Disclaimer: I do not own Thor nor the Avengers.
Author's Note: Complies with Thor and directly after The Avenger's. It will be as canon as it can get. I really love Darcy and Loki. It's a crack ship that's not actually a crack ship because the writers are just too blind to see how amazing they would be together. Kat Dennings is my spirit animal and more importantly, Tom Hiddleston is my god. That is all.
Midgard
If a person could describe a childhood with a word, assuming said person even wanted to condemn a childhood to a single, meaningless word, Darcy's would be lonely.
With purple and pink skies melting into one, but never really touching, she would stare at them until the world decided to stop spinning.
She was never a needy child, capable of being dependent, but that trait just didn't look right on her. Darcy compares it to the new trend of maxi dresses she finds women wearing everywhere. Just because it looks right on some people, doesn't mean it won't make you look shorter and frumpier than you were before.
Maybe that was why her mother never truly knew what shade were her eyes or why she had thought that self-pregnancy existed until the ripe age of 15. Nobody in town had the gall to judge her for that, since there were perks on having more than man that could be your father.
So she lived through the potty training, and the puberty. Darcy even got a prom date and made out in the bleachers. Darcy felt her first heartbreak when Gregory Pace takes her virginity with a kiss and promise (with perhaps an excess amount of alcohol), and felt real love when golden boy Michael Kane shows up the next day with a black eye, Greg's two front teeth, and a suspension slip waving in the wind like the flag she never pledged her allegiance to.
It was fun and hilarious and everything a slightly less than normal girl could wish for.
Lonely however, was always a recurring theme within the daily events of her life.
She goes under the radar somehow and manages to weasel into a respectable college as a result of many tardy slips that chained her to not only the library, but a lifetime reliance on glasses.
Darcy never would've thought that she would be grateful for being drunk after the whole Greg incident, until the day she becomes friends with Jane Foster, point being that she never would've signed up for an internship that listed the "exciting" town of Puente Antiguo as a perk.
Jane is petite, geeky, and bossy. Frankly, she's reminded of a slightly less bushier and less likable version of Hermione Granger.
However, she's determined, driven, and passionate and fills up all the holes within Darcy's lazy, lackadaisical twenty-one year old self.
Neither Jane nor her know whether it was because of that aspect in their relationship or that being metaphorically stranded in a town, that's in a desert, that's in the most unknown state of the United States, that made them such a pair.
Darcy remembers the exact moment when Thor comes down all god-like and Jane rams him with the van. Yes, Jane, because it was legally her fault. She was about to disobey orders and turn on the radio when a thunderous crash tells her to ignite the engine and button down the hatches before Jane even has the words "Go!" in her trachea.
It's a whirlwind of confusion, pop tarts, and really good breakfasts that gets Darcy feeling alive. She badgers Thor for tales of Asgard and he enthusiastically accepts. Of course, Darcy eyes Jane at the corner, giving one of her famous withering stares, but she knows the workaholic astrophysicist is just as fascinated as she is. Maybe even more enamored than her if you count her growing fondness for the Norse god drinking his fifth cup of expresso.
When his band of merry men, plus a woman that she already feels dislike for, come with news from Asgard, Darcy mentally says goodbye to halcyon days. To think, letting go of her iPod was bad enough.
The destruction is terrible and far worse than she actually thought. Businesses were wrecked, and people traumatized. The local hospital reception knows her by name, as well as the patients there. Darcy feels as if it's therapeutic on how she's helping people to pick up the pieces. She surmises that it helps her keep her mind off on her own pieces.
Thor doesn't return, and she feels betrayed for some reason. It wasn't her that the promise was directed to, but why did she feel like someone tried to dig out her heart with a spoon.
She's absolutely, positively, certain she feels nothing more but blatant affection and endearment towards the god-alien-other worldly being, so why did she feel that sharp tightening in her chest when Jane sadly says to the sky that he wasn't coming back.
Of course, Jane being Jane, is all that more propelled and galvanized by this and Darcy has no time to sit and reflect because she's up and weaving eight daily coffee runs per day and carrying dirt samples by night. She is thankful for Jane because that lethargic feeling is staved off longer and Darcy feels purpose surging through her toes to the roots of her hair.
Some months later, just when her internship is about to expire and the dull loom of college is overhead, there is a huge fiasco involving some crazed, costumed "terrorist". That's what they say on the news and everyone's too crazed and too belligerent to think anything else.
Of course, Jane conveniently acquires an opportunity of some extraordinary rarity that sends her and Darcy off to some distant place filled with hidden cameras and camouflaged beings hidden within the rose bush outside of the compound. A person would think that an intern wouldn't have to go, but it's SHIELD and their "Men in Black" motto of, 'Thoust shalst neverest leakest intelligence..est".
Darcy tries relaying that to the security guard outside her bedroom at night. She squirms under his glare and finds that her blanket is much more better company.
After about two weeks of mind-numbing numbers and a busy Jane, Darcy is slapped on the shoulder by the latter and spills her sparkling water all over her only white-collared office shirt. She faintly hears Jane bubble with delight on how Thor is back and how she had, without a doubt spotted Mjolnir flying in the background of CNN's very limited footage of the destruction in New York.
Like a much too dramatic movie, this is the exact moment where Thor decides to pop in. Bathed in sweat, and the fragrance that only ruined New York skyscrapers give off, he sweeps Jane off her feet and swings her around more than a few times.
Trying not to kill their moment of reunion, Darcy choppily tries to dodge Jane's heavy duty rain boot of death and... fails. She's promptly mowed down to the shiny linoleum floor of the cafeteria and ends up in a cloddish, unwomanly heap of limbs.
When at last her toes seem to feel like they've ceased to touch her ear, Darcy flips and puffs her hair out of the way, just to be able to see the sharp, emaciated profile of the man-god-immortal, that had just blown up her favorite donut shop in New York City, sitting erect and cross-legged on the floor. He had his entire focus upon the happy couple, silently watching as the metal muzzle clamping his mouth reflected the lights. To call his gaze a glare, would be a lie.
It was piercing, calculating.
It made Darcy sick to her core.
Author's Notes: Please, please, PLEASE review. I really value constructive criticism and this is my first time writing anything Marvel! Tell me I'm doing it right or wrong. Do not favorite without a review if you want to see more. They give me motivation, which I lack.