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Devil Baby Driver

If ever they made a movie about Darcy Lewis's life it would start here – a freeze-frame of complete and utter chaos – before even bothering to address the shit with the aliens and the scientists and the series of world-ending events that she always found herself in the middle of. The movie would start right there in the car. With her eyes wide and unblinking, her foot pressed so hard on the gas pedal that she was almost standing in the driver's seat with bullets flying past her head.

Clint Barton, hanging out the passenger side window, was taking shots at the car behind them and yelling at her not to fucking stop for anything. And Sam Wilson, cussing up a storm in the back seat, was bleeding from the abdomen when he kicked out one of the back windows and busted the head of one of their assailants on the car door. The motorcycle flew into the air and landed a few yards away. If Darcy could talk, she'd be screaming. But she was silent and hyperventilating instead. Her heart was beating a bruise into her rib cage, and she was pretty sure they were all going to die.

Earlier that day...

Darcy was perched on a stool in Jane's lab, working her way through a pile of notes that the physicist had left for her to decipher. The hieroglyphics her boss produced were a one-way ticket to a migraine if Darcy wasn't careful, and she was relieved to look up after what felt like hours and realize that she was almost done. Breaking briefly to refill her cup of coffee and throw a bag of popcorn into the microwave for Jane, Darcy took a moment to stretch out the kinks in her back and shoulders.

"Good. Good. You're warming up, I'll see you in the gym in a few minutes Darce. I just gotta go grab a few things from my quarters." Clint Barton said from his place in the doorway.

Darcy looked around the room, confused, before looking back at Clint. So out of the ordinary were the man's words that even Jane looked up from her science to make a noise of bewilderment.

"Say what?" Darcy finally spoke up when Jane scrunched her nose and shrugged at her.

"The gym. Darcy. You're scheduled for your classes today."

"Classes? I didn't sign up for any classes Clinton." She scoffed. "And since when do you teach?"

He groaned and pressed his head against the metal door frame, then looked between her and Jane.

"Don't tell me they didn't tell you."

They just looked stupidly at him.

"Mandatory self-defense training for all non-combatant personnel. Someone was supposed to tell you weeks ago."

"I don't self-defend Clinton! I run! So, we're fine. I don't have to go."

"That's not how it works Darcy, and I've seen you run. Needs some improvement," he said. He wasn't joking; she could see it in his eyes.

"We can start with running if you want – work on your form and endurance. You don't technically have to fight to survive. Though I'm gonna teach you a couple basic techniques anyway. You're not going to talk me out of it."

"No. Just no." She shook her head and tried to ignore the growing tightness in her chest. "I graduated high school. No more P.E. That's like the universal agreement Clint!"

"Sorry kid, but no dice."

She wielded her mug of coffee like a sword. It was the only thing standing between her and the danger that the assassin posed.

"Well, no one told me about this thing for today so unfortunately I can't make it. I've got a lot of work to catch up on and I don't have time to go all the way down to the gym today." Clint arched an eyebrow at her neatly stacked pile of papers, most of which were already in her completed folder. Which was clearly marked for the world to see – didn't need to be Hawkeye for that one to be obvious.

"Darcy. It's mandatory. If you don't go, then your access will be rescinded until the training is completed. My hands are tied. No training, no working and if you don't work Jane will have to hire someone else—"

"SHE'LL GO!" Jane shot out of her desk with glassy eyes and unkempt hair. "Darcy, go. I can't hire someone else. Do you know how long it took me to find you? And you don't even like science, but you put up with my crazy Darcy. And I am crazy. I know it, he knows it, you know it. Who'll make the coffee if you're gone?" She pushed her gently toward Clint, but her eyes were steel.

"Great." Clint rubbed his hands together before leading a panicking Darcy out of the room. "I'll see you tomorrow at five o'clock sharp Dr. Foster, for the start of your sessions."

He didn't wait for a response, whistling as he walked away from the sound of the sputtering scientist in the lab behind them.

The gym was everything Darcy imagined, and worse.

Captain America and the Winter Soldier were in the middle of a boxing ring, circling each other with the coldest looks on their faces that Darcy had ever seen. Thor was on the edge of the ring, giving the constructive criticism that only a thousand-year-old warrior could give.

And it only escalated. Everywhere she looked the place was teeming with jack booted thugs. There was no way she was gonna stay there in the middle of all that testosterone. She had to get the motherfuck out of there.

He left her by an unused treadmill. Told her to warm up while he stepped in the back room to store the bag he carried on his shoulder. She rolled her eyes and nodded at him, watched him disappear, then she about-faced and marched her ass to the door.

"The Lady Darcy! My lightning sister with a warrior's heart!" Came Thor's bellow from across the room, she froze and looked back toward the boxing ring. Thor was headed her way with a purposeful step. She bit back a groan.

"Hey big guy."

"I hope you have not taken offense at my own reticence to be involved in your training, Darcy," He placed a large hand on her shoulder and ducked his head to the side. "I was of the opinion that my own area of expertise would be of little use to your schooling."

She had to laugh at that, patting his hand.

"Yeah dude, I'm not quite capable of shooting lightning out of my ass quite yet. Gimme a few years," She said, and Thor smirked down at her. "Mew Mew and I have an agreement."

"Yes, I know. Mjolnir holds you in the highest regard."

Not even bothering to react to that, she continued.

"It's good to see ya big guy, but now's not the best time. I gotta go. Clint will be back soon."

He scrunched his face in confusion and looked around. Sam was shaking his head with a smile, cooling down on the treadmill. Steve and Bucky were whispering about something while they leaned on the ropes of the ring.

"Were you not here to learn his ways in the art of battle?"

"Yeah dude. Totally. But lesson one is evasive tactics. And I don't have a lot of time to get out of here before he shows up again."

Understanding dawned in Thor's eyes and he nodded curtly.

"I apologize. I see now I have hindered your efforts. Go," he nudged her toward the door. "I shall distract our friend, to make up for the time I have cost you."

"Thanks dude. You're the best," She said before backing toward the door.

She ignored the knowing look Steve was giving her from the far end of the room, before turning and breaking into a brisk walk, fighting the urge to sprint.


The thing about being friends with superheroes is that you pick up a good number of skills on the fly, without even realizing that you're doing it. Darcy could totally handle a mediocre mugger on her own, due to desensitization and experience. Once you've battled dark elves on the streets of London, a dude in an alleyway trying to take your wallet is small change. The problem in being friends with superheroes, especially those of the spysassin variety, is that they outclass you in everything you thought you had picked up in the time that you've known them.

Darcy knew she had to get out of the building. Avenger's Tower wasn't safe to stay in so long as Barton was looking for her. And the last five minutes had taken years off her life in terms of stress. If Thor had failed in distracting him or had finished in his efforts by now, Clint could be anywhere, and to say he'd be determined would be the biggest understatement of her life.

She ducked into a nondescript stairwell; knew he'd expect her to head down to the front entrance. So, naturally, she panicked and went upstairs instead.

"Jarvis," she whispered.

His voice echoed softly through the stairwell as he tried to answer her discreetly.

"Enact privacy protocols please," she begged.

He did as she said.

"J," She started. "Do you have a read on Agent Barton?"

"I am afraid he has enacted his privacy protocols, Miss Lewis."

"Oh, fuck me in the eye!"

"Can you tell me how to get out of here, J?" She asked and then clarified. "Without getting caught."

"Certainly, Miss Lewis"

Suddenly the stairwell dimmed, and a series of lights lit up on the floor. The emergency lights.

"Marry me, Jarvis."

"It would be an honor Miss Lewis. Now if I may suggest that you hurry."

That was all she needed to hear. She bolted up the steps, taking them two at a time, and tried to ignore the cramp in her thigh. She followed the lights out an unmarked door, through a series of empty hallways, past an unsuspecting Bruce Banner, and up another flight of stairs. The lights led straight to an elevator which pinged open just in time for her to throw herself bodily in; Jarvis shut the doors quickly behind her. The elevator whirred as it began its ascent.


Despite what everyone thought, Tony Stark did a lot more than just tinker around in his lab and cause problems. The man ran a multibillion-dollar company before he handed it over to Pepper, had his hands in several charities and initiatives, and now was the financial and technological spine of the Avenger's Initiative.

So, he spent most Thursday mornings in the office in his penthouse with a stack of paperwork and a protein shake. Reveling in the peace and quiet no one expected Iron Man to either want or need.

Jarvis spoke up quietly then.

"Sir."

"Go ahead J."

"Miss Lewis is on her way to the penthouse. Does she have permission to enter?"

Tony had to raise his eyebrows at that, mind working a mile a minute. He wracked his brain for any reason Team Science's devil baby would be on her way to speak to him in private.

"Do we know what she wants to talk about?"

Jarvis hesitated.

"I am afraid I can't say, sir. She has enacted her privacy protocols."

If he was concerned Tony never showed it, but he nodded and stood from his desk.

"Let her in."

He made his way to his private elevator and waited.


She was sitting on the floor of the elevator, out of breath and trying desperately to massage the cramp in her leg when the doors dinged open. Standing before her with a curious glint in his eye was the one and only Tony Stark.

"Christ on a cracker kid, you look wrecked."

He didn't bother helping her up but waved her in, nonetheless.

"I hear you want to speak with me about something, Lewis?"

"Uh…no?"

"Sir," Jarvis spoke up. "I am afraid I have misled you."

Tony's head shot up to the ceiling with a look of total bewilderment.

"Misled me? Did I miss your last growth spurt?"

"I'm afraid we would need to run more conclusive diagnostics before I can answer that with any certainty, sir."

"Alright then, you got me. What's got you turning my own AI against me, Lewis?"

"Clint's trying to make me exercise and I ran away when he wasn't looking. He's out there somewhere and he activated his privacy protocols and I panicked. So, Jarvis led me here and now I'm here. Please don't rat me out."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Barton is hunting you?" He barked out a laugh. "Shit Lewis."

She hummed in agreement keeping an eye on the vents.

"Lucky for you," He gave her a sly look. "You've got friends in high places."

He walked back toward the elevator and waved his hand dramatically for her to get back in. She did so with a distrustful eye.

"Jarvis enact security protocol 'No Idiot's Allowed' and take us to my private garage."

"Right away, sir"

The elevator doors whirred open when they reached their destination and Darcy was led out into the middle of complete and total excess.

"See anything you like Lewis?"

"I don't know shit about cars Stark," She said, but she couldn't hide her awe at the sight of it all.

He scoffed.

"You know how to drive don't you?"

"Yeah."

"Then you know some shit about cars. You drive stick?"

"Yep"

"Good. Gives you more options."

"Take your pick, Lewis."

She made her way over to a midnight silver number and turned to look at him with a sparkle in her eyes.

"The Tesla, eh?"

She shrugged.

"Not bad, kid. Hop in." He gestured to the passenger door before getting in the front seat. He was off like a bullet the moment her seat belt clicked.


Clint Barton may have played the fool for comedic purposes when he wasn't working, but the man was sharp as a double-edged blade. A fact that his teammates were well aware of. So, to say he was a little aggravated at Thor's attempts to distract him was an understatement.

"What do you mean she left?!" He growled at Thor who was looking far to amused for his own good.

"What'd you expect man?" Sam cut in. "Darcy doesn't take orders from anyone. Everyone knows that. How'd you think you were just gonna march her in here, tell her to get on a treadmill, and walk away like she's actually going to do it?"

"He has a point my friend," Thor nodded in agreement.

"You knew she was lying to you," Clint sighed. "And you just…let her walk away."

"It was a very convincing lie," the prince's voice was warm. "It brought me a great deal of amusement and pride. I enjoy seeing such creativity and dedication in my young friends."

Clint ignored him, muttering to himself instead.

"She knows I'm just gonna drag her back here. She's not that hard to find." He rolled his eyes up to the ceiling.

"Jarvis."

"Agent Barton." The AI answered promptly, though his tone was decidedly disapproving.

"Could you give me Darcy's whereabouts?"

"Darcy, sir?"

"Yes, Darcy Lewis."

"Oh, you mean Miss Lewis… of course."

Bucky was laughing under his breath. Clint pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Where is she Jarvis?"

"She is in Avenger's Tower, sir."

"Aveng—" He heaved out an exasperated groan. "Yes, Jarvis, I know she is in Avenger's tower. Where in the tower is she, right now?"

There was a pause, and for a second the gathered Avenger's thought Jarvis would refuse to tell him. An act that would have been unheard of from the AI that was always so eager to be of service. Up until this moment, Jarvis had always seemed to enjoy helping Clint. Guess they knew where he stood when it came to Darcy.

"Miss Lewis is in the hallway near the east stairwell."

"Thank you, Jarvis."

The AI didn't answer.

Clint set off in search of Darcy, pausing only when Sam called for him to wait up.

"Thought I'd join you. See if she's interested in learning some first aid while she's at it."

Clint nodded at the idea but wished Sam luck with a wry twist of his lips.

The two men entered the east stairwell at the sound of murmured voices behind the door. And looked at each other in bewilderment when the overhead lights cut out and the security lights came to life on the ground.

Then footsteps sounded a couple flights above them, and Clint could just make out the sound of labored breathing.

They'd found her.

They flew up the steps, quickly gaining on Darcy. When they heard a door slam open and shut.

"Gotta be the fire door to Bruce's level." Sam called out before the two of them tore through the doorway that Darcy went through.

"Hey!" Bruce yelled as the two men breezed past him. "What's going on?!"

"Darcy go this way?" Clint called back to Banner.

"Yeah," Bruce told him, bewildered. "Took a right and hit the elevator! Why though?"

"Tell you later man," Sam laughed back at the scientist.

When they hit the elevator, the doors remained closed.

"Hey J," Sam called out. "Would you mind helping us catch a ride here?"

"Certainly, Senior Airman Wilson," Jarvis said. "As soon as Sir has lifted his 'No Idiots Allowed' security protocol."

Despite his annoyance from earlier, Clint couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up at that. Sam's shoulders were shaking silently as they just looked at each other before completely losing their shit.

"Guys," Bruce said from behind them. "What the heck is going on? Have you lost your minds? Is there an emergency?"
The two men couldn't stop laughing long enough to answer him.

They made their way back to the stairs. Waving a quick bye to an exasperated Bruce before heading back down to their respective levels. Only stopping once to glance out a window, to see a sparkling grey Tesla Roadster take off like a bullet from Tony's private garage.

"Senior Airman Wilson, Agent Barton," Javis spoke then. "Security protocols have been lifted. I am happy to report that Miss Lewis has left the building. You may now make your way to an elevator of your choice."

Clint rubbed his hand down his face.

"Thanks, Jarvis."


Twenty minutes later, the two runaways were parked outside a Dairy Queen eating ice cream and shooting the shit. Tony gave a final crunch to his cone and crumpled up his napkin and tossed it in the cupholder. He looked her over before opening the driver side door. Fished the key fob out of his pocket and tossed it over to her.

"Don't wreck my car."

"What are you doing?"

He tapped at the nanotech on his chest and the Iron Man suit assembled itself around his body.

"Got work to do."

Then he just took off. Leaving Darcy with a half-eaten ice cream cone, a half-million-dollar car, and the day to herself.

"Fuck yes!"

She climbed over the center console and adjusted the seat.

"J-man, you there?"

"Of course, Miss Lewis."

"Call Stark please."

He answered on the first ring.

"Don't tell me you wrecked her already, kid."

"Adopt me, Tony."

He barked out a laugh.

"I could be a totally beneficial child to you. Think about it Stark; you and me! We could take over the world."

"I like the way you think, Lewis. But Pep would have a conniption."

"Hey! Mommy Warbucks loves the heck out of me Tony Stark!"

"Let me see what I can do," he said and cut the call.

She shook her head, before pulling out of the parking lot and punching it.


Darcy couldn't quite pin down when exactly it all went wrong. One minute she was driving peacefully down the road. Then she was stuck in a salty phone call with Agent Hawkass, and the next thing she knew the Tesla was stuck on the side of the road, just inches shy from hitting a tree. Clint's voice was floating somewhere in the background asking her what was going on. She couldn't really figure out how to answer him.

There was smoke still coming off the road from where her tires had skidded. There was glass in her hair.

Darcy groaned and tried to move but hissed when she aggravated a shard of glass that was caught between her leg and the leather seat. Her face was wet, and her mouth tasted like metal. Slowly her whole body began to burn.

Teeth clenched in a noiseless hiss, Darcy jammed her hand against the seat belt a couple of times, trying desperately to unlock it. She could hear footsteps on the asphalt outside the car. Hushed voices and the rumble of an engine.

A radio beeped and a male voice told the person on the other end that they had a lock on their target. Darcy pounded at the seat belt, tore at the fabric, trying desperately to get free.

Clint's muffled voice was grim in the background, but she heard him clearly when he told her to hold on.

The belt came loose with one last jab from her bloody hand. It zipped back just in time for one of the men to make it to the back window. In the mirror, she saw his gun aimed inward and she feigned unconsciousness while her hand felt wildly around for some sort of weapon.

She closed her eyes and evened out her breathing as he made his way to the driver's side door, waited as he tore it open, and felt for her pulse.

"Target is unconscious. Prepare for extraction."

Darcy's hand clenched tightly around the pen she'd found buried between the seats and waited until he'd pulled her completely out of the car before jamming the pen as hard as she could into the space above his bulletproof vest with a scream.

He dropped her with a cry of alarm and watched completely dumbfounded as she stumbled and ran away. His team behind him started yelling, trying to figure out what the fuck had happened.

Brock Rumlow, on the other hand, pulled the pen out of his neck and turned it around in his hand.

"We need her alive boys." He said to them. "Don't shoot her."

And then he strode in the direction she had run toward, knowing that he'd find her somewhere past the tree line.


"Come on Jarvis don't tell me we're completely blind out there," Clint said through clenched teeth from his place in the cockpit. "Do we have a video feed from the car?"

"Yes sir, I will play it now."

Sam leaned in to view the footage from behind Clint as they made their way to Darcy's last known location.

The two of them watched as the view from the windshield as an unknown shockwave rocked the road, watched the car skid across the highway and into a small tree. Saw the cracked glass and Darcy's head slam down on the steering wheel.

From what the camera caught in the mirrors, there were at least six men. One of whom had an all too familiar face.

"Fucking Rumlow," Clint growled under his breath.

"That dude needs to learn how to die." Sam shook his head.

Their response time was five minutes in the quinjet. And their plan was half-cocked, but it was better than nothing. They'd hear about it later, they knew.

Clint dropped the ramp in the air, allowing Sam to duck out the back. He watched his teammate swoop down and take out two of the straggling assailants with a clip of his wings. Before settling down by the wrecked Tesla. Clint landed and tore out of the plane.

They neutralized the last three of Rumlow's team before going in search of Darcy and Brock.


When Barton and Wilson stumbled across Darcy a few yards into the woods, they didn't know she was there, and she didn't know they were them. So, it was safe to say that Sam was a little surprised when the woman landed on his back, wrapped arms around his neck, and began to squeeze.

In a quick maneuver, he grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder, stopping short from slamming her into the ground when he saw who exactly it was that was trying to kill him.

"Darcy," He whispered roughly and shook the panicking girl "Darce, it's me. It's Sam."

Clint gave her a once over from afar, content to let Sam handle that situation while he kept his eyes on the trees around them.

"We gotta move." He told them. Rumlow was too quiet for his own good.

Clint led them out of the woods but held up a fist and crouched down upon reaching the tree line. Sam shoved Darcy down, instructing her to crawl her way over to Clint. He held a finger to his lips before nudging her and mouthing Go.

The road was teeming with black SUVs and all-terrain vehicles. The quinjet was surrounded by Hydra goons and high-power weaponry.

"Where's everyone else?" Darcy hissed at Clint.

"We are everyone else Darce," Sam muttered.

"People know where we are right?"

"Jarvis does," Clint said grimly.

"What's the plan exactly?" Darcy tried to ignore the twinge of panic in her chest and her burning skin. Her wounds were totally going to get infected if she didn't get murdered first.

A couple of the goons had moved the Tesla onto the road again, where it was waiting most likely to be towed.

"The car," Clint said. "We need to get to the car."

"Do we know if it'll even start though man…" Sam said incredulously.

Darcy pulled away from where Sam was applying pressure to the wound on her bicep and reached into her front pocket.

"One way to find out," She said smugly and dangled the key fob between them before holding down the auto-start button and watching the car shrewdly.

It was barely there, looked like a glare off the metal from the sun. But they knew that the car had started. Knew that if the Hydra agents milling about were paying attention, they would notice the distinct purr of a well-crafted engine and the radio playing softly inside. But above all the shouting, the engines of the other cars, and the radio chatter. No one paid the vehicle a second glance. They were too busy organizing teams to search the woods, while Rumlow cussed up a storm at anyone who was unfortunate enough to cross his path.

"Go," Sam nodded at Clint. "We're right behind you."

Clint snatched the fob out of Darcy's hands, moved noiselessly up the wall of the small ditch they were in, through the brush, and stopped at the passenger side door. Double-checking to make sure he remained undetected he gave a gentle tug and smiled as the door clicked open. A quick hand gesture and Sam ushered Darcy up the hill and out of the ditch. She felt his hand settle on the back of her neck, forcing her to stay low as they ran. When they made it to Clint, they didn't fuck around. Sam shoved Darcy face-first into the back seat, while Clint hopped into the passenger seat. She beat him to the wheel though, having slithered over the center console. He looked like her was about to argue with her once he and Sam tugged the car doors quietly closed.

"Look dude," she whisper-yelled. "I get that I am way out of my depth here and I'll do any of the stupid training you want. But when this shit inevitably gets worse. I think we can all agree that we want Hawkeye to be shooting instead of driving the fucking car, don't you think?"

"She's got a point man. Darcy put on your seatbelt and floor it." Sam directed her. His gun already cocked and aimed at a goon that was standing by one of the armored cars.

She buckled up quickly, threw the car in drive, and stomped her foot on the gas. Not even bothering to look at the stunned Hydra agents that she passed by. She didn't dare look in the rear-view to see how many pursued them. Darcy only had eyes for what was in front of her.

The back window shattered as she drove, and Clint shouted something at her, but she couldn't hear anything but the zip of a bullet flying past her ear.

"FUCK!" She looked wildly over at him and his face was grim as he gave her a quick once over before hopping back up leaning out the window. Darcy was the problem child of a couple of New Mexico hippies, she'd never believed in violence. Never condoned killing. And there was a part of her deep down that felt sick at the fact that she was watching two of her friends openly and knowingly try to kill people, felt sick that the thought relieved her. But she kept the car pointed forward and shot like lightning down the highway anyway.

A shout from the back had her swerving and looking behind her. Sam was clutching at his abdomen, hissing, blood spreading slowly beneath his fingertips.

"Fuck Sam!" She screeched. "Just don't die, dude! I'm gonna get us out of here!" She didn't know how – didn't even know where to go. A glance in the rearview was a mistake. Two armored vehicles and a set of motorcycles were gaining on them quickly.

Sam was injured in the back seat and Clint just kept shooting. She saw a bullet fly through the windshield of one of the cars before the driver swerved and crashed into the center divider. One of the motorcycles pulled ahead, the driver aiming her gun through the window at Darcy's head. That's about when Darcy lost her voice completely.

All she could see was a finger on a trigger. All she could hear was the sound of bullet casings hitting the floor and the dash. The roar of the road and the shouting and hissing of violent men.

If ever they made a movie about Darcy Lewis's life it would start here – a freeze-frame of complete and utter chaos – before even bothering to address the shit with the aliens and the scientists and the series of world-ending events that she always found herself in the middle of. The movie would start right there in the car. With her eyes wide and unblinking, her foot pressed so hard on the gas pedal that she was almost standing in the driver's seat with bullets flying past her head.

Clint Barton, hanging out the passenger side window, was taking shots at the car behind them and yelling at her not to fucking stop for anything. And Sam Wilson, cussing up a storm in the back seat, was bleeding from the abdomen when he kicked out one of the back windows and busted the head of the woman on the motorcycle against the car door. The motorcycle flew into the air and landed a few yards away.

If Darcy could talk, she'd be screaming. But she was silent and hyperventilating instead. Her heart was beating a bruise into her rib cage, and she was pretty sure they were all going to die.

And then, on the horizon, two new motorcycles cut a blur through the air as they drove straight toward the Tesla. But Darcy couldn't talk, couldn't warn Clint who was looking behind them, or Sam who was a little preoccupied with bleeding out in the back seat. Just as Darcy had resigned herself to becoming a killer, just as she decided she'd have to ram into the bikes before they killed her and her friends, she caught a glimpse of red hair and the glint of vibranium. Darcy held the wheel straight and let out a choked laugh as the Black Widow and Captain America shot past them on both sides. Shooting the group a small wave and a lazy salute respectively. Just minutes after, Clint interrupted her adrenaline-fueled haze.

"Slow down Darcy," Clint ordered, placing his left hand over hers where they held onto the steering wheel.

"Slow down Darce." He said again, softly.

She took her foot off the gas before applying pressure to the break. When the car finally stopped. Clint threw it in the park for her, before hopping out and jogging around to Sam's door.

"Lookin good there Wilson," He smirked and helped the man get out of the car to lay on the asphalt.

Behind them, the Black Widow, Captain America, and Iron Man were rounding up the survivors for questioning and a couple of unmarked SHIELD vehicles were arriving on the scene.

Darcy was perplexed, not quite sure when Stark had gotten there. She hadn't remembered seeing him with Natasha and Steve but shrugged it off. She went back to staring forward, watching the horizon. Itching to take off again, and not look behind her.

Clint was applying pressure to Sam's wound, briefing the medical team on everything he knew about what had happened. They loaded Sam on the chopper and took off. Clint looked at his approaching teammates tiredly before heading back to Darcy.

She was still clutching the steering wheel when he crouched down next to her. Wouldn't let go when he asked her to. She didn't notice when Natasha nudged him out of the way.

"I leave you alone with the boys for only a week and already you are driving their getaway vehicles, Milaya?" Natasha joked gently before reaching in and taking Darcy's hands off the steering wheel.

"Come on, Darcy. It's time to go home and get you checked out." She said and pulled the girl out of the car with deceptively strong arms. She wrapped Darcy in the shock blanket Steve produced from thin air.

Darcy looked miserably up at Tony.

"I wrecked your car."

He snorted.

"No shit Lewis. Christ." Tony said.

Steve looked at Tony like he was gonna scold him but Stark cut him off.

"I guess it's a good thing I'm getting the new model. Whatever." He waved a nonchalant hand in the air.

"Take-out at my place tonight." He looked the kid over and flipped down his faceplate. "Be there or be lame." Then he made his exit.

Darcy laughed tiredly before leaning into Natasha's embrace. As the group made their way back to the quinjet Darcy piped up, her voice raw.

"Is anyone else like really hungry?"