Author's Note: I was totally Darcy's flatmate. :'D
With exams before winter break, Darcy sacrificed sleep.
There goes her immune system, it doesn't help that it's flu season as well.
Jane took it upon herself to take care of her, Dr. Selvig making occasional visits, bringing food and cold medicine.
Oh! And a long fatherly sermon about watching your health and something about those grades better be worth it.
"Normal people don't just live on oatmeal bars and coffee, Darce." Jane sighs, blotting the face towel across Darcy's forehead.
"Well normal people don't just have thunder gods for boyfriends." Darcy gives a nasally laugh.
Jane smiles down at her, happy to see her intern was still the same despite being so sick.
Few days later, Darcy was regaining her strength, calling S.H.I.E.L.D. prompting her return.
Darcy would thank and apologize many times, promising Jane and Dr. Selvig that'd she'd make it up to them somehow.
She was feeling much better now, bidding the two scientists good night before locking the door to her apartment.
Tugging the snuggie Jane brought cozily around her, she lays on the couch and turns on the television.
She sniffs, shifting to her side and turns to the Discovery Channel. Ooh, Dirty Jobs.
"You could have called for me." A voice seeps in, source not quite so unknown.
Darcy sniffs again, lowering the volume. She turns her head towards an empty arm chair to the left of the couch, a body materializing on it.
He's reclining comfortably, an arm on either side, legs stretched out. He was, perhaps, too tall for that arm chair.
"I could have healed you from the beginning," he resumes.
"Oh relax, I'm not dying."
He doesn't say anything else after that.
She wakes up the next day in her bed, tucked in.
Bed? Tucked in?
She distinctly remembered falling asleep on the couch being lulled to sleep by infomercials.
Then she remembers.
Cold hands.
The faint smell of forests in the winter.
