"So, how far are we?" asked Clint curiously as he turned his attention away from the window to where Darcy was driving.
Everyone had finally left the grocery about ten minutes prior, after corralling Thor and Tony back into the car. They'd finished their shopping and checked out, only to realize that Thor had disappeared some time between Tony entering the store and them herding him back outside. Darcy had found him quickly, luckily, and managed to lure him back outside with promises of cookies. Who knew the God of Thunder had such a sweet tooth?
"We're about five minutes away," replied Darcy, turning onto yet another back street. "You'll know it when we arrive."
Clint nodded, returning his attention to the passing scenery. They were in a surprisingly green area, with trees climbing all around them and small one or two story houses interspersed among the foliage. It looked like a nice neighborhood, though he hadn't actually seen anyone around. He could smell the water though, meaning they couldn't be far from the coast. "Where are we anyway?"
"Near the water," replied Darcy, turning onto yet another street. She slowed as they approached a lot surrounded in trees and a gate cutting across the driveway. Flipping on her blinker, she stopped the car just short of the gate and climbed out. "I'll be right back."
For a moment, Clint watched her head for the gate before focusing on the property in front of them. He couldn't see through the trees and bushes planted along what he realized was a fence line. It was hard to see because of the way the plants had grown almost over the fence. It was a slated bar fence, maybe six feet tall, and all black. Thorny bushes had climbed the bars, meaning a good hold would be difficult to achieve, and there was no way to survey the grounds before you were inside the fence. The only thing visible was the top of the roof of a house, at least from the angle he was at.
The sound of the car door opening and closing again drew his attention back to Darcy. Without a word, she put the car back in drive and turned into the now open gate. The ground rose slightly as they turned in, the driveway cutting about twenty feet through the property covered in more trees to a garage who's door opened as they approached. Darcy pulled her car into a space beside an identical cherry red mustang bearing a license plate with the name 'Lola'.
Just as Clint climbed out of the car, Jane pulled up behind them in the van. Thor came stumbling out before it had even stopped, looking more than a little disgruntled and sporting multiple braids. Across the car's roof, Clint heard Darcy snort slightly. All he needed were a few flowers, and Thor could retire from the God of Thunder to God of the Hippies.
Steve fell out of the van next, looking like someone had been ruffling his hair. Natasha was third, a scowl on her face and her eyes shifting rapidly. There were also several pieces of wadded up paper caught in her hair. Pepper was out next, looking less refined and more like she wanted to kill someone. Tony followed, rubbing the back of his head. There was a red mark on his cheek like someone had slapped him. Jane and Bruce appeared to be the only ones to escape unscathed, both climbing from the front seats and looking no worse for wear.
"Do I want to know what you guys were doing in there?" asked Darcy with a touch of a grin, wiggling her eyebrows slightly.
Jane just shook her head. "Don't ask, Darcy."
"That sounds like blackmail material to me," continued Darcy, her voice still teasing. "Will I have to separate all of you? Set up corners of the house?"
"Funny," mocked Tony. "Where is this house anyway? I couldn't see it when we drove up."
Darcy smirked, popping her car's trunk and fishing out a few of the shopping bags. "That's because you weren't looking. Dad and I camouflaged it."
"How do you camouflage a house?" asked Jane as she pulled her bag from the trunk of the van along with everyone else. Clint snagged both his and Darcy's bags before motioning for her to lead the way inside.
Rather than walking around the side of the garage though, she headed through the garage to a door inside. Clint followed curiously, assuming they were going to go into the house by the garage. Instead, they stepped outside into what looked like a courtyard.
The space was surrounded by rocks along the back, likely part of the original landscape, which gave way to the foundation of a house. A dark brown house with green trim which matched the trees and plants in the front yard. Oh. Camouflage. Got it.
There was a fire pit in the middle of the space and the rock had worn outcrops on it which suggested frequent use as either a seat or a bed. Or as hand holds for kids climbing to the top of the outcropping. There was something that looked like a pile of pillows at the top of the rock, so it was entirely possible people climbed along the surface frequently.
The rest of the the yard was bushes and a number of low-maintenance plants that were scattered along the edges to add some color. Most of them looked like they were currently dead for the season, but a few were showing signs of life. Including a row of roses planted along the back wall of the house.
Darcy paused beside the roses, her fingers brushing over a leaf sadly. She moved on a moment later, reaching for the knob on the back door and sliding a key in the lock. "Give me a minute to disarm the alarm before you come in."
Without another word, she slipped into the house. There wasn't any noise from inside for several minutes before a soft beep cut through the silence. A moment later, Darcy came back to the door and motioned for everyone to come inside.
The first thing Clint noticed as soon as they were inside was how open the main floor was. Very few walls separated the area, making it more like one large room than multiple smaller ones. Only one wall really separated anything and all it really did was block part of the living room from view if one was looking in from the kitchen door.
A fireplace rested against one of the side walls, large enough that it could function for cooking in a pinch. A couch was across from it, creating potential cover if it was necessary, but still allowing for a good line of sight. The rest of the furniture all rested against the walls except for the coffee table.
One large window sat against the wall perpendicular to the one holding the fireplace. The rest of the light came in from multiple skylights set into the ceiling. Five in all, set into a ceiling that had to rest above both the first and second stories of the house.
Three long stairs which covered the entire length of what had to pass for the main entry way led up from the slightly submerged living room space, transitioning into a kitchen. An island sat in the middle of the kitchen, all dark wood with a light marble top. A modern electric range was set into the counter, probably to make it impossible for someone to blow the house using gas. The sink rested in front of the only window in the kitchen, looking out over the courtyard space.
"This isn't what I was imagining when I though of Agent's home," remarked Tony from behind Clint. "I figured there'd be more, I don't know, spy stuff."
Darcy snorted. "Look around. The entire place is set up keeping lines of sight in mind along with cover points in cases of home invasion."
"She's right," agreed Clint, moving further into the house. A staircase became visible as he left the kitchen and came into the main living room area. Without much thought, he dropped both his bag and Darcy's near the front door. "I can see at least three major defensive positions in here and a few offensive ones too."
"There are six," corrected Natasha mildly. "Clint is right thought. The home is arranged to withstand assault, yet it looks very inconsequential. I approve."
Darcy shifted a little uncomfortably at Natasha's comment, jerking her thumb towards the back door in a clear need to escape. "I'm going to get the groceries. Just dump your bags in the hall. We can figure out sleeping arrangements in a few minutes." Then she was gone out the door.
Clint considered following her for half a moment but stopped himself. No matter how strong she pretended to be, Phil's death was still too raw for her. Which meant if she needed a moment, he would give it to her. Instead, he scanned the room from this new perspective of the front door to see if he could find the other three defensive positions Natasha had seen. Behind him, the rest of the group slowly moved into the house, the sound of multiple bags hitting the floor echoing through the large space.
The stair case he'd noticed before was carefully hidden on the back wall of the living room, inset in the back wall and running along the one dividing wall on the main floor. There was a half-wall at the top of the back wall, leaving a gap between the ceiling and the second floor wall that could be used to open fire from above on anyone who broke into the house.
"I wonder if Phil designed this house or if it was like this when he purchased it," remarked Natasha, her own eyes sweeping the space as she dropped her bag with Clint and Darcy's. "The set up is good for home defense and counter attacking."
"He had it built around the time he adopted me." Darcy's voice cut through the room from the kitchen as she came stumbling in with her arms laden with groceries. "We were living in an apartment that was SHIELD sanctioned, but didn't offer me a lot of breathing room. So, he had this place built and we'd come out here when he could get the time. He moved us out here permanently when I was fifteen."
Setting the bags on the island, she began shoving various food items into the cabinets and fridge. The cabinets themselves were as bare as Darcy had implied, though some staples such as pasta were visible as she filled the shelves.
Fishing one of the bottles of water out of the bag, Tony watched Darcy curiously. "So do you actually still live here?"
"In the summers Dad and I would come back," confirmed Darcy as she closed the last cabinet. "He lives- lived in the city while I was at college, then we came back out here in the summers."
"I don't get why," muttered Tony. "I mean, c'mon, this place is pretty nice."
Darcy shrugged weakly. It was obvious she was trying to be casual about it, but the whole affair was making her sad. "He said the house is empty without me. Plus, it was more convenient for him to stay in the city near headquarters than stay all the way out here with me." Gathering the bags from around the room, she roughly shoved them under the sink and moved back into the hallway. "Alright, so here's the deal with sleeping: We've got space down here, obviously, and we've got three bedrooms upstairs: mine, Dad's, and the one guest room Dad had built for reasons I can't understand because we never have guests except his parents who came out to visit a grand total of five times."
Jane nodded slowly, eying the large living room. "What were you planning to do, Darcy?"
"I figured we could either all crash down here or some of us could crash upstairs and some down here," replied Darcy, leaning against the wall beside the stairs. "Depends on what you want."
"I don't wanna sleep in the same room as Barton," pipped up Tony.
"Seriously Stark?" asked Steve in disbelief, though there was something in his eyes that told Clint that Steve was thinking the same thing. He couldn't blame them either. No one should want to stay in the same room as him after what he'd done. "Why would you say something like that?"
"Hey! I'd like to actually sleep through the night!" countered Tony. "I've seen the surveillance video. He walks around like a zombie in the middle of the night."
Clint blinked in surprise. Seriously? My nightmares are what he's worried about? Wasn't expecting that.
"He can sleep in my room," cut in Darcy with a roll of her eyes, bringing Clint out of his head.
Jane shot Darcy a concerned look. "Are you sure, Darcy?"
"I can sleep in the guest room with him," added Natasha. There was something in her tone though that belayed her unease with the idea.
Not that Clint could blame her; between his nightmares and him trying to kill her under Loki's control, her unease was understandable. Darcy was crazy for agreeing and he should say no, insist on sleeping alone. But something about the offer, the fact that she was willing to sleep in the same room with him despite his nightmares and his actions, made him not want to turn down her offer. She was basically his shrink at this point anyway; maybe she had a reason.
"I'm sure," assured Darcy with a shrug. "There's an air mattress in my room. Anyone else want some private time?"
"You don't need to let anyone sleep in your father's room, Darcy," assured Pepper gently. "And there is no reason to make Clint invade your room. I'm certain we can all sleep down here."
"Agreed," seconded Jane, though she looked a little less certain than Pepper did.
Darcy just rolled her eyes. "We've got three bedrooms upstairs. There's no point in no one using them. Clint and I can have my room, who wants the guest one?"
"We shall take it, if no one else shall," spoke up Thor, one of his hands landing gently on Jane's shoulder. "Unless another would care for it."
"Have at it, big guy," assured Tony with a shrug. "Pep and I call Agent's old room!"
The sharp wince Darcy couldn't suppress made Pepper slap the back of Tony's head. Hard. He looked at Pepper in confusion for a moment, before glancing at the way Darcy was attempting to discretely hide her face and wincing himself. It was pretty obvious he was beating himself up over it too.
"I mean, if you're alright with that, Darce," added Tony, his voice chastised.
Darcy shrugged, still not looking up at anyone. Instead, she walked to the pile of bags and grabbed both her's and Clint's. "Whatever you want to do. I'm gonna take these bags upstairs and grab the second air mattress. I'm guessing the rest of you are sleeping down here or splitting the spaces upstairs somehow."
"We'll sleep down here, Darcy," agreed Steve readily. "Though I agree with Pepper: we should all sleep down here. This is a bonding chance for us and sleeping in the same room is part of that!"
Clint shuffled a little uneasily. "I really don't think you want me down here with you."
"Clint?" Natasha's voice was worried, though her face was mostly blank except the eyebrow she raised expectantly.
"Nightmares, Tasha," supplied Clint with a shrug, finally finding a moment to voice his own concerns. He was the one who had to sleep where-ever after all, he should have a say. "Not sure I should share a room with anyone."
"You'll be fine with me," called Darcy, who was already halfway up the stairs. "It's not a problem. Tasha, if you want, you can sleep in my room too. We can make room."
Natasha looked contemplative for a moment, eyes focused on Darcy in a contemplative way that made Clint very nervous. It wasn't good for anyone when Natasha got that look in her eye. When she finally shook her head no, there was a slight smirk tilting up her lips that made Clint as uneasy as the appraising look. "No, I think I will sleep down here. Thank you for the offer, though."
Shrugging, Darcy made her way up the stairs and disappeared out of sight. She hadn't left the room for five seconds before Pepper started tearing into Tony for his insensitive comments. Clint just shook his head and headed for the stairs as well. Everyone except Tony and Pepper followed. As fun as watching Tony get his ass chewed out by his girlfriend/boss/former assistant could be, this wasn't one of the times that Clint wanted to watch. Partially because he wanted to punch Tony right now.
Reaching the top landing, Clint took in the bean-bags set up in front of a large screen television in the little loft-style room next to the stairway. One had Captain America's shield on it and the other was decorated with what looked like arrows. A large hallway opened off the room with four doors leading off it. Two sat on the left side of the hall and two on the right, with a final door at the end of the hallway. Clint approached the one open door, the last one on the right side of the hall, peering inside.
Darcy was standing in the middle of what must have been her bedroom, eyes covered by one of her hands and the other folded under her chest. The two bags she'd brought up were resting next to a bed covered in a pale blue comforter embroidered with a tree. A window seat with matching pillows sat in the middle of the back wall. The rest of the room was done in blond wood with the walls painted the color of the sky. A bookshelf nearly collapsing under the weight of it's load, a large chest at the foot of the bed, a nightstand, and a dresser were the only other pieces of furniture. There was a closet door against the wall opposite the bed, covered in slates rather than a solid piece of wood.
For a moment, the sight of the room brought back memories for Clint. He understood immediately why closet door was slated and he knew the space under the bed was completely clear. Her history was painted in the design of her room, regardless of how far behind her she said it was.
"Clint?"
Darcy's voice snapped Clint's attention back to her. "Sorry Darce. I just wanted to see if you needed any help and it felt wrong to watch Pepper chew out Tony's ass, no matter how much he deserved it."
"I'm fine," assured Darcy, though the fact that he could still see a few tears in her eyes told him she wasn't. "Where are the others?"
"Most of them are up here," replied Clint. "Pepper and Tony are the only ones downstairs.
Nodding, Darcy moved towards the entrance to her bedroom and ducked back into the hall. "Right. I need to just check in Dad's room, make sure there's nothing out that the others shouldn't see."
Raising an eyebrow, Clint followed Darcy into the hallway, catching Natasha's eye as Darcy went straight for her father's room. "Like what?"
"Embarrassing stuff," muttered Darcy. "I know it doesn't matter, but I just..."
"Can't stand the idea of Tony seeing something that Phil wouldn't want him to?" tried Clint. He couldn't say he really understood how she felt, but he was willing to try and understand a little better.
"Yeah," confirmed Darcy opening the second door on the left wall straight across from her own door and walking inside.
Clint followed, his eyes scanning the room curiously. What he found inside wasn't what he was expecting. He'd always assumed any bedroom belonging to Phil Coulson would be basic and bland, reflecting nothing of the man who slept there. What he's seeing is the exact opposite.
Classic car photographs hung on the walls beside a few old newspaper clippings about Steve from the war. A recreation of Steve's shield hung over a natural wood dresser covered in framed photographs. All the furniture in the room was made form the same wood excluding a brass floor lamp set up next to an arm chair in one corner of the room. Like Darcy's room, there was a bookshelf against one wall that looked like it was going to collapse under the pressure of it's contents. However, unlike Darcy's room, there was an antique-looking cassette player resting on top of it with a stack of tapes. A medal case hung over the top of the short bookshelf, several medals of honor resting inside. The bed in the middle of the room was covered in a black comforter, a blanket with tell-tale red, white, and blue coloring folded at the end. The only other notable thing in the room was a door that he guessed led to a bathroom.
Without much thought, Clint moved to the dresser and picked up the first of the photos resting there. Phil was standing in the photo, arms wrapped around a ten year old child in a blanket. Her face was smudged with dirt, her eyes hollow and empty. Shell-shocked. Phil was hugging her close, like he was determined to protect her from everything. He had a black eye and a split lip, but otherwise he seemed to be fairing far better than the child he was holding.
"I don't know why he kept that photo, it's not a good one of either of us." Clint almost jumped a little, surprised at how close Darcy had gotten to him. Her hand came around and plucked the photo from his hands, eyes examining the image critically. "He always acted like it was special somehow, but I don't see it."
"What's it from?" asked Clint, though he was pretty sure he knew. If it wasn't from the night Phil saved her, or some time in that period of time, he'd eat one of his arrows.
Darcy was silent for a moment, her eyes going distant like she was remembering something painful. "It's from the night they arrested the man who brainwashed me."
Nodding slowly, Clint allowed his eyes to scan some of the other photographs on the dresser. The rest of the photos were pretty normal. A picture of Darcy sitting on the hood of a rusted mustang that Clint guessed was the one she currently drove before she and Phil cleaned it up. Another photo of her and Phil at the beach. Darcy grinning and holding up a trophy in one hand, a soccer ball under her arm; Darcy at her high school graduation. A photographic record of Darcy's life, the good half of it. Proof of Phil's love for the frightened little girl he'd taken in and cared so much for. "He really was a good father, wasn't he?"
"He was the best father," confirmed Darcy, her voice tight. "The best father ever."
Looking over at Darcy, Clint felt his heart break. The photo she'd taken from him earlier was clutched to her chest, eyes closed as tears tumbled down her cheeks. He didn't think about it as he wrapped his arms around her and tucked her head beneath his chin, holding her as close as he could. For a moment, she stiffened and Clint thought she might actually pull away. Then one of her arms shifted to wrap around his waist and her fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt as she began to cry, her whole body shaking with each shuttering breath she took.
Clint just held her closer and murmured softly to her, his own tears stinging the corners of his eyes as he thought of the man he'd helped to kill. His friend, boss, and the father of the girl who was determined to help him even though it was his fault she no longer had a dad. What did I ever do to deserve being here? To even have her speak to me? She should hate me. He didn't move though, letting her cry into his shirt.
Behind them, he heard the softest of footsteps stop in the doorway, then the sound of the door shutting with the quietest of clicks. Silently, he thanked Tasha (because he knew it was Tasha without even seeing her) and focused on the woman in his arms. Twenty minutes later, he felt her slumping in his arms and knew she'd fallen asleep. Carefully, he scooped her into his arms and lay her on her father's bed, laying the blanket over the end of the bed (which does have the Captain America shield on it like he'd suspected) around her shoulders. For a moment, he paused to just stare at her. Even with a tear stained face, she is beautiful.
Damnit Barton, stop being a creeper! She's your former boss's daughter, a boss who you had a hand in killing! Show some respect! Shaking his head, he quickly ducked out of the room as silently as he could and headed downstairs.
Everyone was gathered in the kitchen when he reached the bottom of the stairs, their voices quiet as they hunched over the island with cups of coffee in hand. He waved as he entered, taking a sip from Natasha's cup as he passed. She glared at him like always but didn't maim him. She'd get him back by stealing from his coffee cup in the morning anyway. That's how it always worked, their one point of normalcy.
"How is she, Clint?" asked Pepper worriedly, his brow furrowing.
"And what the hell did you do to make her cry?" growled Jane, the small astrophysicist glaring daggers at him from over her own coffee cup.
Clint reflexively held up his hands, looking at her worriedly. " Hey, I didn't do anything! I swear! There was a photograph!"
"Jane," whispered Pepper quietly, drawing the scientist's attention. "We knew Darcy was coming here in part to grieve. I'm sure that's all that happened upstairs."
"It is," confirmed Clint quickly. "I swear, I didn't do anything! I mean, I wasn't just gonna leave her crying in the middle of her dad's room..."
"As you should not," agreed Thor, leveling his own gaze at Clint. "Our concern is with how she came to be in tears."
Staring at the others, Clint debated how much to say. He was guessing that photograph wasn't something she wanted everyone else to see. Hell, he was pretty sure she'd only let him see it because she'd forgotten it was there. Sighing, he reached for the coffee carafe and poured himself a cup. "Look, it was an old photo of her and Phil, alright? From around the time she first came to live with him. She hasn't really gotten time to grieve, so that's what she's doing. Well, what she was doing. Now, she's sleeping."
"She cried herself to sleep?" asked Jane, her expression going from potentially murderous to sad in a a quarter of a second. "Poor Darcy..."
Clint shrugged a little, looking down and sipping his coffee. "Phil was the first real dad she had. He's the only dad she probably acknowledges. This isn't gonna be easy for her."
"I wish we could help her," murmured Pepper, eyes rising to the stairs.
"We can," replied Clint, gripping his mug a little tighter. "We can give her space, offer her support, and just be aware of what we say and do." The last comment was directed at Tony, who winced and looked a little sheepish. "That's all we can do for her."
"Then that's what we'll do," agreed Pepper quietly, moving away from the counter. "Starting with dinner. What should we make?"