A/N: Hi. My name's Amare Deansgate, and I written this chapter over about sixty times. call me if you want the AU's to my AU, okay? No seriously, I'm very sorry about my tardiness, and I have no excuse. As an apology, I'm posting this today and the next (much longer) chapter Friday. Please enjoy.
Disclaimer: Nothing in the Marvel-verse belongs to me.
There is blood on the pillow. As crimson and violent as the act that caused it. Her belief that she would be free wasn't enough to finish the deed, however. There is a numbness that she's never felt before when she sees his eyes looking down at her.
When she is in the hospital later, they tell her she's lucky. The bullet grazed her skull and left a scar, but she would survive. She doesn't feel she's survived. She's been dead for a long time.
After a few weeks, she's moved to the psychiatric unit of the hospital. For the first week, she stood in the mirror looking at the healing wound on the side of her head. She thought she felt nothing at first. But soon she wakes up in the middle of the night screaming and crying. The nurses and doctors put her into an isolated room and sedate her countless times a week.
One morning, long after she thinks she'll be here forever, a nurse walks into her room with a bright smile.
"Darcy," she says. "I have some good news."
Darcy brings her eyes slowly up to the nurse.
"You'll be going home on Monday. Your doctor said that you'll be starting outpatient care soon."
The effort to smile is too much. She nods and turns back to look at the rain hit the window.
When the nurse leaves, Darcy curls her legs up to her chest. Her hair had grown over the scar, but she can still feel the long bump under her scalp.
The feeling overtakes her. She can leave now; start anew. Something akin to relief is swept through her. All she has to do is forget. Forget her past with him.
If only it were that easy.
...
It's almost three years pass after being released that Darcy is able to start her life again. She starts college,majoring in political science, and is no longer eager to please others. Even if she is unable to completely tune out of her nightmares, she smiles more and is able to see that she stays focused on school.
The past seems like another life altogether. And instead of making her bitter, it's made her better. She almost wants to thank him.
The wind blows fiercely against the curtains of the open window of her dorm room. It brings with it a scent of the autumnal spices of the dormitory's Halloween party. The room, almost an uncomfortable cold to most, felt claustrophobic and dense. She sits on the edge of her bed, fighting away the invisible monsters in her head.
She doesn't know where he is now. When she was still in the hospital, papers were sent to her. Legal papers telling her she was no longer married on grounds of insanity.
Here, though, no one knows of that ugly past. They know her as vivacious, featherbrained, and even downright childish. But never broken; never agonized.
It's funny, though, when one is left alone with the thoughts in their head that tells them the reality of their own world it feels a bit like home. Poison caught her heart long ago and mangled it until all she has is an empty cavity in her chest. It hurts everyday to think she once felt something as sweet and wrong as love.
Right now she can't find the energy to go to sleep. The room feels as though it lives and whispers with it's hot breath into her ear. It's his voice, when he was sweet and kind and gentle and lovely.
She feels her skin grow uncomfortable as though it weren't meant for her own body. Running her hand on her arm, she feels gooseflesh as if thousands of invisible tiny strings tried to pull her like a puppet.
She's knows she's still young. She was very young even when she met him. Just starting college on a scholarship, and not caring an ounce about where she might be headed. Then he came; his promises feather-light and his tongue like silver.
She feels everything and nothing for him. Like she can fall in love with him again and kill him in cold blood in the same instant. Her chest is on fire. She needs sleep. But there are more hours of wakeful turning to deal with before she is finally able to lay peacefully.
In the morning she walks into her first class of the day; playing the part of clueless student. She sits in the back even though it is her favorite course. When everyone is dismissed, her professor, Dr. Allen, calls her over.
She walks over to him, a small smile on her face as if to ask him what he wanted to talk about.
When her professor tells her about an opportunity to earn more credit hours outside of school, she jumps to apply as an assistant of the astrophysicist, Jane Foster.
A/N: Yes, thous is relatively short, but oh so much more to come. I need to blow your minds, now that I've committed myself to you all. Please Read, Review, or whatever ya do. (ha, I made a rhyme). I need to know what you think so I can know if I need to make changes, so this'll be a group effort, if you will. I love you all, even if you hate me.