i. In Which Promises Are Made
New York City, 2016
It takes a moment for everything to come into focus, the clip tones of the Tower's resident A.I is muffled as she tried to shake off the last tendrils of sleep-she couldn't have gone to bed more then an hour ago, the red numbers of her bedside clock agree with her, but J.A.R.V.I.S would not have woken her without need. Blinking at the ceiling she catches the tail end of the A.I's sentenc
"...ster needs your assistance in the lab urgently."
Throwing back the covers she does a sloppy roll to reach the edge of the massive bed before her feet touch the floor, the wood chilly beneath her bare feet and lunged forward for her discarded jeans on the floor. Stepping into the trousers with both feet she informs J.A.R.V.I.S she will be down in five minutes and asks if Stark or Banner are up.
"Sir is currently working in the facilities next door and Dr. Banner is supervising Dr. Fosters progress until your arrival."
"Thanks 'J' man."
"Of course Ms. Lewis."
Not bothering with real shoes she slips into a pair of flip flops by the door, lab safety be damned, and makes her way to the elevator that will lead down to the upper floor labs. It takes less then a minute to climb the 20 levels necessary and Darcy considers taking another few moments to get caffeinated but decides against it, she needed sleep. No avoiding it today, already she was pushing forty-seven hours supplemented by a cat-nap or two.
Glass doors part when she puts in her clearance code and allows the panel to scan her thumb. The lab is eerily quiet considering the usual levels of chatter, music ad general sciencing that was the norm. Jane was set up in front of the dry erase board, slim fingers gripping a marker as she wrote at a languid speed. Banner lifts a finger before she can get any close and makes his way to the entrance.
"Not sure what triggered this one-no stars anywhere to speak of."
Frowning Darcy takes another long look at Jane before turning to Bruce who was very careful not to be within touching distance-he always took great care to avoid unsuspected touches after the last mishap. She wanted to reassure him her shields were up but that would mean acknowledging the whole thing happened which they had silently agreed never to bring up.
"What was she looking at, could an image on her desk top have triggered it?"
They spoke in hushed tones more out of respect then actual need, when Jane was mid-episode God himself could not bring her back-she should know after watching Thor try. Jane had rare gift, she was a Stargazer, the first be born since the connection between the Nether and Earth had been severed. The small woman would deny any such thing, she was a woman of Science, but when Thor had come down and the events of New Mexico came too be she couldn't deny it anymore. She was destined to be an Acolyte of Yggdrasil, a mender of worlds.
But Darcy knew her Janey would go kicking and screaming to her destiny.
Equations littered the board now, each in an impeccable hand writing which she knew was not Jane's own normal illegible scribble which she had spent the last three years deciphering. Abruptly the episode ends and Jane teethes forward and the younger woman barely has enough time to shoulder the scientist weight before she sags in exhaustion. Dropping her shields she allows her aura to expand to guage Jane's condition, she shined so bright-her connection to the Pulse a burning fire where in most people there were only embers, but soon it would die down once more. Bruce has taken up Jane's other arm and is helping to guide the half conscious woman to her desk.
Tony enters from the adjoined room, goggles pushed up over his messy hair, uncharacteristically quiet. He'd been working the Elements then, nothing got Tony as unsettled as tapping into the Pulse, he rarely did it when an invention could solve the issue. From what Darcy understand his mother had been an element weaver-and Alchemist-and the son had inherited both of his parents skill set.
"Forster doing her Memento thing again?"
"Started without a triggered and stopped without covering the board, first time I've seen that before."
Leaving Jane to slump against Banner the over tired and under paid (read: not enough for this shit) former intern digs through the drawers of the desk for the contraband sugary snacks the eggheads think she doesn't know about.
So smart, yet so naive her scientists.
Plucking out a pack of Devil Dogs from a freshly opened box she unwraps the treat and hands to Jane who wastes no time in digging in, tossing a pack at Stark who was making eyes at the box she wiggles another pair at Banner who declined with a shake of his head and a half smile.
Picking out a pair for herself she drags over a lab stool to perch herself inform of Jane, plastic wrap clenched in her teeth she extends her hands and placed them at Jane's temples and lets the pull and wane of the Pulse pull her in.
She was a novice Witch at best, her combat magic was shit—her potions had a sixty percent success rate when she was bragging—but in this she was nearly unmatched. It's what had gotten her into Culver in the first place. Her affinity to the Pulse was first class and she'd been tapped more then once to study as a Nurturer of fledgling magic users or a Negator to those deemed too dangerous to be allowed free reign.
But all of that was heavy, responsibility laden shit, and in the infamous words of—well of herself—fuck that noise.
Fuck it sideways.
Slowly she closes the door to Jane's mind to the Pulse, quelling the flames from her mind until it was under control again. Now while this wasn't strictly necessary, the power would fade eventually, without Darcy Jane's recovery time was a week. She'd been sickly as a child, a prodigy but frail of body and never known why till Thor had explained it.
This time she flashes to a winter night '-huddle under the covers with her mother, gazing up at the glow in the dark stickers she had bought cheap at the store she makes up constellation and gives them nonsense names-'
A good memory, warm with fond nostalgia.
"Thanks Darce."
"No problemo Boss Lady, but this means I expect breakfast at the greasy diner on 43rd."
Letting a out a bit of forced air she no doubt meant as a laugh Jane nods and rises from the chair, looking to Banner and Stark to see if they were joining in.
Romania, 2016
"Cap, I've got eyes on target—I have a clean shot, orders?"
Sam Wilson laid in the underbrush, carefully down wind from the target. After months of searching and near misses he finally had a clean shot in his scope.
The com is silent for a heartbeat or two before Steve replies in clipped tones of forced calm "Take him down, we only get one shot but once he's down shoot again. We don't know how much his body chemistry will fight the tranqs."
"Rodger, Cap."
Finger on the trigger Sam draws in a long inhale, holds it as he lines up the hairs of his scope. A breeze comes over him and he freezes, his scent will be carried up wind—just when the target turns in his direction he exhales sharply and takes the shot.
"Target is neutralized."
"Moving in for extraction."
Silence but the crunching of combat boots on snow comes through the com until a faint murmer of 'I'm taking you home, Buck.' drifts through the line 'it's my turn to take care of you.'
A promise made.