Desperado by Rihanna
- from Darcy's iPod
xiv.
THEN.
Cap knocked Bucky out – Darcy heard this after they got back with Bucky in tow, no longer welcome in Washington, but neither could they keep him in the city, so they all moved upstate.
It turned out Tony had a secret project on the side, which meant there was a whole facility for them to move into, expenses paid.
Everything they could possibly think of was included.
He got Bruce a heated yoga mat, even.
Darcy was convinced she'd played a part in Bucky's overall deterioration, but he refused to listen to any of her excuses.
It turned out agents were almost constantly trying to get at him to turn him, to reawaken the Winter Soldier.
HYDRA was very bitter and vengeful when it came to any apparent slight caused.
Sometimes she ate, and sometimes she didn't. She was getting better at not entertaining the former as a good idea in times of stress, but mostly it was just a constant battle she sometimes had no energy fighting.
Especially when Bucky looked at her with his haunted gaze and told her she shouldn't be wasting her time with him, trying to help him, trying to be there for him – instead of spending that time with Bruce.
She and Bruce were so close they developed a kind of rhythm and language only they knew, and Darcy felt like she'd never been closer to anyone in her entire life.
She told him about every demon, every little struggle from her past, and in return he told her everything about his father, namely the fact that he murdered his mother and was spending the rest of his life in prison.
She began to understand that his fear of rage didn't just start from a fear of losing control and becoming the Hulk – but that his father controlled his childhood much like her own, with a particularly sadistic streak that left Bruce afraid of becoming anything like him.
"I love you so much," she just kept saying, kissing his face and his hands, holding him as he wept because of memories or nightmares or both.
When she was with him, she felt safe – and yet, food still dominated a lot of her thinking because she still struggled with normalising it each day.
They'd fight about it. Darcy was the first one to admit it was a problem, but it was harder to explain to anybody else why she couldn't just eat something some days.
Their sex never suffered because of it. If anything, Darcy thought it improved when they fought. It made her more than once consider picking a fight over something insignificant just to experience the make-up sex – but it never got so dire. Bruce always had an appetite and Darcy was always so mischievous and making him give in whenever he got the slightest urge to bend her over something.
It became a running joke amongst all of them living on the compound – where were Bruce and Darcy? Oh, God. Don't ask. Knock first wherever you go.
Bucky was struggling not to punish himself on a daily basis because his flashbacks were so bad, but then Sam was also managing to wheedle himself into his life enough to get through to him occasionally with Steve and Darcy's help.
On a bad morning when Bucky had a violent nightmare the night before, Darcy got the news.
The News.
She was sitting with Bucky on one side of a table with Sam and Steve on the other, when Natasha came racing in with Bruce in tow, her red eyebrows furrowed and Bruce looking pale.
"What is it?" Darcy asked, laughing nervously a little.
Natasha took a deep breath and placed her hand on her shoulder, and Darcy stared back at her, reading the alarm that permeated the room.
"I'm sorry, but your father has died."
Darcy felt more than heard the words. It was strange, considering she hadn't spoken to her parents in over a year – they just had Christmas at the compound and she never reached out to her family, seeming to be rid of them, no longer under the cover of their dark shroud – and yet she gulped at the air, turning to Bruce, blinking and frozen as he nodded.
Darcy didn't know what to do. If she stayed still, she may never move again.
Everyone was watching to see what she'd do, she realised, and she felt her cheeks, which were wet.
Blood?
No, they were tears – and she wiped some away only for them to be back, in more abundance, and she crashed to the floor, having fainted.
When she came to, her head was resting in Bruce's lap and they were all looking down on her, Tony having arrived at some point, and Clint as well.
"Give her some air," Bruce said, his voice louder than normal.
He stroked her cheek as people moved back.
"Hey, baby," he whispered, and Darcy felt a pang in her chest.
He'd never called her that before.
Baby, baby, baby –
"Oh, God," she wailed, and her face screwed up as she sobbed. "Oh, Jesus. No."
She cried because things were never mended. A part of her deep down always wanted to return to her parents, a different, more put together version of herself that could stand tall and unashamed. She'd never have that, now.
If her father was dead, it meant all disappoints had died with him. She could never change that chapter of her life, now.
A part of her wished he'd loved her unconditionally, because she was sure he never did.
"Why am I crying?"
She shook with her sobs, and Bruce just shook his head a little.
"Darcy, you're allowed."
Natasha found out because Darcy's mom Olivia had been blocked from any of Darcy's personal numbers, and JARVIS received some kind of alert when Olivia reached out to the SHIELD office. JARVIS then relayed all this information back to Natasha, probably unsure with how to approach Darcy with the news.
The AI was probably never programed to deal with this sort of situation. Most of the people who lived on the compound were orphaned, and had no family, save for a couple of them.
However, Darcy had chosen to shun her parents.
"You made your choices because it's what you needed," Bruce said, as they sat together alone at their breakfast nook in their new home, the day after she heard The News.
His complete lack of judgement was like a buffer for all her crippling guilt.
Bucky shared a cigarette with her just hours before she was due to return to Rochester for the funeral. Her mom had passed on the details, but she couldn't gauge the kind of welcome she'd receive, so she decided letting Bruce come too was probably the best idea.
Bucky kept shaking his head, hearing what kind of man Laurence Lewis was like.
"I'm not gonna miss him," he grunted.
Darcy smirked a little at that, despite her tears.
"He would have hated you."
"Well, be glad your mom's meeting Bruce and not me," Bucky retorted, taking a long drag from his cigarette and then flicking ash of the balcony they sat on.
Eyes were all on Darcy and Bruce (but mostly Darcy) when they arrived at the church for the funeral. Relatives Darcy hadn't seen since she was a very small child looked over at her barely covering their astonishment.
A cousin from Boston named Claire sidled up to her, giving her a weird half-kiss and hug, leaving Darcy cringing inwardly and looking desperately at Bruce for help.
"Your man?" Claire said, indicating Bruce like he couldn't hear them.
"Sure," Darcy replied, dreading whatever was going to come next.
"Didn't know you were into – uh, older guys, Darce," Claire smirked, and then finally acknowledged Bruce. "No offense."
"None taken?" Bruce returned, embarrassed.
Darcy took his hand and walked off inside the church, to find a seat.
"Darcy!"
It was her mom, who made her way down the pews to them, handkerchief in one hand and her disdain so obvious Darcy immediately regretted ever coming back.
"Mom," she murmured, feeling her heart in her throat, and Bruce squeezed her hand tighter in his.
"How are you?" Darcy added, feeling her hands quickly grow sweaty.
"I had no idea you'd show up," Olivia said, going straight for it.
"Me neither, I guess."
She knew her father had a massive heart attack. If she'd still been in contact with her parents, she would have known this wasn't his first. He'd had one just a couple months after he left Darcy's nose bloody during that Thanksgiving last year.
"Who's this?" Olivia asked, and Bruce didn't let go of Darcy to shake anyone's hand.
"Bruce Banner," Darcy answered, "He's my partner."
Olivia looked a little surprised, only for a colder expression to spread across her face seconds later. She cleared her throat awkwardly.
"Yes, I think your father knew about all your work friends, Darcy. He never did approve."
"Well, I didn't like him beating the shit out of me and you standing idly by."
She didn't care that she'd just sworn in a church – she regretted not saying it sooner, when she was a kid and her father slapped her hard enough for her to fall over, or the time when he told her he wished she'd been born a boy.
Two blotches of colour formed on Olivia's cheeks and her mouth became a hard line.
"Darcy, I did everything I could to make you both happy."
Bruce let out a bark of a laugh, unable to help himself. "Unbelievable."
Darcy wanted to kiss him just for that. She never felt so proud of him.
Her better half.
"We'll go, Mom," Darcy said, feeling the tears welling up anyway. "I just came to say I'm sorry for your loss."
"He was your father, too. Stay for him."
"No," Darcy hissed. "I never could stand doing what I was told. I guess all the abuse did nothing for my total disrespect of authority figures."
They left without another word, and the second they got back to their hired car, she leaned forward and kissed Bruce with such force he drew back, breathless.
"Baby."
"You're incredible. Do you know how much I love you?"
She was stroking him through his suit pants and he gave a kind of disbelieving laugh.
"I have some idea."
They stayed in the city for three days, just the two of them and their bed, and Darcy kept looking over at him, because he kept looking over at her.
It took Bruce another week to actually ask her.
"Marry me," he said, and Darcy stopped mid-step, staring back at him.
They were walking around the compound as the sun set, and she tucked her hair behind her ears and grinned.
"Are you fucking serious?" She blurted, not able to contain herself.
He dropped to one knee, not before dragging a hand through his hair, his old habit.
"Darcy Lewis, will you marry me?"
And she'd probably hate the story, from the sheer corniness of it, but it was her life.
Darcy burst into happy tears, nodding.
"Yes. Please. I'm saying yes."
His lips crashed into hers, and he groaned as she pressed against him, shameless and uncaring about who spied them making out in the field.
They got back to their home – barely able to keep it together beforehand, mind –
Darcy was on top of him on the floor just beyond their front door, Bruce's pants pulled down past his thighs as she sank down on his cock with a shaky breath.
"I'll never get sick of this," Bruce panted, as Darcy moaned above him. "Never ever. Fuck."
"Yes, fuck. Exactly," Darcy murmured, rolling her hips and making him groan.
In seconds, he flipped them so she was pinned to the floor, and he kicked off his pants, shoving inside her once more with more force, seeming drunk on pleasure and his own happiness.
"I'm gonna marry you," he whispered, her hips cradling him, as he kissed her with eyes open, as if to not miss anything.
He didn't seem to stop babbling, not that Darcy minded. Sometimes he became completely incoherent, which was always a funny site to see from the man with seven PhDs.
She just wanted to remember every second with him.
This was insane, that she could be this happy.
They got married quickly, no less than two weeks later. Nobody seemed to question it – stranger things had happened.
For her mother's sake, Darcy sent Olivia a letter about the nuptials, with no intent of following up with her.
To her mom's credit, Olivia did send them a nice picture frame but didn't say much else about it, and Darcy figured that was the best she was going to get.
They were officiated and Bruce didn't even wear a tie – but Darcy was near delirious with her joy, and Bruce seemed the same way.
They were backpacking through India, but nowhere near Bruce used to be in hiding, so as not to ruin the moment by reminding them of difficult times.
Darcy ate nearly everything, and got food poisoning twice – but her intention was clear. She wanted to be a happy and healthy wife.
When they returned a month after their wedding, Darcy was throwing up again, and not because of some questionable goat curry.
They confirmed she was pregnant and Bruce carried her on his back around the compound to tell everybody.
"I have never seen him like this," Tony said, and Darcy couldn't stop smiling – her face hurt.
Jane sent gifts from Norway. Natasha updated Darcy's fitness routine.
Bruce built a crib, which Darcy wasn't aware of until it turned up in their second bedroom, and he waved at it casually, saying, "Oh, that?"
Gaining baby weight wasn't as frightening as Darcy expected. She had morning sickness for the first six weeks and then got that glow she didn't stop hearing about.
"If it's a boy, I'm naming him James," Darcy told Bucky, and he held her for a good three minutes after that, telling her to shut up.
They kept going on missions, and maybe Darcy had become complacent. Things were going so well she got used to it.
The Avengers were sent to Belgium, and Bucky was included for the first time.
It was apparent the second they got there that it was a trap – Bucky was grabbed at by several targets and dragged away.
Cap beat his way across to his friend – and Natasha brought up the rear with Hulk and Tony. Clint was shooting from above.
This all happened while Darcy went for a walk around the field, and once she got about two thirds of the way, she felt an almighty cramp low in her belly, and crouched in the dirt while the pain bore down on her.
It felt like such an ordinary day. And then, like always, Darcy's life went to shit.
She felt around her skirt she wore (because it was getting to that sweltering stage of July) and brought back her sticky fingers covered in the brightest blood Darcy had ever seen.
She may have screamed while sobbing. She probably asked the empty field, why her, why do this to Bruce, too –
She can't remember all of that.
She managed to get herself back inside to alert JARVIS, who promptly phoned an ambulance.
Darcy knew she wasn't dying, but that the baby was.
Back in Belgium, Bruce didn't hear about it until after they clawed their way back to the quinjet with Bucky's unconscious body, the Hulk shrinking back down to his human counterpart.
Natasha was screaming at Tony not to get any closer.
Around this time Bucky's responsibility for Tony's parents' deaths came to light. Some HYDRA asshole made sure he knew, with surveillance footage playing out around the building they barged into in the first place –
Tony could only be described as apoplectic and inconsolable.
Tony was the one who knocked Bucky out. He meant to keep going.
Darcy wished she was there for this. She was convinced later that she could have made an impact and stopped everything from getting so out of control.
Maybe her weakness was that she was too young, and therefore too headstrong and sure of herself at times.
There was no getting to Tony. Darcy would bet anything that even Pepper couldn't have changed his mind.
He was going to kill Bucky, but Cap got between them.
Just as he dove for Bucky again, Natasha kicked his feet out from under him, and then JARVIS announced Darcy was in hospital.
"Wait – shut up!" Bruce roared at everyone, looking frantic.
(This was all relayed to Darcy later by Natasha.)
"What did you say about my wife?"
"Oh, God," Tony said, realising what he nearly missed. "JARVIS, can we get an ETA?"
"Three hours, sir."
"Fuck!" Bruce screamed, and everyone looked alarmed.
His skin began to ripple again, but he sat down, chest heaving, trying to will the transforming away.
Darcy was in a bed by then, being told there wasn't anything they could do.
"How did this happen?" Darcy asked, her voice sounding thin.
She was crying then, her nose running. She sniffled.
The doctor said it was unexpected, but not uncommon to occur during the second trimester. Reality began to sink in, and Darcy shook her head rapidly.
"No, I haven't purged in over a year. I'm healthy. Bruce is healthy –"
But Bruce also is the Hulk, a conspiring little voice whispered at the back of her mind.
"I was getting tested all the time. This doesn't make sense."
It just happened.
Things like this just happen.
Darcy clenched her fists until she drew blood, and she wouldn't move an inch, seeming to be stuck in a place that occurred just before her life being over.
She didn't allow anyone to collect her.
When she got the chance, she ran off, back to the compound.
She wasn't sure what she'd do, except that she had to fix this somehow, without triggering Bruce into some kind of Hulk outburst.
No such luck.
He beat her back, with a fraction of the team.
Cap and Bucky had escaped, but Darcy didn't know that at the time. She was too focused on Bruce's face when he saw her.
She wore her hospital smock over a pair of sweatpants.
"Darcy," he croaked, seeing his worst nightmare come alive.
"Bruce," she breathed, and went to him, trying to hold him to her. "I can't –"
She couldn't say it, she was suddenly tongue-tied.
"I was walking and then, she came too soon."
"She?" Bruce repeated. "Oh, God."
He made the kind of sound Darcy had never heard come from another person before – the kind of fresh anguish amplified by devastating grief, so unexpected and strong her eyes watered.
He fell to the floor of their apartment, and Darcy felt like she couldn't breathe.
"It's me. It's not you. It has to be me," her voice was like a squeak.
"How is not about me? How is not MY FAULT?"
Bruce's voice was suddenly monstrous. He got up, his skin starting to ripple and change to green, and seconds later he managed to charge out into the open where the Hulk stood and roared, as Darcy cried.
Things had been perfect that morning.
She didn't know how to convince him, and Bruce didn't seem to be returning any time soon.
The Hulk bolted across the field, leaving everything behind.
On the other side of the compound, Tony was falling apart. He'd got his suit off, but only to start throwing things around his work room.
As Darcy came by, drawn by the sounds of glass breaking, she flinched as he threw a globe across the room, and upended a table for good measure.
"Tony, what the fuck are you doing?" she yelled, horrified.
"Did you know?" Tony asked, and Darcy felt the cold wash of dread come over her.
"Know what?"
Tony shook his head at her.
"See, I figured since you were so close to Cap and Barnes now, you had to know."
"What are you talking about, Tony?"
He had this mean look in his eyes. He grabbed a glass of scotch from his desk and drained it, before filling it three fingers full and turning back to her.
"You knew about Barnes killing my parents, right?"
Darcy faltered, her gaze averting his. "Tony, you're drunk."
"Yeah, but you knew, right?"
Darcy paused, placing her hands on her hips and suddenly so angry and sick of his outbursts that she knew she wasn't going to take anymore.
She'd had a shitty day.
"I'm fine, by the way. Just got back from the hospital. Had a miscarriage."
He responded exactly how she thought he would – there was a brief look of sympathy before he remembered she'd betrayed him.
"You're fired."
"What? Are you fucking kidding me?" she rose her voice to a scream to match his own. "Just like that, we're done? Because I didn't tell you how your parents died?"
"Why else keep it from me?"
"Because I knew you'd act like an ass and not understand!"
Tony drained his glass, not even stopping to blink. "Yeah, you're definitely fired."
He tried walking past her, and she swiped at his empty glass, knocking it right out of his clasp so it smashed on the floor.
"Fuck you, Tony. You know Bucky had no choice."
"He killed my mom."
She stalked off, all fierceness gone.
She learned from JARVIS that Cap and Bucky had run off, for Bucky's safety. Darcy knew that Steve would sooner die than let anything happen to his best friend.
Darcy woke abruptly hours later, somehow managing to doze off.
Bruce didn't mean to wake her, she was certain of that. He looked like he was in the middle of leaving her, his bag over his shoulder and his boots on.
His eyes looked red and puffy.
"Baby, please don't go."
"I was stupid to think I could have had some semblance of a normal life," he muttered, looking her over.
She was still wearing the smock.
"Stay here. We can make another one."
"It's not as simple as that."
His words sunk in, but Darcy failed to sit with them, instead shaking her head.
"Remember me. Remember how good we are together."
Bruce grimaced a little at that. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for leading you on."
Darcy felt panic rising in her chest.
"No. Don't do this. I love you."
She got to her feet, blocking the doorway.
"Let me go, Darce."
"Please, I love you."
Her tears were spilling over, and she tried to kiss him. He hardly returned it, keeping his hands away from her.
"I have to go."
He pushed her aside, and Darcy let herself stumble and land on the carpet, sobbing.
She left the next day.