Whispers on the Wind

Chapter One

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Marvel franchise. I do not own any of the characters depicted apart from my own original characters, nor do I share any of the beliefs the characters in this story express. I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story.


In the end, they tell her it was the praying that saved her. Darcy didn't know how long she'd been held for, but with every bolt of electricity they shot into her, every needle, she'd pray to the only God she believed in.

Thor.


Darcy hated closed doors, that was true. But what she really hated was not knowing something. That's the real reason she changed majors three times. Not because she was flighty or unmotivated, but she just really, really liked knowing things. One foster parent had mentioned curiosity would one day get her into more trouble than she could get herself out of with wit alone. But at nine of course she wasn't going to listen then, and was even less likely to listen now at twenty-three.

Not even a week settled into the new top secret Shield facility Jane Foster and one Darcy Lewis (glorified babysitter extraordinaire) had been recently, forcibly, relocated to, Darcy's skin was practically crawling. There was something not right. Not dangerous per say, and she definitely knew what that particular instinct felt like in recent years, but something was wrong.

The goon squad said not to leave their wing of the facility. And that was just too suspicious for her curiosity to leave alone.

So one day once Darcy was satisfied Jane had been fed and watered, and was currently off in the wonderland that was SCIENCE, Darcy barricaded the lab doors so she was confident no one would get to Jane without Darcy's explicit say so, Darcy was shimmering her way through the air vents.

Jane had been steadily falling apart without her soul-bond. The God whose first words ever said to Jane were stamped dramatically on Jane's slender neck. Darcy had been trying every trick she knew, but Jane was disappearing deeper than usual into her head. Darcy's snark and mother hen tendencies kept her absentminded foster sister alive and breathing, but only just. Without Thor, Darcy wasn't enough to keep her tethered to the real world.

A whisper of sadness in Darcy's mind as she thought of Jane's heartbroken pining and Darcy rubbed her chest absentmindedly. When Darcy found the person who spoke her own beautifully possessive words- Ours, you're ours- she was never letting her soul-bond out of her sight.

She stilled as footsteps below her echoed in the quiet corridors before continuing as she tried to untangle her thoughts. There was a rising tide of something else taking the sad whispers place. Darcy wasn't a mutant. But her instincts were never wrong; and she always trusted them inexplicitly. She always knew which foster parent to hide from in fear with a knife in her hand, knew that it was time to apply to university, and something inside her had whispered with a righteous yes the moment she meet Jane.

So as something was urging her forward, she followed. Darcy looked through each vent she came past, and freezes when agents and scientists passed her in the hall unware that someone was above them.

Darcy almost over looked one corridor. There was only one vent, and she didn't think she could turn around in such a small space, but the whisper tugged her forward, and she knew this was what she'd been sent up into the duct work to find.

Looking through the vent she couldn't see anything but white sterile walls. But there was a constant slow beeping that sounded familiar. Carefully she lifted the grate, wincing a little when it caught and made a small noise of distressed metal on metal. Carefully putting it aside she shimmied down, letting out a soft yelp when she landed jarringly on her feet and promptly fell over. Scowling at the hard concrete floor she looked up, and fisted her hands white knuckled into her baggy knit sweater in fear. "Holy shit" she whispered lowly, quickly scrambling to her feet and to the side of one Agent Coulson, currently unconscious and alarmingly pale.

She checked his pulse even though there was a machine already loudly doing just that, and her hands fluttered uselessly over him in alarm. She tried waking him with words getting increasingly higher pitched before she abruptly remembered she wasn't supposed to be here. Darcy took a couple of deep breaths, smoothing out the blanket atop him in an effort to calm herself.

"Okay. Okay I can do this. Everything will be okay. You're alive. That there's something badass enough to do this to Coulson is a surprise. But you're alive" Darcy rambled under her breath, feeling his clammy cheeks and gritting her teeth in frustration at her own helplessness. Eyeing the clip board attached to the wall behind the bed wasn't helping either, especially since she didn't know what any of the terms or long winded words even meant.

"Jane! I'll get Jane. She probably knows some doctor jargon and we'll get you sorted Son of Coul. Don't worry. Now I've found you, you won't be alone" she glared around the room. No visitor chair, no photos, no window. Shield has a lot to answer for, the bastards. Even if Coulson was an iPod thief, menace to scientists and didn't smile, he didn't deserve to be shoved in a sterile room out of sight or mind. Darcy petted his hand fondly before pulling herself though the vent, determination settling into her gut.

He was one of hers now. Darcy didn't need the whispers to tell her that.