, and how he didn’t want her to be alone either.

She let her fingers brush down his chest, grabbing his hand and squeezing it with her own. “I know I’m not what you wanted or would have chosen, and I don’t want you to do something just because you know I want you to -”

“Darcy.” Saying her name successfully stopped the flow of words from her mouth, and Steve lifted a hand to cup her cheek, looking into her carefully guarded eyes. “I didn’t come just because I thought you wanted me to. I came because I wanted to be here. For you.”

His words were sincere, genuine, and it caused her chest to ache in the best way. As she tried to stop the tears that were threatening to break free, Darcy shifted from one foot to the other, looking up at him with a soft smirk. “Shut up.”

Steve laughed softly, pulling on her hand until she was pressed against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pressing his chin to the wet hair at the top of her head. When he took a deep breath, he was drowning in citrus, gardenia, and rain. Darcy’s scent was quickly becoming familiar, soothing.

Darcy’s arms were wrapped around his middle, her breath warm as it fanned across the wetness of his shirt, and even though he could have stayed there like that for longer, he knew they needed to get into dry clothes. “I’ll grab pajamas from my room.” He laughed at the sound of sadness she made, pressing a kiss to her wet hair.

“Give me, like, five minutes?” She glanced up at him, not ready to take her arms back yet. “I need to change and attempt to get this hot mess,” she gestured toward her hair, “under control.” When he smiled at her, Darcy felt a matching one bloom on her lips, too.

“Five minutes,” Steve repeated, stepping back and pulling the keycard out of his pocket.

“Five minutes.”

Steve had never been particularly good at speaking with women. He had years of memories filled with sideways glances, disappointment coloring their eyes when he stood next to Bucky, not exactly what they'd expected when they’d agreed to a double-date. He'd like to think he'd gotten better, but when Darcy pulled open the door to her room, words quickly evaporated from his mind.

Her hair was still wild, though drier now, and the boxer shorts Darcy wore showed a wide swatch of pale, porcelain skin. Her t-shirt was baggy, but he knew the curves that hid beneath the fabric. He pushed off the wall, bag in hand, closing the distance between them. She was still in the doorway, one hand on the door frame, the other hanging limply at her side. Steve wasn't sure what to make of the look on her face, and he frowned as he neared. "Darcy?"

Darcy blinked several times in quick succession, torn out of her inner thoughts by her name falling from his lips.

Reminder to self: send a thank you letter to Fruit of the Loom for plain white t-shirts that obviously run small.

"Yeah, sorry, huh? Sorry. Yeah. Come in." She could feel flames licking up her cheeks as she took a step backward, realizing she'd been standing there openly staring at him while blocking the doorway.

Giving her a small smile, Steve moved further into the room. The suite had a large bathroom right inside the door, opening up to a sitting area with two couches and a large flat-screen television. Doors to the right led into the bedroom, a large king-sized bed piled high with pillows sat in the middle of the space. It was large enough to sleep several people, but there weren't several people in the room. It was just him and Darcy, in a hotel room, wearing pajamas. He turned, gesturing toward the couch with his bag. "Can I?"

Hazel eyes widening, gaze flicking up from where she'd been looking at his flannel pajama pants and wondering how soft they were, Darcy nodded emphatically. "Yes! I mean, yeah, of course. Just put it wherever you want to."

She was ecstatic that he didn't have a reaction to what she'd just said, most likely not knowing the dirty connotation, and when he turned to throw his bag on the couch, Darcy took the moment to bite her lip, look toward the ceiling, and beg David Bowie to keep her from doing or saying something stupid.

Steve turned, crossing his arms over his chest, marveling at how quickly he could go from comfortable to awkward in the span of seconds.

"Are you -"

"Did you want -"

They both laughed, the sound tinged with anxiousness. As it faded, Darcy felt the compulsion to fill the silence with words. "I hope you're not going to make me argue with you about sleeping on the couch or something like that. I mean, I'm sure it'd be plenty comfortable, judging by it's flooffiness, but I still think we could both -"

" - I'm fine in the bed, if you - "

" - oh, yes, totally fine - "

" - then bed it is."

Darcy nodded, a small smile quirking her lips as she looked at him. How Steve was able to look so solid but also vulnerable at the same time... it was adorable. Captain America was wearing pajamas in a hotel with a woman and he looked like he was afraid to breathe the wrong way. "This is silly, right?"

"Silly?"

"I mean, it's not like this is the first time we've been in a bedroom together. That time in my room -"

Steve nodded as the memories of that night flashed to mind in vivid detail. "Yeah, but we had a partner that night," he said, "and this is the first time it's just us."

Part of the reason he'd wanted to come, other than to give her comfort, was so he'd get to know her better. The conversation at the diner had started rough, but by the end it was almost easy, the words and stories flowing freely from them both. Somehow, changing clothes and being in a hotel room had shattered that comfort, made it into something heavier.

"I'm not expecting anything from you tonight," Darcy breathed, feeling like it needed to be said, so there was no miscommunication. "We don't even have to touch if you don't want to." She shifted her weight again, looking down at her feet, afraid that she'd look up and see relief in his eyes.

Steve closed the distance between them, lifting her chin so she was looking up at him, so she could see the sincerity in his eyes. "I like touching you, Darcy. Trust me." He watched the disbelief fade from her eyes, their depths darkening as she tasted the truth of his words. He tried to think of what Bucky would say if he were in the same situation, knowing he'd never be as smooth as his lover and best friend, but trying all the same. "I think we should get in bed."

f*ck those words were like music to Darcy's ears, and she nodded as she looked up at him. "Okay."

The sheets were just as soft as she'd imagined they'd be, and as Darcy crawled between them, watching Steve do the same, her entire body tingled and sparked with attraction. They settled, pulling the blanket over their bodies, leaving space between them, both laying on their sides and facing each other. Ignoring the thrills running up and down her spine, Darcy grinned shyly at him. "Is it wrong that I feel satisfied that Tony's having to pay for a room that won't get used?"

Steve chuckled, adjusting his arm under the pillow, shifting so it was easier to see her. It felt intimate, looking at her from this close, and he eased into it slowly. "I'm not sure he'll care."

"Probably not." She couldn't believe she'd brought up Tony Stark while in bed with Steve Rogers, mentally flogging herself for doing so. She didn't want to talk about Tony, or Bruce, or anyone else. Darcy wanted her entire attention to be placed on the man in front of her. "Did it hurt?" At his questioning look, she realized she'd changed the topic without telling him. "When you got the serum, I mean."

"Oh," Steve said, looking at the honest interest in her gaze. "It... it felt like my entire body was on fire. Muscles burning, bones aching. I'd never known pain like that, and I'd gotten into more than my fair share of scraps."

Darcy smiled, Bucky's memories readily available to confirm Steve's words. "Hmm, you getting into fights with people? This is my shocked face."

His lips slanted at the sarcastic look she pointed in his direction. "You shouldn't trust Buck's memories completely. He always saw me differently than everyone else."

She nodded, moving just the tiniest bit closer to him. "Then tell me something new. Something you haven't told anyone else, even Bucky. Something for just you and me."

Steve looked at her for a long time, trying to think of something that no one else knew. There were things inside him, thoughts and feelings that he’d always been to scared to share with anyone, even Bucky. Especially Bucky. Admitting them to himself was hard enough, and Steve wouldn’t have been able to take the guilt in his best friend’s eyes as he explained. Somehow, looking into the pretty hazel of her eyes, he didn’t feel the same way with Darcy; the idea of something being theirs, a memory shared that she hadn’t gotten from her bond with Bucky or from any other effect of the stone… building something with her...

He took a deep breath, deciding to close his eyes and dive in.

"When I came out of that ice, realizing how much time had passed... part of me wondered if it'd have been better if they'd never found me. Everything was so different, I didn't know how I was going to fit in a world I didn't know anymore." He saw the emotion in Darcy's eyes, but she didn't speak. Steve's fingers brushed against her temple, pushing a curl behind her ear. "Everyone I knew was gone. Or, I thought they were."

"When I found out Peggy was still alive, it was like I was that tiny kid again, so nervous, stomach turning. Her eyes lit up when she saw me, and it was like no time had passed, like she'd been waiting for me. Then her memory faded, and her eyes lit up again, looking at me like it was the first time, and it broke my heart."

Darcy watched the pain in the curve of his jaw, in the line of his eyebrows, and she knew there was nothing she could say to make it better, no matter how much she wanted to chase those shadows from his eyes. She moved closer, finding his hand and threading her fingers with his on top of the blanket.

"Peg's life was so full, and even if it wasn't with me, I was happy she was loved, that she had a family. If we'd... if things had been different, if she and I... she wouldn't have gotten that. Being Captain America, leading this life... you can't just clock out at five and go home to your family. She would have missed out on so much if things hadn't gone the way they had."

It was hard to swallow past the lump in her throat, hearing the love and loss in Steve's voice, and Darcy was quiet for a little bit, watching as he felt everything again. She wanted to apologize for asking, for bringing it all to the surface, but he'd shared it with her, and she took the pain and heartache gratefully, knowing it hadn't been easy to talk about, but that he'd done it anyway.

Steve could see the empathy in her eyes, the hazel shining brighter through her tears, and just looking at her made it easier for him to breathe through the pain.

The vulnerability in his eyes made her chest ache, and Darcy was willing to spend the rest of her life earning the look he was giving her right then. Her voice was soft, a little more than a whisper, but not by much. "You know you deserve that, too, right?” She watched his eyebrows come together in confusion. “Being loved. Having a family. Captain America is… it’s an ideal, a shield, a symbol. But you? Steve Rogers? You deserve a life just as much as anybody else."

He wasn’t sure that was true, but the intensity in her eyes kept Steve from saying so, her grip on his hand strong and insistent. Her tongue darted out to swipe across her bottom lip, and Steve found his eyes following the motion, gaze lingering of the pout of her mouth. For once he didn’t question it when his body reacted to her.

The air in the room was emotionally charged, like ozone, like electricity, and when his eyes flicked back up to look in hers, he could see the same desire written on her face as well. “If I kiss you right now, it might be hard to stop.”

“I know,” Darcy said, unable to help the small bit of disappointment that sounded in her words.

“No, you don’t.” Steve shifted in the bed, lifting onto his elbow, crowding into her space, looking down at her as her pupils dilated. “I’m going to kiss you, I just wanted to warn you that there’s the very real chance that my willpower won’t hold up.”

“Oh.” It wasn’t so much a word as it was an exhale of breath as Darcy blinked up at Steve, her heart racing at the hunger in his cobalt gaze. “I guess we won’t know until we tr -”

The words were still falling from her lips when his mouth crashed against hers, swallowing her sigh as Steve’s hand cupped her chin, fingers sliding through her hair until he cradled the back of her neck. His weight on top of her was delicious, and her hand reached out and shoved at the blanket, pushing it away so he could fit between her legs.

Steve slotted himself against her, one hand sliding down her curves, moving until he could lift her knee and hook it around his hips, hearing Darcy moan against his lips as he pressed himself against her. He pulled away long enough to press a kiss to her forehead, both cheeks, then recaptured her mouth.

Everywhere Steve touched her was on fire, heart thundering in her chest, beating as if repeating his name, over and over. Steve. Steve. Steve. Darcy heard it, then, falling from her lips as if she’d needed to make it real. Her fingernails bit into his back, sliding down as his mouth blazed a trail along her jaw. He felt so right, fitted against her like this, and Darcy was having a hard time breathing as his body moved against hers.

Her soft moans and sighs were going to be his undoing, a groan rumbling in his chest when she dug her heel into his lower back, pulling him even closer. Steve’s hands wanted to be everywhere on her body; on her neck, her ass, the inside of her knee, thumb brushing against her nipple as he palmed her breast. She cried out and arched her back, pressing herself more fully into his hands, his tongue licking at her lips and demanding entry.

She wasn’t sure how long they’d been kissing - minutes, hours - but Darcy’s entire body thrummed with need, melting against him, urging him on with her teeth, and nails, hands finding purchase wherever she could. She was like putty in his hands, chasing his skin, wanting to feel more of it pressed against her. Fingers pulled at the bottom of his shirt, exposing more skin, their bodies only separating for a second for his shirt to be removed and thrown over his shoulder.

Darcy’s mouth left his lips and moved down the curve of his jaw, the stubble he’d grown rubbing against her cheeks as she nuzzled the side of his neck, taking a deep breath of him, a sigh slipping free as his hands gripped her hips and pulled her closer. The hard feel of Steve pressed against her, coupled with the knowledge that he wasn’t wearing anything under the flannel bottoms, had her eyes screwing shut as she fell back to the mattress, body overwhelmed by the want singing through her.

Now that he’d started, Steve wanted everything. He wanted her to open for him, to curl his fingers into her warmth, wanted to taste her, wanted to connect their bodies until every movement made her scream, until her nails dug bloody furrows into his back as he made her fall apart, again and again and again. It wasn’t until his fingers had dipped into the waistband of her underwear and he felt her shudder against him that his thoughts sobered enough to make him pause.

When Steve lifted his body from hers, holding himself up on his forearms, Darcy blinked hooded eyes at him, a question on her lips.

She was gorgeous, pupils blown, lips swollen and red, pink in her cheeks, and Steve realized in that moment just how much willpower he truly had. He waited until his breathing had evened out, until he was sure he could dip his head and kiss her without letting it spiral further out of control.

Darcy could tell that he was holding himself back, and she wasn’t sure where he pulled his endless amount of patience from. Her body was protesting, wanting to finish what they’d started, but she knew they couldn’t. She didn’t want their first time to be without Bucky, and she knew Steve felt the same.

Steve pressed his lips to hers once more, savoring the feel and taste for a second longer, before falling back to his side, stretching his arm up and under his pillow. He looked across the space, seeing the same internal war that was raging in him echoed in Darcy’s eyes. He chuckled, letting his breath out in a huff. “I’ve faced some pretty bleak odds, but stopping myself with you looking like that? Closest I’ve ever come to failure.”

“Pretty words from a pretty mouth,” Darcy said with a grin, reaching out to pat his cheek. He caught her hand first, though, and pulled until she was cradled against him, one arm wrapping around her shoulders, the other hand holding hers to his chest. “You’ll be able to sleep like this?” She heard his humming answer, grinning as it rumbled against her ear. “Okay.”

*

Even though her body had been like a livewire minutes before, the overwhelming feeling of exhaustion hit Darcy like a freight train, her eyes fluttering closed as the gravity of the day pressed over her. She must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she remembered was the dipping of the bed as Steve slipped from it. “Mmm?”

He’d hoped to be back before she knew it, but when he heard her hum of a question, Steve looked over his shoulder at her, seeing her sit up in the bed with sleep filled eyes, narrowed as she looked for what had woken her.

The grin that climbed onto his face at the sight of her disheveled hair disappeared when darkness fell in the room as he flipped the light switch. The moon was shining through a crack in the curtain, a single line of light illuminating enough to he could make his way back to her.

“Sorry, just shutting off the lights,” he whispered. She made no real acknowledgment at his words and Steve was almost certain she wasn’t really awake. When he slid back beneath the sheets, Darcy immediately returned to his side, draping one knee over his leg and settling herself under his arm. Somehow her body seemed to fit perfectly against his, and Steve was left wondering how both Bucky and Darcy could accomplish the same comfort when their bodies were so vastly different.

He laid back, pressing a kiss to her hair, listening as her breath evened out and she fell back to sleep in no time. It took Steve longer, his mind overturning the events of the day, but it was almost too easy to let Darcy’s warmth soothe him, her weight at his side an anchor as he fell after her.

Waking up next to Steve Rogers was everything she'd thought it be and so much more. At present, the blond's arm was draped over Darcy’s stomach, the rest of him curled against her back, and the grin on her face seemed like it'd be there permanently.

She knew Steve usually woke early, getting a run in while everyone else was still sleeping, but after the emotional day they'd shared, she figured he was due for a lazy Thursday morning. His breathing was even, calming, and Darcy's fingers brushed against his forearm, enjoying his warmth and smiling contently to herself.

She was being spooned by Steve Rogers.

She was being spooned by Steve Freaking Rogers.

When Steve sighed, arms pulling her closer, face burying itself further into her hair, Darcy just enjoyed the moment.

Once they got back to the compound, bursting the bubble that this trip seemed to surrounded them in, they'd have more work. Figuratively and metaphorically. Darcy felt like she and Steve had really come together over the last twenty-four hours, in spite of the horrible circ*mstances that had necessitated the trip in the first place. Things weren't perfect, there were still moments of awkwardness between them, but those could be overcome easily since they both wanted the same thing, and that's all that mattered.

She knew the moment Steve woke, feeling the small stiffening in his body as his brain tried to remember where he was, and who he was with. Darcy kept her fingers brushing against the hair on his arm, grinning even though she knew he couldn't see it. "I was this close to downloading 'Reveille’ and playing it for you," she joked, "but wasn't sure whether you'd find it funny or hate me for it."

Steve smiled to himself, taking a deep breath through his nose, still able to smell the citrus and gardenia on her skin and in her hair, as if the rain hadn't washed it all away yet. "I wouldn't hate you," he breathed, letting his eyes close again, "but I might have furrowed my brow."

Darcy made a ‘tsk’ sound, clicking her tongue and shaking her head in mock disappointment. "Oh hell, the furrowed brow? That's a low blow, Rogers. Totally unfair."

Humming, Steve pressed his lips to her shoulder. It was an intimate gesture and part of Steve wondered if he’d gotten to that point with Darcy, or if he should feel embarrassed that he’d done it so easily. Remembering the night previous, the way they’d kissed, her words about him deserving some happiness… he pushed the hesitance aside and decided to stop questioning himself, at least for a little while. “Do you know that you snore?”

The noise Darcy made was strangled, and she turned in the circle of Steve’s arm, disbelief on her face as she blinked at him. “I do not snore!”

“Yeah, you do.” Steve grinned sleepily as she continued giving him a shocked face.

Pushing down the embarrassment (I f*cking snore, so hot, so sexy, perfect), Darcy’s eyes narrowed at him. “How dare you, sir!” As he continued to smile at her, blue eyes lighting with amusem*nt, she turned her humiliation into thinly veiled compliments. “Yeah, well, we can’t all be perfect specimens like you and Bucky, can we?”

Steve reached out and pushed a lock of wild hair behind her ear. “Not much wrong with you from where I’m sitting, sweetheart.”

It was corny, and sentimental, and sounded more like something Bucky would have said than Steve, but the grin that climbed onto Darcy’s lips was crooked and dopey. She could feel the heat spreading over her cheeks, happiness thrilling through her body, and she reached out to cup his cheek. “Except for the snoring?”

He smiled, seeing the light in her gaze as she peered at him, the warmth of her hand against his skin comforting. “It was a small price to pay for getting to wake up beside you.”

Steve wasn’t sure where the words were coming from, put together and presented much smoother than usual when talking with members of the opposite sex, but maybe it was her. Maybe Steve was able to say things without stumbling because, somewhere along the line, being with Darcy had become easy.

Darcy was sure her heart was going to explode with happiness, bursting into a million little pieces, like candy from a pinata. A heart happiness pinata. He looked so lazy, so comfortable, and the light in his eyes warmed her like a supernova. “Play your cards right, Rogers, and you might wake up next to me more often.”

His grin brightened at the playful look on her face. “Are you flirting with me, Ms. Lewis?”

She beamed. “Doing my damndest, yeah. Is it working?”

Steve chuckled as he watched the wattage on her smile turn to an eleven. “Yeah,” he breathed as he leaned forward, “it’s working.”

Darcy saw the heat as it lit into his eyes, her gaze flicking down to his lips as they came closer. Part of her wanted to stop him so she could brush her teeth before they kissed, but the other much larger part of her wanted his lips on hers immediately, despite any morning breath concerns.

Her lips were soft against his, the affection easy. Delicate. It wasn’t like it’d been the night previous - desperate and filled with hunger - but Steve took his time, feeling her smile against his mouth, his arms pulling her closer. He laid back, pulling until she was half-sprawled on top of him, her hair a curtain around their faces.

Laughing against his lips, Darcy held herself up above him, one arm sweeping her hair over her shoulder as the other one pressed into the mattress beside his head. She blinked down at him, smile on her face and lightness in her voice. “Is it bad that I kinda don’t want to leave?”

Steve smiled up at her, watching her eyebrow lift slightly at her question. “No, I know what you mean,” he said, feeling her hair as it brushed against his chest, “but think about who we get to go home to.”

He’d said the exact right thing at the exact right time. It had to be some kind of new superpower, Darcy was sure of it. “Between you and Bucky? I’m one lucky son of a bitch.”

His grin widened. “We both are.”

*

An hour later, Steve was hefting both of their bags into the trunk of the rental car, looking up at Darcy with a question as he heard the tinkling of glass from her tote. “What’s so heavy in your bag?”

“Oh,” Darcy paused, hand on top of the car as she turned toward him with a devious smirk, “I took everything out of both mini-fridges. It’ll probably be, like, $400 extra added to the bill.”

When Steve’s laugh echoed in the air, it took Darcy everything had not to swoon.

Chapter 23: Back To Me

Chapter Text

Darcy’d taken the entire bottle of dramamine (well, not the whole bottle, but enough) and was happy that she hadn’t needed any of the sick bags on the flight back to the compound. It’d been close, though, and she suspected Steve had flown faster for her sake. Not passing through a storm had helped, but she’d still taken Steve’s hand happily when he stood next to her, waiting until she was sure her stomach had settled before moving.

She moaned, the sound sad and miserable, and Steve’s fingers tightened on hers as he watched her run a hand over her face, head still between her knees. Even though he knew it was just motion sickness and that it was temporary, he still didn’t like the idea of her not feeling well.

Steve didn’t like it at all.

His gaze swung when he heard the steady rhythm of feet hitting pavement, then the metallic crunch as those feet ran up the cargo bay doors and into the jet.

“Captain. It’s Wilson and Maximoff.”

Darcy’s eyes squinted open when she was certain she wouldn’t throw up, not recognizing the man in uniform, his face a bit pink from exertion. It looked like he’d come running from somewhere, a slight thread of panic in his voice, and it was pretty obvious something was wrong.

“What happened?”

Steve’s voice had lost the softness he’d used with Darcy, replaced by what Bucky liked to call his “captain voice”. It was very apt, as Darcy couldn’t help but think about Steve Rogers fading away and being taken over by the Star-Spangled Soldier. The fact that she’d gotten to spend two whole days with Steve Rogers and not Captain America felt like some kind of dream, one she hoped would re-occur often.

The man opened his mouth to talk, then noticed Steve’s hand and the woman who was attached to it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t -”

“What happened,” Steve repeated, with more force in his tone. He could tell Riggs was hesitating because Darcy didn’t have the proper clearance, but Steve didn’t want them to waste any time. When Riggs glanced one more time in Darcy’s direction, the frown on Steve’s face deepened and that seemed to do the trick.

“We’ve tried reaching them on comms for an update but it’s been radio silence since Monday.”

Sam and Wanda had been in Wakanda for over three months and nothing had seemed out of the ordinary that whole time. They’d been getting daily updates, debriefs on the recovery effort, no new threats to worry about. His gaze flicked back up to Riggs. “Satellites?”

“Stark says they’re disabled and he can’t get them back up. The team’s getting ready now.”

Steve nodded. “Refuel, we’ll be wheels up in five.”

Darcy watched the man turn and run from the jet, face already set and preparing to follow Steve’s orders. She’d found out pretty quickly that most of the soldiers on base were Captain America’s men, through and through, and they rarely questioned his directions. Following a leader had never been her strong suit, but she supposed if Captain America asked a soldier to do something, they trusted him.

But Darcy? She trusted Steve Rogers.

Steve watched Riggs run back inside before he knelt in front of Darcy, fingers squeezing, glad she looked less green than she had a few minutes prior. He gave her a wan smile, seeing the look in her eyes, like she knew the words that were about to come out of his mouth. “We’ve gotta go.”

Darcy hadn’t met Sam or Wanda in the short time she’d been at the compound, but she knew from Bucky’s memories that they were important to Steve, which made them important to her, too. As she stared into the cerulean she loved so much, Darcy could see the first hint of uncertainty in Steve’s gaze. “Should I be worried?”

“I’d be surprised if you weren’t,” Steve said, reaching up to brush a piece of hair behind her ear, “but you’ve got Bucky in there,” he tapped her temple, “so you know the mission and the risks that come with it.”

She sighed. Darcy did know the risks, more intimately that she would have liked, and she also knew her men. They would go, risk being hurt or worse, because it was the right thing to do. Yeah, Sam and Wanda were friends, but that wouldn’t matter. If they could help, they’d go. It was brave, and terrifying, and it was one of the reasons she loved them.

“I suppose asking to go along would be out of the question?” The look Steve gave her said more than enough, and Darcy laughed softly as she shook her head. “Yeah, yeah, I figured. How about just promising me that you’ll be safe and do everything you can to come home to me?”

Steve smiled at Darcy. Come home to me. It was such a simple phrase, just four little words, but they were heavy, weighted with meaning, and Steve felt it in his chest. “That I can do.” he said, closing the distance between them.

He kissed her, lips lingering, and Darcy’s stomach flipped with careful hesitation. It was soft, and sweet, and perfect, and she sent up a silent prayer that it wouldn’t be the last time she got to feel him against her.

When he pulled back, Steve could see uneasiness in her eyes, worry turning the hazel darker, and he wanted nothing than to wipe the anxiety from her face. He straightened, fingers squeezing hers, compartmentalizing his own feelings and focusing on the mission. “I’m sure Buck’s suiting up. You should be able to find him before we leave.”

Darcy nodded, hearing him slip back into the Captain and knowing that she was only making things harder on herself by lingering. She stood experimentally, happy when the wave of nausea seemed to have passed. She threw her arms around Steve’s neck, the toes of her boots scraping the floor. His arms closed around her and squeezed, and she took a deep breath inward; his scent was familiar, and comfortable, and she pressed her lips to his neck before pulling back.

She didn’t look back at him, not even pausing as she grabbed her bag. She made her way down the ramp and out of the jet without a second look, too afraid that she’d start crying, knowing that right now she was the last thing he needed to worry about.

She was happy for a distraction, smiling as one of her favorite people headed in her direction. Thor’s face broke into a wide grin at the sight of her, and the expression helped push away some of the dark clouds she’d felt closing in. Thor Odinson, Norse God and resident therapy puppy-dog.

“Lady Darcy! You’ve returned!”

Darcy wasn’t able to brood, not while the smile on the giant blond’s face was pointed at her. “I have indeed. And you’re heading out, I see.”

Thor’s face sobered a bit and she saw the soft hesitation light in his eyes as he nodded. “We are all hoping it is a miscommunication, nothing more.”

You know what they say about hoping, Darcy’s brain groused, trying hard to push aside the wave of anxiety that was starting to build in her stomach. “Well, Big Guy, will you do me a favor and keep an eye on my boys?”

Thor dipped his head in her direction, giving her an encouraging smile. “I swear on Yggdrasil that I will do what I can.”

Darcy had no idea what IggyPopDrizzle was, but she could see the determination in Thor’s face as he pinned her with his pretty blue eyes. “I suppose that’s all I can ask.” When he held out Mjolnir toward her, she bumped it with her fist, smiling at the weapon, somehow feeling better that it’d be right there with her boys, too. “Be safe, myuh-myuh.”

“That’s not it’s name,” Tony said as he strode by Darcy without looking at her, not even slowing as he made his way onto the plane. He wasn’t wearing his armor, and she half-hoped it was because they weren’t expecting trouble. But if Thor was there, hammer in tow, she couldn’t help but think they were planning for worst case scenario.

Bruce gave her a nod of his head as he passed and it wasn’t hard to see that the scientist wasn’t particularly excited with the prospect of going somewhere that might induce his magic transformation. She tried to give him large smile, hoping it’d lift his spirits. “Hopefully your intradimensional yoga helped the Green Giant!” she called out to him.

“Also not what that’s called!” She heard Tony yell as he took the pilot’s seat, the engine whiring to life a second later.

“You’re finally back and we’re leaving,” Bucky said into her ear, voice dark with feeling. When Darcy turned and smiled at him, it hit him just how much he’d missed having both her and Steve at his side.

Like torture.

Like agony.

He’d only made it through with the help of Natasha and a well timed appointment with Dr. Cho which had involved being put under for several hours. If their distance had been hard on him, it was going to be infinitely harder on Darcy, especially knowing their mission could involve violence.

Darcy pressed her palm to his skin, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. “Ships in the night and whatnot,” she breathed, drinking in the sight of him, stomach churning with a mix of worry and desire. She knew this was their job, but that didn’t make it any easier. “You’ll be careful?”

He gave her small smirk. “Always am, doll.”

Darcy gave him a look, one that said she wasn’t buying any of his bullsh*t, despite the smoothness of his deceit. “Even if I didn’t have your memories in my head, I’d know that was a lie.”

Bucky’s lips slanted as he closed the distance between their bodies, pressing his lips to hers, putting meaning into the gesture that he couldn’t speak aloud. She was warm, and smelled like citrus and the tiniest bit like Steve, and he took a large breath inward, drawing her into his lungs as deep as he could.

She pressed her lips to his neck, squeezing her arms tightly. When she heard the plane’s flaps being tested, Darcy knew they didn’t have much time left. She pulled back, eyes sweeping along his jaw, the bridge of his nose, the curve of his eyebrow, committing it all to memory as if she didn’t already have it memorized a million times over. “Come home to me, okay? I’ve got plans and they involve you and that large hunk of beef over there, and you know how I hate waiting.”

Bucky laughed, shaking his head warmly. “Yeah, sweetheart. I do know that about you.”

She nodded, swallowing past the lump in her throat. Darcy had memories of them leaving on missions hundreds of times, but this was her first, and she was scared. She was scared for him, and Steve, and the rest of the ragtag team she’d come to know and care for. Yeah, it was their job, but it sucked. It sucked a lot, but she needed to let them do their job. “Then you also know that I love you.”

He smiled at her, seriousness bleeding into his slate eyes, emotion making them darker. Her hair began to whip as the plane’s engines surged to life, and he closed the distance between them, lips brushing along the shell of her ear. “Yeah, doll, I know that, too.”

She nodded, drawing on his strength that now lived in her body, stepping aside and watching Bucky climb into the plane. Before the bay doors stole them from sight, Darcy could see both of them, both of her men, standing side by side, looking back at her. Darcy waved, fear and love singing through her. She watched as the plane grew smaller and smaller, until it disappeared into the clouds.

She sighed, turning back to the empty hanger, feeling a bit lost. The two halves of her heart were on a jet headed toward a far flung country in the heart of Africa, not knowing if they were flying straight into a battle or ambush.

“Darcy! Where… they already left?”

Darcy blinked at Peter, head co*cking to the side as her gaze shifted down toward the bag in his hand, then back up to his face. “Did you think you were going with them?”

“What? Um, no. Not… Barnes said something about needing to carry a bag, and I, uh, I guess he meant -”

He grunted when Darcy’s bag was thrown at his chest, quick reflexes catching it before it could hit the ground. The sound of glass hitting glass came from inside, but Darcy was fairly certain nothing had broken. She’d wrapped all those twenty-dollar mini-bottles of booze in her clothes, along with a few towels and a robe she’d taken, as well.

“My bag. Pretty sure he was talking about helping me carry my bag back to my room. Did you really think they’d let you go on a real mission?”

“Well, yeah. I was in Berlin -’

“Totally different scenario, spiderling.”

"Weren't things supposed to get better after the last planetary cataclysm was avoided?"

Steve glanced in Tony's direction, watching as the billionaire set the quinjet on auto-pilot and spun in his seat to face the rest of them. "We don't know that anything's wrong," Steve said with a frown, "it could just be communication issues."

"It's not like a satellite goes off-line for no reason," Tony said over the top of his glasses, "we run maintenance on them regularly and it was fine three days ago."

"Any solar anomalies? Something that could have, uh, fried a board or something?" When Tony leveled his glare in Bruce's direction, the scientist shrugged his shoulders. "Is it so wrong to hope it's nothing?"

"’Hope for the best and prepare the worst’ always seems to go in one direction for us."

As Bruce and Tony's voices hushed near the front of the jet, Steve turned his attention to the tablet in his hands. going over the last report Sam had sent him. The soldier hadn't mentioned anything unusual. They were so close to being complete, cleaning up the damage left over from the battle with Thanos and his armies. Steve couldn't think of any reason why things had gone down. He'd tried being hopeful, but part of Steve couldn't help but agree with Tony; things so rarely went their way and if this was like any of the other times, they were in for a fight.

Bucky watched Steve frown at the screen, taking the seat next to the blond. "So."

Steve’s gaze flicked in Bucky's direction, seeing the small grin curling his best friend's lips. "So what?"

"Don't 'so what' me, punk. How did things go? Darcy looked... good. Solid."

Steve set the tablet aside, turning to look at Bucky with a raised eyebrow. "You mean good for someone who returned from visiting the grave of a loved one?"

"You know what I mean," Bucky growled, lowering his voice, glad that Tony, Bruce and Thor were arguing amongst themselves, "I meant she looked happy."

Thinking about Darcy brought a smile to Steve's lips and he looked down at his hands. "It was nice," he said, eyes swinging up to Bucky's, seeing the satisfied smug look on the other man's face. "What else do you want me to say?"

"Absolutely nothing," Bucky said with a grin, seeing the tint of pink coloring Steve's cheeks. "That was your time and I'm glad you've got something that's yours, now."

It still amazed Steve that neither Bucky nor Darcy seemed jealous, but he was still learning how all of this worked. Natasha and Clint had been more than helpful, answering his questions and being brutally honest. When this had started, he'd struggled with his own jealousy, thinking that Bucky and Darcy were together when he wasn't around. It'd hurt, the idea of them having something he wasn't a part of, but Steve was starting to get it. Bucky wasn't angry he and Darcy'd had a weekend to themselves, he was happy they’d had that time.

Would he be happy, knowing Bucky and Darcy were together when he wasn't around?

Steve thought back to being with Darcy in the hotel room. He hadn't felt like he was doing something wrong when he'd kissed her, because Bucky knew that something could happen. There was no hiding, no lying, no covering up what they'd done. Everyone had gone into the weekend knowing the possibilities. That's what Clint and Natasha had stressed to him: this wouldn't work if they didn't communicate openly and honestly.

Would it hurt him to know Darcy and Bucky were together without him? Thinking about it hard, Steve realized it would hurt him, but not in the way he'd expected. It'd hurt him because he wasn't able to be there, not because he wasn't wanted. And that's what it was about. They all wanted each other, no matter what iteration, and if they could be together, then that was amazing. If Steve wasn't able to be there, it made him feel better knowing neither of them would be alone.

Bucky watched thoughts tumble behind Steve's blue gaze, his fingers fidgeting, his cheeks tinted pink. He knew they were still navigating everything, but he hoped that the time Steve'd spent with Darcy had settled something in the blond. He could see it in Steve's eyes, the affection he felt for Darcy, and it made Bucky smile seeing the shy grin turning Steve's lips.

He reached out and threaded his fingers with Steve's, earning him a soft smile from his best friend. "But things were good?"

"Yeah," Steve said, blue eyes lighting with honesty, "things were good. How'd your appointment with Dr. Cho -"

"Rogers! We have a plan of attack or are you wanting us to improv?"

Steve glanced in Tony's direction, seeing the expectant look on the other man's face. He turned back to Bucky, watching the soldier bleed into the gray of his eyes, the uncertain anticipation turning his gaze harder. He stood, feeling Bucky do the same at his back, crossing the cabin and coming to stand around the projection of Wakanda that was floating in the air. "Best plan would be to approach here..."

Darcy pushed into the lab, damp hair hanging around her shoulders, eyes cast down at her phone. She'd gotten nothing - no emails, no calls, no texts - in the three hours since everyone had left, and she was trying her best to believe that no news was good news. I mean, they're probably still flying. Who knows how long it takes to get to Wakanda?

"Six hours, ma'am."

As Friday's voice filled the air, Darcy froze, glancing up at the ceiling with widened eyes. "Did you just read my mind?"

"No, you asked how long it takes to get to Wakanda."

Darcy blinked at Peter. "Out loud?"

"Um... yeah, yes, you said it out loud. That's how I heard it, too."

"I know how speaking out loud works, kid, I just hadn't realized I had said it out loud."

"Well... you did."

"Yes, thank you, Parker, I got it now." When his brow lowered at her tone of voice, Darcy took a deep breath in and let it out slowly, eyes closed, doing everything she could to keep the stress from turning her stomach. She didn’t mean to snap at Peter, but it was hard not to growl when she was already so close to the edge. "I'm sorry. I've got a lot going on in my head right now."

Peter nodded, slapping a screwdriver against his palm as he looked at her. "I know. I heard about your... I'm sorry you lost someone."

When Peter gave her a small sad smile, Darcy felt even more guilty for snapping. He knew all too well what it was like - losing someone important - and despite how awesome his aunt was, Darcy imagined the hurt of losing parents who actually gave a damn was something you never really got over. "Thanks. She was a pretty awesome lady."

"She'd have to be, right?" When Darcy blinked at him, Peter rushed to fill the silence with words. "I mean, since you're, you know, you, how you are, and she probably had a lot to do with that? I mean -"

"I know what you mean," Darcy said with a soft laugh, reluctantly putting her phone down and smiling across the table at him. If she was looking for a distraction, giving the pint-sized baby scientist her attention was as good as anything else. She’d try her best not to freak out over the fact that a jet, full of people she loved, was winging toward an uncertain future. "Hey, what do you say we get dinner before we dive in? It's on me."

"Isn't, the food, I mean, isn’t it free for residents and employees?"

"Let's not get caught up in semantics, kid."

“Was it always this hard?”

“Yes.”

“Are you just saying that to make me feel better, or is it the truth?”

“Can’t it be both?”

Maria Hill sighed, leaning back in the chair, feeling her spine crack as she stretched. She brought the beer bottle to her lips, taking a long drink as she glared across the desk at her mentor. “You know,” she said after swallowing, wagging a finger in Fury’s direction, “when I took this position you said it would be rewarding.”

Fury snorted at her, raising an eyebrow. “Are you saying it’s not rewarding?”

“I’m saying you’re full of sh*t. I get it now, why you wanted to step back. Heavy is the head, right?”

“Things were easier before.”

The bark of disbelieving laughter tore itself from Maria’s chest. “Really, sir? Easier? New York? Sokovia? Berlin?”

“Compared to Thanos and that gauntlet, everything else was a cakewalk.” Fury took a drink from his own bottle, squinting at the artificial window and the moonlight that was streaming in. “Now you’re in the build-up stage. Something new will be on the horizon soon enough. There’s always something, Hill, if I taught you nothing else, I at least made sure you knew that.”

“Any idea what it’ll be?” When Fury’s eye pinned her with A Look, Maria took another drink.

“I can guarantee people will get hurt. Innocents. Friends. Family. It’s the same story. But that’s our job. To narrate it all. To make sure the team is secure, that they’re strong together.”

“But they’re not all together, are they? Barton and Romanoff are off base. Parker and Lewis are here, but everyone else is in Wakanda.”

Fury sighed. “That’s not what I meant by together, and you know it.”

Nodding, Maria stared up at the ceiling as she spun a bit from side to side. “Yeah. But it was funny when they weren’t trusting you, because I knew what the score was, knew what was really going on.”

“And now that they hate you?”

“Hey. Hate is a very strong word,” she said, eyes narrowing at Fury.

“I’m just saying, it’s harder when it’s your name they utter in disgust. But it’s better. It’s better it’s your name and not someone else serving with them side by side. Heavy is the head.”

“But we’re not wearing a crown.”

“No, Hill. No, we’re not. We’re the helmet that all the sh*t is raining down on, but we do it to take the hail of bullets because it gives our men the distraction they need to do the real work.”

“If you had told me, when you first hired me, where I would end up? I’m not sure I’d have taken the spot.”

Fury laughed, shaking his head as he brought the bottle back to his lips. “Now who’s lying?”

Chapter 24: Apart

Chapter Text

"I don't see anything out of place," Tony's voice crackled over the ear piece, "looks like everything’s good on the ground."

"Roger. Setting the bird down."

The dust kicked up by the quinjet swirled on the other side of the window as Steve landed on the airfield just inside of the borders of Wakanda proper. As the engines powered down, Steve made his way to stand next to Bucky, Thor, and Bruce, the bay doors opening and letting in the hot, humid air that always seemed to hang over the land.

"Just because Tony didn't see anything doesn't mean things are fine. Everyone be on guard -"

"What took you so long?"

Steve's lips quirked upward at the booming voice, his feet carrying him down the metal steps. It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the bright sunshine, but when they did, they were greeted by a widely beaming man in jeans and a t-shirt, a small bird emblem on his chest. "You don't call, you don't write, if I didn't know better I'd say you'd gone AWOL."

Sam Wilson laughed, reaching out to clap Steve's hand with his own, pulling the blond in for a quick hug. "Man, when you’re in paradise there's no reason to go anywhere else." His dark eyes flicked over Steve's shoulders, watching as Bucky, Bruce, and Thor joined them on solid ground, giving each of them a nod in turn. "We figured you'd show up sooner or later. Had a bet pool going and everything."

They all turned as Tony landed next to them with a hush of air, metal helm pulling back to expose his face. "And? Who won?"

"I did," Wanda said, landing softly on the dirt, red energy crackling around her hands and feet. She nodded at Steve, a grin lifting her lips softly. "Three days."

Steve smiled at Wanda, glad to see that some of the color had returned to her skin, happy that the dark bags that had found almost permanent placement under her eyes were gone. His chin dipped in Sam's direction, one eyebrow raising.. "What'd you have?"

"A week. At least. Consider me surprised. Figured you must’ve had a bunch of other stuff keeping you busy."

The look Sam gave Steve was filled with the promise of a conversation and Steve chuckled softly to himself as they started walking toward a couple of jeeps waiting next to the small airplane hanger. "Just had a little R&R, that's all.” His mind turning back to the issue at hand, Steve glanced in Sam’s direction. “Comms have been down since Monday?"

The other man nodded. "Yeah, not sure why. T'Challa's people were looking into it but -"

"But they don't compare to my level of technological intelligence or sparkling personality? Got it. See you there." They all watched Tony's mask fall back into place before he rocketed toward the dense jungle.

"He knows how the sh*t he says aloud sounds, right?"

"Oh, he knows," Wanda said with a frown, her accent singing with annoyance. It was clear to Steve that she still wasn’t Tony Stark’s biggest fan, with fair reason. "It's why he does it. He is insecure he doesn’t have his fingers in their science."

Steve grunted, nodding. “He signed the agreement, all the same.”

Bucky frowned. “He just likes being the smartest person in the room.”

“He usually is,” Bruce said, ignoring the glares that were sent in his direction, “but that’s not the case in Wakanda.”

“No,” Steve said as his eyes tracked the gold and crimson suit until Tony was out of sight, “not here.” When Sam fell into step next to him, Steve’s gaze flicked over, squinting against the bright sun. "Nothing else? Increased activity? Missing people?"

"Not that we can tell. T'Challa's increased the guards, just in case, but everything else has been quiet."

"Silence isn’t safety," Bucky said, eyes narrowing softly when Sam bent around Steve's head to glare in his direction.

"No one said we thought it was safe, just said it was quiet," Sam said, words a bit clipped. Steve closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. He'd come to expect the back and forth between Bucky and his friend, but it seemed time and distance hadn't changed how much they liked to needle each other.

"We'll let Tony take a look at what he can then go from there."

"Sounds good. Cap, how 'bout you ride with me, the rest can go in the second jeep?"

Bucky's mouth turned down into a frown at the suggestion, glancing between Steve and Sam. “There's five seats in that jeep."

"Yeah. So you, Thor, Banner and Wanda will fit just fine. Glad we all agree."

Steve couldn't help the wry grin that climbed onto his lips, squinting in Bucky's direction. "We have a few things to discuss."

Bucky itched to tell Steve that he didn’t want to leave his side, not until they knew everything was safe, but he let his mouth fall closed, his concerns unvoiced. He didn’t nod, simply walked toward the other jeep, expression dark.

Steve could tell Bucky wasn't happy with the arrangement, but he gave in and made his way toward the other jeep. Steve turned to Sam, giving the other man a knowing look. "Was that really necessary?"

"Hey, he's the one glowering, not me." Sam jumped into the driver’s seat, waiting for Steve to throw his shield in the back before sliding into the passenger’s side. As Sam started driving into the dense treeline, he glanced over at Steve with a raised eyebrow. "Okay. Start talking. I hear things from Clint, sometimes from Nat. They're careful, but I know something’s up. You gonna just tell me, or are you gonna make me pull it out of you?"

Steve sat back in his seat, flipping the air vent so cooler air blew out toward him. "You know, one of these days that swagger of yours won't work anymore."

Sam laughed lightly, a smirk taking residence on his face as he glanced over at Steve. "But today’s not that day. This swagger is killing it, and you're going to tell me what's going on because you're my friend and I haven't seen you in months. Why fight me about it?"

The certainty in Sam's voice made Steve shake his head, a slightly mystified expression on his features. Steve ran a hand over his face, sighing. "Sam, I.. I don't even know where I’d start."

"Well, we've got an hour's drive ahead of us. Best place to start's gonna be the beginning. I take it the girl that saved all our asses woke up?"

"Yeah, she woke up," Steve said, chuckling softly, "and then everything changed."

Sam glanced in Steve's direction again, eyes searching the other man's face for some kind of explanation. "Man, judging from the look of it, something big went down."

Steve snorted softly to himself. Sam has always been easy to talk to, friendly and open, and even though he knew the other soldier had seen more than his fair share of unbelievable things, this was a whole different level of strange. He took a deep breath, diving in, turning toward Sam for what was bound to be an interesting conversation. "After she grabbed the stone..."

As the jeeps pulled up in front of the royal palace, the group made their way toward the grand steps that led to an immaculately constructed structure, beautiful and opulent, the style and architecture singularly unique to Wakanda.

Sam was laughing as he fell out of the jeep and into the heat and humidity. When his eyes landed on Bucky, his laughter only raised in pitch and volume, bending at the waist and clutching at his stomach. Bucky’s frown deepened. "What's so funny?"

Reaching up to wipe a tear from his eyes which, were dancing with mirth, Sam leveled Bucky with a smirk curling his lips. "You have the memories of a being a teenage girl in your head. That's the funniest sh*t I've heard in a long time. Does that mean you know how to braid hair? Do you remember reading the Baby-Sitters Club? Who's your favorite American Girl Doll?"

Bucky glared daggers at Sam as a new round of peeling laughter fell from the other soldier, then turned his unhappy eyes to Steve, pinning him with a narrowed eyes.
.
Steve, to his credit, shrugged a shoulder and gave Bucky a wan smile. "He asked what's been happening since they left." He could tell his lover didn’t find it particularly funny, but he could see a small grin on Bruce’s face over Bucky’s shoulder, as well as a curious expression on Wanda’s.

"What is a Babysitter's Club?" Thor asked, eyes flicking from Steve, to Sam, to Bucky, none giving an answer to the Asgardian’s question; Sam was still laughing as he made his way up the palace steps, Bucky was glowering at everyone, and Steve was trying his best not to join Sam’s laughter because he knew it would be a bad idea to laugh when Bucky’s eyes were a disgruntled shade of charcoal.

The group made their way up the marble steps, pausing as the immensely large doors opened, a man walking toward them into the sun with several statuesque women behind him. T’Challa moved with grace as he came to stand before Steve, holding out his hand to the other man. "It is good to see you, my friend."

Steve smiled, shaking T’Challa’s outstretched hand. "It's good to see you too, your Highness." He nodded at the women behind the King of Wakanda, watching as they returned the gesture. He knew several of the Dora Milaje by name and had enjoyed their company when he and Bucky had been here after Siberia.

T’Challa’s expression was warm as he looked down at the blond, "please, Steven, call me T'Challa."

One of Steve’s shoulders raised softly as he pulled his hand back. "Old habits."

"Really old. Almost a century, actually." The group looked when Tony landed on the steps, the metal piece hiding his face lifting, his lips turned up into a rueful smile.

Stepping out of the armor, Tony pressed a button on his watch and the device rocketed in the air and toward the treeline. He ignored the look Steve was giving him, bowing his head slightly toward T’Challa. When the king returned his nod, Tony took a step closer. "One of your positioning devices was Waco’d."

The phrase of speech was easy enough to decipher, and T’Challa frowned, feeling his guards behind him shift with uneasiness as well. "What could have caused such damage? We were unable to pinpoint the exact problem.”

Tony sighed. “From the look of it? An EMP of some kind, something I didn’t recognize. Friday’s running diagnostics on it now. Is Menzi still around? I didn’t entirely hate him the last time we worked together.”

Turning his head slightly, T’Challa shared a look with Okoye, the head of the Dora Milaje. She nodded and made her way back into the palace. His gaze swung back to Tony. “I am certain Menzi would be more than pleased to assist you with anything you may need in the morning. Until then, please feel welcome in our lands. My people will show you to your rooms.”

Bucky watched Bruce, Sam, Thor, Tony, and Wanda follow T’Challa’s guards inside, disappearing into the dark interior. He took two steps forward, holding his arm out toward Wakanda’s king.

T’Challa returned the gesture, clasping Bucky’s forearm, smiling warmly at the soldier. “It is good to see you, Sergeant. You seem well.”

“I am,” Bucky said, a small smile crawling onto his face, “and I’m sorry I wasn’t able to stay and help you rebuild.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. Ms. Maximoff and Mr. Wilson have helped in untold ways. What happened to my country was not your fault, and if you had not risked everything, we would not be here, enjoying the sun on our faces and the wind at our backs.”

“That’s a pretty ‘thank you’ that I’m not sure we deserve,” Steve said, coming to stand beside Bucky and T’Challa, squinting against the sun. “The help you and your people provided -”

“Was what was called for, and what was needed. Wakanda had been in the shadows long enough, letting the weight crush others while we kept our hands clean and our memory short. It was time we stood with our brothers and sisters against the darkness. No war is without damage, no fight without sacrifice. Wakanda will continue, as I hope the rest of our friends will.”

Steve nodded, reaching out to squeeze T’Challa’s shoulder. “I’ve missed the way you string words together.”

“Then come, friends, let me use more of them. I have questions about what has happened in the months since we last spoke.” He saw the look that passed between Bucky and Steve, one eyebrow gracefully raising at their expressions. “Have I missed that much?”

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head as he fell into step with Steve and the King. “I guess you could say that.”

When the opening chords of ’Stay With Me’ began to sound from Darcy’s phone, Peter pulled one of his earbuds out, eyes glancing in all directions to find Darcy’s mass of dark curls. Not seeing her anywhere, he hesitated for a second before grabbing the phone and pressing the flashing green button. When Bucky’s face filled the screen, Peter did his best not to appear surprised and put off-guard; he’d expected a phone call, not a face-to-face meeting.

“Oh. Hey, Barnes. Sergeant Barnes, I mean. Sir. Darcy’s… not here?”

Steve glanced in Bucky’s direction, watching as the other man’s lips turned down.

“Is that a question? You don’t know for sure that she’s not there?”

“No! What? No, I know she’s not here. I just, I mean, I’m not really sure where she is.”

“But she was there before?” Bucky’s grey eyes flicked from the phone in his hands and toward Steve, who was sitting against the headboard in their room, an eyebrow raised in Bucky’s direction. “Peter lost Darcy.”

Peter’s slightly panicked voice sounded from the device in Bucky’s hand. “What?! No! I didn’t lose her. I’m not her keeper!”

“I specifically gave you that order before I left.”

Peter’s eyes on the screen widened. “No you didn’t!”

“I said to keep an eye on everything!”

“I thought you meant the lab!”

“You told Peter to keep an eye on Darcy?” Steve asked, smirk deepening when he saw the hint of bullsh*t in Bucky’s eyes. His lover had always had a bit of a wicked streak, but he suspected that Darcy’s sarcasm and flair for the dramatic had taken Bucky’s penchant for jokes up to an eleven.

Bucky turned back to the phone screen, wiping anything but disappointment from his eyes. “If one hair on her head is out of place…”

“Her hair? Have you seen it? It’d be easier herding cats!”

“There was a mythbusters episode on that, and it is definitely impossible to herd cats,” Darcy said, pushing her way into the lab, arms laden with paperwork. When her eyes landed on Peter, red-cheeked with his mouth hanging open, her phone in his hands, Darcy’s hazel gaze narrowed. “You answered my phone?”

Peter held it out toward her. “You’ve been staring at it for the past twenty-four hours! I didn’t want you to miss their call!”

Darcy dropped her papers and snatched it from his hands, taking a menacing step toward him. When she was only inches away, looking up into his wide brown eyes, she darted forward and pressed her lips to his cheek. “Thanks, kid.”

Peter’s eyes somehow grew even wider.

“Did you just kiss him?!”

Darcy lifted the phone, looking into Bucky’s face, her nose crinkling. “Ew! On the cheek, Buck, I kissed him on the cheek.”

Bucky grinned at her, moving so he could sit on the bed next to Steve, holding the phone out in an attempt for both of them to be in frame. “We leave for a day and your lips are already strayin’.”

“Hey, you’ve got a nice pair of kissable lips to your right, so I think you’re better off than I am. Speaking of those lips: lemme see them, Rogers.” Darcy made her way toward the small sitting area at the rear of the lab, falling back onto the couch and holding the phone over her face, grinning.

When Bucky turned the phone so Steve’s face was the main feature, the blond shook his head, his cheeks tinting, rolling his eyes. “Hi, Darcy.”

“Hey, Steve. Is it warm there? I bet it’s warm.”

“Yeah,” Steve answered, reaching out to take the phone from Bucky so he could see her better, “it’s warm here. Really humid, though.”

“Ugh,” she said, a sound of disgust falling from her lips, “I’m much more a fan of fall and winter. Sledding, cocoa by the fire, big sweatshirts. That’s more my jam.”

“… your jam?”

“It means she likes it!” Peter yelled in their direction.

“Are you listening to my phone call!?”

“Is there a reason you can’t go in the hall?”

Darcy smirked up at Steve, hazel eyes filled with amusem*nt as she lowered her voice. “Pete’s getting the brunt of my sarcasm since Tony’s there with you. How is the ass? He fix everything yet?”

“We’ve literally been here for a couple of hours.”

Her eyes rolled at Bucky’s voice. “So he’s failed. I’ll keep that in mind. But everything is… okay? Safe?”

Steve smiled at the thread of worry in her voice. Darcy was putting on a lot of bravado, but he knew better now that she tended to be more caustic when she was scared or upset. She was doing a good job trying to hide it, but after the weekend he’d spent with her, Steve was able to spot it a little better.

Bucky shifted Steve’s hand so he could see Darcy. “We’re currently in a room bigger than the whole apartment building we grew up in, with a tub that’s more like a swimming pool, and a bed big enough for us, you, Thor and the Hulk. We’re safe.”

Darcy sighed dramatically. “I didn’t need those mental images, Buck, but thanks for rubbing it in that you’re currently in paradise. Why do I never get to go to the cool places? Asgard? Wakanda? What, you guys going to Disney next so you can just really turn the knife a little more?”

Steve turned the phone so he could see her face. “Both of us would rather be there with you, Darce, I promise.” The smile that bloomed on her face was sweet, and his expression lit up to match hers.

“Yeah, yeah,” Darcy hummed, her chest tightening when she could see the truth of it in Steve’s eyes. “You’ll get back here as soon as you can?”

“Nothing we want more than to come home to you, doll.”

Darcy grinned at Bucky’s charming words. “Mmmhmm. Well, you keep your lips busy kissing Steve and I’ll do my best to keep mine away from Spiderboy.”

“Hey!” Peter yelled from the other end of the lab.

Darcy’s tinkling laughter sounded from the phone, filling Steve and Bucky’s bedroom with her giggles, thousands of miles separating them but making it feel closer than they were.

“I love you, my boys. Be safe. Call me tomorrow. Or text. Oh! With pictures. Clothing optional.”

“I love you too, Darce.”

“Try and get some sleep,” Steve said, smile widening when she blew a kiss toward the screen before the call ended. He looked over at Bucky, watching the light and easy expression fade the tiniest bit. “You didn’t want to tell her about the EMP?”

“Not until we know for sure there’s something wrong. No use worrying her.”

“But you’re worried?”

“When have our lives ever been easy, punk? Ever?”

“Maybe that’s changing, Buck.”

Bucky’s stomach flipped at the optimism in Steve’s voice, seeing something like hope filling the blond’s eyes for the first time in a while. He couldn’t help but think that the gorgeous dame they’d just finished talking to had quite a bit to do with Steve’s newfound confidence for the world. “Yeah, Steve. Maybe it is.”

*

At the Avenger’s compound in upstate New York, Darcy dropped her phone to the sofa and turned so she could scream her frustrations and worry into the pillow under her head. She took a deep breath, blinking up at the ceiling as her heart rate slowed. She’d seen it in Bucky’s eyes, knowing him more than he wanted to believe, and the small uncertain tinge had been plain to her.

“Friday? Is there a way to watch them in Wakanda?”

“No, ma’am. They were able to get cell service back, but Boss hasn’t figured out the rest.”

“Ugh!” She took another deep breath before climbing to her feet, frowning as she padded across the lab toward Peter. “What are you working on, kid? Give me something to do, please. Something that will keep me busy. The more mind-numbing, the better.”

“You could -”

“Not that.”

Peter pointed toward the quantum analyzer. “Or you might like -”

“Not that either,” Darcy said with a shake of her head. “Come on, genius, use that big brain of yours.”

“Music.”

Darcy rose an eyebrow. “Music?”

Peter nodded, turning back toward the microscope he’d been looking through. “I think we need a new working playlist. Maybe something with a lot of bass?”

Darcy reached up and ran a hand through her hair, considering his request. “I think I could do that.”

“Good.” Peter glanced over his shoulder at her, watching as determination flowed on Darcy’s face, replacing the lost expression she’d been wearing moments before. When she left the lab, presumably to go get her laptop and music collection, Peter smiled to himself.

“Sir, you already have a music playlist for the lab. Several of them, actually.”

“I know.”

Bucky’s knuckles rapped sharply on the door, his head peeking in a second later. “Dr. Chaas?”

“One moment, please, I will be... right…”

Standing into the doorway, hands clasped behind him, Bucky cast his gaze around the office, familiar with the way the occupant of the room could trail off mid-sentence when his mind was busy with something. The office was modern, clean, with a large window showing the sprawling metropolis on the other side of the glass. For as neat and tidy as it appeared, every surface was covered with picture frames.

Pictures of babies. Pictures of children. Pictures of men and women, smiling, shaking the hand of Wakanda’s most esteemed physician. Dr. Masa Chaas’ walls were plastered with degrees, ranging from biotechnology to sociology, and Bucky knew for a fact there hadn’t been enough wall space, so several diplomas and accolades had been shoved in drawers to make room.

The doctor had never really cared about flaunting his education, more interested in the people he assisted, and Bucky counted five diplomas that had been removed and replaced by pictures, like Dr. Chaas holding a baby and grinning brightly at the camera.

“I apologize, that took me… ahhh!”

Bucky’s grey eyes crinkled at the corners with happiness when Masa climbed to his feet, the doctor making a noise of surprise and elation as he rounded his desk, pulling Bucky into his arms and squeezing tightly. “It’s good to see you, too, sir.”

“None of this ‘sir’ speak from you, my friend,” Masa said, pulling back and placing his palms to both of Bucky’s cheeks. “I was not aware you would be visiting!”

“It’s an unplanned trip.”

Masa nodded, taking a step back, his eyes looking at Bucky from top to bottom, a considering look in his eyes. “Yes, I suppose they would have called you when communication was lost. Please, let us put that on hold while we catch up. Come, sit, I was just about to have some of that tea that you enjoy.”

As Masa set himself to work, grabbing another teacup and pulling the pot from the instant heater, Bucky took a seat, hands resting in his lap, glancing out the window. He’d gotten used to that view during his time in Wakanda. He’d spent a lot of time in this room, talking with Masa, discussing his progress, planning on next steps. After Thanos had attacked, everything had stopped. There’d been the battle, the stones, and Bucky had stopped worrying about going back and picking up where he’d left off with the good doctor’s help.

Pushing a cup toward Bucky, Masa smiled, his eyes shining behind his glasses. “How are you, my friend? It has been some time, but you have been on my mind, of that I can assure you.”

Bucky wrapped his hands around the earthenware mug, enjoying the way it warmed his fingers. He’d still never figured out how it could be so hot and humid outside, but in here it felt like a early spring day back in Brooklyn; a crisp breeze making you lift your collar against the cold, but being able to sense summer and it's sweltering heat just around the corner.

“I’m good,” Bucky answered, lips lifting into a smile. When Masa peered over the top of his glasses, pinning him with a look, Bucky chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Today I will tell my truth -”

“- unafraid and prepared to live it,” Masa finished for him, shaking his head emphatically. “Yes, yes. Do not forget so easily what you had built here, Sergeant Barnes. Has so much really changed since I saw you last?”

When he opened his mouth to answer, Bucky couldn’t find the right words to explain the multitude of what had happened since he’d left this country and returned to Steve, to defeat Thanos and his armies. He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I don’t even know where to begin, Masa.”

“I have found that the beginning is the best place, but that is up to you.”

Nodding, Bucky blew delicately on the tea before taking a small sip, testing the temperature. The drink was special, medicinal, and Masa was fond of using it during sessions as a way of grounding. For Bucky, it signaled a safe place, and a person who had never looked at him like a monster, but as a man, even after he’d recounted every horrible detail.

“I can’t remember the last time I had a nightmare.”

“That is wonderful news, James. Have you been seeing someone since we last spoke?”

Bucky shook his head, body singing with satisfaction when the man across from him clicked his tongue, just like he’d thought he would. “There have been things… I’m not even sure how to explain it.”

“You should not be afraid to doubt here. Just tell an old friend what has happened, without fear of judgment. You know this of me, James.”

Nodding, Bucky took a deep breath. He did know that about Masa, and he did his best to recount everything that had happened since Thanos had been destroyed. Masa was focused, asking clarifying questions when it was needed, never making a sound of disbelief, taking everything Bucky said at face value.

He was unsure how long he’d sat there, but when he finished explaining that Darcy and Steve had spent the weekend together, he could see that the sun in the sky had set and twilight had begun to spread over the city and the jungle beyond. Masa nodded, taking another sip from his tea, the second pot he’d made over the hours.

“Do you believe that Darcy is one of the reasons you have found balance? Why your dreams are less haunted?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“And your foundation with Steve is as strong as ever?”

Nodding, Bucky leaned forward. “It was rough at first because he was too stubborn to let us explain it to him, but I think he’s starting to believe it.”

“Then this is wonderful news. I am happy for you, James. I always knew you had the strength to be happy in you.”

Bucky waited, expecting more words from the physician, but they never came. Eyebrows furrowing, he couldn’t help the hint of confusion in his storm-grey eyes. “That’s it? You don’t have any more questions?”

“It is your truth,” Masa said, one shoulder lifting gracefully, unperturbed as Bucky continued looking at him with hesitance. “I have no reason to question how you feel. If you believe you are doing better, can prove it with your own memory, then there is nothing that myself or anyone else should say, else to be grateful that you have found some peace.”

Letting out a long breath, Bucky sat back in his chair, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “Is that what this is? Peace?”

Masa smiled, his eyes warm. “I know you have not known much peace in your time, but I would hope you know to hold onto it with both hands and to not let it go. We take peace where we can. Sometimes it is the feel of a cool breeze on a hot day. Sometimes it is the sound of children’s laughter, floating on the air. But mostly it is when you realize you deserve to be happy, are allowed to be happy, and accept that happiness without letting your fear dampen it.”

Bucky felt the smile grow brighter on his face as he looked into the calming brown eyes across from him. He did feel peace; he felt it when he heard Darcy make Steve laugh, when they managed to throw each other soft glances only to blush and look away, when he could see Steve falling for Darcy, when he saw the happiness in Steve’s eyes. It had grown slowly, like it’d needed to, and watching the two people he loved beginning to love each other… It was everything.

So that’s what it feels like.

“I have enjoyed catching up with you, James. Once our communications are back online, I would love to check in on you from time to time. You are on my mind quite a bit.” As if to prove his point, Masa reached toward a frame on his desk and spun it for Bucky to see.

Bucky leaned forward, squinting at the small picture that had been stuck in the frame of a larger photo. It was him, his new prosthetic arm gleaming brilliantly in the light, Masa’s arm thrown over his shoulder, a warm and welcoming smile on the other man’s face. When his eyes flicked up to look at Masa, Bucky could see that same friendly glow in his deep brown eyes. “I would like that.”

“I apologize for cutting this visit shorter than I would like, but Efia is bringing my grandchild by for dinner and -”

“Oh, I’m sorry, of course. How is Arko?”

“Growing like a fizic weed and being a terror to his mother,” Masa said, pride shining on his face.

Bucky watched the doctor gather his things, happy to walk with him out of the medical building, only a few blocks down from the royal palace, the proximity of great importance for the King’s personal physician. “I’m glad we got to catch up, sir.”

“It was wonderful to see you, James, truly. Give my regards to Mr. Rogers. And James?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Do not let yourself lose the peace you have found, if it can be helped. You deserve much happiness. Truly.”

Not he knew how to respond, Bucky nodded, shooting the older man an emphatic node and a smile. “Have a good night, Dr. Chaas.”

“You as well, Sergeant Barnes.”

Chapter 25: Stuck In War

Chapter Text

“I’m not asking to run naked through your files, I just need to know enough to figure out why this positioning device in particular was targeted. If you need to ask T’Challa for permission -”

“We do not need our King’s permission to grant you what you seek,” Shuri said as she made her way into the lab. She smiled warmly at Tony, nodding her head in greeting. “Is it good to see you again, Mr. Stark.”

Turning at her voice, Tony took a step forward, a large grin lighting his face. “Shuri, how is it you’ve become more beautiful since the last time I saw you? Impossible, yet here we are.”

“Yes. Here is where we are. I’m told that you are requesting access to our systems.”

Tony stepped aside, nodding toward a computer terminal over his shoulder. “I’m not asking to take the wheel. Someone went out of their way to damage that device instead of the others sprinkled around this country, and the only way for us to know why is to find out the what.”

Shuri took a step closer to the computer. “You believe they damaged the device to gain some kind of advantage?”

“Either that, or they wanted to make you blind to a specific type of attack. If that tech was the hub for anything, it might give us a clue.” When Shuri’s arms crossed over her chest and her face turned thoughtful, Tony took a step closer. “My A.I. says the EMP that took it out was different: It didn’t just fry the electronics, it melted them. It microwaved the insides until it was nothing but a lump of metal and then they took that lump and left its casing all over the field. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what’s at the heart of all your tech.”

“Vibranium,” Shuri said, mouth turning down in a frown.

“Bingo. That’s why Thanos attacked here in the first place.”

Shuri shook her head, expression going dark. Thanos had done such harm to their country that thinking about him still set her skin itching. “The Mad Titan is dead. My brother saw him vanish in ash and dust.”

“Oh. I remember. Vividly. I’ve been dealing with all that mess back home. But now? Now we need to figure out what that device was in charge of.”

Shuri crossed to the terminal, lifting her hands until they were poised over the glowing technology. Tony watched with interest as the display lit up with a soft blue light, the screen flashing with symbols too quick for him to follow. He wanted nothing more than to watch, to learn, to study the amazing machine in front of him, but Tony glanced down at his feet.

The deal between Stark Industries, the Avengers/S.H.I.E.L.D., and Wakanda had been agreed upon by all parties, and the treaty was crystal clear. Now that Wakanda was in the global spotlight, it meant the natural resources they guarded were well known. If those natural resources - namely their vein of vibranium - were seized by someone with less than friendly intentions, it could spell utter devastation. Thanos had planned exactly that, and they’d only just been able to fight him and his army off.

If the villain had managed to get his hands on any of it? The war would have turned out very differently.

Letting Thanos focus his attack on Wakanda had been a power play so the Avengers had enough time to find the final infinity gems before the purple bastard could get his hands on them, and for its trouble, the capital city of Wakanda, Birnin Zana, had suffered heavy losses. It was the reason Sam and Wanda had stayed to help; to rebuild, to reach out, to show gratitude.

Without the aid of T’Challa and Wakanda, the planet wouldn’t be making another circuit around the sun.

“There,” Shuri said, pointing to a line of code that floated in the air in front of them, twisting and turning as it glowed. “That positioning device relays all transmissions via the Kimoyo bands.”

Tony frowned, taking a step forward, looking at the display and the foreign symbols. “Your AV devices?”

“They are not just audio and visual devices,” Menzi the engineer answered, a self-satisfied tone to his voice. His eyes widened, however, and he looked over at Shuri. “Princess, forgive me, I know our technology is propria -”

Shuri smiled softly, nodding at the man to stop his words and verbal backpedaling. “It is alright, Menzi. Mr. Stark is here to help. Share whatever knowledge is necessary.”

Tony rose his eyebrow at Menzi before his mouth turned down into a frown. The Wakandan engineer looked a little too smug for Tony’s liking, but he supposed it wasn’t everyday you got to explain how your technology was far superior to Tony Stark’s to Tony Stark.

“The Kimoyo bands are used for national broadcasts and messages, yes, and they can be used in a manner similar to what your people use mobile phones for -”

“Emails, messages, internet, yeah, I got that. Tell me something I don’t know.”

Menzi looked annoyed at being interrupted, but continued on. “Each Wakandan is given a bead when they are born. This bead stores an entire life’s worth of medical data. Blood type, past surgeries, allergies, all this information is stored on the Prime Bead.”

Tony scratched at his chin. “We’ve toyed with a similar idea in the states. Microchips that have medical info, next of kin and emergency contacts for children, storing credit info. It never really goes far because most people see it as an invasion of privacy. A way to track people.”

“And in a country where your government has tried on many occasions to wrestle power away from the people, I can see why that would be a problem.”

The smirk on Menzi’s lips made Tony’s frown deepen.Now he remembered why Menzi had stood out in his memories of the last time he dealt with Wakandan tech: Menzi was an arrogant asshole. Takes one to know one “I hear there have been more than enough uprisings here in your fair country, Menz, so how about we cut the bullsh*t and work the problem.”

Menzi looked to Shuri, who gave him another simple nod, speaking volumes while not saying a word. The engineer’s face wiped of its righteousness and he continued. “Besides the Prime bead, other beads offer a wide variety of uses - ”

A lightbulb went off in Tony’s head and he took a step forward, crossing his arms over his chest and pinning the engineer with a glare. “Let me guess. One of those shiny beads helps with personal and professional security?”

The engineer gave Tony a tight nod. “One of them, yes.”

“Right. So what you’re telling me is that,” Tony crossed to the schematic, pointing to the glowing bit that signified The Great Mound, where the vibranium mines could be found, “this is now free game?”

Menzi looked at Tony with confusion. “How -”

“They’ve targeted your satellite by destroying the positioning device that helps regulate the flow of information on your Kimoyo beads. This makes it harder for different cities in Wakanda to reach each other, particularly to raise alarms should something go down, as the beads are your main form of communication. The positioning device also acts as a server for the data that is held on your beads, which includes medical data.

That medical data most likely lists profession, as well as home addresses. So, if I were a bad guy, all I’d need to do is look through the medical records, cross reference with people that work in the mines and have unrestricted access, find this person, force and or kidnap this person, then use their nifty bracelet to get at the only known reserve of the most advanced and precious metal on the planet? Please, Menz, tell me I’m right.”

When Menzi looked at Shuri with wide, panicked eyes, Tony shook his head, turning his back on the other man, his brown eyes deadly serious as he looked at Shuri. “We need -”

“I know.”

Tony watched as one of the most brilliant minds he’d ever known turned her entire attention on the console, her hands a flash as they hovered over the glowing technology.

“Princess Sh -”

Tony stepped closer to Menzi, blocking his view of Shuri, his face clear of any hint of smugness or ego. “I need you to find a way to warn Mena Ngai, now. They need to increase security immediately. If they’re coming for the vibranium, they won’t wait long to strike.” When Menzi just looked at him, Tony started clapping his hands. “Go! Go! And tell Cap he needs to get there ASAP!”

When the engineer ran out of the room with an appropriate amount of haste, Tony took up station behind Shuri, doing his best to follow the graceful motions of her hands. “Did I overstep?” He looked up to gauge the Wakandan’s response, seeing her glance at him over her shoulder.

“Would you apologize if I said you had?”

“Maybe. Try it out. We’ll see.” Tony couldn’t help the small smile that curled his lips when she turned her attention back to the screen.

“This is something that should have been safe-guarded against,” she answered with a sigh.

“I have a hard time with control issues, so I get it. I’ve been told, repeatedly, that the safest hands are our own. I can’t pretend to know what it’s like being a princess, or royalty, or the damisa-sark, but I know an innovative mind when I see one. Maybe you need to get your hands dirty every now and again. You’re smarter than all of these goons.”

“Those goons are the brightest minds in Wakanda.”

“But not the brightest,” Tony said with a nod in her direction as he leaned a hip against the console, watching her hands gesture with rapid, precise movements.

“No,” Shuri said, lips curling into a satisfied smile, “not the brightest. You are wrong about one thing, though, Mr. Stark.”

“Oh? Just one?”

“I am not damisa-sark anymore. My brother is now The Panther.”

Tony exhaled sharply. “Is that what it means? I just thought it meant the best. I’ve been calling you that in my head for years.”

Her laugh was light and soft, and she let it sit on the air for a moment, biting her lip as she worked. “Do you really think they will be going for the vibranium?”

“It’s what I would do.” When Shuri looked over her shoulder at him, Tony held up his hands. “If I were evil and wanted vibranium for myself, which I don’t. That was always my dad’s gig, not mine. Besides, I like knowing there’s something to compare my genius to.”

“If you are insinuating we are in some kind of competition, I regret to inform you that you are losing.”

Tony smirked at the tone of her voice. “I may be lagging a bit behind, but you got a head start. Besides, the race isn’t over yet.”

“No. No it is not.”

As Darcy pushed into the lab, her hazel eyes narrowed. She’d slept fitfully, unable to catch more than a half-hour at a time. She’d turned her walls to pure black, not even the little glowing stars casting a light in her room, but still sleep had eluded her. She’d tried listening to white noise. She’d tried rolling waves on a beach (which only succeeded in making her pee every forty-five minutes). Not music, not podcasts, not even counting fluffy Thor-sized golden retrievers could do the trick.

Insomnia, maybe, but she had a feeling it’d had more to do with the two halves of her heart being thousands of miles away, worried enough that she’d been able to see it in Bucky and Steve’s eyes.

So, with a lack of sleep, Darcy’s jaw clenched as she saw Peter hunched over at his work station, very obviously wearing the same clothes he’d been wearing the day before.

Which meant he hadn’t left the lab.

Which meant he hadn’t slept.

Which meant Darcy was cranky and had found a target for all that useless frustration.

Darcy crossed to the small fridge, pulling out a bottle of gatorade (blue, because that was Peter’s favorite). She set the drink down, then made a show of dropping her tablet on the metal table behind him.

She was satisfied when Peter jumped off his stool, pulling a earbud out in alarm as he spun to face her. “What? Oh. Hi. Darcy. Good morning.”

“You didn’t sleep.”

“Mm? No. I mean, yes. Yes I did.”

“You walk-of-shaming it?” When his eyebrows knit together, the spark of intelligence dimmer than normal, Darcy gestured toward him. “Those are the same clothes you had on yesterday. Did you get lucky with one of the bots?”

“Ew! No. I just didn’t, I just didn’t change. But I did sleep.”

“In your bed?” Darcy crossed her arms over her chest, one hip jutting out as she glared at him.

“You’ve fallen asleep on the couch in here before. Look, I just was in the middle of something and didn’t want to stop. I mean, I’ve been pulling double duty for years, several, actually, and I still managed to be valedictorian while being Spiderman, so I’m fine, really.”

She didn’t believe his bullsh*t for one second. In the short time Darcy’d come to know Peter, she’d grown fond of the nerd. Maybe she just had a thing for forming friendships with scientists, but she could see it in his eyes that he was exhausted. Bowie save her from people who couldn’t be counted to eat or sleep without someone forcing it on them.

Darcy blinked, watching as his blue strobed dimly in the blackness. It was usually brighter, a pretty robin’s egg with flecks of yellow, but his colors had faded to something more grey than blue. It wasn’t unlike the color of Bucky’s eyes, and she felt her heart seize at the reminder of how far away his beautiful eyes were.

She blinked back to the lab, watching as Peter frowned at her. He followed her hand with his eyes as she wrapped her fingers around the bottle and pushed the blue drink toward him menacingly. “Drink this. You need the electrolytes.”

“There’s, Darcy,” his chin dipped in her direction, disbelief in his gaze, “come on, there’s no way you could tell that just from looking at me.”

“You really want to tell me what I can and can’t see?” Of course he was right, she couldn’t diagnose any kind of medical problems using her powers, but that didn’t mean she’d back off. He needed something, and if he wanted to fight about it, she was game. “Drink it.”

“I’m fine,” Peter said, the words clipped as he turned back to his worktable.

“Drink the gatorade, Peter. You need it.”

“I’m fine, Darcy.”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, and she grabbed the drink bottle in her hand, gauging it’s weight, figuring out how hard she’d need to throw it. “Drink the f*cking thing!”

Peter turned, catching the bottle as it flew through the air at him. Darcy had both hands braced on the table, her breath coming out in angry bursts as she glared at him. “You threw that at my head!”

“I f*cking knew you’d catch it, because I know you, so drink the f*cking blue sugar water like a good little boy and -”

“I am not a child!”

“Then stop acting like one!”

“Just stop!”

There was a bite in his tone that Darcy hadn’t heard before, and she rocked back onto her heels, her arms crossing over her chest as she continued to glare. Peter’s face was flushed, his body vibrating with barely held constraint, and even if he looked like he was ready to blow, Darcy wasn’t afraid for herself; this had been building up for weeks and she was ready for this particular bomb to explode, because tiptoeing around it had gotten exhausting.

“I get it, okay?” Peter dropped the bottle to the table, letting it clatter onto its side. “You, and Tony, and the babying? I know. I know, seriously. If I’m going to be a part of this, of this team, then you need to stop treating me like I’m some kind of child. I’ve earned that, at least. No more ‘kid’ or ‘Spiderboy’. My name is Peter, Pete’s okay too, but everything else goes away, got that?”

His glare at her was harsh, but when she didn’t say anything, just letting his voice ring in the lab until the silence fell on them again, Peter shifted, fidgeting, uncertain.

Finally, after she let out a long exhale, Darcy nodded. “Yeah. I get you, Pete. f*ck, it took you long enough.”

Peter’s face tinted with confusion. “W-what?”

Darcy leaned forward and grabbed the drink, twisting the top off and taking a large swig, grimacing at the aftertaste. “You don’t get respect in this world until you take it. I’ve been waiting for you to tell me off for weeks.”

“Huh? I mean, why? What?”

She rounded the work table, jumping up so she could sit on it, leveling him with her gaze. “Look, when you grow up like I did, you have to be solid, you know? No one was going to give me anything that I didn’t demand, so I learned to be pushy really early. It didn’t really work in my favor when it came to friends and authorities, but I didn’t let anyone push me around, not once I was old enough to stop it.”

Darcy twisted the bottle in her hands, watching the blue liquid swish from one side to the other. “Maybe I see a bit of myself in you, alright? Orphans unite and all that jazz.”

Peter frowned, leaning back against his workbench, looking down at her feet as they swung. “I don’t know if I count as an orphan. Aunt May -”

“- is a very lovely woman who I’ve been emailing with semi-daily, giving updates and assuring her that I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you, which includes dehydration, so don’t make me a f*cking liar, Pete.”

Shaking his head, Peter crossed his arms over his chest, one side of his mouth turning up. “You’ve, you and... you’ve been talking with May?”

“I talk with a lot of people. You want my appointment calendar so you get all their names?” When Peter snorted, Darcy smiled, hands gripping the table of either side of her thighs. “My job in this lab is to keep you alive.”

“Is it, though?”

“Don’t tell me what my job is or isn’t, Parker. Have you learned nothing?” When he rolled his eyes in her direction, Darcy continued, “so when I tell you to drink something because I don’t want you to keel over when your cells have been depleted of water -”

“- that’s not how -”

“- don’t f*cking argue and just let me do my job. You’re the top dog when it comes to the sciency-stuff. I’m the king when it comes to keep you alive. We good?”

It took him a minute, but he nodded, brown eyes flicking up to look at Darcy. “We’re good.”

“Good, because I’m f*cking exhausted and don’t want to have to yell at you anymore. I didn’t sleep at all last night.” Darcy ignored his sound of unfairness and crossed to the espresso machine, rubbing at her eyes. “Let’s work for two hours, then we’ll have a midday siesta, return bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and rock the sh*t out of the science stuff, okay?”

“Okay.”

Steve had a tight grip on the handle above the passenger door in the jeep, trying his best to ride out the bumps, curves, and divots that marred the dirt road. Sam was pushing the vehicle to its limits in the jungle as they rushed to Mena Ngai. Steve grit his teeth when they hit a particularly deep rut and he was pulled out of his seat by the drop, hearing the bottom of the jeep scrape and groan in protest. "Wakanda communications rely on their Kimoyo beads. Since the satellite's down, it's almost impossible for them to contact each other from city to city. If an attack is coming, there's no way to warn them."

"This seems like a failing of their systems," Thor said from the backseat, folded in on himself in an effort to fit in the jeep, "to leave themselves open to such an attack."

"Most of their enemies are from within the country," Sam said, the wheel spinning in his hands as the trees whipped by, more of a green blur that anything else.

"That’s, uh, great, but it didn't answer my question," Bruce said.

Bucky frowned beside Thor, pressed against the door, seeing Bruce in the same position on the Asgardian's other side. "Stark's working with Princess Shuri to get the satellite back on line. We can’t fly there in case they’re watching. They might think they have the element of surprise still. If we can get set before they attack, we’ll have better odds."

"They only just got put on the map, most of the world didn’t even know Wakanda existed until a few years ago," Sam clarified, "so the risk of anyone messing with the satellite from outside of the country is pretty damn low."

"Was low," Bruce said with a frown, looking out the window, closing his eyes as they continued to be thrown from side to side. He was beginning to look a little green around the edges, but he was glad it was due to the rough ride and nothing more.

"Once the satellite's back up, Tony and Wanda will meet up with us. As it is, we're the first line of defense."

Steve glanced into the backseat, catching Bucky's eyes and holding them. They'd spent months in Wakanda, after the battle in Berlin and then longer while Bucky worked with the Wakandan physicians to erase the triggers Zemo had put in place. They knew the people in Wakanda, considered many of them friends, and it was hard to think of them being in danger.

When Thanos and his armies had attacked, Wakanda had lost a lot of people and the vast majority of the capital city was left in ruin. If some group was readying another attack, Steve wasn't sure Wakanda could weather it without crippling themselves further than they already were. Their vein of vibranium was priceless, and there were a lot of people who would murder to get their hands on some, but this didn’t feel like a simple smash-and-grab operation to Steve; since Wakanda had been thrust into the spotlight, they'd worked to ensure their security measures were comprehensive.

Obviously they'd neglected the idea that someone might understand how their computer and communication systems worked. They'd anticipated an armed-forces power grab, not one that targeted their tech. Their agreement and treaty had kept Tony and Stark Industries’ assistance to a minimum. Steve now wondered if that had been the wrong call.

Bucky's metal hand gripped the handle to his left, his jaw clenching as they were tossed back and forth. "What did Stark say about the beads?"

"He said medical data is stored on them, and that the attackers might have stolen the data to find someone with access to the mines."

"That makes sense," Sam sighed, "even Wanda and I were given beads to gain access to places we needed."

Bruce frowned, "but our cell phones work here. Why didn't -"

"They only started working when you guys got here,” Sam interrupted, his voice tense, his eyes focused on the road. “Wakanda's go-to move is shutting everything down until they figure out what's wrong. That's why we couldn't call you."

Steve nodded. "All of our debriefs were via secure messaging, passing through firewalls to keep it covert."

"If I have learned anything during my time on Midgard, it is that the leaders of your realm need to communicate better."

Sam frowned, eyes flicking up to look at Thor in the rearview mirror. "Didn't your dad keep the fact that your brother wasn't really your brother a secret, which basically led to the battle in New York and the alien invasion?"

Thor shifted in his seat. "... I did not suggest Asgard was any better."

Silence fell over the jeep, the only noises the grunts as they were tossed around, and the groaning of the jeep as Sam did his best to keep it on the road.

"What are walking into, Steve?"

Steve looked over at Sam, recognizing the tension in the other man’s face, as he could feel it mirrored in his own. “I don’t know.”

Chapter 26: Absence

Chapter Text

“There,” Tony said, sweat dripping down the side of his neck as he shimmied out from below the newly rebuilt positioning array, taking Shuri’s offered hand as he climbed to his feet. “Everything should be good to go.”

Shuri crossed to the portable device, an advanced laptop that ran the same systems as the one in her lab, her fingers flying as she ran the diagnostics. “It will take a few moments to reboot.”

“We’ll make sure that everything is back up, then run a program to check for any back doors that might have been shoved in your systems. If Friday was in there -”

“Consider me your non-virtual assistant, Tony,” Shuri said with a smile, using the name he’d insisted upon. “I have a program that will analyze for any leaks.”

Tony rose an eyebrow at her. “Why didn’t you use the program before?”

“Because I wrote it two hours ago.”

Chuckling, Tony ran a hand over his brow and glanced down at the grass beneath his feet, a rueful smile curling his lips. “Of course you did.”

“There. Rebooting now.” Shuri took a step back from the console, shielding her eyes with a hand as she squinted up at the positioning device and server. Tony made his way next to her, watching as the device powered up, the sounds of gears grinding making the billionaire wince.

The dish whipped around in a circle before it settled, pointing due west. Tony shut one eye and used his arm to eyeball its direction. “That looks right. Are you getting anything yet?”

“No,” Shuri answered, voice hesitant. “Perhaps I made an error in the code, I wrote it so quickly -”

“Just give it a minute.”

“We do not have the time -”

“Shuri, if I trust anyone in this country to not be wrong, it’s you. The system’s just taking a little bit to adjust, as soon -”

Shuri’s fist pumped into the air, jumping and crying out with a sound of happiness as data began streaming across the screen at a dizzying pace. She held her fist out toward Tony, who knocked his knuckles against hers with a grin on his face.

“Run your program. I’m gonna call Cap.” Tapping his earpiece, Tony listened to a burst of static before he was connected. “Cap? You guys okay? Where are you?”

“We’re in the cafeteria.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed, turning to look in Shuri direction, the woman engrossed with what was coming through her tech. “They attacked the food first?”

“Nobody’s attacked.”

“What do you mean nobody’s attacked?”

*

“I mean,” Steve said, blue gaze sliding to where he could see Sam and Bucky eagerly tearing into their sandwiches, the quiet cafeteria filled with his echoing voice, “that we’ve patrolled the whole place from top to bottom. There’ve been no unauthorized entries, no security breaches. No one’s even called in sick. Thor and Bruce are making another pass now.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know.” It didn’t feel right to Steve, either, but they’d run their checks several times. No one could find anything wrong, not with tech security, personnel security, or physical security. Everything was running exactly as it should. “Any luck getting back online?”

“Everything’s up. I’ll have Shuri send a test message before she opens it up country wide. Tell security it’s on the way.”

“Roger.”

“Evrtinoka?” Sam asked around his mouthful, glancing up at Steve, a glob of sauce on his chin.

“Shuri and Tony got it up.” Steve turned to the head of security for the mine. “They’re sending you a message, will you verify you received it?” The man nodded, leaving them in the empty mess hall. Steve pressed on his ear piece. “Security’s on hold for the message now.”

“Got it. I’ll get back to you in a few.”

Steve sighed, running a hand over his face, still able to feel the jostling jeep ride vibrating his bones, his brain still working through the confusion from their arrival. They’d poured out of the jeep at Mena Ngai with the expectation of chaos, ready for battle, weapons drawn, eyes alert....

… and had been met by confused workers who were going about their day like normal. The group had been stopped by security, puzzled expressions on their faces as Steve explained that they’d been sent by T’Challa to thwart a possible attack. The mines had been aware of communications being down, but when no alarms had been raised they’d seen no reason to believe anything nefarious had occurred.

After Steve asked to speak to the head of security, the group had stood baking in the hot sun, bodies readied for a fight but finding nothing but citizens acting like it was any other Friday. Finally, they’d been led inside and taken down a complicated set of corridors; the mine’s security office was outfitted with the best technology Wakanda had to offer, and Steve had gathered early on that they’d been anticipating an attack that hadn’t happened.

Or hasn’t happened yet, Steve thought, mouth turning down into a frown.

Bucky’d been watching the tension tighten Steve’s shoulders over the past six hours. He could tell his lover wasn’t letting the lack of a battle dull his awareness, the blond’s anxiety and uncertainty keeping him on edge. “You should eat something,” Bucky said around his sandwich.

“I will, just waiting on Tony,” Steve sighed, eyes glancing up at the door the head of security had left through.

“Oyar got the message. Looks like everything’s back up,” Tony’s voice said over Steve’s earpiece. “We’ve run Shuri’s code through several times. Whatever they did, it’s gone now.”

“I don’t like it, Tony.”

“I don’t like it either, Cap. I think -”

“Yeah, we’re going to stay here tonight, just in case.”

“I’ll stay here with Maximoff, keep us in two spots, cover more ground. Whoever did this, it looks like they failed pretty spectacularly.”

Steve hummed, his eyebrows knitting together as his brain turned the problem over. “They targeted the satellite for something, Tony.”

“Look, I’m as pessimistic as they come, but maybe they just wanted the vibranium in the device. Even the little bit they took is worth a nice paycheck. Maybe we got lucky and it’s petty criminals. I think we’re due for some good luck, Steve. We keep on guard for the next few days, leave Wakanda in T’Challa and Shuri’s very capable hands, and go home.”

“Just let me know if you find out anything. We’ll bunk here, call you in the morning.”

“Got it.”

Sighing, Steve sat back in the chair as the static in his ear went quiet, rubbing a hand over his tired face again. When he felt someone standing by his side, he blinked up at Bucky, his blue eyes shining up at his lover, doubt in their depths. “I don’t like it.”

“Here,” Bucky said, thrusting a plate with a sandwich at Steve. “Just like the war: you chow when you can, kip when you’re able, but keep your eyes open. Nothing more we can do.”

Steve took the plate, reaching out to thread his fingers with Bucky’s. “We both died during the war, Buck, not sure that’s the greatest example.”

Bucky shook his head, chuckling softly. “Neither of us actually died, and most of our memories are war, punk. Not much else to draw from.”

Steve nodded, taking a bite of the sandwich, hand dropping from Bucky’s. “We’ll coordinate with the security here, keep someone on patrols, double up. If something’s coming, I want to see it.”

Sam brushed his hands on his pants, coming to stand next to Bucky. “I’m go find Oyar, get everything set up, find a place for us to bed down. I’ll fill in Thor and Bruce, set up a schedule, then send them in for food.” When Steve nodded at him, Sam made his way out of the cafeteria.

Bucky fell into the seat beside Steve, leaning back, crossing his hands over his stomach. “If they were taking the communications down for a coordinated attack, they’ve lost the element of surprise. Now that everything’s back up they know security is going to be tighter. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Tony said maybe they just wanted the vibranium in the device, that’s all that was taken.”

“That’s reason enough,” Bucky said with a nod. “Worth a lot on the black market. Small, easy to transport. If they try to sell it anywhere it can be tracked, so they’d need something in place to keep the sale anonymous, possible dark web, but there’s always a trail. I’m sure T’Challa and his people know how to handle this.”

Steve finished the sandwich, glancing over in Bucky’s direction. “I don’t want to make them vulnerable by leaving too soon.”

“I get that, and I agree, but we can’t be everywhere all the time, Steve. We stay until we’re sure we’ve done all we can, then we go, trust that Wakanda is able to protect themselves, and if they need help, they’ll ask.”

“You sure that the person waiting for us back home has nothing to do with your rush to leave?”

The smirk Bucky sent in Steve’s direction was tinted with disbelief. “You saying you don’t want to get back to her as soon as possible?”

Steve rolled his eyes at Bucky’s expression, looking down at his hands. “No, jerk, that’s not what I’m saying. I’d just rather get back to her with the knowledge that we helped our friends thwart an attack instead of fearing that we left too soon.”

Bucky nodded, his shoulders lifting in a sigh before he climbed to his feet, holding a hand out toward his best friend. “Then let’s get to work.”

“I’m almost positive it’s right through… Oh! Yep, there he is! Thank you so much for the directions, soldier, you’re so sweet.. You really didn’t have to walk me -”

“May?!”

“Thank you again, really, but I’m sure I’m good now.” May turned her attention away from the soldier and toward her nephew, who was looking at her in disbelief, his mouth hanging open. “Peter! It’s really a maze getting back here, isn’t it? Look at all of these machines! You must be in heaven.” May’s eyes widened as she looked around the lab, turning as she took it all in. “Peter! This is insane. I know Stark’s loaded but wow.”

“May, what? What, why, what are you, um, doing here? I didn’t know -”

“Aunt May!” Darcy pushed her way into the lab, an apologetic smile on her face, “I’m so sorry! I totally meant to meet you at the front but they took forever to get your badge printed with my specifications. It’s a great picture though. Look at it!”

“Darcy, using my graduation photo? I knew I liked you. Come here!” May wrapped her arms around Darcy’s shoulders, squeezing her tightly, eyes shining behind her glasses. “Nice to put a very pretty face to the name of the person who’s been putting up with my constant stream of emails.”

“Pfft, it’s fine, I actually look forward to talking to someone who doesn’t speak ‘science’ every other word,” Darcy grinned brightly.

“May, what -”

May gestured to the room at large. “You really weren’t kidding when you told me how cold it is in here.”

“Right? I expect 2001: A Space Odyssey to happen at any moment, despite how outdated and slow the bots are. No offense, Dum-E,” Darcy said, nodding in the robot’s direction. The bot chirped at her happily, oblivious to the slight.

“Darcy!”

May spun toward Peter, a frown on her lips. “Peter Parker, that is no way to talk to your boss.”

“I’m not his boss,” Darcy said, leaning into May, a smile on her face.

“I thought -”

“Technically Tony Stark is his boss.”

“Does he talk to Tony Stark like that?”

“No, but I’d love it if he did. Tony needs a little insubordination from time to time. Keeps him on his toes.”

Peter held up his hands and both women went silent, small smirks on their lips, as he blinked in rapid succession. “I don’t, uh, what, why is this happening? Is something wrong?”

“‘Is something wrong’, he asks,” May said with a shake of her head. “Something has to be wrong for me to want to visit you?” She clicked her tongue and made her way across the lab to Peter, folding him into her arms. “Maybe I wanted to make sure you working here was real. You know, since the last time you told me you were working with Tony Stark was a giant lie.”

“You shouldn’t lie to your aunt, Peter.” Darcy chastised, the glare Peter shot her over May’s shoulder only making her smirk grow larger.

May pulled back, hands on Peter’s shoulders, leaning in to peer at his eyes. “You look tired. Doesn’t he look tired, Darcy love?”

“So tired. We had a conversation about it yesterday. Then we took a nap.”

“She didn’t…” Peter’s words faded as he shook his head, exasperation lifting his shoulders before he mumbled. “May didn’t need to know about the nap.”

“Oh, so you’re going to keep more things from me?”

Peter’s eyes widened, brown gaze flicking up toward his aunt with a look of guilt. “May, that’s not -”

“I know, I’m just giving you a hard time. Ooh, that looks like a very expensive tanning bed...”

As May walked off toward the bit of tech that was definitely not a tanning bed, Peter rushed toward Darcy, his voice low and insistent. “What the hell? You invited May without telling -”

“ - said she wanted to visit and - ”

“ - would appreciate it if - “

“ - just worried about you and you should - “

“ - didn’t we just talk about you respecting - “

“Peter!” Darcy’s growl stopped the flow of words from both of their mouths and she took a step closer to the younger man, resting her hands on his shoulders.

“Look, she wanted to visit and maybe with everything going on… I think we could both use the distraction. Most of this stuff can wait until Tony gets back. Besides, would you rather have Stark here when she visits? C’mon. We’ll show her around, get some food, then send her off with good memories and proof that you’re flourishing under Tony’s tutelage.”

Her nose crinkled when she realized what she’d just said, watching Peter as he did the same.

“This thing’s flashing red! Is that bad?”

“It’s fine, May!” Turning back to Darcy, Peter’s frown returned. “Fine, but I need you to make me look good, okay? May worries, and the last thing she needs to be worrying about is me.”

“Agreed.”

“Quick tour, none of the dangerous parts, dinner, then she’s on her way back to Queens.”

“Sure.”

“And you say you’re my assistant.”

Darcy’s eyes narrowed dangerously at the younger man. “Excuse me?”

“You already told her you’re not my boss! I think she’d like the fact that I have an assistant. Or, like, that Tony and I, uh, share an assistant.”

Her expression didn’t change. “You f*cking with me?”

“Did you really invite my aunt here because you miss your soldiers and have inserted yourself into my life without my approval?”

The fact that Peter had said all that without a hint of hesitation, more than anything else, made Darcy’s glare soften. “I’m the lab assistant and since you’re in this lab, I’m your de facto pseudo-assistant. Final offer.”

“Deal.”

The two shook hands, then turned toward May, smiles splitting both of their faces.

Darcy clutched her tablet to her chest. “I hope you’re hungry because it’s lasagna day in the cafeteria and I’m friends with one of the cashiers so we totally get the friends and family discount.”

“I sleep better when it’s hot and humid. Reminds me of summer days in the boroughs.”

“He says that as if the freezing cold doesn’t remind him of the boroughs, too,” Steve said with a shake of his head, blue eyes seeing the smirk that turned Bucky’s lips. “It was either real hot, or real cold.”

“And then there’d be that one week, right between spring and summer, or between summer and autumn, where everything was perfect.”

The memories of running up and down the Brooklyn streets when he was a kid always had a way of making Bucky homesick and nostalgic. He couldn’t help the way his eyes scoured over Steve, remembering the little blond spitfire who swore in Gaelic and wasn’t afraid to stand up to guys twice his size. His lover was different, but that was all physical. That’s not the reason Bucky had fallen in love with Steve. Not the only reason, Bucky mused, taking another sip of his beer. The alcohol wouldn’t do anything because of his increased metabolism, but just tasting it was enough to bring back memories.

Sam grunted an agreement, a small smile chasing across his lips. “When we were in the sand, you’d sort of forget there was ever a time when it wasn’t blistering. Riley and I would joke about how we’d be wearing parkas when we got home and when people would question it, we’d just tell them that it was a ‘dry heat’.”

“We had to deal with the mud. I’d never seen anything like it,” Steve said, Bucky nodding in his peripheral vision. “Tank after tank getting stuck, only covering a few hundred feet a day. You fell asleep with the smell of it in your nose and the feel of it on your skin and even if you did manage to grab a shower -”

“- which was rare -”

“ - you could never get it all the way off.”

“Until it froze the further north we got,” Bucky added, hearing Steve’s agreed humming.

It was quiet for a few moments, the three soldiers remembering the battles from their pasts, before Sam took the last drink from his bottle and reached for another. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the commiseration,” he said in Bucky’s direction, “but how much is your talking with me because of the vulcan mind-meld you’ve got going on?”

“Upwards of ninety-five percent.” His answer made Sam snort, and Bucky smiled softly as he brought the bottle to his lips. He saw Steve sit up straighter, the easy camaraderie in his gaze disappearing and being replaced with focus. “What is it?”

“You hear that?” Both Sam and Bucky froze as Steve slowly got to his feet, turning an ear, trying to place the sound. It sounded like -

“Glass.”

All three flinched when the lights above their heads grew from dull glow to blinding, hearing the filament pop before the bulbs sparked and exploded. A mechanical noise hummed in the air for a second then seemed to fade away.

Sam reached up and pressed the release on his wings. There was no reaction from the tech. “EMP.”

A barrage of gunfire sounded from outside, joined by the screams of miners and guards. The hair on the back of Steve’s neck stood at attention when he heard the familiar yell of the Hulk and the whistling of Mjolnir as Thor took flight. Steve was headed toward the door as a flash of lightning lit the windows.

“I hate it when you’re right,” Bucky said with a growl at Sam, both of them rising to their feet and chasing after Steve.

Darcy’s hazel eyes glanced toward her phone when it chirped at her. She put her book down on the table, casting a glance toward Peter, who was passed out on the couch in the lounge, limbs akimbo and snoring softly. When she hit the little green button, she was greeted by the expectant expression on Tony’s face.

“You screening my calls? Took you long enough to answer.”

“Shhh, you’re going to wake the kid,” Darcy said as she grabbed her phone and frowned at Tony, her voice a hush.

“I thought we decided we’re not calling him ‘the kid’ anymore.”

Darcy snorted. “We’re not calling him that to his face. Big difference.”

“How’s my tech. You break it already?”

“You have a receipt for the spectrum analyzer, right? We might need to check on its warranty and possible liquid damage, unless you think blue gatorade will improve it’s analyzing abilities?”

“Haha. Funny. Anyone every tell you you’re hilarious? Probably not. Tell me you’re at least doing your job? Are you working on Dum-E’s spatial and fine-motor skills?”

Darcy glanced down at her feet, where the robot was very carefully painting her toenails a vivid shade of blue. When the bot heard Tony say his name, it dropped the brush and bottle, the blue oozing out onto the tile floor. Her eyes widened slightly, but she managed to keep much of her expression the same. “...yep.”

“We’re almost done here. Got the satellite back up, communication’s restored. Not sure what they were planning, but it went boom pretty fast.”

“You don’t know what they were planning? Aren’t you supposed to be some kinda genius?”

Tony rolled his eyes and set the phone down on his end, pushing his chair backward, fingers typing against a laptop in a very minimalistic but swanky office. “Shuri wants me to update a version of Friday into her files, see if maybe having my A.I. system can keep this from happening again. I’ve got to take her down on your side, too. You running anything on the machines?”

Darcy glanced in Peter’s direction, then back at Tony. “No, he got all his homework done before naptime.”

“Perfect. Should only take a second. Let me know when she’s down.”

“Mmmhmm,” Darcy hummed, leaning her elbow onto the table, chin in hand, holding her phone out so she could watch Tony work. She looked up when a tinny voice came over the speakers in the lab.

“Friday. Powering down.”

“You’re all good on this side,” Darcy said, covering her mouth with a hand as she yawned. “How are my boys?”

“I’m going to ignore you called them that. They’re not here.”

“What do you mean they’re not there?”

“They’re here here, but not here. Different city. We’re going to head -”

Darcy frowned when Tony stopped mid-sentence, pulling her attention from where she’d been inspecting the polish on her feet. “Stark?”

“There’s somethi -”

The very distinct sound of gunfire echoed from Tony’s side of the screen and Darcy watched as he climbed to his feet, peering out the window he was seated next to. He turned toward his phone, his mouth moving, yelling, but all she could hear now was silence. “Tony!?”

In horror, she saw a flash of bright light, followed by the screen going black. When the words Lost Signal strobed at her, she looked up in a panic, fear gripping her heart. “Peter! We need to get to Wakanda!”

Peter skidded to her side in seconds, eyes wide, the last bit of sleep in their depths fading instantly. “Wh-what?”

Darcy turned toward him, fingers gripping his upper arms. “I was talking with Tony and something happened. The line went dead, but I heard gunfire and saw a flash -”

“Darcy, are you sure -”

“Yes, I’m f*cking sure!” She said, emphasizing it with a shake, “we have to get there!”

Brown eyes looking lost, Peter shook his head, voice uncertain. “I don’t, I have no idea how to get there! Friday! Can you -”

“She’s down,” Darcy said, her voice rising in both pitch and volume, realizing how cut off from everyone she and Peter seemed to be. “Tony was taking her down when all this started!”

“Then how -”

Darcy’s eyes widened and she looked at Peter with a triumphant expression. “Clint! And Natasha!”

Peter frowned. “They’re not on base, remember?”

“f*ck!” Darcy yelled, running a frantic hand through her hair, pulling on it slightly, leaving it only more wild than it’d been before. She closed her eyes, mind running over everything she knew, trying to figure out what to do. Her feet took her in a quick circuit around the work table before she paused then spun around to pin Peter with a harried look. “Do you know how to drive?”

“W-what? No! I’m from Queens!”

f*ck. f*ck! What other option do we have? “Well, buckle up, Pete, because you’re about to learn. Come on. Grab your suit.”

“You should grab yours, too.”

Darcy had been running for the door when she skidded to a stop, turning to look at Peter with an incredulous expression on her face. “My what?”

Peter didn’t answer her, dashing toward one of the large cabinets that housed their tools. He pulled out a case and slid it across the floor toward her as he began rooting through the drawer at his workstation, pulling out cartridge after cartridge of webbing. “Tony made you a suit. He was going to give it -”

“Less talking, more running,” Darcy panted, grabbing the case and holding it under her arm as she waited for Peter to grab his stuff. “We’re gonna hotwire a car -”

“ -hotwire? -”

“ - then you’ll be driving.” She finished, knowing how insane it sounded, even as it fell from her lips. The panic coursing through her body made her feel like there was electricity in her blood, like she was humming with power. When she glanced down at her arms, she saw the palest bit of amber light shining under her skin.

f*ck. No. Not now. Calm down, Lewis. You can’t lose it now. You gotta control this. You have no other option.

“This is a horrible idea,” Peter said as he ran up, backpack thrown over his shoulders. “I don’t know how to drive! We don’t even know where Clint and Natasha are!”

Darcy let out a deep breath, closing her eyes, still able to see the soft glow through her eyelids. She took a deep breath and blinked amber eyes at Peter. “Leave that part to me.”

Chapter 27: Shattered

Chapter Text

“How did you learn -”

“I’m in possession of a large skill set,” Darcy grumbled, pulling out a knife as she crouched under the steering wheel of Tony’s fastest car. She wasn’t actually sure if it was the fastest car he had at the compound, but it was pretty, and most ridiculously fast cars were pretty. It could also seat four, which is what they’d need; if Peter and her survived the drive out to Barton’s Secret Farm, the younger man would definitely not be driving on their return. With any luck the agents had taken a quinjet to the farm and they’d be able to fly back.

Her stomach flipped at the idea of flying, but Darcy pushed the nausea down. She already felt like throwing up - out of fear, and anxiousness, and uncertainty - and her phobias would need to take a backseat to every other emotion turning her belly.

“So that means you know how, I mean, you s-stole cars?”

Darcy’s fingers were shaking so badly that she made a yelp of pain as the blade sliced against her finger, already feeling the sting as blood began to pool. “f*ck,” she shouted, clenching her jaw as she grabbed the knife with renewed, anger-laced purpose.

“No, Peter,” she said, focusing on the wires and her task, using the conversation to ignore the fear and doubt welling inside her chest, “I know how to hotwire cars because my second foster father showed me, Because he stole cars and my hands were smaller. which meant he kept me until I grew bigger hands, until I wasn’t worth keeping around anymore.”

She heard Peter shift uncomfortably behind her, heard his exhale of breath. “Darcy -”

“Yes!” The rumble of the engine was loud in the garage and she crawled out of the floorboard and to her feet. There was a look of surprise on Peter’s face, tinted heavily with uncertainty. “You’re going to be fine,” she assured him, “driving isn’t that hard. This is an automatic, so once you have the gas and brake pedal figured out it’ll be easy. I can’t believe you’re, like, the smartest kid alive but don’t know how to drive.”

“I know how to do it in theory, but I know how to do a lot of things in theory. But real life?”

“Well, this is real life, and we really need you to pull this off.” Darcy left him near the open drivers side door, crossing to the passenger side and climbing into the car. Peter threw his backpack and her case into the backseat, climbed in, and shut his door.

The car was quiet for a long second as they both dealt with the flurry of thoughts in their heads. Finally, Peter turned to Darcy, brown eyes wide. “Why can’t you -”

Darcy shook her head, cutting off his words, her voice rushed and trembling. “I’m going to go into the blackness, focus on Clint’s purple, and direct you.”

Peter looked at her, eyes widening even further. “That, the stuff, the blackness you go into, how -”

“I know what Clint’s soul looks like. If I focus, I should be able to find him.”

“Should be able to?”

Darcy sighed, looking over at him with fear in her eyes, too. This was probably a mistake, putting them both in this danger, but the desperation to do something was screaming louder than her fear. “I haven’t done it before, not like this. Avoiding Tony when I’m annoyed with him, sure, but I never went farther out of the compound. I stayed local.”

“And this place might not be local?”

“I didn’t think asking Clint how far away his secret farm with his secret family lived was an appropriate question to ask at the time, Pete.” When Peter nodded, his hands gripping the steering wheel, Darcy reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. “Right pedal is gas. Left is break. You switch gears here. When we get out of the garage, play with the pedals. Find out how much you have to press to go, how much to stop. Stay in your lane, use the signal here to switch lanes or take turns. I’m hoping we won’t get a lot of traffic, considering where we are.”

“Why don’t we find the director? Or grab another soldier?”

“Hill’s not here, I checked for her. I don’t want to grab just any soldier in the hallway, in case this goes south. None of them will know where Wakanda is, anyway. We’re getting Clint and Natasha because they’re our best shot at getting what we need, getting to Wakanda, then helping everyone. We gotta do this, Peter. Please. Can you do this?”

She wasn’t sure where the abundance of composure was coming from, but she had a feeling it was coming from Bucky, from his years of combat missions and training in high-stress situations. Darcy thought about drawing on his memories to fly one of the quinjets, but first? The thought of throwing up while flying didn’t seem like a really good idea. Second? She wouldn’t be drawing from Bucky’s memories, she’d be drawing from The Soldier’s, and she tried to stay as far away from those memories as possible.

Peter’s brown eyes softened as they looked at her, seeing the ‘barely held-together’ look on Darcy’s face. He knew things were bad, and he could see in her eyes how scared she was. He gave her the most reassuring smile he could muster. “I can do it, Darcy.”

Her smile was small and tight, but she was about to do something she’d never wanted to do: Pushing with the stone, in an uncertain environment, without the safety of Tony and Bruce, or her music, or her mantra... She’d be in the black for longer than ever before. When her stomach turned, she grit her teeth and pointed toward the garage door. “Warp speed, Mr. Sulu.”

The sounds of gunfire and fighting grew louder as Steve ran down the hallway, skidding to a stop just outside the main entrance to the mine’s administration building. His eyes took in the battlefield. It looked all too familiar, like some horrible case of déjà vu; the creatures attacking weren't terrestrial, a mish-mash of alien races, mercenaries for hire, what was left of Thanos' army. S.H.I.E.L.D. had done their best to round them all up, but some had simply disappeared and trying to track them had been fruitless..

"Steve!"

Steve turned at the sound of Bucky's voice, watching as he and Sam ran toward him, focus and battle already coloring their gazes. "Thanos' muscle,” Steve offered, “alien weaponry. Need to get the civilians to safety first. Best to have them barricade themselves inside, a place with no windows and minimal entry points."

"On it," Sam said, darting away on foot, his wings out of commission due to the EMP.

"They waited,” Bucky growled, “why'd they wait?" He ducked as a flash of green flew over their heads, sizzling with heat and crackling with energy. It hit the stone building behind them, carving out a good-sized chunk of the facade.

"They were testing when they took down the satellite, seeing if it would work," Steve bit out before he lifted his shield, deflecting a beam of light, watching as it ricocheted to the ground harmlessly near their feet. "We won't be able to reach Birnin Zana by comms. We're on our own out here."

Bucky shook his head, gun in hand and firing, calling to Steve over the roar of fighting and the screams of civilians and creatures alike. "They planned this. They're probably attacking the capital right now, waited until our forces were split."

"Well, it worked," Steve said as he tossed his shield, knocking an alien away from a woman who was prone on the ground. The disk flew back toward him and he caught it easily, watching at the woman ran toward the buildings and relative safety. "We have to stop them here. We need a solid mass of soldiers in front of the entrance to the mines. It's what they're here for. Don't let them get it."

Bucky’s grey eyes slid to Steve, sharing a look that was heavy with words unsaid. They'd danced this dance forever, longing gazes as bullets rained around them, chest pounding in fear for the other, even as they put themselves in harm's way. It didn't get any easier, would never be easy, but it was their job, and people would get hurt if they didn't push their own feelings aside and focus on the mission. "Don't make me kick your ass for dying, punk."

Steve thought about yelling something back at Bucky, but ended up just watching him sprint away, toward where the majority of the security forces had centralized. He shouted as a bit of purple glow hit his upper arm and pushed him back several inches, his skin sizzling where it’d burned through his suit. His eyes narrowed, looking up at the creature who’d hit him. Its skin was blue and when it opened his mouth, Steve saw several rows of jagged teeth.

The scream from the fighter as it charged was nothing short of unnerving, high pitched and loud, and Steve grunted when it hit his shield at full force, pushing Steve across the dirt until his back was pressed against the wall. Dodging to the right, Steve avoided a hard punch that decimated the stone behind him. His fist connected with what he assumed was the creature's snout, earning a howl of pain and a second to retaliate. Steve fell to his side, reaching out to grab the fighter's discarded weapon, firing two quick blasts into the alien's stomach, watching as it crumpled to the ground and didn't get back up.

A flash of green across his field of vision and Steve watched as the Hulk threw himself into a group of three creatures, all of them shouting with pain as Hulk brought his large fists down on them, again and again and again. When he was satisfied with the amount of alien goo on his hands, Hulk jumped away, finding another target.

“On se revoit.” We meet again.

Steve’s blue eyes narrowed as he recognized the voice behind him. He turned slowly, vindicated when his gaze landed on Georges Batroc. The last time he’d faced the man was on the deck of the Star of Lumeria. He’d gotten intel that Batroc had thrown his allegiance and fought with Thanos’ army, but it’d all been rumors, nothing confirmed. More than just rumors, now. Confirmed. Very confirmed, Steve thought to himself as his jaw clenched.

“Thanos a payé assez pour vous garder fidèle même après sa mort?” Thanos paid enough to keep you loyal even after his death?

Batroc smirked at Steve. “Je suis une personne très loyale, si le prix est juste.” I am a very loyal person, if the price is right.

Steve shook his head and pointed to the dead alien just feet away, keeping his eyes on Batroc in case he made a move. “Ces choses veulent détruire notre planète.” These things want to destroy our planet.

“Comme nous le savons maintenant, il y a beaucoup d'autres planètes.” As we now know, there are plenty of other planets.

Fingers flexing in his gloves, Steve placed his shield on his back, squaring his shoulders at the other man. “Je te donne une chance, Batroc.” I'm giving you one chance, Batroc.

“Je ne vous en donne pas.” I'm not giving you any.

Batroc flew in the air, his kick blocked by Steve's arm. Steve used Batroc's momentum, flipping backward, raising his shield and blocking another well placed kick. Steve looked up in time to see Batroc stay low, his leg sweeping, trying to catch Steve off guard.

Steve spun to his feet, grunting when Batroc landed a kick to the middle of his chest, arms cartwheeling as he was push backward by the force of it. Steve rolled out of the way as Batroc's heel pounded into the dirt where he'd just been, the mercenary's eyes wide as he spun, leg lashing out.

Kick. Jab. Jab.

The flurry of blows was quick, relentless, and Steve blocked just as many as he took, his chest and arms already pulsing with pain at the weight behind Batroc's punches and kicks. When the other man gave him an opportunity, Steve hit him hard with his shield, knocking him backward and to his ass on the ground. It only took a second for Batroc to flip back to his feet, his eyes narrowed before he shot forward again.

The sound of Batroc's fists and feet as they hit Steve's shield sang through the air. When Batroc left himself open, Steve darted forward and grabbed the other man's shoulders, bringing his knee into Batroc's gut, once, twice, and again. The mercenary grunted in pain before breaking contact, ducking to avoid a right hook Steve aimed for his chin.

They advanced and retreated, blows landing, blows glancing, dodging and weaving, for a minute neither having the upper hand. A well-placed elbow caught Batroc off guard and he stumbled backward. Steve took advantage, using the momentum to toss his shield, watching as it hit Bartoc in the stomach. Steve jumped and used both feet to kick the shield, driving Batroc to the ground with a groan of pain. Steve kicked the edge of the shield, springing it back onto his arm.

Steve only had a split second to see the flash of silver before Bartoc was shooting. He rose his his shield, deflecting the bullets, waiting for a pause in the firing. When it came, Steve's head darted up, blue eyes widening. He chucked his shield with a growl of power, watching the blur of red, silver, and blue as it flew over Bartoc's head and crashed into an alien creature who’d been about to make a killing blow on a Wakandan security guard.

Steve shouted as several of Batroc's bullets hit him in the chest, his suit keeping them from embedding in his skin, but still able to feel each of them like a hard kick to the gut. He fell to one knee, bracing himself before he ran at Bartoc, tackling the man to the dirt. They scrapped, trading blows, rolling, faces bleeding as fists and elbows connected.

Steve’s arms took the brunt of the impact when Bartoc lifted both fists and brought them down like a hammer. His knee connected hard with Bartoc's groin, and Steve watched as the other man's face turned red. Steve was able to flip them, his punches raining down hard. Batroc was dazed, Steve could see it in his eyes, and he lifted his fist to take Batroc out of the fight.

Steve grunted in pain before his punch ever had a chance to land, the world whizzing by in streamers of colors as he went flying through the air.

“Wilson!" Bucky's volley of gunfire took out the alien that was about to tackle Sam from behind, an oversized and jagged sword as black as night falling uselessly to the ground, the creature’s orange blood pooling in the dirt.

“What the hell!” Sam had ducked as the bullets flew over him, punching the creature he’d been squaring off with one last time before he rose to his feet with a glare in Bucky's direction, "you could have warned me!"

Bucky ran up to the other man, gray eyes scanning the battlefield, cataloging each fighter as friend or foe. "I yelled your name, jackass!"

"Jackass? I’ve never heard you - look out!" Sam tucked his neck and dove at Bucky, taking them both to the ground as a barrage of green flashes flew over their heads, killing two of the aliens behind them.

"We need to protect the mines, Steve wants the security centered there." Bucky rolled to his side, coughing on the dust as he climbed back to his feet. He held a hand out to Sam and helped him up.

One of Sam’s hands pressed into his side, the other shifting its grip on his gun as he winced. "He think they're after the vibranium?"

"You know any other reason why they'd attack here?"

"You mean, besides the fact that half of the Avengers are here? That ain’t good enough?"

"Oyar!" The head of security jogged toward them, his head down, an advanced Wakandan weapon in his hands. Bucky placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling the man in closer so he could be heard over the fighting and gunfire. "We need your people at the entrances to the mines!"

Oyar nodded at Bucky, then motioned to two of his men, drawing them closer. He barked orders and the soldiers ran off in separate directions, faces determined. "Our comms are down."

"They used an EMP. We can't rely on others coming to bail us out. It's us and them," Sam said with a shake of his head.

"We are outnumbered three to one."

"I think that sounds about right. That sound right to you, Barnes?" Sam looked over at Bucky with a challenging look on his face.

"I guess I'll have to pick up your slack then," Bucky said, giving Sam a smug look before he sprinted away with Oyar.

"I still f*cking hate you," Sam growled to himself, rolling his eyes before he chased after Bucky.

“West.”

The word from Darcy’s mouth was said through her teeth, and Peter glanced over at her with worry. Her skin was pale, even while lit from within by that unearthly glow, and she was covered in a sheen of sweat. He watched her chin wobble, another tear sliding down her cheek. “We should stop, give you a break.”

Darcy shook her head, wet strands of hair sticking to her forehead and neck. “Can’t.”

Everything hurt. She was aching in her bones, agony in every muscle, and the stone’s voice was right; Darcy wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep this up. They were close, she could tell, but if they didn’t get there quickly she wasn’t sure what would happen. Would it be like the stone said? Would she slip away? Would it take over?

She was on the precipice of something bad and the taste of fear on her tongue was thick. Only her grip on the door handle kept her grounded enough to hear Peter, and even then his voice sounded like she was underwater, muted and faded. She was losing. f*ck everything, but she was losing.

“If we don’t get there soon -”

“Left! Go left!”

Peter reacted immediately, turning the wheel sharply, the rear end of the car drifting to the right before he corrected, trees flying by as they sped through the forest. If there hadn’t been a road there, he wasn’t sure what he’d have done; he knew Darcy couldn’t see anything but blackness, but he’d had to backtrack several times already to get where she directed him.

When they got back, Peter was going to redouble his work on her neural dampener. He wasn’t really sure if it would help with this particular power, staying in the dark and searching for a specific soul, but anything had to be better than what she was having to do now. “Darcy, we can’t -”

“So close, his purple, her orange, it’s right there,” she sobbed, blind eyes seeing nothing of what was flying past the window. Darcy’s fingers curled into fists, more tears leaking from the corners of her eyes as it took everything she had not to pass out, not to give into the voice.

Darcy shook her head, in too much pain to speak, agony stealing her words. Before the black took over, she screamed that she wasn’t giving up, that she’d never give up, even if the stone killed her, she’d take it down with her, if that’s what she had to do.

“Where, Darcy? I don’t see -” Movement in his peripheral vision drew his gaze, and Peter’s eyes widened in a panic as he watched her body begin to seize. “Darcy! Hey! Darcy!”

He felt the car shudder and shouted as the wheels left the road, jerking the steering wheel, hearing the groaning and protests as he managed to get it back on the road. He risked another glance at Darcy, his heart plummeting as she was still shaking, her skin glowing brighter and brighter. Peter’s eyes widened with familiarity and he slammed his foot on the brake, the gravel road making the car screech as he fishtailed to a stop. He threw it into reverse, glad that Darcy’s seatbelt had kept her in her seat.

Peter pressed his foot on the gas, flying past the purple mailbox with a giant black arrow on the side, glancing over at Darcy every few seconds, his face in lines of worry and anxiousness. She’d stopped seizing but he knew she wasn’t alright, she was nowhere near alright.

He skidded to a stop in front of a large farmhouse with a big front porch, throwing the car into park and scrambling out of the drivers side. “Barton! Romanoff!” He flew around the car, pulling open Darcy’s door and leaning in to unbuckle her. He shouted their names again as he tugged Darcy out of the car and laid her on the ground beside it.

Natasha appeared at Peter’s side within seconds, kneeling on the grass next to him, her green eyes looking over Darcy’s body for visible wounds. “What happened?”

“She was in the black for over two hours, trying to find you guys, then she started seizing.”

“What happened?” Clint said running up to them, bow in hand, his eyes widening when they landed on Darcy, pale and sweaty, her body limp.

“Everyone’s in Wakanda, something went down. We need your help.”

“Clint? Tasha? What’s going on?”

“Laura, get your bag!”

Peter glanced up to see a woman with dark hair dart back into the house, then his worried eyes swung toward Natasha. “We have to get back to the compound.”

Clint shook his head. “Not until we get her stabilized.”

“But everyone -”

“Will agree that we needed to make sure she was safe before we did anything else,” Clint interrupted, looking up as Laura ran back down the porch steps, a large yellow bag slung over her shoulder.

“She was seizing, then this,” Natasha offered, watching as Laura dropped to her knees and unzipped the bag.

Laura’s voice was calm and professional as she pressed fingers to the side of Darcy’s neck, glancing up at Peter. “What do you know about her? Any allergies? What were her symptoms?”

“No allergies,” Peter said with a shake of his head. Darcy’s scans and blood work had been seared into his brain from reviewing her file, he probably knew her body better than she did, “she has new neural architecture that opens and dilates as she uses her powers.”

“Good is open?”

“Good is closed.”

“Got it. Here,” Laura instructed, handing Natasha a small foil package, turning her attention back to the bag. Natasha grabbed the neckline of Darcy’s baggy sweatshirt and pulled it down, exposing her upper arm. She ripped the package open and rubbed the alcohol wipe on Darcy’s skin, then moved back out of of the way.

Laura leaned over Darcy, penlight in hand, and lifted one eyelid to check for pupil dilation. She made a surprised sound when she saw the amber color that had taken over Darcy’s entire eye, still glowing, though much dimmer than before. She glanced up at Clint. “Is that normal?”

“More or less,” Clint said, sharing a look with Natasha over Darcy’s body, “it’s part of her powers.”

Nodding, Laura checked Darcy’s other vitals before she reached back into the bag, pulling out pre-loaded syringes, obviously hunting for one in particular. Her fingers ripped open the packaging when she found what she was looking for, tearing off the guard tip and pressing lightly on the plunger to rid it of any air bubbles.

Peter shook his head, leaning his body over Darcy’s protectively. “W-wait, hold on, you don’t know what that’ll do to her, what if it -”

Both Clint and Natasha’s moved in unison, arms pushing Peter back, holding him, giving Laura enough room to work. Nimble fingers injected Darcy’s arm and Laura pulled back, warm brown eyes lit with concern as she waited for any changes. She bent over Darcy, pressing her ear to the other woman’s chest. “No heartbeat, starting chest compressions,” she bit out, teeth clenching as she pulled back and started pressing on Darcy with practiced hands.

“What happened?” Clint demanded again, pinning Peter with a glare.

“She, I mean, Darcy was talking with Tony, they were video’ing, and something happened, gunfire, and then the phone went dead and she was screaming and Hill’s gone and you guys were here and we needed to find you.”

“Why did you let her do this?” Clint’s words held a thread of accusation as they looked at Peter, who rightfully looked taken aback. Seeing Darcy lying pale on the ground dug at Clint, unable to help feeling protective of the woman he’d known for months and had come to care for.

“Hey,” Natasha said, green eyes following Laura’s precise movements before they flicked up toward Clint. She was well used to Clint attaching himself easily to the people he worked with, but protective paternal tendencies would do nothing to help the situation. “It’s not Peter’s fault.”

All three of them looked over when Laura stopped compressions and pressed her fingers to the side of Darcy’s neck. “Still nothing.” She frowned, mentally working through her a checklist. When an idea brightened her eyes, she looked at Natasha. “Tasha, in the bag, I need the blue pen for -”

“Got it,” Natasha said, hands already digging. She held out what looked like a thick pen and Laura’s slim fingers took it, bringing it down immediately into Darcy’s bare thigh, thumb on the plunger, pushing.

Everyone watched Darcy’s chest, waiting for it to rise and fall.

When it didn’t, Laura cursed and began looking through her syringes again, eyes focused, ready to try the next thing.

“Hey!” Peter shouted in alarm when Natasha’s closed fist came down on Darcy’s chest with a heavy thud.

Immediately, Darcy took a deep, shuddering breath inward. Peter sagged with visible relief, leaning back against the side of Tony’s car, body deflating. Clint and Natasha shared a small, tight smile over Darcy’s body, eyes softening with relief.

Laura nodded, taking charge. “Clint, grab her legs and hold them up. Tasha, run inside and grab some blankets and water.”

Peter watched Natasha move instantly, disappearing into the house. He turned back to Laura, brown eyes wide, then looked down at Darcy with concern. She hadn’t opened her eyes yet, but the glow had returned to her skin. “Is she, you know, is, is she going to be okay?”

“Peter. It’s Peter, right?” Laura could tell the younger man was worried, his face still pale, his hand clutching Darcy’s. When he nodded, she tried to smile at him as reassuringly as possible. “You did great, getting her here. Now, I need you -”

“Пожар в моих венах.”

Peter frowned then leaned forward, unsure if he’d actually heard the words come from Darcy or if he’d imagined them. Even with his superior hearing, he wasn’t sure. “Darcy?”

“Пожар в моих венах.”

Eyebrows raising up toward his hairline, Peter looked between Clint and Laura, confusion on his face. “I don’t, what, is that? Not english?”

Natasha appeared as if by magic, brows knit together, eyes focused with a flash of familiarity, as she looked down at Darcy. “What did she say?”

“Пожар в моих венах.” Fire in my veins. Darcy repeated. Her eyes stayed closed, but her face contorted as if in pain, her voice nothing more than a breath, nothing more than a whisper.

Natasha bent closer to Darcy, reaching out to push a piece of sweaty hair away from the other woman’s forehead. “Где болит?” Where does it hurt?

“Везде. Так устал.” Everywhere. So tired.

“теперь ты в безопасности, Дарси.” You’re safe now, Darcy.

“Черный. Не могу выбраться. Пойманный в ловушку.” Black. Can’t get out. Trapped.

“Кто у вас в ловушке? Где?” Who has you trapped? Where?

Clint watched the conversation between Natasha and Darcy with wary eyes. He only had a rudimentary knowledge of Russian, mostly the curse words Nat would use when frustrated, but he could understand Natasha’s expression and the softness in her voice. Something was wrong. “What?”

His mouth snapped closed with Natasha held up a finger in his direction, feeling Laura lay a hand on his arm to silence him. Darcy’s lips were barely moving as she spoke, her voice so soft and sounding completely unlike the Darcy he knew.

“Камень. Он не знает, что я говорю, а не мои воспоминания. Не Баки. Солдат.”
The stone. It doesn't know what I'm saying, not my memories. Not Bucky's. The soldier.

“Можете ли вы следовать моему голосу? Ищи меня, Дарси. Найди меня.” Can you follow my voice? Look for me, Darcy. Come find me.

“Ты оранжевый. Милая. Так устал.” You’re orange. Pretty. So tired.

“Я знаю, что ты устал, и скоро ты скоро отдохнешь, но мне нужно, чтобы ты нашел меня прямо сейчас, хорошо?” I know you're tired, and you'll get to rest soon, but I need you to find me right now, okay?

“Так темно” So dark.

Peter pressed a hand to Darcy’s cheek, worried, her skin hot to the touch. A steady stream of tears were leaking from her eyes and sliding into her hair. He looked up at Clint with a helpless expression, seeing the concern in the other man’s gaze as well.

“Я знаю, но я здесь. Все, что вам нужно, это найти меня.” I know, but I'm right here waiting. All you have to do is find me.

“Если я не вернусь, если что-то еще возьмет -” If I don’t get back, if something else takes over -

“Ничто не захватывает, вы собираетесь найти мои цвета, следить за светом и вернуться к нам. Я не хочу, чтобы ты рассказывал своим мальчикам, что мы тебя потеряли. Поэтому вам нужно вернуться сюда. Теперь.” Nothing is taking over, you're going to find my colors, follow the light, and get back to us. I do not want to be the one to tell your boys that we lost you. So you need to get back here. Now.

There was nothing but blackness, stretching out in every direction. Darcy’s heart was racing, and if she had a neck here, the hairs on the back of it would be sticking straight up. She was in trouble, that much she knew. The stone, its voice, was here, lurking, looking for her. She’d been able to sneak away, using the Soldier to confuse it. It didn’t know how to handle or follow the Soldier, seeing as he was a memory but essentially an entirely different person at the same time. It gave her time to hide, something to shroud herself in, so the stone couldn’t find her.

She knew it would be bad - if the stone were able to find her with her being as weak as she was - but Darcy was lost. There was nothing, an utterly void expanse, no lights, no souls, just black. She was so tired, on the verge of collapse, but she couldn’t give up. They needed to get to Wakanda, they needed to help the people she loved. All of them. Not just Steve and Bucky, but Tony, and Bruce, and Thor. They needed help and she was wasting time that could be spent finding them, saving them.

Despite the weight and exhaustion, Darcy focused. She focused on Natasha, on the warm, autumn pumpkin color of her soul, tinged with the same darkness that Bucky carried. The history between Natasha and the Soldier was long and complicated, and she used that part of her mind to seek her hue, used the Soldier’s tracking skills to find their way. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the tiniest pinprick of color, like a light at the end of a tunnel.

“Я вижу вас!” I see you!

“Отлично, хорошо, приходите ко мне. Я здесь, ты просто должен -” Great, good, come to me. I'm right here, you just have to -

Everyone jumped as Darcy gasped, amber eyes glowing as she sat up, hands grasping for something, anything solid, needing to know it was real. Natasha took one hand as Clint took the other, clasping hers tightly as Darcy looked around with wide eyes, their color slowly changing back to their normal hazel hue. “Блядь. Боже, было так темно. Я так устал. Я все еще говорю по-русски? Почему я все еще говорю по-русски?” f*ck. God, it was so dark. I'm so tired. Am I still speaking Russian? Why am I still speaking Russian?

“Just give it a few minutes,” Natasha said, watching as Clint rubbed a hand on Darcy’s back, Darcy’s pulse jumping under the skin of her neck.

“Я не знаю? Да? О, черт возьми, мы должны to Wakanda, something happened and they’re in trouble and we have to get there!”

All four pairs of hands pushed her back to the ground when she tried to stand up.

“Whoa there.”

“You shouldn’t be moving.”

“You almost died!”

Darcy blinked at all of them, closing her eyes for a second as the ground seemed to tilt underneath her. “Don’t... worry about me. They’re in Wakanda, and they’re under attack! Friday is down. You’re the only ones who know where Wakanda is,” she opened her eyes and peered into Clint’s face, eyes imploring, needing him to understand the danger, clutching at his t-shirt. “We have to go help them!”

“We will,” Clint said with a nod, eyes flicking up to Natasha, who ran into the house. Turning his gaze back to Darcy, he gave her a small smile. “We’ll get there Darce, promise, but first you need to sit right here and let Laura check you out.”

Blinking and turning her head, Darcy’s eyes finally focused on the pretty brunette in front of her. She was smiling so sweetly, reassuring, and despite the heaviness of her eyelids, Darcy pushed at the exhaustion she could feel circling her, not wanting to give in. “You must be Laura.”

“I am,” Laura said, giving Darcy a helpful grin, reaching out to press two fingers to the inside of Darcy’s wrist, counting in her head, “and you’re Darcy, the person my husband’s been beating up.”

Slowly, like they were moving through jelly, Darcy’s eyes swung to pin Clint with a glare. “Hey.”

“Don’t hey me,” Clint said with a shrug of his shoulders, “in this family we don’t keep secrets.”

“Even when we should,” Natasha said, dropping two bags by the side of the car as she rejoined them. “We have to go,” she said to Laura, watching as the nurse continued her exam, shining her penlight in Darcy’s eyes now that they’d returned to normal.

Only frowning slightly, Laura nodded up at Natasha, pulling more supplies from her bag. “I’m going to check a few more things but when you gets back to base, you have to get her checked out. I don’t know what -”

“What? No! I have to go with them! I need to -” Darcy tried to stand but fell back on her ass, groaning as the world spun. She felt Peter pull her back against him, holding her still with a strong arm wrapped around the front of her body, supporting her. He was warm at her back, and despite trying to keep her eyes open, Darcy’s lids kept falling closed as if they were weighted. “When we get back… When...”

Peter looked up at Laura with alarm when Darcy sagged against him, body going limp. “Is that, is it okay for her to sleep? Should she stay -”

“She doesn’t have a concussion. Rest and sleep is what she needs. I’d tell you she needs to stay here but my bag isn’t really outfitted for enhanced people’s needs and the doctors on base are going to have better equipment.”

“Is she stable?”

Laura looked over at Clint, frowning softly as she wrapped a blood pressure cuff around Darcy’s arm. “From what I can tell? Maybe.”

“Maybe’s not reassuring, Laur.”

“It’s the best you’re going to get from me. She’s breathing and her body doesn’t appear to be in distress anymore, but I don’t know her and I don’t know her powers. I wish I could tell you more, Clint, but other than saying that I’m not immediately worried about her…”

“Then what do we do?” Peter asked, his voice softer, his arm tightening around Darcy.

“I’m going to check what I can, then we’ll need to get her loaded up.”

“You guys should go,” Natasha said, nodding in Clint and Peter’s direction, “get back to base, get the quinjet ready.”

“No! I don’t… I should stay with her,” Peter said, shaking his head at Natasha, arms still wrapped protectively around Darcy’s shoulders.

“You did a really good job getting her here, Parker, but I could use your help when we get back,” Clint said, using a softer tone in his voice as he spoke. “Nat’ll bring Darcy as soon as Laura’s done with her and we’ll rendezvous back at base. The more info I get from you, the better. Okay?”

After a moment of hesitation, Peter nodded, watching as Clint rose from the ground. “Okay.”

Laura took Natasha’s offered hand and climbed to her feet, nodding toward Clint’s jeep. “Why don’t we get her set up in the back seat and then you guys can head out?”

Clint and Peter managed to transfer Darcy to the backseat of Clint’s jeep, then took off in Tony’s car, speeding toward the compound to ready a quinjet. Darcy was semi-conscious as Laura finished taking her vitals once more.

The nurse flipped her stethoscope over her shoulders, and shook her head at Natasha, mouth pulled down into a frown as they took a step farther away from the jeep. “She’s dehydrated from the sweating and her heart rate’s still elevated. She’s not running a fever, but she’s hot to the touch. Best I can tell, she was having some sort of anaphylactic attack.”

Natasha nodded, arms crossed over her chest as she watched Darcy shift in the backseat. The glow had faded from Darcy’s skin and she was left looking pale and pallid. The redhead sighed, eyes swinging back to Laura. “She’s going to fight us about going.”

“I know, but I don’t know what kind of lasting effects she’s looking at. Her heart stopped, she wasn’t breathing, and who knows if she’ll break down again. Her best option is getting fluids and sleeping. She’ll probably have a headache and feel like garbage for a day or so. Considering everything that happened, that’d be best case scenario. Now if you want to talk about worst case...”

“Let’s not think worst case,” Natasha said, eyes sliding from Clint’s jeep then back to Laura. “I’ll figure out how to keep her on base, make sure she gets checked on, even if we have to strap her down.”

“... didn’t you guys say she can throw people through the air?”

“Fine, I’ll have Clint be the one to strap her down.” Natasha’s lips twitched, seeing the flash of amusem*nt in Laura’s eyes. “We’ve got to go.”

“I know. Be careful, please. All of you.”

Natasha leaned forward, pressing her lips to Laura’s quickly. It only took three turns of the key to get Clint’s jeep started, gravel crunching under the tires as she pulled away from the farmhouse and Laura.

Steve hit the dirt hard, groaning in pain. He couldn't take in a full breath, most likely fractured or broken ribs, judging by the sharp pain in his side. He didn't have time to hurt, though, as another kick sent him flying once more.

Back hitting the side of a building, he dropped to his side, shield clattering against the rubble that used to be a guard shack. Steve climbed to his knees, lifting his head, eyes widening slightly as they landed on the being looking down at him with scorn.

He'd faced this creature before, in the final battle for the soul stone. It'd fought at Thanos' right hand: its skin was mottled, every bit of it rippling with muscles, dense enough that no weapon had pierced it. It was heavy, impossibly heavy, and the teeth in its maw were sharpened to points.

It'd disappeared in a flash of light once Thanos had been destroyed, they’d assumed back to wherever it'd come from, but there'd been no way to know for sure. The battle had been chaos, and Steve was certain there were a lot of beings that had gone unaccounted for. They should have worked harder to ensure all of Thanos' legion had been found.

Steve didn't have time to reflect on 'what might have been' when the creature charged at him, screaming in rage. The axe in the alien's hand was massive, and he brought it down with a bone-rattling fierceness. Steve's shield diffused much of the force but not all of it, and he could feel the strength of the hit ringing through his bones. The creature was giant and Steve used that to his advantage, rolling out of the way as the axe carved deep into the ground. This didn't seem to do much, as the mercenary yanked it free and turned, giving what Steve assumed was a satisfied smirk.

He dodged another blow, stumbling when a blistering kick sent him backward, using the momentum to pop up to his feet and throw his shield as hard as he could. The alien caught it in his hand, and Steve's eyes widened as the creature curled his fingers, the shield denting slightly. Steve only had a split second to duck as it went buzzing over his head, only missing him by inches, embedding into the solid brick behind him. Steve tried to pull it out, but it was too far in and, despite several quick attempts, he wasn't able to pull it free.

The seconds he’d taken attempting to wrench the shield free had cost him, and Steve screamed when teeth dug into his upper arm, the white flash of pain freezing his mind for a second, followed shortly by searing agony as the teeth ripped away and he was struck in his lower back. He stumbled, body protesting, feeling the blood falling from his nose and mouth. His arm felt numb, useless at his side, possibly from venom or poison in the bite, but he couldn’t be sure.

Steve ducked when both of the alien's fists whipped out, hearing the building behind him erupt into jagged pieces as the mercenary's metal gauntlets hit, chunks of stone falling to the ground. Another kick and Steve was airborne, crumpling at the feet of two startled Wakandan security guards. They gave him a look of fright before their gazes lifted to look at the creature.

The steady brrt brrt brrt of assault rifle sounded in Steve's ears as the guards advanced. He waved his hand emphatically for them to stop, unable to talk as the air had been forced from his lungs, but they didn't see him. He flinched, climbing to his knees as the alien made quick work of them, tossing their bodies aside like they were inconsequential.

It reminded him so much of what Thanos had done.

They'd done their best, given the fight everything they had, but it wasn't going to be good enough. They were going to lose, and as he’d stared into the hate-filled eyes of Thanos, seeing his death in them, Steve'd made his peace with it.

Then Thanos' attention had been drawn away and Steve had flown through the air, like a ragdoll, rolling to his side in the dirt as he watched a dark-haired woman begin to glow, hovering over the ground and looking unaffected as Thanos dove at her, screaming his rage, only to be destroyed in a puff of orange electricity, ashes on the wind that were carried away.

... but Darcy wasn't here to save him this time.

Darcy was back at the base, thousands of miles away, and all Steve could think was...

Good.

It was good she wasn't here, that she was safe. Steve was happy she wasn't at his side, that she wasn’t in danger. Thinking of her being hurt, or worse, stole the breath from his lungs and made his chest ache. She was soft, and kind, and funny, and the thought of her getting hurt was... unbearable.

Steve shouted as a fist connected with his face, throwing him to his back, unable to breathe through his nose, certain it was broken. He could already taste blood on the back of his tongue, and the next punch that connected with his face was harder. His right eye squinted, already swelling, as blow after blow rained down on him.

Bucky, Steve’s thoughts tumbled, get away. Get safe. You’ve got to… If I don’t…

He was on the edge of consciousness, unable to focus on anything but the pain, and his brain was alternating between visceral clarity and fog. Bucky, his mind continued to repeat, Bucky, take… don’t let...

Steve’s body went numb as black began to circle his mind. He was in a tunnel, black and long, looking up at a face that was slowly losing focus. He was being pulled downward, and Steve was running out of strength to fight the darkness back.

His ears were throbbing with his heartbeat, slowing and growing sluggish. He blinked when a beam of white-blue light hit the body of top of him, sending it flying and outside his narrowing field of vision. He blinked one good eye up at Tony as the man yelled something at him, but he couldn't make it out over the searing pain and fog that was taking over.

Steve tried to hold on but he couldn't. He was so tired, in so much pain, and he knew it would all go away if he wanted to. He could let go, give in, welcome the black. The quiet. The peace. He’d once thought he’d welcome death with a warm smile, having made a hushed agreement that, when it was his time, he’d go calmly and placidly.

Grey Slate.

Soft Hazel.

Home.

Not yet. Not. Yet.

Faces flashed into his mind and Steve wasn’t calm, or placid, or willing to go quietly. It wasn’t like it’d been before, not anymore. He couldn't give up. He had things to do, things to say, things he hadn’t even realized he felt so deeply and powerfully until that second. He started fighting, clawing his way back toward the pinprick of light. He was desperate, frantic, violent in his frenzy to hold on.

No! Not yet!

It was no use. The blackness was taking over. Steve had a second to wonder if this was what Darcy saw: an endless, vast sea of darkness, too large to comprehend, too cold to fight. He understood now, what it was like to fight darkness. It was futile. Hopeless. Hollow. His body was meant to take damage but this was too much, even for him.

I didn't get to -

Chapter 28: Lose You

Chapter Text

Darcy groaned, waking as they hit a particularly heavy rut in the road. Sluggishly, she sat up in the back of a jeep, blinking at Natasha and the woods flying by. Her head was throbbing, her tongue like sandpaper in her mouth, and she felt like she’d been hit by a truck. A very large, very heavy truck. “What... what happened?”

Natasha glanced over her shoulder at Darcy, the redhead’s mouth in a tight line. “You don’t remember?”

Struggling to pull her scattered thoughts together, the massive headache she had at the base of her skull making it infinitely harder, Darcy frowned. “Peter and I were finding you because of Wakanda.” Her eyes widened with panic, hands flashing out to grip the seat in alarm. “Wakanda! We have to -”

“Barton and Parker left before us so they can ready the jet. It’ll be ready when we get there,” Natasha interrupted, seeing the brief expression on relief that found its way into Darcy’s hazel eyes.

Taking a deep breath, Darcy struggled, maneuvering her body from the back and into the passenger seat. She made a noise of discomfort as she settled, trying to keep from throwing up from the way she’d jostled herself. She hummed, waiting for the nausea to pass before opening her eyes. “I hope Tony restocked the sick bags in all of the jets.”

Natasha’s gaze flicked toward Darcy, a frown darkening her features before she looked forward again. “You’re not going with us.”

“What?” Darcy snapped, watching as Natasha kept her green eyes on the road, not even looking in her direction as her shout rang through the jeep. “Steve and Bucky are there! Tony might be hurt! I’m going with you!”

“No, you’re not,” Natasha repeated with a shake of her head. “You almost died getting to us -”

“- I think that’s a bit over dramatic -“

“So until you get cleared by a doctor, you’re not going anywhere.”

Darcy’s eyes narrowed, her chest singing with righteous indignation. Natasha looked over at her with a look of finality in her eyes, but Darcy didn’t care; her blood was already pumping so loudly that she let the anger warm her from the inside, feeling the pink as it bloomed in her cheeks. “You have no right to tell me what I can and can’t -”

“I outrank you, Lewis. If I say you’re grounded, you’re grounded. End of discussion.”

“You outrank me? I’m not a soldier!”

“You’re right. You’re not a soldier. And you know who doesn’t go on rescue missions? People who aren’t soldiers. Barton hasn’t cleared you for combat duty, Hill hasn’t signed off on you being active roster, and despite how much you want to help Steve and Barnes, all you’ll do if you go with us is jeopardize their safety.”

“That’s unfair!”

“I don’t care what you think is fair and unfair, искра, you’re not going with us.”

Darcy flinched at hearing the Russian fall from Natasha’s mouth, Bucky’s memories reminding her that when the beautiful spy used her first language, it was never a good sign. “Well then what the f*ck am I supposed to do? Twiddle my thumbs and take up knitting? I have to do something!”

Natasha took a fast corner, the wheels skidding and screeching as the jeep flew down the road at dangerous speeds. She saw Darcy grip the door handle as the movement forced another sound of pain from her lips. “You did do something, Darcy. You got to me and Barton. Was that the longest you’d ever spent in the soulscape?”

Darcy knew Natasha was changing the subject, ignoring the argument and forcing her to think of something else, and if Darcy’d had her full faculties about her she’d probably fight her on it, but even now, frustrated and bitter at being put in her place, Darcy’s strength was waning. She was so tired. Blinking, Darcy sat back in her seat. Soulscape, she repeated Natasha’s word to herself. It was as good a name as any for the blackness that she’d nearly lost herself in. “Yes.”

“Your heart stopped beating. Laura had to give you CPR and two injections before you came back.”

Darcy reached up and rubbed at her chest. It ached a tiny bit, like she’d been hit with something hard. “It was so dark,” she whispered, for a second seeing the flash of blackness in her vision before she pushed it away, feeling her world tilt on its axis. Her nostrils flared as she took in another deep breath, nausea crashing into her like a wave, swallowing thickly. She let her head hang between her knees, feeling her mouth fill with saliva, hand gripping the handle to her door.

Natasha’s gaze flicked toward Darcy. She could tell the other woman was not in the best shape, but she was staying conscious and that was something. “Laura said it looked like you’d gone into anaphylactic shock.”

Pressing the back of her hand to her forehead, Darcy gave a tiny shake of her head. “I’m not allergic to anything.”

“I’m not sure they’re set up to check for an infinity gem allergy.”

Darcy was quiet, her thoughts in a freefall, vacillating between desperate, clawing fear and useless, uncertain worry. “Tony said that he wasn’t with Steve or Bucky, that they were in a different city. I… I don’t know where they were, any of them. How are you supposed to find them and help if you don’t even know where they are? I can help with that, you know I can. I’d be able to tell you.”

Natasha gave a quick shake of her head. “Neither of them would want you to go back to that place, not after what happened. Not for as long as it’d take us to find them. They’d hate you going at all. Barton and I will find another way.”

“How?”

“If I was attacking Wakanda, it’d be for the vibranium. We’ll start at the mines and go from there.”

Darcy frowned, swallowing roughly, hazel gaze swinging toward Natasha. “That’s not good enough.”

“It’ll have to be.”

They’d only had to stop the car twice so that Darcy could dry heave out the door, her stomach rolling with nausea as well as worry. She was looking less green than before, but Natasha was still worried. They had no idea what to expect when they got back to the compound. Natasha knew Clint would do what was needed, but she had to wonder if they’d be fighting with Darcy in the next few minutes.

Darcy’s grip on the door tightened as they took the last turn toward the compound, sitting forward, her voice pitched high with worry. “Why are they standing outside? Nat? What’s wrong? Why isn’t the jet ready?”

Natasha slowed the jeep from it’s frantic pace, coming to stop before the garage doors. Tony’s car was parked, blocking their way, and even from a distance she could see the look on Clint and Peter’s faces. She glanced over at Darcy, watching as the other woman pushed her door open with shaking hands and tumbled out.

Clint felt Peter take a stop toward Darcy when the dark-haired lab assistant fell to her knees in the gravel, but stopped when she clawed and climbed back to her feet, sprinting toward them.

“What happened? Why isn’t the jet ready? You have to go get them! Clint? Peter?” Darcy had never felt anything like the icy fear that gripped her as she struggled toward them, trembling hands reaching out to clutch at Peter’s shirt, the younger man helping her stay on her feet. She was terrified and neither of the men were talking, only forcing her hysteria closer and closer to the surface.

When Natasha caught up, Clint nodded at both of them, his voice even. “Communication with Wakanda has been restored. There were attacks on multiple cities. Looks like the last group of Thanos’ army tried to take the mines and destroy the capital. They failed.”

Peter had a split second to grab Darcy before her knees gave out, a cry of relief ripping free from her mouth. The scientist held her against his chest, keeping her upright, rubbing a circle on her back, looking over her shoulder at Clint with a frown on his lips.

“Are they on their way back?” Natasha could see it in Clint’s eyes, something else, something he hadn’t wanted to say first. She knew him so well, and she knew he was holding it back in some kind of effort to ease the pain it was going to inflict on the panicked younger woman.

Clint sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “They’re waiting ‘til Cap’s stable.” Darcy’s hazel eyes were wide and bloodshot as they looked up at Clint sharply, wet cheeks already streaked with tears of relief. He watched fear replace the relief like a light being shut off. Sudden and jarring.

“What? What do you mean stable? What happened?”

“We’re not sure,” Peter said, looking into her eyes when she pulled back enough to look up at him. “It sounds like he got hurt pretty bad before they were able to stop the fighting.”

“But he’s okay, right?” Darcy’s eyes flicked to each of them in turn, judging the expressions they were giving her for any kind of information, good or bad. When they said nothing, she could feel her chest tighten. “But he’s going to be okay, right?” she repeated, the volume and tone of her voice rising with panic.

“Darcy, what do you say Peter helps you get to the medical wing. Nat and I’ll find out more info and meet you there?”

Darcy looked at Clint, an argument on her tongue, but when Peter stretched his arm across her shoulders and she looked up into his worried brown eyes, she swallowed her questions. She was so tired. Steve and Bucky were alive; she’d have fought with Natasha at being left behind, but now they weren’t going either.

There was nothing she could do but wait for her boys to get home.

Her eyes flicked to Clint, seeing the carefully neutral mask he was wearing. Under normal circ*mstances, she’d have pushed against him, but with the tsunami of emotions crashing inside of her, Darcy couldn’t find the strength to fight the archer. “The second you hear something... ”

“You’ll be our first stop. Promise.”

Blinking at Natasha, anger still pricking at her from the conversation they’d had in the jeep, Darcy let Peter steer her away and toward the door. They heard him ask Darcy what she thought of his driving skills as the door hushed closed behind them, leaving Natasha and Clint in the cool early winter air.

“She going to be alright?” Clint asked without preamble.

Natasha shook her head. “Laura said it was like she had an allergic reaction to the stone, that she needs to get checked out by a doctor to make sure nothing was damaged or harmed irreparably.”

“From what Cap’s said, she had no idea what would happen, staying like that for too long.” He’d never seen Darcy’s actual powers, besides the soft glow appearing beneath her skin and in her eyes, but he’d heard enough from Bruce and Steve to know they were formidable, as well as unpredictable.

“She almost died,” Natasha said, mirroring Clint’s posture, folding her arms over her chest and leaning back against Stark’s car.

Clint snorted, giving her a side glance. “I nominate you’re the one that breaks that news to Barnes. I like my bits where they are currently, thanks.”

Sighing, Natasha shook her head. “She fought me, wanted to go with, wanted to help.”

“Of course she did. You remember what it was like when we left for the first time, after Laura.”

Memories of that first mission after the three of them had become the three of them replayed in Natasha’s mind, her mouth turning down. “She’ll probably -”

“Mmmmhmm,” Clint hummed, “I figured as much. They’re not going to like it.”

This time it was Natasha’s turn to snort softly in agreement. “Of course they won’t, but they don’t have much of a choice, do they? She could throw them across the room if she wanted.”

“Or worse.”

Natasha’s eyebrows knit together. “Going to the soulscape for that long almost killed her. What will it look like as a weapon?”

“Soulscape?” Clint asked, turning to look at Natasha with a small smirk on his lips.

Natasha’s shoulder lifted and fell gracefully. “Better than what Tony’s been calling it.” She shifted, a toe kicking at a piece of gravel, squinting against the setting sun that filtered through the trees. “Is Steve going to be alright?”

Clint sighed, his voice softening. He knew how much Steve’s friendship meant to Natasha, and he was able to pick out the undercurrent of worry in her tone. He cared for Cap, too, but for Natasha… it was something more. “He’s still unconscious,” he answered, “the bastard almost beat him to death. Ten broken ribs. Fractured occipital bone. Broken nose. Liver lac. Bruised kidneys. One hell of a concussion.”

“Even for Steve, that’s a lot,” Natasha whispered, her fingers tightening against the leather jacket she wore. “What the hell happened?”

“Guess we’ll have to wait to find out.”

When the door slid open, Bucky’s grey eyes glanced up at the person moving into the room. He rose to his feet, his gaze harsh as they stared at the strange man. “Who are you? What are you doing? Where’s Dr. Chaas?” He watched T’Challa follow the man into the room and frowned at the King. “I asked for Masa,” he said, his voice more growl than anything else.

T’Challa’s head dipped forward at the emotion in Bucky’s voice, knowing the sharp words from the other man were not meant to offend. They’d all been dealing with an inordinate amount of stress and short tempers were understandable. “Sergeant, I know you are upset, but I assure you, Dr. Gembe is highly qualified. His care of Mr. Rogers will be more than adequate.”

“I don’t want adequate,” Bucky grunted, glaring at the doctor who rightfully looked a bit uncomfortable, “I want Dr. Chaas.”

T’Challa sighed, sweeping his arm toward the open doorway. “Perhaps you could join me in the hall for a moment?”

Bucky frowned at the look on T’Challa’s face, eyes flicking down to look at Steve’s battered and bruised body. He didn’t want to leave Steve’s side, not even for a second, but the steady gaze of the other man weighed on him until he relented. He’d watched T’Challa’s people taking care of Steve since the moment they’d arrived at the mines. Bucky knew he was being irrational, but he wanted the best care, and the best care would come from Masa Chaas.

He didn’t speak as he stalked into the hallway, letting T’Challa close the door softly behind them before spinning to glare at the king. “With all due respect, your highness, I asked -”

“Dr. Chaas was killed during the attack on Birnin Zana, Sergeant Barnes.”

Looking at the other man, Bucky searched for any hint of uncertainty in T’Challa’s eyes. There was done. The breath in Bucky’s lungs left him in a rush, his hands coming to rest on his hips as he looked down at the floor, shoulders tightening. A few hours prior he’d been drinking tea in Masa’s office, looking at the smiling faces of his patients and family, bearing his heart and insecurities to his friend. He knew he should probably have gotten used to losing people by now, but the sharp knife of hurt was still just as painful.

T’Challa watched the grief fill Bucky’s eyes, his expression soft as he looked at his friend. “I am very sorry, James, I know you and Masa were close.”

Nodding, Bucky schooled his features, his jaw tightening as he looked up at T’Challa. “His daughter. His grandson. Are they…? I mean, did they -”

“They are safe and will want for nothing,” T’Challa answered, seeing the very small flash of relief that colored Bucky’s charcoal eyes for a split second before the guarded look returned.

Bucky nodded, not looking up, avoiding eye contact as he processed the news. “His funeral?”

T’Challa took a step toward Bucky, his arm lifting to rest on the other man’s shoulder. He felt a slight flinching, but after a second the soldier’s body relaxed. “He will receive passage to the next world and dwell in the halls of our ancestors. His light will join the heat of the sun and his family will feel his warmth on their faces until they are reunited.”

It was a pretty thought, but Bucky had never put much stock in an afterlife, not with all the horror he’d seen, but if any man was worthy of that kind of everlasting peace, it was Dr. Masa Chaas. T’Challa’s fingers squeezed once more before his hand dropped from Bucky’s shoulder and he took step back.

“Are you sure I can not convince you to stay longer, let our physicians watch over Steven until he is healed?”

Bucky shook his head, glancing up at T’Challa with a small, grateful smile. “No. We need to get home. We’ve got -”

“Your Darcy,” T’Challa interrupted with a smile, seeing the truth of his assumption in Bucky’s eyes. He could see so many changes in the other man since they’d battled side by side, and T’Challa knew enough to see where the changes had originated. “I am sure she is just as anxious for your return as you are.”

Sighing, Bucky’s grey gaze focused back on T’Challa, hands itching to return to Steve’s side. He remembered the worry in Steve’s words, that they would leave Wakanda before it was safe to do so, and Bucky knew he needed to make sure everything was alright before they left. He’d never hear the end of it if he didn’t make sure. Steve would give him hell when he woke up.

If he wakes up.

“You’ll let us know if you need anything else?” Bucky asked, pushing the dark thought from his mind as he peered at the Wakandan leader.

“The might of your strength helped us greatly. Mr. Stark has worked closely with my sister to see that an attack like this will not happen again. I am sorry that Steven was harmed, but I know him as a very strong man. He will recover and be more determined than ever before.” T’Challa closed the distance and shook Bucky’s hand, smiling softly. “If Wakanda can assist you in any way, you only need ask and we shall provide.”

Nodding, swallowed harshly and unable to speak past the lump in his throat, Bucky left T’Challa in the hall and made his way back into Steve’s room, mentally preparing himself for the doctor’s report. He wanted to be in the air asap.

Sighing, Darcy followed the penlight with her eyes. “I’m telling you, I’m fine. Just a headache.” So tired but can’t sleep. Need to be here when the boys get back.

The doctor looking at her frowned as she took a step back, crossing her arms over her chest as she peered at Darcy. “Mr. Parker advised me that your heart stopped, as did your breathing.”

Closing her eyes before they rolled, Darcy nodded. f*ck, just let me go, I’m fine. “It was an allergic reaction, that’s all. I came back when they injected me.”

“And this allergy, you didn’t know you had it before?”

“No,” Darcy said, her voice exasperated even as she tried to keep it from rising in frustrated anger, “is that abnormal?”

The doctor seemed unmoved by the tone Darcy had.. “It’s not unheard of, but unless it’s something you haven’t come into contact with before, which is unlikely -”

“This was her first time,” Peter said helpfully, ignoring the glare Darcy threw in his direction. “It’s… she’s never come in contact with this… substance… before.”

Darcy watched Peter struggle through his words, unsure what he could tell the doctor. Tony had wanted to keep the details of her ‘condition’ under wraps as much as possible, his normally suspicious nature forming a bubble around Darcy, where many of the people in the compound didn’t really know what she could do.

I don’t even know what the f*ck I can do, Darcy groused while Peter continued speaking with the doctor.

When he’d insisted on staying by her side, she’d assumed it was so he could ensure she stayed here and didn’t escape without being released. She was too tired to argue with him about shadowing her, just hoping he’d expedite everything so she could get out as quickly as possible, because f*ck did she hate the med ward.

The doctor looked at Darcy for a long moment after Peter went quiet. Eventually she signed, seemingly relenting to Darcy’s desire to wrap this up. “Well, your heart and lungs sound fine. You’re dehydrated and need rest, and you shouldn’t be on your feet for the next day or so. It doesn’t appear you’ll have any consequences from what happened, but I’m giving you several epinephrine pens to keep. If something like this does happen again, hopefully you’ll be able to head it off before it becomes something more.”

“Could you, uh, give me a few as well?” At Darcy’s look, Peter gestured toward the doctor as if that alone was all the reason he needed. “What? You don’t think it’d be good to have some around the lab? I mean, we spend so much time there, and if something, like, if you go glowy and your eyes -”

“Okay, jeez, fine, Pete, yeah, let’s grab a few for the road.”

“I think it’d be beneficial to have some on hand, just in case. You two work side by side a lot?”

“You could say that,” Peter said, looking over at Darcy with worry, seeing the unfocused look in her hazel eyes.

While the doctor explained to Peter how to use the pretty blue pens, where the inject it and what symptoms to look for, Darcy’s leg beat out a steady rhythm as she fidgeted. She’d bitten her fingernails to the quick, until they’d started bleeding; one of the first things the doctor had done was wrap Darcy’s fingertips in hot pink band-aids in an attempt to keep her from doing it continuing. She’d tried to explain to Darcy that it could lead to an infection, but Darcy had already been fluxing from focused to absent at that point, brain too full to take in the new information.

Steve’s hurt. Steve got hurt. Steve got hurt enough that he needed to be stabilized before coming home. Steve got hurt but Bucky’s okay? No. Bucky’s not okay, not if Steve is hurt. Steve is hurt and he’s not here, and I’m not there. I should be there. I want to be there.

“Darcy?”

Blinking, pulled out of her thoughts by Peter’s face when it appeared in her field of vision, she glanced over his shoulder at the doctor. “Are we good here? I can go?” The doctor nodded and turned back to her tablet and Darcy’s medical records.

“You should try and get some sleep,” Peter said, seeing the weary look on Darcy’s face.

“That’s not going to happen,” Darcy said with a hollow laugh and a shake of her head, “not until they’re back.”

Peter took a step closer to her, his frown intensifying, his voice filling with a bit more steel. “We don’t know how long that will be, the flight time alone from Wakanda is -.”

“I don’t care.”

“Darcy -”

Darcy jumped down from the table, every emotion rolling in her stomach taking the offer of focus and targeting her frustrations at the younger man. “Peter, I don’t want to yell at you, so you need to back off. I’m fine.”

Peter absently recognized that the doctor had slipped out of the room when they’d started arguing, but he gave the full weight of his stare at Darcy, his nerves already shot enough that he could feel the hairs on his skin rising to attention. “No, you’re not. If you went to sleep I’d wake you the moment they get back.”

She shook her head. “Look -”

“No, you look!”

The volume and tone of his voice made Darcy’s eyes widen, her mouth closing at the look on his face. She thought she’d seen Peter angry before, but this was something new, something different. It wasn’t anger, she realized, but worry. His hands were shaking at his sides and his eyes were flashing with pique.

“You told me that I’m in charge when it comes to the science stuff and your job is to keep me alive, but right now you’re the one at risk of hurting themselves and I’m not going to stand by and watch you hurt yourself! You can hate me for it and decide you don’t want to work with me anymore, but you need to stop! I really don’t want to have to tell Barnes or Rogers that you died while on my watch! And you almost did! You almost died!”

Peter’s voice cracked on the last word, and Darcy stood there, looking at him with wide eyes and a shocked expression. They stood there in silence as his shout rang and faded in the room, until Darcy swallowed past the lump in her throat, seeing the pink high on his cheeks and the welling in his serious brown gaze. “I’m sorry,” she finally whispered, unsure what else to say.

“Don’t be sorry, just listen to the doctor and try and rest.”

The emotion on Peter’s face made Darcy’s chest ache worse than it already was. She knew she could be hard-headed and unyielding, but what happened had scared the younger man enough that he was willing to fight her about it. “I don’t think I’ll be able rest until they’re home with me,” she said, hating how vulnerable her voice sounded.

Peter’s eyes softened and he let out the breath he’d been holding. “Let’s try. We’ll go to the lab, sit on the couches, put in a movie and wait. There’s nothing we can do to make them get here sooner. We’ll try and keep you distracted, make the time go by faster.”

Peter was using a lot of ‘we’ in his speech, and Darcy’s eyes filled with tears. Of all the things she could cry about, the amount of worry in the younger man’s eyes should have been one of the last, but here she was, heart breaking because she’d scared him. Until Jane, Darcy’d never known what it was like to have a sibling, someone who would be there for you no matter what, and especially when you were being stupid. Had her and Peter gotten there without her realizing it? She’d always felt a pull of protection for the scientist, but looking into his face, she knew it was true; somewhere in the months they’d been working together, they’d formed something, something strong, and the reality hit her hard.

Darcy didn’t hesitate, closing the distance between them and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He was stiff at first, unsure, but she felt him give in and hug her back, squeezing tightly. “I’m sorry, Peter, I’m sorry,” she said against his neck, her breath hitching as the first tears began to fall, “I’m so scared and I don’t know what to do.”

Resting his chin on her shoulder, Peter nodded. “I know, Darce, I’m sorry. Hurting yourself isn’t going to help anyone. We’ll go back to the lab and wait for Dr. Foster to get here.”

Darcy pulled back, a watery surprised expression on her face. “You called Janey? She’s all the way in Argentina, how...?”

“I called her when Clint and I left the farm.”

“How is he?”

Bucky glanced upward as Tony came to stand next to him in the back of the quinjet. His gaze swung back toward the bed Steve was strapped into. Steve’s face was mottled with bruises, cuts and scrapes on the skin that wasn’t discolored, his right eye swollen completely shut. He was kept in the bed with straps over his lower legs and upper chest, all in an effort to avoid putting pressure on his abdomen and the broken ribs and other internal injuries he’d sustained.

“He still hasn’t woken up,” Bucky said, re-adjusting his grip on Steve’ hand, needing to feel his warmth, unwilling to part from him, “but they said he might not for a couple of days.”

Tony nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “He’s come back from worse.”

Bucky didn’t need to be reminded. The last time he’d seen Steve so hurt was when he’d done it, as the airships crashed around them at the Triskelion, when it’d been Bucky’s hands that came down again and again. Not you, Bucky could almost hear Steve’s voice in his head, wasn’t you, Buck. Wasn’t you.

“When we get back, he’ll have the best doctors.” Tony watched Bucky shift at his words, remembering what T’Challa had explained before they’d taken off. His eyes closed behind his glasses, realizing what he’d said. He let the air out of his lungs, feeling the pain in his left arm intensify as he moved. “I’m… sorry. About your friend.”

Bucky nodded, not sure what to say. He felt like he was being pulled apart inside. The grief at losing Masa was overshadowed by the uncertainty of Steve’s injuries, not knowing when - or if - his best friend would wake up.

He glanced up at Tony, realizing the other man was still standing there, an uncomfortable look on his face. Bucky cleared his throat, looking down at Steve, his eyes following the blond’s black and blue jawline. “T’Challa said a lot more people would have died if you and Wanda hadn’t been there,” Bucky said, his voice low. “And Steve -”

“It’s fine, we don’t have to -”

“And Steve,” Bucky repeated, more forceful this time as his grey eyes slid to look up at Tony, “would be in a lot worse shape if you hadn’t shown up when you did.”

Tony took in a deep breath, looking over his shoulder to see the rest of the plane in quiet conversations amongst themselves. He fidgeted, grimacing when he pulled his arm awkwardly and it stung with pain. “Yeah, well, we’re a team, right? Gotta watch each other’s backs.”

The small smirk that curled Bucky’s lips was more incredulous that anything else, and he couldn’t help the soft snort of disbelief. Part of him knew this entire conversation was facilitated by Darcy, even though she wasn’t here; neither Tony or Bucky would have said the things they were if it wasn’t for the relationships they had with her. “Is that right?"

A flicker of humor lit into Tony’s eyes. “Most sports analogies are lost on me, but since we have a captain, it stands to reason we’re some kind of team. A unit. A squad? Are we a squad?”

“We’re definitely something,” Bucky agreed, gaze shifting back toward Steve, sobering slightly. He knew he’d never be friends with Tony Stark, too many things were in rubble between them, but maybe they could find some middle ground. Or at least less animosity.

“Besides,” Tony pushed on, whiskey-colored eyes falling back to stare at the pale man strapped in the bed, “the person who could destroy souls is kind of connected to this guy, and I do not want to be on her naughty list.”

Giving a small nod, Bucky adjusted his grip on Steve’s hand. “Yeah. There is that.”

Jane pushed through the double doors to the lab, brown eyes searching for the mess of dark curls she knew so well, a hint of panic in her voice. “Darcy? Darcy!?”

“Shhhhh,” Peter hissed, lifting a hand to place it over Darcy’s exposed ear, “you’ll wake her up.”

Running across the lab, Jane skidded to a stop when she made it to the lounge area, eyes wide as she took in the scene. Peter was sitting upright on the couch, a very asleep Darcy passed out on his shoulder, a line of drool at the corner of the lab assistant’s mouth. Jane’s eyes scanned her entire body, looking for wounds she knew weren’t there. “Is she…?”

“She’s fine. She passed out, uh,” Peter glanced at the clock on the wall, “five hours ago?”

Jane knelt in front of the couch, reaching up to push a lock of Darcy’s hair behind her ear, watching it pop back out immediately. Laying against Peter’s shoulder, Darcy’s face almost looked peaceful, if not a little pale. Jane’s gaze flicked up toward Peter.. “But is she alright?”

“More or less. The second we sat down she was gone. Could you, I mean, my arm is asleep and I really have to pee.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah. Here.”

Peter and Jane managed to shift Darcy from his shoulder to hers, and Jane watched him speed from the room like he was wearing rockets on his feet. Jane reached out and laced her fingers with Darcy’s, thumb brushing back and forth over best friend’s skin. Eventually, Peter returned, looking much less panicked, and grabbed a rolling chair, moving across the tile until he faced Jane.

Satisfied with where she was and that Darcy was well and truly zonked, Jane gave Peter focused eyes. “What happened? Everything, all of it.”

Twenty minutes later, Jane was left staring at Peter, tear tracks drying on her cheeks, her heart still beating a thousand miles a minute. I can’t believe I wasn’t here. “But the doctor said she’d be fine, right?” Her voice sounded desperate, matching the tightness in her chest.

“She said as far as she could tell,” Peter corrected with a sigh, rushing forward when he watched Jane’s face begin to fall, “b-but it’s not like there are medical journals or studies on what’s going on in her body, right?. Everything’s just a best guess.”

Nodding, more to herself than to Peter, Jane’s hand tightened its grip on Darcy’s, “and they’re on their way back now?”

“Mmm, yeah. They left Wakanda…” he glanced up at the clock again, “four hours ago. We have about another four before they land.”

“Okay. We’ll let her sleep for three, I’ll help her take a shower and get changed, then we’ll be up and ready when they arrive.”

Peter nodded, running a hand over his tired face. He sighed, letting all the air from his lungs leave before he gestured toward Darcy. “Do you, you’ve, I mean, you’re good with her, right? I can, I need to -”

“Go,” Jane said with a small smile, watching Peter look at Darcy with fondness and worry. She’d seen that look before: on Erik’s face, on Thor’s face, and Jane knew it had taken up permanent residence on her own face, too. Once Darcy Lewis latched onto you like the barnacle she was, you were already lost. “Take a nap, eat, do whatever you need. I’ll be fine right here.”

Shoulders sagging, Peter took a deep breath inward and stood. “Thanks.”

Peter had almost gotten to the door when Jane called to him. “Hey Peter?”

He turned, tired eyes blinking in Jane’s direction. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. For.. If I couldn’t be here… I’m glad she had you.”

Smiling softly, Peter waved a hand toward her before he disappeared through the doors.

Darcy was warm. Warm and languid. She’d felt like this before, once, several months ago. Like she was in a spa, surrounded by hot towels, and being massaged by a guy named… What had his name been? Gaston? No, that’s Beauty and the Beast. Fabio? No! It’d been... Claude! Claude and calorie-free cheesecake, she remembered now.

When she’d woken up from her faux spa dream, it was after she’d grabbed the stone on the battlefield and destroyed Purple Kool-aid Man. When she’d let the amber gem take her over completely in an effort to save Jane, and by extension, the rest of the world, too.

But why was she here now? What had she done? Her body felt great, if a little tired, but her brain was a bit fuzzy with it all. She remembered that’s how it’s been the last time, too, before all those memories came flooding back in. Darcy knew there was something, something important but some part of her didn’t care. It wanted her to stay where she was - warm and calm and feeling great - and that part of her seemed to be winning out.

Would it be so bad, staying here? No. It was nice here, after all, and she didn’t feel the crushing weight of everything on her shoulders. Stress-free and lazy. It sounds great, if only I could bring -

“Ngh!”

Darcy sat up in a rush, the haze of feeling great instantly evaporating, replaced by a pounding headache and dry mouth so bad that it felt like she’d gargled with glass. Her eyes felt heavy, lids feeling like sandpaper as she blinked, her heart hammering in her chest. Steve! Steve's hurt! Battle in Wakanda. Blackness and the stone! The tranquility of her dreams was replaced with panic, an overwhelming sense of worry and anxiety.

“Darcy, hey, it’s okay, take a breath, you're okay.”

Darcy turned to look at Jane who was sitting beside her on the couch, worry and concern in the chocolate whiskey of her eyes. Her best friend, who Peter had called, who'd rushed - from how far away? - to be at her side. “Janey?”

“Darcy, I'm sorry I wasn't here soo -”

The astrophysicist grunted when Darcy threw herself forward, arms circling Jane’s shoulders and holding her in a vice-like grip. Tears were already flowing from Darcy's eyes as she mumbled what sounded like nonsense into Jane’s hair. Patting Darcy’s back, Jane waited until the flow of words stopped before she spoke. “I didn’t get any of that so you’ll have to repeat it.”

Pulling back, Darcy shook her head, shaking more tears loose as he hands clutched Jane’s. “I’m so scared, Steve’s hurt and I don’t know...” she trailed off when her crying became too heavy to talk through anymore.

Jane pulled her back in for another hug, holding her tightly. When it seemed like the heaviest bit had passed, she lifted her hand and placed it on Darcy’s cheek, smiling softly at her best friend. She pushed a wild curl behind Darcy’s ear, an empathetic expression on her face. “I know, honey. I'm sorry.”

She needed to be touching Jane, needing to know she was real and here, so Darcy thread their fingers together, holding tight. “How long -”

"You were asleep for at least six hours," Jane answered, knowing what Darcy's question was before it’d even left her mouth.

"And how long -"

“They should be here in, um, two hours? Give or take. I mean, headwinds and storms might make them later, but soon. Real soon.”

Darcy turned to blink at Peter, who'd answered her question just like Jane had, somehow anticipating what she'd been asking. He was sitting on the other couch in the lab, papers spread around him and near his feet on the floor, a look on quiet determination on his face. He looked stressed, not like his usual self, and Darcy's mouth turned down in a frown.

She was asking the question before she’d really thought it out, making sure he was alright a habit by now. “Have you slept? Eaten anything?”

Peter looked up at her, papers held in both hands, his expression incredulous. “You’re worried about me right now?”

“No. Yes. Maybe.”

“Peter's fine,” Jane said, smiling softly when Darcy’s eyes swung back in her direction, squeezing her hand, "you're the one we’re worried about.”

Taking a deep breath in and letting it out slowly, Darcy sat back on the couch, pulling Jane's hand until it rested in her lap, an anchor to keep her from floating away. “The doctor cleared me,” she said, the words sounding weak even to her own ears.

“I know, but we’re still worried. Are you sure you’re alright? You’re not hearing any voices? Feeling weird?”

“Of course I’m feeling weird, this whole thing is f*cked.” When the words came out sharper than she’d meant, Darcy looked at Jane with an apologetic look. “Sorry. I didn't... it's not you, it's -”

“You don’t think I’m used to you snapping after all this time?" Jane said, one eyebrow quirking up. "This is classic Darcy Lewis. Deflect, dodge, and disarm. The three Ds of Darcyism. I've got a PhD in dealing with you.”

“You couldn’t have warned the rest of us?” Both girls turned their attention to Peter, Darcy narrowing watery eyes and Jane giving him a softly slanted smirk.

Turning back to Jane, Darcy actually considered the astrophysicist’s question. Did she feel weird? Yes. Was it because the stone? Maybe, but she wasn't sure. She tried to answer the best she could, trying to explain something she didn’t fully understand herself. “I have a headache. My eyes hurt. My body feels… tired? But I’m not hearing the stone anymore. It’s almost like it’s gone… quiet.”

“Explain.”

Darcy’s snort of laughter made her head ache even more, but she’d anticipated that exact word coming from Jane’s mouth in that exact tone, knowing her best friend too well. “Whenever I use the stone and hear the voice, it takes everything in me to pull back. It’s exhausting, but I think… I think it’s the same for the stone. It’s like there’s a chunk of time where I can use the powers without worrying about it. Like… I’m not explaining it right.”

“It, uh, uses energy to fight you, just like you use energy to fight it.”

“Yes!" Darcy said, snapping her finger and glancing at Peter, shutting her eyes as the sudden movement made her temples throb. "Exactly, Peter, yes. It’s like there’s a break in the fighting for a bit, like the stone has to gather itself before it attacks again.”

“Like some kind of remission?”

“Maybe. Yeah. Like the voice... ebbs a bit, and I’m in complete control of the power while it’s quiet.” Darcy gestured helplessly, at a loss as to how to explain it better.

“Do you know how long it lasts? How long ago since you last lost control?”

Darcy frowned, trying to remember. "Um... the last time I almost lost it was at the mall.”

“That was three months ago,” Jane said with a considering expression. “And when was it before that?”

“Uh…” Darcy ran a hand over her face, “when I connected myself to Bucky, I think.”

“And before that was the battle,” Peter added, the papers in his hands forgotten, his face sharing the same determined look as Jane’s..

“If we put that on a timeline…” Jane rose from the couch, pulling at a giant white board shoved in the corner and dragging it closer. Darcy watched her work, the blue dry-erase marker moving with purpose. “So if we plot the times you lost control with the length of latency..."

When Jane stepped back from the board, all three blinked at the graph: the blue lines rose and fell, but it appeared like there were larger and larger intervals in between each spike. "The time between each episode is getting longer. You’ve been training with your powers, using it on a daily basis instead of avoiding it, and it looks like you’re gaining more control the more you use it.”

“Really?”

Jane shrugged her shoulders at Darcy’s question. “In theory.”

Sitting back against the couch, Darcy brought her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “So the more I use it, the better, that’s what you’re saying?”

“Again, in theory, yeah.”

“And,” Peter barked, earning wide eye looks from both of the girls. Darcy watched him rummage through the paperwork strewn about, shuffling in a frenzy until he found what he was looking for. He shook the paper before holding it out toward Jane. “Once we get the neural dampener completed, that’ll give you even more control, and training with it will be easier.”

Darcy blinked at him, her attention then spreading to the papers he was buried in. She realized the mess he’d made around himself was her file; brain scans, blood work, EKGs and ultrasounds... all hers. Peter'd been working on her stuff since they’d got back. Like he had a mission. Like it was the most important thing. Darcy's chest ached as she looked into his earnestly worried eyes.

Jane lifted her gaze from the paper he'd handed her. “How close are we?”

“Probably, uh, an hour, now?” When Peter looked up at Jane, he realized she hadn’t been asking about the plane coming from Wakanda, but how long until the neural dampener was ready. “Oh! Right, um, maybe a week or two? I’ve been working with Friday in simulations to make sure we didn’t miss anything. Once Tony's back and we get Friday back online...”

Nodding, Darcy let out a sigh, eyes falling closed, her head falling back against the couch. In a week or two, she might be able to use these powers without being terrified by them. Maybe she’d actually be able to use them for something good, something worthwhile.

“Darce, how about we go back to your room so you can shower and change. By the time you’re done, they should be landing.”

Jane made it sound so simple, but thinking of Steve and Bucky arriving filled Darcy’s stomach with anxious fear. She had no idea the extent of Steve’s injuries, or what he’d look like when he got here, let alone not knowing how Bucky was doing with it all. Horrible, she was sure, just like she was. “Janey…”

Knowing that tone in her best friend’s voice, Jane crossed the space, sat next to Darcy and wrapped her arms around the other woman's shoulders, squeezing tightly. “I know. It’s not easy, it’s never easy.”

“How do you do this with Thor?" Darcy asked against Jane's neck, voice soft and unsure. "How are you not terrified every time he goes out?”

“I am,” Jane said, pulling back and pressing her palm to Darcy’s cheek, “I’m terrified every time he’s out there, putting himself in danger, running toward the fight instead of away from it. At some point you either start to process the fear, or you decide it’s not something you can cope with.”

Darcy’s voice was small when her eyes flicked up to Jane’s. “And what if it’s not?”

Sighing, Jane rubbed her hands up and down Darcy’s arms, chin dipping in her friend's direction. “You know the answer.”

It was something Jane had said to Darcy often. Anytime Darcy asked a question, Jane almost never gave her a straight answer. Jane was a scientist, after all, and that meant the journey toward the answer was almost as important as the answer itself. Jane would make her plot it out, giving her little nudges along the way until Darcy discovered the answer herself.

Question: What if the fear wasn’t something Darcy could cope with?

Answer: She’d need to get rid of the source of the fear.

Question: What was the source of the fear?

Answer: Bucky and Steve.

Question: Could she get rid of Bucky and Steve?

Answer: No. Never. Not even for one second.

Darcy couldn't fathom her life any longer without having both of them at her side. They were hers. She was theirs. The fear, the frustration, the worry and heartache... She'd have to learn how to function with it, because if the alternative was walking away from her boys? She'd choose them every time.

Every. Damn. Time.

“Shower and a change of clothes,” Darcy said softly, voice sounding a bit more like herself.

“Then we’re right back, plenty of time before they get here.”

“Okay.”

“And I’ll be right here," Peter said, standing and carefully tiptoeing around all the papers at his feet. "I’ll get you if anything changes, I promise.”

Darcy reached out and clutched Jane’s hand in her own, taking comfort from her friend, steeling herself as they started toward the door. Her stomach was in knots as they moved and Darcy tried to remember all the garbage cans around the compound in case she needed to stop and dry heave, seeing as there was nothing in her stomach. Darcy stopped before they left the lab completely, attention turning back toward Peter, who was standing near his work station. "Hey Pete?"

He turned, giving her a small smile. "Yeah?"

“Thank you.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “It’s nothing.”

“No, it’s not nothing,” Darcy insisted with a frown, eyes serious where they held his. “If you hadn’t -”

“Hey, no, I know. Of course, Darcy, I mean, you’d do the same for me. Seriously. You don’t have to thank me.”

“Well I am, and I did. So… too bad.” His grin turned a bit crooked, waving as Jane draped an arm around Darcy's shoulders and led her away.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I hate how often I’ve said that recently. You’re going through these huge things and I should be here.”

Darcy was standing under the spray of water, arms feeling like they were eight-hundred pounds. She hadn't shampooed, hadn't used her pouf, she'd just... stood there, thoughts tumbling as she watched the water circle around the drain. “That’s not…" She shook her head, knowing that Jane couldn't see her. "We’ve already had this conversation, Janey.”

Jane frowned, picking at a thread from the towels in her lap, unwilling to let the apology drop, the guilt still eating at her. “I’m supposed to be your best friend -”

“You are my best friend.”

“- but I’m out there -”

“...Doing your job...”

“- my head full of numbers and data and it's selfish -”

“Janey.”

“- if I didn’t get so wrapped up in my own stuff -”

“Shut the f*ck up, okay?!” Darcy wrenched the shower curtain back, her voice still ringing off the tiled walls.

Jane blinked impossibly wide eyes, words successfully stopped by Darcy's outburst. Darcy stood there, unconcerned by the fact that she was naked, hair hanging in wet strands and sticking to her skin, cheeks red with emotion. "You don't get to talk to me about being selfish, okay? I've got that game cornered, I'm the heavyweight champion, and if you want to go a few rounds, you'll lose."

"Darcy -"

Roughly snatching the towel that Jane held up for her, Darcy shook her head, wrapping it around herself, her movements shaky and stilted.

"I saw all that fighting, knew that they were losing, and you know what I thought about? How I didn't want the world to end because you're my only real friend, and if the world was destroyed, then you'd leave me too, just like everyone else, and I couldn't have that. f*ck the other eight billion people on this planet, I grabbed that stone because I didn’t want my life to change in any way."

Quiet descended in the bathroom, only broken up by the sounds of the faucet dripping and Darcy's harsh breathing. Jane's eyes were still wide, this time with a soft disbelief. "You saved the world... for me?"

"Yes," Darcy snapped, crossing her arms over her chest, giving Jane a defiant look.

Another quiet second.

"And you say that as if I'm supposed to agree that it was selfish for you to do?"

The tone in Jane's voice made Darcy shift, toes flexing against the porcelain below her feet, uncertainty tinting her response. "... yeah."

"I love you, I do, but do you know how f*cking stupid you sound right now?" Jane stood up, snapping her fingers when Darcy opened her mouth to argue. "No, you're going to listen to me because you had your turn and now it's mine."

"Jane -"

"Apbupbupbup! What did I say? My turn." When Darcy's mouth remained closed, Jane took a step back, taking in a deep breath. "You, Darcy Anne Lewis, are infuriating. You talk over people, you change topics without telling anyone, you hold grudges, and you get frustrated too easily. Your sarcasm is so sharp and sometimes you say things without caring if they hurt someone. You're loud, and crude, and you swear way too much. But you're not dumb, so you need to suck it up and actually hear what I'm saying. Are you listening?" Jane paused, an eyebrow raising. "Answer me! Are you listening?"

"Yes, I'm f*cking listening, jesus!"

"Good, because this is important: you were willing to put your life in danger to save me. Hear that difference? You're putting the emphasis on you, I'm putting it on me. You were willing to die for me, so that I didn't die, so that I had a chance."

"But everyone else -"

"I don't give a sh*t about everyone else. You almost died for me. Please, for the love of science, tell me you understand how not selfish that is."

"Fine, okay? I get it. f*ck." Darcy glared at a spot on the floor. The quiet hung in the air until the anxious bite of it forced Darcy to speak. "I think that’s the most I've heard you swear when you weren't drunk," Darcy said, one corner of her mouth quirking up when she glanced up at Jane.

Jane crossed her arms over her chest. "Yeah, well, when someone is faced with that much stupid coming out of one person's mouth... see, this is why I'm not a teacher. I don't have the patience for it. I'd call everyone an idiot."

Darcy snorted softly. "And suddenly I know why no one else applied for your internship."

"You regret applying?"

Darcy felt the small grin climb onto her lips. "Not for one f*cking second."

"Good,” Jane’s face softened and she sat back down on the closed toilet, grabbing the extra towel she’d thrown to the ground. “Now actually wash that rat's nest on the top of your head so we can get you dressed and ready."

The fight with Jane had been a welcome distraction, but now that it was over, Darcy's stomach flipped with fear. How bad was Steve? Eight hours of flight time was a lot. What if something had happened in route? Were they prepared for that? Why hadn’t be woken up yet? Was Bucky alright? Was he hurt too, but not bad like Steve? What about everyone else? Tony? Bruce? Thor? It was all so much and her mind was running like a gerbil on a wheel, dizzy with every horrible possibility. "Jane..."

"One thing at a time, Darcy,” Jane said, her tone warm and reassuring, “that's all you can do right now. One thing at a time. Shower now, everything else later."

Letting out a breath, Darcy nodded. Pulling the curtain closed, she draped the towel over the shower rod and flipped the water back on. She repeated those words over and over, until they sounded like white noise and could drown out everything else. One thing at a time. One thing at a time. One thing at a time.

It took everything Darcy had not to run up the cargo bay doors the second the quinjet landed. She rose on her tiptoes, trying to see inside, chewing heavily on the inside of her cheek as her stomach flipped with fear, anxiety, and apprehension. The first person that materialized from the dark interior was Bruce, frumpled and looking like he was ready to sleep for a week. She reached out and squeezed his shoulder as he passed, giving him what she hoped was an encouraging smile. He looked like he might have tried to say something, but thought better of it and passed by her without a word.

Thor appeared next, Mjolnir held loosely in his hand as he walked to solid ground. As he neared, Darcy felt Jane run up to her side, her best friend vibrating with relief. She watched Jane throw herself at Thor, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. The Asgardian patted the astrophysicist’s back, pulling back to press his lips briefly to hers.

The look on his face made Darcy’s stomach fall, chest tightening when Thor bent down and kissed her forehead before draping a tired arm across Jane’s shoulder and leading her away.

When Darcy’s gaze swung back toward the jet, she watched Tony slowly make his way down the metal steps, his left arm in a sling and several cuts on his face covered by butterfly bandages. Darcy swallowed hard as he came to stand in front of her, not sure what to make of the expression on his face.

"I'm -"

Tony grunted when Darcy threw her arms around his waist, doing her best not to jostle his bad arm. She pressed her face to his chest and babbled. "I heard the gunfire when we were on the phone then saw the flash and you went flying and then the signal died and I wasn't sure if you were hurt, or worse, and I didn’t know what to do because Friday was down and f*ck I'm glad you're not dead."

Right arm lifting to hug her back, Tony pressed his cheek to the top of her head, his breath coming out in a short burst as he rocked them softly from side to side. "Would have avoided it if I could, Lewis."

She pulled back to look at him, caught off guard by him using her actual name, her eyebrows knitting together in worry as she tried to understand the look in his eyes.

"I'm sorry I couldn't... that I wasn't..."

Realizing what he was trying to apologize for, Darcy shook her head and glared at him. "No, nope, shut the f*ck up, Stark. Guilt's not a good look for you, okay? So shut the f*ck up.” When he snorted softly, Darcy nodded her head over her shoulder, back toward the compound. “The kid's inside, waiting for you. I think he likes you or something, so you might want to let him know you didn’t die, or whatever. You look beat to hell."

Tony gave her a wry grin, reaching up to press his knuckles to her jaw before pushing softly, turning her head. "Whatever you say, cupcake."

As the billionaire moved past her, Darcy's eyes peered into the dark interior of the jet, waiting, feeling a thread of panic when a few seconds passed with no exits. She was moments away from sprinting inside when two figures walked toward her. She knew who they were, but this was the first time she'd met them. Doing her best not to appear dismissive - it wasn't like she didn't care, it was just her mind was singularly focused on Steve and Bucky - she nodded at both of them. "Hi."

Sam smiled at the pretty dark-haired girl, having heard enough about her from Steve to peg her as The Darcy. "So we finally meet. Cap's been talking about you non-stop. It's kind of annoying."

"He's awake?" Darcy's eyes widened, her heart speeding up, a relieved smile lighting her features.

"Not yet," Wanda said with a shake of her head, frowning softly, "but it's only a matter of time."

Darcy nodded, disappointment curling in her stomach. The thread of fear grew taut as she was left to wonder just how hurt Steve really was. Shaking away the dark thoughts, she turned back to Sam and Wanda, realizing she'd been standing there in silence, staring past them. She opened her mouth but Sam cut her off. "Hey, it's fine. We'll talk later."

Nodding, not trusting herself to speak, Darcy bit her lip as they moved around her and toward the compound. There were people behind her from the med ward, wearing their pretty blue scrubs, waiting and ready, and she tried her best not to think of them as vultures, waiting to pounce at the first sight of Steve. More movement in the dark froze her heart and she watched as the foot of a hospital gurney came into the light.

Darcy took a deep, shuddering breath inward as her eyes took everything in, trying to process it but having a hard time. Steve's face was nothing more than a swollen bruise, almost unrecognizable if it weren’t for the blond hair at the top of his head. Bucky’s memories of times before the serum flashed through her head, when Steve had been younger, vulnerable, and frailer, when Bucky had worried that Steve might not make it through the winter. Her stomach dropped knowing that, despite Bucky’s memories, nothing would have prepared her for this.

"Oh my god."

She rushed forward, coming to the side of gurney, hearing the running of feet behind her as the doctors and nurses followed. Darcy's hands hovered over Steve, wanting to touch him but afraid to at the same time, afraid to hurt him worse. Hazel eyes looked at him up and down, a small sob falling past her lips at the sight, hearing her heartbeat in her ears as she looked at him in heartbroken disbelief. When she saw hands wrap around the rails of the gurney, she shook her head and gestured frantically for them to back off. "No! Wait! Not yet!"

"We need to get him inside."

"Just f*cking wait!" The shrillness in her voice made everyone freeze, and Darcy turned back to Steve, taking one last, long look at him before she closed her eyes.

When she opened them, her vision was stolen by blackness, the same darkness she'd almost gotten trapped in hours ago. Even after hearing Jane's hypothesis of her powers being 'safe' for a while as the stone gathered its strength back, Darcy was still terrified to be in the blackness. But it wasn’t because she feared losing control, but because she feared using her powers and not seeing that glittering, gorgeous gold that was Steve's soul.

The wail that broke free from Darcy's mouth hung in the air as her knees gave out. She never hit the ground. Bucky gathered her in his arms, cradling her to his chest as he sat heavily on the ramp, pulling her closer. "It's okay, shhhhh,” he murmured, his heart breaking as she keened, “it's okay, shhh, we're here now, we're home."

Bucky watched them wheel Steve away, grey eyes following until they were out of sight. He could hear Darcy whispering something against his neck, over and over, the words too soft to make out. He pressed his lips to her hair before he pulled back enough so he could see her face, cupping her cheeks in both of his hands, watching the tears rolling down them. "Darcy..."

"He's still there. He's still there. He's still in there, Bucky," Darcy said, louder, hazel eyes blinking at Bucky, wave after wave of relief crashing over her and forcing more tears down her cheeks. "He's still there! His gold, it's still there, Buck, he's still in there!"

Bucky pressed his lips to hers, his voice stolen by emotion, unable to swallow past the lump in his throat. Some part of him must have been waiting for her to say those words, for her to see Steve and know that he was still there under the injuries and bruises, that he still had that brilliant gold and cobalt inside of him. He squeezed Darcy hard, feeling her cry against his neck, even as her shoulders were beginning to shake with relieved laughter, too.

"He's still in there," he repeated, pressing his cheek against the top of her head, a grin on his lips even as his first tears slipped free.

Chapter 29: Love Me Louder

Chapter Text

After Bucky and Darcy had recovered from their anxiety-relieving breakdown, they’d overseen the transfer of Batroc from his shackled-seat in the quinet to his one room cell in the prison wing. Darcy hadn’t even known they had a ‘prison wing,’ but she supposed she’d never really asked what all was hidden in the compound’s labyrinth-like building.

She was positive she’d never seen that look on Bucky’s face, but she remembered it from the Soldier’s memories; the man she loved was imagining a million different ways to kill Batroc, making it slow and deliberate, stretching it out over days, until he was begging for the sweet release of death.

Darcy had never instantly hated anyone, save Maria Hill, but watching the smirk climb onto Batroc’s face made her realize what real hate felt like. It didn’t matter that Bucky’d told her the mercenary wasn’t the one who’d done the extensive damage to Steve, the fact that he’d been on the same side as the thing that’d hurt Steve was enough to fill her with white hot rage.

“No one talks to him until I talk to him, you got that?” The guard posted at the door nodded at Bucky, giving him a quick ‘yes sir’ before standing back at attention. Satisfied the agent would follow his order, Bucky turned back to Darcy, seeing the flash of anger in her eyes, glaring at the door and the man on the other side.

Darcy turned her narrowed eyes to Bucky, her expression softening the littlest bit. “You’re going to interrogate him?”

Bucky wove his arm with Darcy’s as they walked away, nodding at her question. “I want to know everything he knows. If he knows where the rest of Thanos’ army is, we’ll get it out of him.”

“I want to be there when you question him.”

“Darce -”

Darcy held up her other hand, stopping his words as her hazel gaze swung focused on him. “Let’s ignore the argument you’re about to spew, and instead look at this from a metaphysical angle, okay? I’ll be able to tell if he’s lying, or not telling us everything he knows, and maybe a woman who floated in the air and turned his former employer into dust will terrify him. I want to be there,” she said, more forcefully this time, eyes steady as she looked at him.

Bucky sighed, recognizing the determination in her eyes. There was no talking Darcy out of something when she’d given her ‘resolve face,’ and part of him understood why she wanted what she did; his fingers itched to rip Batroc limb from limb for even touching Steve. He wanted to hear the man scream in pain, to see the fear creep into his eyes when he realized he was looking death in the face.

“Okay.”

Darcy hid her surprised expression by looking forward, not wanting to question the why of Bucky’s agreeing, just happy that they hadn’t had to fight about it. She was so tired and didn’t think she had the energy to fight anymore. She wanted to curl up with her boys, because under all those horrible bruises and the swelling, Steve was still in there, and that’s all that mattered.

Bucky and Darcy walked arm in arm down the hallway, neither willing to put space between them, needing the physical comfort of the other. “So, tell me,” Darcy said, glancing at Bucky. “are you okay? Really okay? And not just saying you’re fine because Steve is worse off than you so you don’t want anyone to bother worrying about you? Because if that’s what you’re doing -”

“You kiddin’? You just got done telling me how you’d know if someone was lying, you think I’d try to challenge you right now?”

“Uhhh, yeah. Yeah, I do think that’s something you’d do.”

A small smirk lifted Bucky’s lips, and he shook his head softly. “I’m fine, doll. Really. Just a few bruises, scrapes here and there. Promise.”

“Alright,” Darcy said, choosing to believe him, too exhausted to blink and make he sure wasn’t just saying what she wanted to hear. She leaned into him, tucking herself under his arm as they walked. “So tell me about Steve.”

“The doctors -”

Darcy shook her head. “They’ll tell me in all the technical terms what’s broken and what’s bruised, but they don’t know him like you do. They don’t know how he heals. You do. So I’m asking you. What are we looking at?”

Bucky sighed, grey gaze focusing on the tiles beneath their feet as they walked. It was too hard, thinking about how hurt Steve really was; he’d been unconscious for almost twenty-four hours, and every minute that ticked by felt like agony to Bucky, like his heart was in a vice.

He knew the battles Steve had been a part of, even if he hadn’t been there for all of them. The battle in Manhattan had been bad structurally for the city, but other than Stark’s wormhole journey, almost all of the Avengers had gotten out of it unscathed. Sokovia? Again, relatively unhurt. Even in the final battle with Thanos, Steve had never lost consciousness.

… the only thing that Steve’s current health could be compared to was at the Triskellion, when The Soldier had taken him down. The serum pumping through his veins meant that Steve Rogers could take a pretty heavy beating and, for all intents and purposes, shrug it off. That the blond still hadn’t woken up filled Bucky with fear. Darcy’d been able to lessen that fear, seeing and confirming that Steve’s gold was still shining, but he’d be on edge until he saw those beautiful blue eyes again.

Bucky stretched his arm, pulling her closer. “He’ll survive.”

Sighing, Darcy nodded, a frown turning her mouth down, not liking the answer but knowing there was nothing else they could do. “So we just wait for him to wake up?”

“We wait.”

Ugh. The worst. “I hate waiting.”

Bucky snorted. “I know.”

Darcy glanced over at him.“But, like, a lot.”

“Mmhmm,” Bucky hummed.

“I’ve been told I am not a very a patient person.”

“You? Really? Now why on earth would anyone say such a thing?”

Darcy’s hazel eyes slid to look up at Bucky, the smirk on his face settling something inside of her, something she’d been missing since they’d both left her side. All of the fear, all of the anxiety, and all of the turmoil with the stone melted away for a little while when she looked into the gorgeous grey eyes of the man at her side. “f*ck, I missed you.”

Grinning, Bucky pressed his lips to her temple. “Missed you too.”

“Tony?”

Tony turned at Darcy’s questioning tone, leather jacket creaking as he nodded toward Steve. “I checked on the kid. He’s fine. Just wanted to make sure Cap’s all set before I leave.”

Darcy felt Bucky hang back by the door as she crossed toward the billionaire, her breath still catching a bit when her eyes landed on the blond in the bed. “The Dick is in his room.” When Tony looked toward her with an eyebrow raised, she shrugged her shoulders. “The French guy.”

“Batroc,” Bucky said, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, “his name is Batroc.”

“I don’t give a flying f*ck what his name is, I’ll be referring to him as The Dick, and The Dick is in his windowless box, where he will stay until we get to question him.” When Tony shot her an incredulous look at the use of the word ‘we’, Darcy’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

“... nothing.”

“What?”

“It’s just…” Tony gestured at her with his one good arm. “I wouldn’t exactly call you the poster child for intimidation.”

“One? I’m not a child, you asshole. Two? I can be intimidating,” Darcy said, a hand on her hip as she glared.

“Yeah? Got nerves of steel?”

“When they need to be, yeah!”

“Good, because I just got done talking to Barton and Romanoff.”

Feeling like the air had been punched out of her lungs, Darcy’s shoulders dropped, her eyes looking down at the white sheets covering Steve. sh*t. “Oh.”

“What ‘oh’?”

Grimacing, Darcy slowly turned toward Bucky, who was looking at her with singular focus. “After the call with Tony got dropped and it was clear something bad was happening, I might have hot wired one of Tony’s cars so Pete and I could find Clint and Natasha.”

“And?”

Darcy’s eyes rolled up toward the ceiling at Tony’s needling, begging Bowie for strength. “And I had to use my powers because neither of us knew where Clint’s Secret Farm was located.”

“And?”

She spun toward Tony, wishing she could have avoided this conversation for just a little while longer. Was it Tony’s goal in life to make everything as difficult as possible? “If you want to tell the f*cking story, then f*cking tell it, jesus!”

“What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that some of the people I love were in danger and we needed to find someone who could help them!”

“I know your ‘boys’ have both died and come back, but it’s not normal for the rest of us mortals, and most smart people avoid dying when possible.”

“Says the man who took a one-way trip into space while holding a nuclear warhead!”

“It is not your job -”

“- if my family -”

“- you’re lucky they were able to -”

“Hey!”

Both Tony and Darcy turned their glares at each other toward Bucky, whose voice was still bouncing off the walls, looking between both of them with an unamused look on his face. Darcy did her best not to fidget under the weight of his stare.

“What is he talking about, Darcy?”

Sighing, Darcy put both fists on her hips, looking down at the floor, her cheeks already heating. f*ck, this was going to be bad, she knew it. Just an hour, one quiet hour with Bucky and Steve, that’s all she’d been asking for, but even that was too much. “Since we didn’t know where the farm was, I was in the blackness for, like, two hours.”

Bucky heard the hesitance in Darcy’s voice, could see the red creeping up her neck and tinting her cheeks with shame. Tony was still looking at her, his jaw clenched, obviously upset. He’d tried to keep up with their argument but he knew he was missing something. “And?”

Darcy felt her eye twitch when Bucky repeated the word Tony had already beaten her over the head with. “I had an allergic reaction to the stone. Things got dicey.”

“Dicey? Dicey?! You had a seizure and your heart stopped! They might not have got you back! We left you and Parker here so you wouldn’t get hurt!”

“I know, okay? I know!”

“Obviously you don’t!”

“Hey!” Bucky clapping his hands at them seemed to do the trick, forcing both Tony and Darcy to look in his direction again. He wasn’t sure how he’d become the mediator of this conversation, but he could feel the nagging bite of worry going up and down his arms. The things Tony was saying had begun to form a hard nugget of apprehension in his stomach. He could tell Darcy was holding something back, something she didn’t want to admit, something she knew he wouldn’t like. “Stark? Let her talk. Darcy? Everything. Now.”

Sighing, ignoring the hard glare Tony was still pointing her way, Darcy grabbed one of the chairs and pulled it closer to the bed. She reached up and clasped Steve’s hand in her own, needing to feel his warmth, taking comfort from the blond even if he wasn’t awake.

“The stone… tried to take me, or, tried to, f*ck, I don’t know, hollow me out? Take control? It took a lot to fight against. I was in the dark for so long and having to concentrate that long… I slipped. I tried not to, but I was so tired. Peter says I was shaking, then my heart stopped. When we get to Clint’s farm, they gave me something and I came back.”

Bucky exhaled slowly, seeing the creeping fear as it slowly filled Darcy’s eyes. He knew she could cast a shield of bravado that hid her insecurities from view, but he knew her, and he could tell it’d scared her.

The mental images of her having a seizure, of her heart stopping, of her not breathing… It grabbed his heart and squeezed. Her abilities were so powerful, so chaotic, the fact that she’d put herself in danger to help them only confirmed what he’d been suspecting for a while. Fear of losing her crested and crashed inside himself and he did his best to keep the dread off his face “That it?”

Darcy shrugged her shoulders, leaning against the rail on Steve’s bed, frowning. “Mostly.”

“I didn’t ask for mostly, doll. All of it. Please.”

“I spoke Russian,” she said, earning a raised eyebrow from Bucky. Her fingers were rubbing against the back of Steve’s hand, over and over, an outlet for her nervous fidgeting. “When they brought me back, I was still lost in the black, hiding from the stone, and I realized that it, that the stone, it didn’t… it doesn’t understand the Soldier. He’s like this whole other thing. There’s my soul, and your soul, but the Soldier doesn’t really have one, so it’s like the stone can’t see him. So I hid in the Soldier.”

Glancing down at his feet, Bucky took in a deep breath. He knew she had all the memories of what he’d done when it wasn’t him, when it was the Soldier, but he’d never really stopped to consider what it was like for her, carrying those memories, knowing what the Soldier knew, like having a completely other person in her head, too.

Robotic.

Cold.

Systematic.

"But it's not... I almost didn't get back. Natasha pulled me out of the darkness, but I don't know what would have happened if she wasn't there. The Soldier heard and recognized her voice and it helped guide me out of the black." She risked a glance up at Bucky, seeing the worried expression on his face. "I'm sorry," she finally breathed, reaching up to wipe the tear from the corner of her eye before it could fall, "I thought you needed help and it was the only thing I could think of. Please don't be mad."

"Darcy, that's..." Bucky crossed the floor, coming to kneel in front of her. He grabbed her hand that wasn't wrapped up with Steve's, giving her a slightly crooked smile, peering up into her watery eyes. "Does it terrify me that something bad happened to you? Yes, of course it does. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you or Steve. The two of you seem to love throwing yourselves in the middle of a fight, regardless of how pear shaped it could go, and it drives me crazy. But I'm not mad at you, Darcy."

When she gave him a small nod, the movement pushed a tear down her cheek, and Bucky reached up with his thumb to wipe it away. "Still don't know how the hell I fell in love with two self-sacrificing punks..."

"Just lucky, I guess," Darcy replied, a smile ghosting onto her lips as she gripped Bucky and Steve's hands in her own. When Tony cleared his throat she jumped, so tired that she'd forgotten he was there, that he'd been the one yelling at her in the first place. "Tony, I'm -"

"Supposed to be on the practice squad," the billionaire interrupted, brown eyes pinning her from behind his glasses, "but now you're looking to be on the active roster, that what you're saying?"

"Uh..." Darcy blinked quickly, looking away from Tony and back at Bucky.

Did she? Did she want to start working toward using her powers as more than just a neat party trick? The thought alone caused her stomach to cramp with fear, but there was something else there, too. She'd never really considered herself a fighter, even though she'd gotten in her fair share of tussles growing up, and she knew she'd never be as physically strong like Bucky or Steve, but she couldn't ignore the fact that maybe she was meant to be helping. She had to have the mutation and abilities for a reason, right?

Darcy couldn't punch someone as hard as Steve, but she could throw someone across the room. She couldn't fly through the air and shoot energy blasts from her hands like Tony, but she'd be able to know if there were anyone trapped in a building. She couldn't terrify people by being a giant, green rage monster, but she'd be able to tell where the bad guys were hiding, and how many of them there were. She'd never be a spy like Natasha or Clint, but she'd be able to lead civilians to safety. She couldn't throw a magical hammer made from the metal of a dying star, but she could stay on the edges, out of the main fight, giving backup where and when it was needed.

... like a lab monkey, but for the Avengers.

Darcy’s eyes slid to look at Steve, bruised and beaten and bloody, and a memory came to the front of her mind, so clear and vivid and filled with emotion that she swallowed hard. It was of Steve, before the fall, before the serum, the night before Bucky had shipped out. They’d been arguing about Steve trying to enlist, the fear so thick on the back of Bucky’s tongue that it’d been hard to breathe. ’Bucky, come on. There are men laying down their lives,’ Steve’d said, tone soft and determined at the same time, ’I got no right to do any less than them.’

Bucky let out a resigned sigh when Darcy’s eyes swung from Steve and connected with his. He’d suspected this day would come, sooner or later, and had done his best to prepare Steve for the inevitable. He knew Darcy so well, as well as he knew himself, and he’d known that once she got enough control over her powers, she’d want to help. Bucky’d hoped they’d have more time to adjust to the idea, but as he looked into her eyes, hazel and wide, he knew she’d already decided.

Despite the thread of terror tugging taut in her heart, Darcy turned toward Tony, one shoulder lifting in a shrug. "Get me a jersey, I guess."

“We'll get you training wheels,” Tony said with a soft shake of his head and an eye roll, heading for the door.

“Hey?”

Tony sighed, leaning against the open door, raising an eyebrow as Darcy climbed to her feet and came to stand before him. “Yes, princess?”

“Peter said you made me a suit.”

“Did he now?”

“Yes.”

“Did you open it?”

“Not yet. But did you know?”

“That question’s a bit vague, mind pinning it down for me?”

“Yes you dick, did you know that eventually I’d want to, you know, go out and ‘be all that I can be’?”

“I made an educated guess. And with seven PhDs I’m pretty f*cking educated.”

Darcy crossed her arms over her chest, eyes narrowing. “So the yelling at me? Calling me dumb? What was all that for?”

Tony sighed. “Maybe I was hoping it'd scare you enough to change your mind.”

“But why?”

Tony’s face didn’t change. “I hate looking for new employees.”

A small, knowing smirk curled Darcy’s lips. “Liar.”

“Let me know when Cap's done with his beauty rest. We’ve got a few things to discuss.”

“You liiiike me, asshole,” she sing-songed, “you really liiiike me.”

“Forget it. You’re fired. Your resignation has been tendered and accepted.”

“Nope, I’m your friend.” When Tony rolled his eyes and made his way into the hall, Darcy followed him, calling his name from the doorway. He disappeared from sight and she turned back to Bucky with a smile on her face.

It dimmed, the small bubble of normalcy popping when her eyes landed on Steve, battered and bruised, and Bucky, who looked so tired. Darcy knew her eyes held the same exhaustion, emotionally drained from the past forty-eight hours, and the only thing that would make her feel better was basking in their warmth.

“I was so scared,” she said, slowly making her way toward him. When Bucky held out his open arms, Darcy curled into him, legs hanging over the side of his chair, pressing her face into his neck. She took a deep breath, thoughts in a free-fall.

The people she loved had been attacked. She’d almost died. Steve was still unconscious, and she’d just agreed to become a pseudo-Avenger. To be a pre-Avenger. More like… Avenger Adjacent. It was a lot. A lot.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Bucky said, lips pressing against her forehead, eyes sliding to the left, the familiar sting of pain singing through him as he looked at Steve. “Seeing him on the ground, pale, face covered in blood…” He felt Darcy shudder in his arms, her sharp exhale fanning against his collarbone, her hands tremoring against his skin.

“I can’t even imagine,” she whispered, chest aching at the thought. The room was quiet except for the random beeps that sounded from the various machines surrounding the bed. “Do you… the thing…”

“Disappeared,” Bucky answered, his voice a growl, like gravel, “a flash of purple light and he was gone. Left Batroc behind without a second thought.”

“Evil alien dudes don’t have high morals and a strong sense of loyalty? I’ll make sure to tell The Dick that I am ‘tres surprised’,” Darcy said, doing her best attempt at a french accent. The small chuckle it received from Bucky made her smile against his neck. “We’re staying in here, right? Until he wakes up?”

“I’ve got no plans to be anywhere but right here, with the two of you.”

Darcy shifted so she could see Steve on the other side of Bucky, watching the blond’s chest rise and fall in deep, even breaths. “He’ll wake up soon, Buck,” she assured him, her voice more certain she was inside, but knowing she needed to stay strong for Bucky.

“I know.”

“...when he does, will you tell him about my almost dying and getting lost in the blackness bit for me?”

“Not a damn chance in hell.”

“f*ck.”

Bucky could feel the throbbing of his heartbeat in his ears, his knuckles white from being formed into fists for so long under the table, and so far, all of it had resulted in nothing. Georges Batroc had done nothing but stare at Bucky with a smug, self-satisfied expression on his face. He appeared aloof, uncaring, like this was all a game.

Though Bucky’s face was impassive, inside he was boiling with rage.

Darcy, who was sitting behind the one-way glass, twisted the ring on her hand, foot beating out a dizzying rhythm, fidgeting as her anxiety grew stronger and stronger. The mercenary had given Bucky nothing, and Darcy could see the frustration building in her love, watching it tighten his shoulders. From their shared memories, she knew that there’d be a tension headache starting at the base of his skull and moving upward.

So not only did The Dick help hurt Steve, but now he’s hurting Buck, too.

The flat, bored look on Batroc’s face was filling Darcy with white-hot ire, while an annoying nag at the back of her mind kept scratching at her as she stared at the evil son of a bitch. What was it she couldn’t remember? “Can we hurt him? Would it help?” She looked over her shoulder at Natasha and Clint, frowning.

“No,” Natasha answered with a shake of her head.

“Yes,” Clint said at the same time, shrugging his shoulder when the redhead turned to glare at him. “Yes, it would help, but no, we can’t.”

“So we let him rot here and say nothing because we have to be the good guys and that means we don’t hurt people who hurt people?” When no one answered her, Darcy turned back to the glass, frowning at the silence on the other side.

Bucky shifted in the metal chair across the table from Batroc and leaned forward, something itching at the back of his thoughts as he looked into the egoistic green of the frenchman’s eyes, something familiar in their depths. “You know how this goes,” Bucky said, earning a nod from the other man, “and you know what’s at stake. You help us know what the next move is, and, per the Accords, you can petition to have the death penalty taken off the table.”

“Mmm, a nice, minimum-security prison with outdoor privileges and pudding on Fridays?” Batroc’s accent managed to sound condescending, as did the look on his face. “I do not believe that is on the table, is it, Sergeant?”

“You’re on FBI and Interpol most-wanted lists, have worked with known fugitives and beings who wish to destroy the planet. If you think minimum-security prisons and pudding is in your future, you've got another thing coming.”

“There is nothing you can offer me that will get you what you want. We have spent hours together in this room, but you still hope for something. Why? You waste my time and yours.”

Darcy let out a large sigh, rising from the chair she’d been sitting in and crossing to the glass, laying her palm against it. It was cold, and she realized with a start that she’d never been on this side of the glass before. Sure, she’d been where The Dick was, handcuffed to a table and wondering if stealing the loaf of bread was worth it, but she’d never been on the good guy side.

It felt a bit weird, if she was being honest, and as she glared at Batroc, she couldn’t help the darker thoughts that bubbled to the surface.

This man - whether he’d dealt the blows to Steve that had landed him in the hospital or not - was complicit in trying to destroy the world. Destroy. The World. It was unfathomable to think about and went against everything that Darcy could believe. Yes, people could be evil, but humans tended to have some kind of connection to Earth that would stop them from wanting its outright destruction.

“Does he have a family?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at Clint.

The blond shook his head. “Not that we know of.”

“But it’s not entirely unheard of, right? Having a secret family that no one knows about, Barton?” At Clint’s shrug of concession, Darcy’s hazel eyes swung back to The Dick, looking into his eyes, trying to really see him. Did he have anyone? A wife? A girlfriend? Boyfriend? Kids? A frumpy aged yellow-tabby cat that hated taking baths? Did Georges Batroc have anything that could be considered a worldly attachment?

“You’re looking at life in prison here in the states, at best. At worst? We return you to Wakanda and they try you for war crimes. Wakandan justice? It’s a bit cleaner than ours. Quicker. And if you think you’ll be avoiding time at all, or that someone’s going to come save you? You’re wrong. The only kind of leverage you have right now is what you know happens next.”

Batroc co*cked his head to the side, looking at Bucky critically. “You have no idea what horrors lie around the corner. You talk to me of justice, but that is what you will face next. Justice, for all the horrible things you have done. We are not so different, you and I, Sergeant. Is my face so easily forgotten?”

It was like a lightning bolt, the recognition cementing in her mind, and her breath left her lungs in a huff when she remembered why Batroc’s face looked so familiar. She spun toward Clint and Natasha as realization dawned on her, followed quickly by panic. “Get him out. Now.”

“It was close to… ten years ago, yes? It was meant to be simple, a quiet operation, easy in and easy out. But our intelligence was wrong, and the target was not alone.”

“Now, now! Get him out!” Darcy screamed, hoping it took longer for Bucky to remember, that they could get to him before he realized what Batroc was talking about.

Of all the memories of the Soldier, this was the worst. Just the thought of it turned Darcy’s stomach, and she looked back at the glass with horror. With all the stress, the worry about Steve, she hadn’t remembered either. She recognized Georges Batroc now. She remembered that night. The blood. A teddy bear. She saw it the moment Bucky remembered too, saw him rise to his feet slowly.

She ran out after Natasha and Clint.

“You were quite the professional through it all, Soldat. I learned a lot from you on that night.”

Bucky’s vision was red, the only sound the beating of his heart. He struggled, wanting to fight his way toward Batroc, the memories of that night assaulting his mind in vivid, sick technicolor. How had he forgotten that Batroc had been there, too? Bucky’d come so far, separating himself from the Soldier, but some memories were horrible enough that he would slip, lose the barrier that separated them. This memory was one, something he was going to work on with Dr. Chaas, but now Masa was dead, and this man had something to do with it, and all he could feel was the coldness of the Soldier as it began to bleed into him.

Darcy stood in the doorway, watching as Clint and Natasha held Bucky back, Batroc laughing from his metal seat. Natasha was whispering in Russian, low and insistent, and just like it’d been able to bring Darcy back from the blackness, she watched Bucky refill his eyes, pushing the Soldier away.

After another second of tension, Bucky’s arms fell limply to his side and he let Natasha lead him out of the room. Darcy had a hand pressed to her chest when his grey eyes looked over at her, haunting and heartbreaking. She let Bucky and Natasha pass, uncertain what she could say to make it better. The Soldier’s memories were not ones she spent much time in, and even if those memories might have saved her life a couple days prior, being reminded of the savagery that had happened at the Soldier’s hands…

She looked up when Clint wrapped his fingers around her upper arm. “Hm?”

“You alright?”

Darcy nodded, looking over Clint’s shoulder and toward the man still sitting there, chained to the table, humor and smugness in his eyes. “I’m good. Just… not a good memory.”

“So it is true. They had said, but I did not believe them.” Both Clint and Darcy turned to look at Batroc, their eyes cold. “You truly remember everything he did.”

“Who told you,” Clint asked, hand still resting on Darcy’s arm, “Thanos’ men?” When Batroc went silent, enjoying the moment a little too much, Clint turned back to Darcy with a shake of his head. “He’s just trying to stir you up.”

“What do you know?” Darcy asked, teeth clenching, stomach turning at the thought of what Batroc might know, and who would have told him.

“As I told your other half, there is nothing you have for me.”

Darcy glared, anger lighting in her narrowed eyes. “Is that right?”

“Darcy -”

“There’s no one on this planet that means a thing to you?” she asked, seeing absolutely no reaction on his face. How was someone so removed from humanity that he would willingly help his planet, and the eight billion people on it, be destroyed? It wasn’t right. He had to have someone, some reason.

Batroc shook his head. “Not a soul.”

“Funny you use that word…”

Darcy’s eyes fell closed and when she opened them, she could see and feel the lavender, plum purple of Clint at her side. And right in front of her, almost blending in with the black itself, was a dull, grey spark. She’d never seen a soul this dark, but she supposed she’d not met many mercenaries with no compassion for anyone.

She looked harder at his soul, focusing, looking for something.

Come on, you son of a bitch, show me what you have.

“You have no one? No one you care about?” she repeated, still feeling Clint’s hand on her arm, using it as an anchor like she’d used her song before. “I think you’re lying,” Darcy said with a click of her tongue, taking a step closer to him.

“There is no -”

There. “What about that bit of pink? It’s so faint, buried under all that grey, but it’s there. Like cotton candy.” It was close enough now that Darcy lifted her hand, as if she could touch it.

Clint watched the amber bleed into Darcy’s skin, the glow of her eyes as she looked at Batroc, but not, all at once. She took another step forward, fingers outstretched toward the mercenary, and Clint would see real fear begin to fill the other man’s eyes.

“Arrêtez,” she heard from the Frenchman, distant and muffled.

“It looks like a little girl.” Darcy wasn’t sure where this information was coming from, but it was right there in the color, deep, but she coaxed it out slowly, almost beckoning it closer with a curl of her finger. “Pretty eyes. Your blond hair. Maybe… five? No, six. Starting school soon, then.”

“You do not know -”

“Oh, but she’s sick. The oxygen tank. Therapy. The medical bills are astronomical and... they still don’t know how to help your Lottie. But he… he offered you what you needed. A cure, something off world, something that would help her, heal her, make her like new.”

“Darcy -” Clint warned, trying to pull her back.

“That’s why?” Darcy blinked the blackness away, realizing how close she’d come to Batroc, hands pressed flat against the table that was bolted down in the center of the room as he leaned back in his chair, putting space between them. “You sided with that purple asshole because he promised to make your little girl better? Does she know? Does Charlotte know that her Daddy was willing to kill the entire world on the hope that an insane madman would follow through on his promise of a cure? What would happen if she found out that her Daddy was a murderer? Think she’d blink those gorgeous green eyes at you with anything other than disgust in them?”

“Non,” Batroc said with a firm shake of his head, rising to his feet, pulling on the chains that held him captive.

Clint was pushing at her arms, trying to get her out of the room, but Darcy fought to stay there. “You’re going back to Wakanda and they’re going to fry your ass! She’ll never hear from you again! She’ll grow up knowing her Daddy was an evil, horrible man, and wonder if she’s got a core of evil festering in her, too!”

“Non!”

Clint had all but thrown Darcy over his shoulders by this point, but she threw her hands in Batroc’s direction. “This is your last chance! Why did they want the vibranium?”

“They did not!”

Darcy’s mouth fell closed, feet hitting the floor softly as Clint put her down and turned toward Batroc, the sudden silence in the room making his ears strain. “What do you mean?”

“They were not there for the vibranium,” Batroc said, pulling on his chains, a small vein of fear in his eyes as he glared at her.

Good. You deserve to be afraid, after all the things you’ve done. Darcy’s eyes narrowed further. “Then what the hell were they there for? Why’d they attack Wakanda?”

The Frenchman shook his head. “I do not know.”

“Don’t lie,” Clint growled.

“He’s not,” Darcy said, blinking quickly, glancing at Clint. “He doesn’t know what they were there for.”

“What else do you know?”

Darcy watched Batroc consider Clint’s question before he carefully and calmly sad back in this seat. “I believe there was mention of an agreement. I will take my chances at best.”

She continued to glare at Batroc over Clint’s shoulder as the blond pushed her into the hallway, the door closing and blocking off their view of the interrogation room.. Clint’s blue eyes pinned her as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms, feeling cold and feverish at the same time. Between the memories from the Solider and whatever ability she’d just used in there, Darcy was feeling more than a little off-kilter.

“What the f*ck was that?”

“I.. I don’t know? I could see it? I guess? It was there, if I looked...” She trailed off, not sure how she could explain that once she’d asked for the information, it was there if she looked hard enough.

Clint crossed his arms over his chest and pinned her with unimpressed eyes. “The last time you did that for an extended period of time blew up pretty spectacularly, if I remember correctly.”

“I guess I’m in remission,” she said with a shrug. When he gave her a confused look, she frowned. “It’s a long story.”

“My report is going to be an even longer story. How the hell do I explain what happened in there? That you looked at him and he was hit with a lightning bolt of conscience?”

Darcy’s nose crinkled. “That’s a horrible name. And lightning is more the Big Guy’s thing.”