AN: I'm trying out a different style of writing here. Let me know what you think!
EDIT 3/30: Turns out there's more to this story. Yay!
Disclaimer: I'm not the genius behind Marvel, nor the master behind the Dresden Files.
The problem wasn't that Darcy's father was a wizard; it's that her mother wasn't.
Like most kids, Darcy had been raised on stories of magic and monsters. However, the heroes in her bedtime stories weren't handsome princes or cunning princesses; they were her dad and his fellow Wardens.
Darcy had grown up knowing that her dad had the best job in the world: he was the wizard police, and she wanted to be just like him when she grew up.
Puberty slunk in, but brought no sign of anything magical about Darcy Lewis, and so her dad packed up and left.
Years later, she would look back and realize that he had done what he thought best for their family, but now she was fourteen and for the first time ever her dad wasn't there to tell her about how Commander Luccio (her hero) had led them to victory against the vampiric hordes.
So Darcy put the magic and monsters away, drowning them out with music and technology.
(She didn't miss the relief that loosened her mother's shoulders when he left.)
The next time she sees him, he needs her because magic doesn't run through her veins. Technology and magic don't mix, although the Wardens are worried because someone - a Dr. Jane Foster - has managed to track down the entrance of a Way leading to Asgard - using science.
Darcy never learned much about the far-off Asgardians, preferring to focus on the more present danger of the Red Court vampires. Her Taser may not have been able to kill one of those monsters, but even they dropped when hit with that much electricity, and then it was just a simple matter of cutting open their stomach pouches. Darcy had only done so once, and she never wanted to do so again. Her knitting needles would never be the same.
Darcy was still too much her father's daughter to ever be comfortable with science, so she nearly says no. But she's still her father's daughter, even after he left, and so she says yes.
And anyways, she needs those science credits to graduate. Really, he's doing her a favor.
Jane Foster is made up of science and stars.
People have sometimes said that Darcy has her head in the clouds, but Jane doesn't even see the clouds because her eyes are always seeking out the secrets of the universe from among the stars.
In return, Darcy keeps her feet on the ground and makes sure that Jane can keep chasing after her stars with a steady supply of Pop Tarts and coffee.
Darcy is needed (and it feels great).
The hot hobo that staggered out from the Way, shouting for a hammer was a shock, although maybe tasing him was a little bit of an overreaction.
Finding out that the hot hobo was actually the Norse god Thor was even more of a shock.
When the Jackbooted Thugs showed up to steal Jane's science Darcy grumbled about her lost ipod, but her heart wasn't in it.
She would have to report Thor's appearance to the proper authorities, and, no matter how shiny SHIELD's badges were, they weren't the real authorities. The White Council needed to know.
And yet, Darcy felt reluctant to betray Jane.
Sometimes Darcy wonders if Erik was like her, the mortal child of a wizard, abandoned for the crime of not having magic, what with the way he knew about the ancient myths.
Then she remembers that he chose to study the stars and is almost sure of it.
In the end, it didn't matter.
Thor's insane brother almost completely destroyed the town before she could work up the nerve to call in the Wardens, and then he was gone.
Two days later, while Jane was still hoping that Thor would come back for her, Darcy made the call.
A younger, Hispanic Warden who introduced himself as Carlos Ramirez showed up to inspect the Bifrost, jotted down a few notes - in crayon, strangely enough - and left a few hours later.
Darcy didn't tell Jane.
Instead, she went out into the desert, walking until the RV is the size of a shoebox, and sank to her knees, fisting her hands in the dry sand.
A wave of anger at Thor, her father, her circumstances, and life in general, swept over her. She choked on the sobs that try to claw their way out of her throat and forced herself to relax before she got swept under.
She let go of the sand, hissing when her palms scraped against something sharp and jagged.
What had once been two fistfuls of sand had somehow melted into glass.
Darcy sat back on her heels, stunned for what felt like the millionth time in a week.
She had done the impossible; she had done magic.
AN: Carlos' crayon is from a great fic on ao3 called Love Is All You Need To Destroy Your Enemies, by shadydave. It has the best Carlos characterization that I've ever read. The idea doesn't belong to me.