I remember how it felt sitting by the water and every time I look at you, it's like the first time.
Wind blew in off the lake, tugging at Darcy's black dress as she padded barefoot towards the water's edge. Her shoes and glasses sat discarded against a tree she'd passed several yards back. The chill from the ground began to seep up her calves but Darcy barely felt the winter cold. Most of her body was numb apart from the nagging itch beneath the plaster cast encasing her left arm and the tightness that never left her chest.
The cool blades of grass that crunched beneath her toes gave way to sand and the coarse grain of wood as Darcy walked onto the small jetty that extended over the black water. This was a pretty spot in summertime. Kids would jump off the pontoon bobbing in the lake. Droves of teenagers would drop towels on the ground to sunbathe and chatter about nothing. But today, there wasn't another soul in sight.
Darcy knew it was only a matter of time until this temporary respite would be interrupted. They'd all be looking for her. But it didn't matter. She needed these few moments alone.
Tall posts jutted up from the corners of the jetty and Darcy hung onto one, letting her body dangle over the water's surface. The lake was dark and its contents hidden from view. Chipped paint flaked beneath her hand and Darcy wondered how easy it would be to slip. How easy to fall in and have the icy depth leech everything into nothing.
The thought was shoved away before it could take hold. This was grief. Not... that. Darcy levered herself upright before taking a seat on the jetty's edge, legs drawn up to her chest and arms folded awkwardly over her knees. She focused on the gray horizon as she tried to breathe. She searched for a glimmer of peace amidst the guilt that simmered beneath the numbness.
But even here, away from everyone, it was too much. Darcy buried her face into her knees, eyes squeezed shut. The wind continued to blow over her skin, tugging at her hair and clothes. The tiny waves pulsing over the lake broke in time to the words echoing around her head. One phrase, one reality, swum closer to the surface. It's your fault.
Darcy clamped her palms over her ears, ignoring the scratch of plaster against one lobe, desperate to block out the noise. To block out everything until it all stopped.
She stayed hunched in a tight little ball, ignorant of how many seconds, or hours, that passed until a familiar caress of fingertips stroked behind her neck.
"Hiding out here?" Clint sounded amused.
Darcy kept her head buried, refusing to acknowledge him. But the pounding in her brain began subsiding. Just one sentence from him and she could breathe again.
He chuckled and it was as if the world was coming back into focus. "You really think if you ignore me, I'll go away?"
"No. Yes. Maybe." She knew she sounded petulant, even as she mumbled into her knees.
There came another laugh while Clint pulled her windblown hair aside and the kiss he dropped on the back of her neck was soft. "Whoever they put on your security detail are about to be FUBARed by Coulson for losing you."
That seemed kind of appropriate. Coulson was responsible for them meeting, after all. It had been a little over a year since that eventual day. Thor had disappeared with Jane to Asgard and SHIELD had arrived in London before the last particles of sparkling light had finished falling from the portal. Naturally, Coulson and co. been quite firm about Darcy coming in to explain what the hell had just happened. Thor's name had barely passed her lips before Clint was summoned to join the debrief. Avenger related problem; Avenger response team.
SHIELD had tried to dismiss her after she'd imparted every last detail of the Dark Elves' attack. Emphasis on tried. When she'd hacked their mainframe, again, Coulson's buddy Agent Ward had nearly blown a gasket. Clint had found it amusing, though he never quite let Darcy out of his sight after that.
Funny how that had played out.
Thigh pressed into thigh and an arm curled behind her neck as Clint took a seat beside her. The heavy weight on her shoulders was reassuring. It grounded her. "Not leaving until you at least look at me Darce."
There was a small segment of her brain that said not to do this. That she had to ride out the pain alone. But rational thought got dismissed as his warmth began to spread over her chilled limbs and Darcy slowly raised her head.
Clint was totally cheating. He was wearing her favourite long sleeved tee; the gray one he wore pushed up over his forearms and with a snug enough fit that it left her distracted any time Clint moved a muscle. No arrows or SHIELD gear in sight. It was very much Clint beside her, not Agent Barton or Hawkeye.
Moments passed as Darcy stared at Clint. He waited patiently, a slight squint to his eyes against the weak winter sun trickling over them. She lowered her legs to stall for time. It was hard to know where to begin. There was so much Darcy wanted to say. "You shouldn't be here." Great start.
"It's been a crazy couple of weeks Darce. And I know you need time to heal. From everything." Clint tapped her cast for emphasis before his arm slid to her waist, fingers wrapping around her hip with an affectionate squeeze. "But I get to bend the rules on occasion. And besides, it's my holiday home you've decided to take up residence in."
"So sue me. I was feeling nostalgic for all that crazy bearskin rug sex we did last December." It came back so easily. But their levels of snark and sass and occasional dark humour had always been a binding agent between them.
Was it was too soon for levity? For these easy comments about sleeping together and recounting the memories they'd built, kiss by stolen kiss?
Or maybe she was allowed this tiny break from every painful thought that had consumed her since the battle with Ultron.
Darcy rested her head against Clint's chest. His shirt smelt of fabric softener and that strange blend of aftershave and sweat and soap that always lingered in his clothes. "Remember our first time out here?" he asked. "Before we came back and exchanged orgasms as Christmas presents."
Like she'd ever forget. It had been the Fourth of July celebrations. They'd been swallowed up in the swirling mass of holiday makers gathered in the tiny resort town. No one was looking for Hawkeye or any Avenger amongst the crowds of revellers. Clint and Darcy had been able to spend an easy couple of days as two normal people who ate overcooked hotdogs with ridiculous amounts of mustard while watching fireworks explode above them.
Darcy had realised that night she was totally, utterly in love with Clint.
"It's only a few months until the summer season starts," she mused. "Maybe I could stay here until then."
Clint hugged her tight before pressing his lips to her temple. "This isn't you, Darcy," he murmured against her hair and the peace began to crumble. "You don't run. You don't hide."
Enveloped in his arms, Darcy's heart shattered. "This isn't you either Clint," Darcy said as her voice cracked and tears began to stream down her face. "Because you're dead. You died because of me and I am so, so sorry..."
The team had trusted her to upload the virus to take down Ultron's sentinels. But it had gone so terribly wrong.
A playlist of their final words had been repeating on an endless loop, set against the backing track of battles and explosions and the world falling apart.
"Babe, you need to haul ass to the shelter. Ultron's two clicks out and he's going to finish taking down the tower."
"I've still got one good arm. I can fix the upload. I can do this. I just need more time."
"We're out of time. Do me a favour would you? Tell Widow I'm sorry I knocked her out. But she'd have wanted to come on this Hail Mary ride with me."
"Clint..."
"Love you Darce."
"Love you too..."
Then came the pain as Ultron hit the tower and the ceiling finally collapsed. But nothing hurt as much as the moment when it was Steve and not Clint who pulled her from the rubble.
That was when hope was lost.
"Sshh, Babe, sshh." He cupped her face and brushed the tears away. "Look, you've killed me dozens of times. The cute look when you scrunch your nose up? That kills me. That thing you do with your tongue?" He paused before an overdramatic sigh. "That kills me too."
"You think that's funny? Really?" The small smile that tugged on her mouth felt wrong. But Darcy should have known he would turn his own death into a joke. Clinton Barton, folks.
Thumbs still caressing her cheeks, his expression turned serious. "Things go bad on missions. Nobody's fault. You got that?"
There was sadness in his eyes and a firmness to his touch that pressed on her until Darcy nodded in acknowledgment. One hand lowered from her face to her lap and she interlaced her unbroken fingers with his. He was so warm. So real.
"You know you saved the world, right?" She needed to make sure Clint understood that he'd succeeded in breaching Ultron's shields. Everything would have been lost if Hawkeye hadn't made the sacrifice play.
Clint's fingertips stroked the back of her hand. "Darce. I'm happy the world is still spinning like it should be." There was a sense of pride to his words and she squeezed his hand. "But I've risked my life for years to save complete strangers. If I had to go out, I'm glad it was done saving you."
There was nothing else to say. As Darcy's face tilted up, Clint's mouth met her. The faintest tang of salty tears remained as their lips moved together in one long, gentle kiss. His touch was so feather light that Darcy's eyelids fluttered shut, desperate to feel every subtle movement while it lasted. There was tiniest tug of his lips before the cool winter air hit her skin, filling the space Clint had left behind.
A heavy thud of boots made the wood beneath her shake. "I knew this was a bad idea," Jane raged as she stalked down the jetty. "Someone else could have sorted out Clint's..." and Jane didn't hesitate on the name, like so many others, "... secret cabin in the woods."
"It wasn't a secret," Darcy replied as she eased her eyes open. Jane took her by the hand and helped haul her upright.
A vibration came from Jane's pocket before she answered the phone with a snap. "Yes, I found her. At the lake. Again. You can call off the cavalry." Darcy heard the start of a reply but Jane disconnected the call.
She should apologise to her friend. Jane was worried about her. So were Thor and the others. Darcy had heard the whispers. "We should be getting back," she said instead with a nod towards the path. "There's still a lot of packing to do."
The distraction technique failed to work on Jane. She turned her full attention on Darcy and grasped her by the shoulders. "I know the doctors said it was only a mild brain injury. But Darcy, that was a lot of concrete they found you under. It's been nearly two weeks and you're still... I'm taking you to the city for another MRI."
Darcy said nothing and after a long, penetrating stare Jane let the subject rest. But that evening, while Jane slept on the couch and the SHIELD agents manned their posts on the porch, Darcy slid from Clint's bed and rummaged through their gear until she located Jane's notebook tucked inside one boot. Among the sketches Thor had left of the nine realms, there were new notes. Darcy located the page titled 'Psychotic Disorders Due to Traumatic Brain Injury' and a list of the papers Jane had read on the subject. The word 'hallucinations' was underlined several times.
Shoving the book back into the bags, Darcy climbed beneath the blankets once more. Clint's gray shirt hung over the headboard and Darcy reached up to stroke his sleeve as she sucked her lower lip between her teeth. The taste of Clint was still lingered from their kiss.
And she wasn't ready to forget how it felt.