They kept their vigil alone for what felt like an age, before people started trickling in. Pepper was first, sitting quietly next to Natasha. Not a word was said. Tony and Bruce came after her. Bruce wanted to make sure Darcy wasn't hurt, but she shook him off. Steve joined them soon after, and she ignored him so she wouldn't have to deal with the shame she felt over yelling at him.

Jane never came, and Darcy understood why when she overheard that Thor had taken Loki back to Asgard. He was gone, and wouldn't be back until Jane could fix the Rainbow Bridge.

Finally, hours later, a doctor came back to speak to them. Natasha was Clint's emergency contact and had control over his medical decisions.

Clint had sustained internal injuries from his beating, and the hits to his head had swollen his brain. They'd patched up some internal bleeding in his abdomen, and they were going to observe him carefully to see if they needed to do surgery on his brain. He was in recovery right now, heavily sedated. Natasha did that scary thing with her voice, and Darcy was allowed to sit with him.

It was awful, seeing him like this. Hooked up to monitors and IVs. So pale. Darcy pulled the chair up next to his bed and carefully took his hand in hers, holding as tight as she dared as she kept her eyes on his still face.

Natasha came in, after a few hours, with warm clothes. Darcy was reluctant to leave him, but Natasha pushed her and she went to change in the restroom. When she came back, Natasha examined her right arm, hissing through her teeth when she saw it.

"I threw something at him." Darcy said dully. "It'll be fine." Natasha didn't push, and left her alone with Clint again.

Bruce came in a few hours after that with a bag of take out. Darcy refused to eat, and Bruce left the food on a table as he probed at her arm. He wanted to at least give her painkillers, and she refused. She sat awake the whole night, watching Clint's face and chest and monitors for any sign of change.

Natasha came back in the morning and sat down with Darcy.

"Either you eat or I let Banner sedate you." Darcy flinched away from her, but took the muffin that was thrust under her nose. It tasted and felt like sawdust, but she choked it down.

"You're punishing yourself." Natasha observed. Tendrils of grief started to squeeze the numb state she'd put herself in.

"Loki hurt him to make me hurt." Darcy affirmed. A hysterical sob bubbled up her throat. "And I distracted him." Natasha didn't say anything to that. "I knew he was watching so I gave him a little show before the shower. And they snuck up on him. It was so, so stupid." Natasha took a deep breath, and Darcy remembered that she'd promised to hurt Darcy if Clint got hurt.

"You didn't distract him." Natasha finally said. "Loki dropped them right on top of him. Clint didn't miss them coming through the door because of you." Darcy folded over and put her head down on the bed.

"Clint wouldn't have let that get in the way of his job anyway." Natasha continued. "His job was your safety, and he took it very, very seriously. It's entirely Loki's fault he got hurt." For the first time since seeing Clint fall, about 14 hours before, Darcy finally let herself cry. Natasha didn't rub her back, or shush her – that's not the kind of friend she was – but she let Darcy sob herself silly, and didn't leave until Darcy was done.

A blanket was settled over her shoulders when she woke up an hour later, and she tugged it close around her herself before she took Clint's hand again. The doctors came and ran their tests, reporting that the swelling was on the way down, and at this point in time it didn't look like they'd have to operate.

Tony came later to check on her, grimacing when he saw her. He couldn't persuade her to leave long enough to take a shower, and finally left looking very troubled. Bruce came by at dinnertime and Darcy appeased him by eating a few bites. She made him leave when he asked for an x-ray of her wrist though.

She spent another long, miserable night sitting by Clint's bed, listening to the monitors beep and watching his face.

The next morning, the doctors announced that they would bring him out of sedation and fiddled with his IVs. The relief she felt when his eyes flickered open was such a solid thing it nearly knocked her to the ground. He passed the doctors initial tests before falling right back to sleep. They told her to hit the call button if he woke up again, and she promised that she would.

He did wake up again that afternoon, even enough to speak to the doctors, who declared him miraculously clear of permanent brain damage. Darcy cried again after he fell asleep, and this time they were happy tears.

When he woke up that evening, Darcy patted the back of his hand to get his attention.

"Clint. Clint." She repeated, and when he focused on her he gave her a great, drug addled, enormous grin.

"Darcy." His voice was dazed, and music to her ears.

"Clint, I have something to tell you." She whispered, scooting up to fold her arms next to his head and prop her chin on her hands.

"Yeah?"

"I want you." She said proudly.

His grin somehow broadened and he reached out for her. "Babe, I want you too. What's your plan of action? I'm game for anything." He started tugging at her shoulder, trying to pull her all the way onto the bed. Darcy laughed and grabbed his hand.

"No, no, not like that." His face fell, and feeling a little guilty, she reached out to stroke his cheek.

"Wait, I mean, I do want you like that, but not right now. I don't think you could even…" She glanced down at his lap.

"I could always 'even'." Clint said indignantly. Darcy looked back up to his face with a smile.

"I'm sure you can." She soothed. "But I meant, I want you like I wanted the Olympics." His mouth formed an exaggerated 'O' of understanding, though she didn't believe he really did comprehend, with all the drugs in his system. "I want you more than I wanted the Olympics. I've made an art of not wanting anything, or caring too deeply about anything for a decade Clint. And then here you are. With me. And before I even knew what I was doing, I wanted you."

He started to smile again, and reached up to cup her cheek.

"I think." He slurred, the drugs starting to pull him under again. "I think I've loved you since New Mexico. Saw you sassin' Coulson, got right up in his face like you weren't scared a' him. S'the hottest thing I ever saw."

Darcy leaned over and kissed his forehead, and when she pulled back he was asleep again, a cute little smile on his lips.

Tony had a bed delivered that night that was big enough for the two of them that night, and the nurses swapped Clint and his equipment over to it quicker than Darcy would have thought possible. It was wonderful to lie down next to him. She laid down facing him and folded her legs up in front of herself. His hand found her knee and that little bit of contact was all she needed to finally drop off to sleep.