Depictions of depression and anxiety here...That being said, it is a personal favorite.

Please leave a comment. I'd love to hear thoughts, comments, criticisms. I am all ears.

Everybody Wants to Rule the World

Saturday and Sunday, Darcy hid away from the world. The world didn't notice.

On Monday, Darcy woke up with bags under her eyes that she knew no one else would be able to see. It was going to be a red lipstick kind of day, she decided, while she was still buried in her comforter.

She ignored the voice in her head that told her she could call in – tell Jane she was taking a sick day. It's not like the place would implode without her. Then she remembered who she worked for – geniuses they all were, but Jane, Bruce, and Tony couldn't really be left unsupervised.

Ignoring the coil in her belly Darcy took an extra long shower, pulled on her best pair of skinny jeans, and traded out her typical tank top and cardigan for a cute blouse and a blazer. She spent an extra ten minutes on her makeup before finally leaving for the labs.

Darcy had bags under her eyes that no one else could see, but her outfit added a temporary swagger to her step. Then one of the lab monkeys did a double-take when he got in the elevator. Darcy tugged at her top and moved a little further into the corner. She thought to herself that maybe she should go back and change. Kept glancing discreetly down to make sure her cleavage wasn't out of control, she kept tugging at the back of her blouse to make sure it wasn't riding up.

By the time the elevator stopped at her destination, Darcy was one hundred percent certain she looked like a child playing dress-up or a cow. She wasn't sure which, maybe a combination of the two.

Every few minutes she pulled out her phone to make sure her lipstick hadn't smudged. She was pretty sure it had. The camera on her phone said otherwise.

Tuesday was only worse. She had planned on taking her time getting ready like she had the day before, but no matter how many times she snoozed Darcy couldn't seem to drag herself from her bed.

She pressed her forehead against the tile in her shower while standing under the spray. Her mind typically ran a mile a minute in those moments, but not a single thought entered or exited her mind. The water turned cold before she shut it off, and she stood there wrapped in her towel for a while, still just…leaning against the wall.

In the labs that day, Tony made a joke about her college dropout status. It wasn't meant to be malicious – just Tony being Tony – but her mind kicked into overdrive and the heavy weight that had been in her chest all day turned into molten lava.

She didn't say anything about it. Didn't say anything about the fact that she'd spent so many years being jerked around by SHIELD and their thugs, following Jane into every life-threatening situation the woman could find, being told when and where to be by every person who thought they knew better than she did about her own life. Didn't say that she never even got the chance to go back and complete her final semester.

She had all the debt and no degree. And yeah, some of that was her fault. She didn't go back right away because she didn't know what she wanted anymore. Everything felt so insignificant in the wake of the destroyer. And she wasn't allowed to talk about it with anyone. It's not like she had medical insurance – sure as hell couldn't pay out of pocket for a therapist that she would have to lie to about the source of her trauma.

And since she wasn't a SHIELD agent, their mental health professionals weren't available to her. By the time Stark Industries had employed her, years had passed. It didn't even occur to them to ask if she had worked through everything that happened to her. It didn't even occur to anyone to ask her what she wanted if she regretted not finishing her degree. It didn't occur to them that the two major world-ending disasters that she had survived as well as being forced to move all over the world without always being told where and why she had to, may have been a bit of a tough situation to work through on her own.

She was constantly jerked around in the name of science and of safety, all the while keeping her mouth shut about stuff she didn't have the clearance – or preparation – for. But Darcy didn't really think she could complain, it's not like she ever spoke up about the issues she was having.

Darcy didn't say any of that to Tony though. Couldn't say any of that. Because the person she would have been saying it to had been tortured almost to death, saved himself, and then became a superhero all with a piece of shrapnel stuck in his chest.

Darcy didn't say any of that because Bruce was standing there. And the man had way more baggage than she could ever possibly comprehend. And Jane too was next to her, oblivious to how much Stark's words had hurt Darcy. But Darcy couldn't say anything with Jane standing there…because then Jane would feel guilty for dragging Darcy into it all. And it wasn't Jane's fault that Darcy hated herself sometimes. Making her boss feel bad would just make Darcy feel like even more of a loser.

It wasn't the first time that Darcy thought she should just shut up and feel grateful. She really fucking wanted to just be grateful. But in that moment, all Darcy could think was that she was a charity case, and she didn't deserve it.

The three geniuses didn't notice when the girl's fingers started tracing patterns onto her desk. They didn't notice the hard edge around her eyes or the blank expression she adopted.

When Darcy finished her work for the day, she robotically headed for the elevator. When the doors opened, she held in a groan to find that not only was it occupied, but it was occupied by Pepper and Colonel Rhodes. She smiled brightly at them, wondered if they could see through it. She barely registered the smiles and greetings they shot her way as she stepped in next to them. They struck up a conversation, but even as it was happening Darcy had no idea what they were talking about. She just responded at the appropriate moments with the most generic contributions she could muster. Her throat was tight, and it took forever to reach her floor. Darcy said goodbye and made her exit.

She couldn't decide if she was hurt or relieved that neither of them followed her out or asked her what was wrong. To be honest, she didn't even know if they could tell anything was wrong with her. But the two of them were busy people, and she didn't really know them that well anyway. It made sense really, that they wouldn't notice her.

That stung a little bit too.

She undressed when she got into her apartment before walking quickly to her bed. Once she was cocooned in the safety of her comforter Darcy let herself cry.


Darcy walked in on Sam and Rhodey having a hushed conversation in the common area on Wednesday. She hadn't known they were there, and they hadn't heard her coming.

They stopped short when she entered, looked seriously in her direction, before offering a couple of forced smiles.

Darcy stuttered and made to leave when Sam told her not to worry about it, to stay, that he and Rhodey were on their way out anyway. She fidgeted and made to respond with something, anything…but Darcy couldn't find her voice.

She offered them an awkward smile as they ushered past her. Sam squeezed her shoulder warmly before he departed. And suddenly, she really wanted to ask him for a hug. It hit her, as was typical when she is having a dark period, that Darcy couldn't remember the last time she hugged someone. And then she thought of her dad, who always gave the best hugs – thought maybe she should call him but talked herself out of it. She didn't turn around while Sam's hand was on her shoulder, didn't want him to see her when she started to cry.


On Thursday Darcy didn't leave her room.

Jarvis wasn't sure if he was necessarily capable of being concerned. But for the last four weeks and three days, the AI had been noticing several alarming abnormalities in Darcy Lewis's behavior.

When he first detected this spike in behavior change, he searched the memory files he had stored of her to see if he could detect a pattern. He found that Miss Lewis had, in fact, experienced such abnormalities in the past but he had failed to flag them as important; They appeared to happen erratically and with no obvious catalyzing event. At least of what he was able to detect. It was quite possible Jarvis was missing a valuable data point.

The AI wasn't sure if he was capable of being concerned, but he had carefully reviewed all of the published works in the most notable psychology databases, as well as several excerpts from Winnie the Pooh. And all of them indicated that the behaviors he was detecting in Darcy Lewis were textbook causes for concern and intervention from someone who was capable of such things, of course.

First, he tried to alert Dr. Foster. But she was engrossed in her work and did not hear his calls.

Then he tried to tell Sir, but he told Jarvis that whatever he had to tell him would have to wait until he and Pepper got back from Mumbai.

Dr. Banner was away with Agents Romanov and Barton, so he ruled them out as possibilities.

Senior Airman Wilson was, quite possibly, the most qualified resident of the Tower to speak with Miss Lewis, but he too had left for training under the instruction of Colonel Rhodes.

Not for the first time, Jarvis very much regretted that he did not have a corporeal form.

Then as though the man had sensed the AI's dilemma, Captain Roger's called out to him from Subsection 7 – the shooting range where he had spent the better part of his morning.

"Yes, Captain Rogers?" He responded to the call.

He carefully placed the orders in that the Captain requested from him and made a couple of notes on the equipment files for the Captain's later review.

Just as the man bid him thanks in polite dismissal, Jarvis decided it was best to alert the man to his findings sooner rather than later.

"Captain Rogers, if I may…" He always experienced a bit of hesitation when he stretched his limits past the original parameters of his code.

The Captain though looked up at the ceiling, as he always did when speaking to the AI, and nodded.

"Go ahead, Jarvis."

"I hope I am not speaking out of turn, Sir… but I have noticed a number of behavioral abnormalities in Miss Lewis…"

"Abnormalities, Jarvis?" Steve asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, Captain. Everything I have detected in her behaviors as of late is symptomatic of a number of very serious conditions. After several weeks of research and suggesting to Miss Lewis herself that she seek out the assistance of a professional to no avail, I fear that she may be suffering from some sort of depressive or anxiety disorder. Quite possibly both."

Steve's eyebrows shot up to his hairline as he wracked his brain for the last time he saw Darcy.

"Not that I'm not grateful you brought to my attention, Jarvis," Steve said. "But why, exactly, are you telling me? Isn't there someone else a little more qualified…?"

If an AI could sound exasperated…

"Well Captain after several attempts to alert Dr. Foster and examining all possible options – most of whom are currently away from the tower on official business – I found the number of qualified people considerably diminished," he said. "And in the time it has taken for someone to notice, I fear that Miss Lewis has become increasingly isolated."

Steve processed the information Jarvis had dropped into his lap with a furrowed brow.

The AI spoke again after a beat.

"Captain…I know that you do not think yourself qualified to help Miss Lewis but it is to my understanding that quite often it is the presence of a friend that makes all the difference to a person who is hurting."

"You're not wrong," Steve said quietly before shaking his head.


Later that day, Steve knocked gently on the door to Darcy's apartment. No one answered. He knocked again before Jarvis piped up.

"Captain Rogers, Miss Lewis has asked me to inform you that she's contracted a stomach bug and that it would be best if you stay away. She does not want to be responsible for getting you sick."

Steve rolled his eyes.

"Tell her I can't get sick."

"I did, sir. She says that you shouldn't have to be subjected to her 'gross sick face."

Steve sighed and leaned his head against the door jamb.

"She's lying, right? Jarvis?"

"I'm afraid I cannot answer that question at this time, Captain."

He nodded and pushed off the wall, then raising his voice so she could hear him from the hallway.

"Be back tomorrow Darce. I'll bring ya some broth."


On Friday, Darcy ordered a pizza. She selected a movie to watch and proceeded to move her whole bedroom into her living room. Creating a tiny nest of sadness on her couch.

Even though she had showered again, for warmth mostly, Darcy still felt greasy. Her lips were chapped despite the chapstick. And her teeth felt gross in her mouth even though she'd brushed them twice.

She had on a baggy old crewneck and a pair of pajama shorts; thermal socks covered her toes.

A knock at the door.

"Your pizza, Miss Lewis," Jarvis said.

"Thank you, J."

She climbed off her couch and dragged her feet to the door, tugging self-consciously at her attire. Knowing she looked like shit. She threw the door open and came face to face with a determined-looking Steve Rogers, holding her box of pizza and what looked like a box of donuts on top. In that brief moment, Darcy's emotions fluctuated so quickly that her face and mind blanked out. When she spoke her voice had no affect.

Steve had stood there and she couldn't decide if she wanted to cry or vomit, hug him and laugh or slam the door in his face. And then she felt so monumentally guilty because there was no way Captain America just had spare time in his day to come over and coddle her. Yet there he was. She was a selfish friend, she decided, but she wanted him to stay.

Steve watched his friend shut down before his eyes but didn't comment. Instead, he offered her a cheeky grin.

"Gonna let me in?"

There was a conflict in her eyes, and for a second he thought she would tell him no.

But then she held the door open a little wider and allowed him to pass. Without asking he went straight to the living room, dumped their food on the coffee table and plopped down on the couch. He didn't comment on the nest of sadness, but he did raise his eyebrows at the choice of movie. She sat tensely next to him.

"Schindler's List, Darcy?"

"It's a classic film, Steven."

"It's a bit…morbid." He looked at her with his concerned puppy dog eyes.

"Yes, it is."

"Mind if we watch something a little more uplifting?"

"Yes."

Steve narrowed his eyes at Darcy. Darcy looked at her toes.

"It's a good movie for crying."

"Yes, it is, but how about we cry at something other than genocide today?" Darcy looked at him then.

"Like Pearl Harbor?"

"Okay, Darce, how about – for my sake – we avoid any and all crying that is related to the war. Would that be alright with you?" He said half-jokingly. "In general, let's avoid anything that involves the senseless killing of innocent people."

She sniffed and shrugged. She was bundled up in her blankets, and tenser than when they'd been at the door. Steve wrapped a long arm around her and pulled her effortlessly against his chest, cuddling her close without comment.

They swapped out Schindler's List for Steel Magnolias. Darcy ugly cried, Steve wouldn't admit it, but he wiped away a few tears of his own too.

On Saturday, Captain America was called away to help The Black Widow and Hawkeye out of a rough spot – all of them wanting to avoid a code green.

Darcy spent another day hiding in her apartment. No one knocked on her door and she hated that she was self-absorbed enough to think any of them had time to notice her at all.

Sunday passed much the same.

On Monday, Darcy considered calling in sick. Then she remembered who she worked for and decided it was best that she go in if only the make sure the labs didn't crumble in her absence.

She tugged on an old pair of jeans and a sweater, before heading to the elevator. Put in her headphones so she didn't have to talk to anyone.

She leaned against the back of the elevator as it descended, groaning when it paused before her stop. The doors opened to reveal Steve Rogers and Bruce Banner, looking beyond tired. Bruce was clad in a pair of spare sweatpants and a hoodie; Steve had the top half of his suit undone, his shield resting on his forearm. She nodded at them but didn't turn off her music.

Steve looked at her, his lips moving. She squinted and shook her head, before tearing out one of her earbuds.

"What?" She asked him. "I couldn't hear you."

"I asked what you were listening to." His voice was warm.

"Oh…um. Tears for Fears."

"Pardon?"

"You know…Tears for Fears." He shrugged. "Everybody Wants to Rule the World?"

He smiled apologetically and shook his head at her.

Darcy sighed and pulled her iPhone out of her pocket, restarted the song, and offered him one of her earbuds. He had to do a wall sit to even out their heights, but he accepted the offer nonetheless.

They stayed in the elevator until the song finished playing.