One small moment, and the world shatters around her. A – gust of wind blows a – heavy curtain of hair in her face, it obscures her view. Darcy grits her teeth and her eyes glow with the anger she does not – yet – have an outlet to. Bright orbs want to drown everything in them, the calmness of the sea. Darcy makes a mad dash for the source of her misery, her – imaginary – backpack hitting her with every step.
A fist flies out. It collides with a gaunt cheek and the bones in her hand quiver. The force she put behind her blow goes both ways. She curses a fright and sinks her nails in the other hand. "You! You vermin! Scum! How dare you show you face around here?!" She yells and yells until her throat is sore. But her visitor is unmoved by her display. "Get out!" She pushes against him – when all she really wants is to keep clinging to him – in vain.
Suddenly two hands grip her shoulders, applying a great deal of pressure. Darcy stills her movements. She waits for him to say something. Anything. And he does not disappoint. "Have you been taking you medicine?" He shakes her away gently. "Miss Lewis, can you answer the question?"
She hadn't expected this. "Loki, why are you asking me about this?" She is genuinely confused, and it shows as a frown on her – too pale – face. "You sound like one of those doctors." She laughs – hysterically – because it's so damn funny. "I swear you sound just like one of them." She flings herself in his arms and wraps hers around him. "I missed you."
"Miss Lewis," Loki says, uncertainty in his words, "when was the last time you took the pills." He pries her away again.
"Loki!" Darcy exclaims, all of a sudden annoyed with him. "What's with all these questions?" She continues her tirade a while longer. "Or have they managed to make you believe it too?" She gives him a cross stare when he fails to answer. "I am not crazy," Darcy insists.
"Of course not, Miss Lewis," Loki immediately agrees. "Would you like me to leave?"
Darcy tilts her head to the side. "What I would like is a cup of coffee. And a walk outside. And a change of clothes. This white clashes horribly with my skin." She blinks owlishly. "What have you been up to Loki?"
He coughs. "Not much, I have finished my latest thesis and I'm going to get it published." Loki has no idea why he's explaining this to her. She watches him absently, her mind miles away. "And you miss Lewis?"
"Oh, this and that," she replies nonchalantly. "But instead of a thesis, shouldn't you work on that glowing cube of yours?" One eyebrow rises in question. "Have you given up world domination?"
As if burned, Loki rises to his feet and goes to the door. He stops for a brief second, looks like he's about to turn around, but then decides against it and opens the door. He tells something to another man dressed in white. He is handed something and swiftly closes the door.
"I have something for you," he tells Darcy. "Be a good girl and take this." He opens her pal and places a couple of pills in it. "You'll feel better afterwards."
Her refusal comes with a violent shake of her head and the childish gesture of throwing the pills to the ground. "No!" she screams out categorically. "You cannot make me!"
That's when a pair of women walks in. They flank Darcy and hold her. She trashes desperately as they force the pills down her throat. "Swallow." She hears Loki order. "Come on Miss Lewis, I have no time for this. Be a good girl and take your pills and then we'll let you rest."
In the end she can do nothing but ingest the pills. But it is far from over. As soon as her mouth is free she starts screeching at the top of lungs. "Loki! I want to leave this place. Please, Loki! Please, I want to go out!"
The door closes with a loud thud and her yells come to a halt. She is alone Darcy reclines on the ground, spreading out her limbs. She drags in – the scent of freshly cut grass – air, filling her lungs with it. "Come back, Loki. I'm bored," she whispers.
On the other side of the wall, two voices hold a conversation she cannot make much out of. Still she hears her name being mentioned and smiles dumbly. So they haven't forgotten her. She hopes not because then they might bring her another gown, one with livelier colours, because as she said white is not for her.
A sort of strange tiredness creeps over her. Darcy muffles a yawn. She falls asleep on the ground, sure than when she will wake, Loki will visit her again
