Great Grandpa Lewis

Darcy was face down on a sparring mat when her phone rang the first time. Her arms were twisted behind her back, ponytail falling out, cheek squished up awkwardly due to how she was pressed.

Clint was waiting patiently for her to make her next move.

She tried to shake his hold on her wrists. She couldn't twist her torso without hurting her arms and couldn't throw her head back to hit him without screwing up her neck.

With a grunt and a sigh, she decided she had no choice but to tap out.

"Time out, Clint," Her voice was muffled by the mat.

His grip loosened as he shifted off her and walked over to their water bottles, bringing hers to where she was rolling over onto her back.

Her phone rang again, and Darcy shifted up to go grab it, but Clint blocked her path with a stern look and a raised brow.

"Nuh uh, Darce. From the moment you walk into this gym 'til the moment you walk out your ass belongs to your trainer."

"But that's the second time—"

"Who's your trainer, Darcy?"

She glared at him.

"Who is your trainer?"

"You are." She said begrudgingly.

"Yes I am. And what is it that your trainer is trying to do here today and every day that you are in this gym?"

"Clint." She growled.

"Tell me, Darcy," He said with a smirk. He knew he was being an asshole.

"You're trying to teach me how to survive my own lack of self-preservation in the hope that I can hold out until help arrives."

"That's right. And sometimes that means you're gonna have to ignore your phone."

She rolled her eyes as he nodded back toward the mat.

"Now, let's try that move again but this time you're going to walk me through it. Tell me why you thought you couldn't break it before. You successfully break away once, and you can check your phone. Deal?"

She didn't see the glint of pride in his eyes as she moved back to the mat. Darcy may not have been a great technical fighter – she had no desire to be – but she was scrappy and far more intelligent than she gave herself credit for. Clint couldn't wait for the day that she saw herself for what she could do.

Once, twice more she ended up in the same position. Walked through her doubts with Clint and listened to his feedback. She let him manipulate her body from where she was stuck and tried to commit it to memory.

On the third try, she watched him come at her and it felt like the world had slowed. He swept her legs out from underneath her – Darcy saw it coming but still wasn't quick enough to dodge it. She let her body go limp as she fell, saw him moving in to grab her arms and flip her. But this time, instead of trying to turn and get up off the ground as she had been doing before, she threw her hands up into his own reach. He caught her right hand but didn't get ahold of her left as it went up and jammed his nose. His head snapped back – partially to lessen the blow he saw coming and partially from the force of her hand. She used his distraction to wrap a leg around his knees. He buckled and she rolled them.

So focused on stopping Clint, Darcy didn't notice that she had him on his back. Didn't notice that she gained the upper hand until the whistles and shouts broke out around her. She stopped her momentum and looked up to see Nat and Bucky had stopped sparring to cheer for her, Sam was wolf whistling while he unwound the tape from his hands, Tony was smirking – leaning on the ropes of the ring with his phone camera pointed toward her and Clint.

Darcy looked back at Clint, eyes wide, to find him smiling up at her proudly…through the blood pouring out of his nose.

"Oh shit, you're bleeding!" Darcy clambered off him and waved her hands frantically over his face, wanting to help but not knowing what to do.

He laughed out loud before hopping up and walking over to his bag. Grabbing a towel, he wiped most of it off his face.

"I am so sorry Clint. I didn't even think," She wrung her hands nervously next to him. "It's not broken is it?"

"Nah Darce, not broken."

"I really am sorry!"

"Darcy," He looked at her then, dried blood still clinging to parts of his face, with a toothy grin. "You did good."

"But your face—"

"Barely hurts, kid. Think of it as a bruise. How many bruises you got on your body since we started with your training?" He didn't wait for her answer.

"A lot, right? And sometimes they really fucking hurt and others you don't know you have 'em. That's how this goes. We never mean to get hurt during training. It's not ideal…but when you're practicing to face someone who will kill you without a second thought, sometimes you hurt the people you're practicing with. It's a bloody nose Darcy. I've had so much worse from people I was a lot less proud of."

She shrugged and smiled hesitantly up at him. He squeezed her shoulder before nodding to her bag.

"Your phone's still goin off."

"Oh shit."

Arthur Lewis was traditionally a soft-spoken man. Since he was young, he'd always been content to sit back and let others do the talking – unless the talking they did was complete and utter nonsense in which case he had an obligation to tell them that their opinions were bullshit.

In action he was much the same, he was content to take a slower approach to life. Arthur was a man of the greatest generation, a man who knew struggle intimately, knew the seduction of a fast-paced life and trying to keep up with the Joneses. More importantly, Arthur Lewis knew what it was to try to keep up and fail miserably.

He was an old man now, or so he'd been told. And for years he had spent his life perfectly content to sit back and do old man things. Like sit in his recliner and watch the television until the infomercials rolled on every channel. He took two trips to the donut shop – every day – to buy his lotto ticket, an apple fritter, and catch up with Seymore, David and Larry on the local gossip.

He spent every Wednesday afternoon with his youngest great grandchild, little Charlie, when he got out of school. The two of them – one 96 years old, the other only 9 – would sit at the kitchen table with peanut butter-marshmallow graham crackers and an old chess board. They'd sit there for hours and shoot the shit, as men do.

What the family didn't know is that Arthur Lewis had lulled them into complacency – had allowed them to fatten him with their Saturday gluttony and quality time with their progeny. He gleefully accepted their fancy recliner and HDTV respectively for his sciatica and for the luxury.

They thought he dutifully spent his allowance on gas and apple fritters. Bought him scratchers for every birthday, but he never told them when he won. Laughed when he held up a penny and claimed he was rich. They didn't know that when little Charlie searched for loose change in the cushions of his Papa's recliner and the floor underneath, the youngest member and oldest member of the family split the loot fifty-fifty.

What Arthur thought most significant, was that the family failed to remember that in order to survive his childhood he had to be cunning, shrewd, and incredibly responsible with every penny, nickel and dime – if he was even so lucky as to have a dime to spare that is.

Arthur Lewis had a keen awareness of the things his family tried to hide from him – or protect him from – as they liked to phrase it.

He knew Charlie had a problem sitting still in the classroom and that he often got in trouble – knew that his parents had tried several different medications and therapists to no avail. He knew they thought him naïve when he told them how focused their kid got when he plopped down in front of the chess board.

He knew the family was throwing him a surprise party for his 97th birthday in two days' time. And even more than that, he knew that none of them had bothered to call his only great granddaughter to invite her to the affair. Arthur had gathered some time ago that Darcy had some sort of falling out with the family in her last year of college. Darcy had stopped by the house to talk to him about the struggles she was facing, but they were interrupted quite rudely by her mother and father who had felt Darcy was causing Arthur undue stress.

Darcy had apologized to him, kissed him on the cheek, and told him she'd call him when she got to New Mexico to tell him all about her new internship.

He's sorry to say he missed that call, but he saved the voicemail.

In the few times he had seen her since. The girl had lost weight, her eyes had been heavier, her smile a little wan.

It had been a few years now since Arthur had seen Darcy last – he recalled the awkward family dinner where his children and grandchildren shot looks and whispers to each other the whole night about her. A black sheep, much like he had been back in the day. None of them could understand where her head was at when Darcy decided to move to London in lieu of finishing her last semester of college. Where they saw ungrateful and entitled in his favorite girl, Arthur had seen something in her he had hoped to never see in any of them ever. Arthur looked at her and saw battle fatigue. Tried and true.

Rattled as he was that day, he knew he'd have to do something. Step in as best as he could. After some time scrounging and saving, Great Grandpa Lewis packed a small bag and bought a ticket.

He got off the train at Grand Central, pulled out his cellular phone and dialed her number by memory. Once. Twice. Five times, he called her. He left a couple voicemails and found a nice bench. He was a patient man. And he knew Darcy would come in time. Always moved at her own pace, that one.

Back at Avenger's Tower, Darcy had turned a sick shade of green. Looked at the time stamp on her list of missed phone calls. Held the voicemail back up to her ear. When she was done listening, she slid her phone into her back pocket with a false sense of calmness, reached down for her messenger bag and slung it up on her shoulder.

"Hot date?" Tony asked from where he and Sam had decided they didn't really want to work out.

"Yeah..." Darcy said but her mind was elsewhere.

"Is everything ok, Darcy?" Sam asked with a wrinkled brow.

"Huh?" She snapped her head around to look at them. "Yeah. Yep, everything is…cool."

Then she turned around and strode toward the door. Ignoring Clint's shout that she wasn't done for the day.

She was halfway down the hall when he caught up to her, keeping pace easily.

"Your ass is still mine, Lewis."

"I'll make it up later, Barton."

"No excuses."

"Not making any."

"Fair. But are you or are you not currently trying to ditch out on me?" He said with a raised eyebrow.

"Not ditching, just prioritizing."

"And what exactly could take priority over your ability to keep yourself alive, might I ask?" He scoffed good naturedly and bumped her shoulder.

Darcy gritted her teeth and exhaled through her nose.

"My great grandpa."

Clint stuttered for a second and stopped walking before hustling again to catch up with Darcy as she entered the elevator and hit the button for the Lobby.

"Is he alright? What do you need?"

"No. Clint, nothing like… happened to him. He just apparently decided to run away."

He barked out a surprised laugh before stifling it under her glare.

"Sorry," he coughed. "Seriously, anything I can do? Maybe help you track him down?"

"I don't need help tracking him Clint." Darcy sighed. "He's the one who called me. I've been ignoring my 96-year-old great grandpa for like forty minutes and he's all alone at the train station because apparently he decided it'd be cool to just show up unannounced and stay with me."

"Oh…" Clint scratched his chin. "And this is a bad thing?"

He grunted when her fist made contact with his gut and grabbed her wrist before she could swing again.

"It's not exactly cool that he's stranded right now Clint!" Darcy said.

"No, that part I get," he conceded. "That part is fucked up. And like 17 percent my fault."

"17 Perc—!"

"But isn't it kind of cool that you get to see your great grandfather?"

The elevator doors pinged open at the lobby and he stepped aside so she could exit ahead of him. She shrugged and ducked her head as they made their way outside to try and get a cab at the curb.

"It's not that I don't want to see him…it's just complicated."

Clint waved his hand to get her to continue.

"Last time I saw him the whole family was mad because I was quitting school. I came off as like a vapid, ungrateful bitch when I told them I was going off to London instead. And that was years ago. We haven't talked much since then. I let a lot of people down."

"I'm sure you've been able to clear the air a bit…"

"No, I haven't Clint. I'm like drowning in NDA's and to be honest I don't know how to start the whole 'I live with the Avenger's' conversation with any of them anyway."

"Wait," Clint dropped a hand onto her shoulder. "If they don't know you live here, where do they think you live?"

"Never gave them details. Only ever told them New York."

He looked at her for a moment with an expression she couldn't read. Before he shook his head and hailed a cab.

Clint didn't really know what to expect of Arthur Lewis. He'd never heard much about the man, except for a brief perusal of Darcy's known associates and family members back when he was working in New Mexico. Never really paid them any mind after that.

So, when he followed Darcy into the train station, he wasn't sure what to make of the man sitting on a bench near the main entrance. He was shorter now than he probably had been back in the day, coming up just under Darcy's height of 5'6 or so what with the slight hunch he walked with. He wore his trousers belted high on his waist, and a collared shirt. His flat cap rested on a coat on top of his small carry-on suitcase. But even from where Clint stood, a few feet behind Darcy, he could see that Arthur had sharp brown eyes that studied everything. His voice was warm and inviting when he called out to his nervous wreck of a great granddaughter.

"Is that my favorite great grandgirl I see?" He called out and stood with a surprising amount of agility.

He opened his arms wide and squeezed her tight when she reached him.

"I'm your only great grandgirl, Pops."

"And I'm so glad you are." He chuckled and pressed a kiss into her hair. They held onto each other for a moment while Clint looked on. Startled when he realized that Great Grandpa Lewis had locked his eyes on him. Clint nodded at him and gave a polite smile, Arthur's eyes crinkled mischievously in turn before releasing Darcy.

"You gonna introduce me to the boy or not, Darcy-lou?"

Darcy paused and looked down at him in confusion.

"Boy..?"

Clint cleared his throat behind her, and her eyes widened as she looked back and forth between her great grandpa and her friend.

"Oh! What? Ew..no Pops," Darcy jerked a thumb in Clint's direction. "Me and him. We're only friends."

"Only friends huh?" He gave her a skeptical look.

She laughed and nudged him gently.

"Yes. Friends. This is Clint," She said.

"Clint, meet my great grandfather, Arthur Lewis." She smiled brightly at the introduction and watched the two shake hands.

"Nice to meet you, sir." Clint smiled.

Arthur returned the smile and reached back to grab his stuff from the bench.

"Call me Arthur."

"Pops I got the bag. Let me carry it." Darcy took the bag from him and turned to lead them to the exit when Clint swooped in and took the bag from her before she could blink.

Arthur chuckled at the look of surprise on Darcy's face before patting Clint on the arm.

"Good man," he said before offering Darcy his arm.

"Pops people don't do that anymore," she said with a small, exasperated smile.

"I beg to differ. I used to offer you my arm all the time when you were little." Darcy started to protest but he continued. "And the very fact that I am doing it now, proves that people still do it. Or am I not people now that I'm old?"

He gave her the stink eye until she caved, intertwined their arms and walked with him out toward the street with Clint keeping pace beside them.

They got a cab and climbed in. Clint claiming the front seat while the other two sat in the back.

"Haven't been here in ages." Arthur said as he looked out the window, up at the high rises and the passersby.

"I never knew you'd been to New York." Darcy murmured next to him.

He looked back at her with a wide smile and a glint in his eye.

"Oh-ho you bet I have." He laughed to himself and shook his head before looking back out at all the sights.

"A lot has changed since then. Not the same place anymore. Not really."

"So, I should probably tell you before we get there," Darcy hesitated until he focused his attention on her, then she soldiered on.

"I haven't told the family all that much," She said.

"What about?"

"Well, Pops…you remember Jane, right? My boss from New Mexico."

"Of course. The crazy science lady. She doesn't eat properly; it was a whole ordeal. Had your grandmother in a tizzy trying to make you all sorts of snacks to ship down there."

Clint snorted in the front seat.

"Yeah, that's Jane," Darcy said flatly. "But anyway, she's kind of a big deal in the science community now and since we became close, she kinda keeps me in her contracts so I don't get lost in the shuffle."

"Mhmm" He gestured for her to get to the point.

"Well, Jane got offered a really great gig and she brought me along with her. And one of the perks is I got to live in her building for free."

"You're living on charity?" His voice was high. "You need money? If you needed money, Darcy, you should have called me. How much do you need?"

He reached in his pocket and pulled out his money clip. Darcy didn't bother to point out that he was on a fixed income. Instead, she gently lowered his arm and folded the cash he offered her back into his fist.

"No..that's not really what I was getting to. I earn my keep and I don't owe any one anything. Tony would probably be insulted if I offered to pay anyway."

"Tony? Who is this Tony? I thought you live with Jane."

"I do! Sort of. We're on the same floor but in different apartments. I guess what I am trying to tell you—"

"And failing to tell him." Clint commented dryly from the front seat.

"What I am trying to tell you is that I live in Avenger's Tower."

She looked over at her Pops who was holding a crumpled five-dollar bill loosely in his outstretched hand.

"Avenger's tow—" he spluttered. "Avenger's tower? Darcy. My Darcy? I knew you were special, but a superhero?"

"Wait…what?" Darcy said.

"My great granddaughter is an Avenger." He beamed and reached across to smack the driver on the shoulder. "You hear that? My great granddaughter is a superhero."

"Whoa Pops, no. I am not a superhero."

"Oh, don't sell yourself short to me, Darcy-Lou."

"No Pops, I'm serious. I just…live with them. With the Avengers. I work for them kind of. But I'm not like a part of the team or anything.." Darcy laughed nervously and looked at Clint for help.

But he didn't turn around or acknowledge her, simply tried to hide the fact that his shoulders were shaking from laughter.

The cab pulled in front of the building. Clint paid the driver much to Arthur's chagrin and held the door open for the two Lewises. Arthur stalled them on the sidewalk, looking up at the behemoth that was the tower in complete astonishment.

"My Darcy lives here." He chuckled to himself and hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. "If only Ma could see me now," he said more to himself than to Darcy and Clint before turning his beaming smile on the two of them.

"After you," he said to Darcy.

They made their way into the lobby and toward the private elevators. She whispered to Clint while Pops was distracted.

"How am I even gonna get him up there? It's not like he has the clearance. Jarvis probably won't even start the elevator…" She bit her lip nervously and fidgeted while they waited for the doors to open.

"Don't worry about it." Clint said easily.

"How're you so calm? I'm freakin out here."

He looked at her incredulously.

"You may not have that kind of pull around here, kid. But I do." At her blank look he scoffed. "Have some faith. I'm a lot more than a pretty face you know. I texted Happy the details – he's getting a badge printed and sent up to your apartment right now. Jarvis is already expecting us. Relax."

After Darcy got Arthur settled in her guest room, he told her to go off and get her work done for the day – that he needed to get cleaned up and take a nap after all the travelling he'd done. She conceded and made her way toward the labs to see if any of the resident geniuses needed anything.

On her way down, she shot a text to her dad, letting him know where Pops was in case the old geezer didn't bother to tell anyone. Right after she finished sending the text, her screen lit up with her mother's face on it. Darcy cringed but accepted the call.

"Hey mom."

"He's there?!"

"Yeah, Pops is here."

"Put him on the phone."

"Uh, sorry mom no can do. He's sleeping and I am actually just heading into work."

"Did you know about this Darcy? Why wouldn't you tell anyone? He's too old to be travelling by himself. Anything could have happened. How could you be so irresponsible?"

"Whoa, mom, way to spiral." Darcy said, hackles rising, as she decided to take the stairs to burn off some of her energy.

"I had no idea he was planning this," Darcy said. "I was at the gym and he called me from freaking Grand Central."

"Well, your father and I are going to come up there and get him. He shouldn't be alone."

"Wait. What? Mom, no. He's not alone, he's with me. Relax. I know it's a bit of a shock, but he obviously needed to get away and he made it here. Now he's safe and I'll look out for him. You don't need to come out here."

"What, you don't want to see your mother?"

"That's not what I said, and you know it."

There was a loaded silence on the other line, before her mother spoke up again.

"Your father wants to talk to you."

Darcy made it to the door of Tony's lab and leaned her forehead on the glass to watch while he, Bucky and Steve talked about something over Bucky's arm.

"Hey sweetie," Her dad's voice was warm when he spoke, and she could tell by his tone that he'd taken the phone somewhere her mother wasn't.

"Hey." She said to him, opening the door when Tony nodded at her in permission to enter.

She plopped down on a stool next to where the three were huddled.

"Sorry about your mom, you know how she gets."

"I do."

"I take it, Pops surprised you too?" She snorted at the ridiculousness of his question. "Let me know if you need anything. If you need me to go out there, I will. No questions asked. If you got it handled, then just try to have some fun. Spend time with him. His birthday is two days from now, you remember?"

"Yeah, dad." She took a pretzel from the bag Tony shoved her way. "I remember. I'll bake him a cake or something. It'll be fun."

"Love you, kiddo."

"Love you," She hung up and let her phone clatter loudly on the counter surface.

"Trouble in family land?" Tony asked nonchalantly.

"You have no idea," she said leaning over to get a better view of what he was doing to Bucky's arm.

"Does that hurt?" She asked Bucky.

"Twinges a bit, but for the most part no," He said with a slight grimace.

"No deflecting in my lab, Lewis. That's my job." Tony said, waving a screwdriver in her direction.

"What's going on with Mommy and Daddy?"

"Nothing, Stark." She sighed.

He coughed out bullshit and Steve stifled his own smirk with a disapproving glare.

"Seriously, with them…It's nothing out of the ordinary. Great Grandpa Lewis on the other hand…" She rubbed her face warily and accepted another pretzel.

"He kinda ran away from home."

Steve snorted and choked on the water he was drinking. Bucky and Tony both looked up at her incredulously.

"He what now?"

"He ran away."

"Your great grandfather?"

"Yes."

"Do we know where?"

"Here."

All three of them just looked at her at that point.

She nodded; her lips pressed thin from the stress.

"He's taking a nap in my guest room." She shrugged. "He had a long day."

"I'd say so," Stark said bluntly. "Jesus, how old is the guy anyway?"

"96." She said. "97 in like two days."

"And he ran away because…" Tony asked.

"Remains to be seen, Stark. That remains to be seen."

There was really nothing more to say so they kind of just went back to what they were doing. Tony focused more intently on Bucky's arm, while Bucky sat there patiently if a bit uncomfortable.

Darcy and Steve talked about her time in the gym that morning with Clint. He asked her how she felt about the progress she'd made, and she told him that it all kind of felt accidental. He pursed his lips at that but didn't comment. She asked Tony if there was anything he needed help with for the day but he told her no, that she should just take the day off. She rolled her eyes at him and told them she was going to check on Jane and Bruce.

Darcy had taken one look at Bruce with his bloodshot eyes and rumpled hair before swooping in and picking up the stacks of papers he had written in god knows what amount of time.

"These ready for proofing?" she asked him lightly as she tugged him out of his chair.

He nodded wearily and went to take them from her.

"I'm almost done. I just need to make a few annotations before I stop."

"Annotations can come later. I'll give 'em a cursory glance and make sure that there aren't any glaring errors on the non-science side." She shoved him out the door and told him to get at least two hours before he came back down. He smiled in tired thanks and turned toward the elevator. Darcy took his stack of papers and curled up on the couch he had in the corner, marking the paper for him to review later on.

An hour or so later, Darcy made her way down the corridor to Jane's lab with a cup of coffee in each hand.

Jane didn't look up when Darcy came in, but her nose twitched at the smell of coffee and she grunted a half human greeting.

"If you want me to give you the coffee you have to back away from the science, Janie."

The woman clenched her pen frustratedly in her hand before releasing it and sighing. She stood from her desk and tried in vain to straighten her clothes. Genius she may be, but Jane wasn't ever gonna be put together for anything.

Darcy handed over a mug and they both leaned on the designated sustenance counter.

"So, Pops is here then?" Jane said, her voice grainy from lack of use.

"Pops is here."

"How'd he take the whole Avengers thing?"

"Well, considering the fact that he thought I was an Avenger for like a whole two minutes. Pretty well."

Jane blinked but didn't question it.

"So…what are you gonna do?"

Darcy shrugged.

"Gonna hang out with my great grandpa."

"Cool."

"His birthday is in two days. Should probably throw him a party. Is that weird?"

"Why would it be weird?"

"Because he doesn't like know anybody and it seems weird to be like 'hey, superbunch, let's celebrate this old dude you don't know."

Jane snorted.

"I think that's a bit melodramatic. Besides, Tony never turns down the opportunity to party. Thor will probably think it a 'most wonderous occasion' and everyone else will tag along because they don't have anything better to do anyway."

"Guess you have a point."

Jane squeezed her hand and turned to go back to her work. Darcy asked her if she needed anything and Jane shook her head. Before she left, Darcy threw a pop tart in the toaster and popcorn in the microwave for the physicist to grab when she came up for air.

By the time Darcy made it back to her apartment that day, the sun was beginning to set on the skyline. What she hadn't been anticipating was for Pops to pull another disappearing act so soon.

"Jarvis?"

"Miss Lewis."

"Do you know where my Pops went?"

"Mr. Lewis is currently in the communal living area."

"Thanks J."

When she entered the communal area, it was to a chorus of voices coming from the kitchen.

Seated around the kitchen table were Thor, Steve, Bucky, and Sam. All of whom were facing away from her. And even though she couldn't see him behind the sheer mass of muscle that surrounded him, Pops' voice stood out from them all.

"Bah. No, no. The bread down on 7th was no good. Bergstein down on 56th and U St. Now he had the good stuff." He slammed his hand emphatically on the table to punctuate the statement over the sound of Bucky's scoff.

"Get outta here, Lewis. Murray's place on 7th always had the best soda bread," Bucky retorted.

"Soda bread?" Arthur's voice sounded mildly appalled, but his smile was warm. "Why waste your time with soda bread? Bergstein always gave the quiet kids an extra loaf of challah for the holidays."

"There's your problem, Buck." Steve cracked. "You ain't ever been quiet a day in your life."

"Yeah, it ain't got nothin to do with my being Catholic at all." He rolled his eyes but smirked.

"Eh. You're young." Arthur said to Bucky then. Waving off the pair of supersoldiers when they pointed out they were born years before he was. "Yes, yes of course. But you have so much time left to live. You've got time. Time enough to become nice Jewish boys so one of you can marry my Darcy-Lou."

Darcy jumped at shift in the conversation, stepping fully into the room with a twitching eye.

"Pops!"

They all turned to look at her as she strode over to where they sat. Steve offered her his chair before moving around the table to take a harder to reach one.

"You can't go trying to marry me off as a conversion tactic!" She plopped down into the seat and gave the old man the stink eye.

He waved her comments off nonchalantly.

"You're the best girl any of these young fools are gonna set their eyes on. And besides, all Catholics are already Jewish at heart! They might as well embrace their roots!"

Darcy pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled slowly.

"There is so much in that statement that I wish I could unpack with you—"

But she was cut off by Barnes making another smart-ass comment, she held up her hand to shush him before continuing.

"And more importantly, Pops. You're an atheist!"

"Eh. So what? I'm a Jewish Atheist."

"What does it matter if they're Catholic or Jewish before they marry me." She raised her eyebrow before catch the shit eating grin on Barnes's face, she turned to glare at him. "Which is not on the table, by the way."

"Well Darcy, these are your roots!" Arthur waved his hands dramatically. "You need a man who understands them! Tell me who will light the candles on Hanukkah if you marry a Catholic?"

"I'm not marrying a Catholic!" She yelled trying to hold back the laughter bubbling in her chest. "I'm not getting married at all! And what candles Pops? No one in the family even owns a menorah!"

"But you might buy one someday," he said with a glint in his eye. "What if I buy you a menorah. Would you not light the menorah your great grandfather gave to you?"

If there was any question about where Darcy got her affinity for hyperbole, Arthur's arrival at the tower cleared it up real quick.

"Pops you don't own a menorah. You're probably not even gonna buy one because as I mentioned before – you're a goddam atheist!" She shrieked in a loving way, a way that spoke of the comforts of family…

"Yes, yes. I am an atheist!" He growled out with a roll of his eyes. "But I became an atheist in the 70's. I was going through a phase. Before that though Darcy-Lou, before that I was a Jew. And back when I was young, we lived in the neighborhood, in the Jewish part of Brooklyn. We didn't mix much back in those days with the likes of those Micks over there." He winked and nodded at Bucky and Steve who both nodded along in an off mixture of fondness and solemnity.

Darcy just brought her face down to her palm and groaned, muttering exasperatedly into her hand that their Jewish family had celebrated Christmas since before she was born. That they went to go to the tree farm and hung stockings over the fireplace, and they never celebrated Hanukkah because it meant they had to see each other more often… which was just too much to fathom at the end of the day.

She didn't bother look up when Thor clapped a reassuring hand on her back and rubbed between her shoulder blades comfortingly. She knew the big oaf was thoroughly enjoying getting to know a member of her family. The conversation continued around her.

The next morning found Darcy in her gym clothes, tying her hair up in a knot and lacing her shoes. Arthur emerged from the guest bedroom fully dressed and ready for the day.

"Gotta head down to the gym for training with Clint for a few hours," She told him distractedly as she filled her water bottle.

He watched her from where he leaned on her counter.

"Training? What are you training for?"

"It's just basic self-defense," She shrugged.

"You know how to use a gun properly, yet?" He asked. "They train you in that?"

Darcy blushed and side eyed him.

"Uh yeah…yep. Been to the range once or twice."

"Only once or twice?" He huffed. "They've got you out here living with superheroes, getting attacked by who knows what and they don't teach you to use a gun?"

"Well, you know... I don't even believe in guns all that much Pops." Darcy gave him a teasing smile. "Besides I'm more of a taser girl, really. Ask Thor about it. He enjoys telling the story more than I do."

"I want to come to your training today." He had an odd look in his eye, but she chose not to comment. Telling herself there wasn't much more the old guy could have up his sleeve anyway.

She was only minutes into her warmup when Darcy decided that Arthur Lewis and Steve Rogers were far too chummy for their own good. And they needed to stop glancing over at her while she was on the treadmill. She was getting paranoid.

Not long after, she looked more beat up than the punching bag Clint had stationed her at.

And sometime after that, she decided that Clint joining in on Steve and Arthur's little buddy fest was gonna be the death of her. God, she wished she could read lips, but every time she even tried Clint's laser focus was back on her with a glare that told her any more distracted looks would get her an extra hour at his mercy.

Another twenty minutes of punching and kicking that stupid bag before Clint sauntered over to her and held it steady.

"Time's up, kid."

She glanced at the clock on the wall.

"Not according to the clock and that stupid schedule you made me memorize…" He quirked his lips and she wondered if she should be scared.

"Yeah, well we're taking a bit of a field trip." He jerked his head back in Arthur and Steve's direction before hefting her gym bag over his shoulder.

"And where, might I ask, are we all heading?" She was trying to keep her stomach from dropping prematurely.

"Subsection 7." And there went her stomach.

"Oh no. Clint. No." She started, and he sighed before gently grabbing her elbow and shooting her a pitying look.

"There was a consensus," She said. "No guns for Darcy. Darcy and guns are a huge no-no. Did you hit your head on your last mission? I can call Sam and he'll remind you."

"Look Darce."

"Don't 'look, Darce' me, Clint."

"Arthur made some valid points about why you should at least have a basic understanding of guns."

"But—"

"And it's not like that wasn't the initial purpose of our last visit to the range…"

Darcy didn't bother to coherently comment, choosing instead to grumble at him while she grabbed a drink of water.

"It would have eventually been revisited when you had a little more training under your belt. Anyway, you have become significantly less clumsy since then."

"Still a klutz, Clint. I'm gonna end up tripping and blowing off someone's kneecaps. Or worse!"

"We'll take baby steps." He slung his arm over her shoulders comfortingly as they followed Steve and Arthur to the elevator that would take her to Subsection 7.

"This is a stupid idea."

"No kid, it's not, we just gotta work on your headspace a little bit. None of this training is gonna mean much at all to you unless you believe it worked."

She didn't bother responding to that, just leaned her head against the wall while they waited for the doors to open on their floor.

When they entered the actual range portion of Subsection 7, Darcy was dismayed to realize it was during prime training hours. Several security team members took up the stalls by entrance, the noise from the guns themselves was only mildly muted by the bulky weight of the hearing protection Clint had shoved on her head. He kept a steady hand on her back as he led her to the far side of the range where one man stood apart from everyone else.

She was grateful for how empty everything was on his end.

"Called Barnes in to help," Clint had told her before they went in.

He had also asked Arthur and Steve to stay behind while he worked with her. They didn't put up a fuss, but Darcy had a feeling they were watching her through the two-way mirror that faced the targets. Still…if she tried hard enough, she could pretend that they weren't there to witness another colossal failure.

Barnes stopped shooting as they approached and turned to face them with a warm look in his eyes. No smile in public…he didn't want to security team getting any ideas that he was a nice person or anything.

Darcy rolled her eyes at the thought but smiled nervously back at him.

"Ready, doll?"

She looked between him and Clint, literally the two best marksmen in recorded world history, and worried her lip.

"Is now a good time to revisit the fact that this is a horrible idea?"

The two men shared a look.

"It's just a gun, Darcy," Bucky said, his voice flat.

"Easy for you to say, sniper-dude…"

He conceded a bit to that, but he still held a small gun up for her to see. It was definitely not like the one he had been shooting earlier, she was relieved to note.

"You're not gonna shoot with any ammo today," Clint told her while Bucky slowly disassembled and reassembled the gun to show her that it wasn't loaded.

"So why are we here?" Darcy scrunched her nose in confusion.

"Largely," Bucky said before pausing to quirk his head to the side like he was listening to something before snapping his attention back to her. "Largely, so that you'll get comfortable being in this environment."

"Your problem isn't that you're bad with guns," Clint continued. "Your problem is that you're too worried about everything else, it makes you tense and fidgety which then translates to incidents like last time."

"When you're comfortable," Bucky said as he brought her to stand in front of his stall so she could face the target he was shooting at. "You're confident. And when you're confident, you can do that."

He pointed at the holes he'd made in the target. A smiley face made from bullets stared back at her. She looked back at Bucky and Clint who were both looking mighty proud of themselves and promptly burst out into laughter.

"That is the creepiest smiley face I have ever seen."

Their faces dropped into scowls.

"Did you guys rehearse that together?" She smirked and shook her head with another chuckle.

"No," Clint grumbled, not looking at her. Bucky on the other hand just shot her a wink before telling her to focus and turning her to face the target once more.

They spent the next hour teaching her about the type of gun they'd given her to use. They told her why they chose it for her in comparison to others in their arsenal. They taught her how to hold it, how to handle it properly inside and outside of the range, had her point it at the smiley-murder-face and pull the trigger a couple times but not too many because it still made her uncomfortable and they could tell. All in all, Subsection 7 may still have given her the creeps and made her feel totally out of her league, but it had gone a lot better than she had anticipated.

Steve and Arthur were sitting on a couple of pub chairs behind the two-way mirror of Subsection 7, watching Darcy nervously handle the gun Bucky had handed her while Clint rattled off instructions from her other side.

"You know…" Arthur began, not taking his eyes off his great granddaughter. "That little girl used to be fearless."

Steve turned to look at him but didn't say anything.

"Anything Darcy set her mind to was within her reach. No tree branch was too high, no challenge was too daunting. She grew up with a bunch of rowdy boy cousins and she developed a thick skin as a result."

He coughed and scratched his chin. Watched as Darcy got too nervous holding the gun choosing instead to hand it over to Clint.

"She was always this happy, tough little thing. And I never, ever thought it would be her that kept me up at night in my old age."

"Arthur I—"

"No, let me finish." The elder Lewis suddenly sounded so tired. "I haven't gotten to my point yet."

His eyes were fierce when they locked on Steve's.

"I served in Italy."

Steve's eyes widened for a second, searched Arthur for some familiar feature but Arthur waved him off.

"We never met. I was a kid then. Barely 19 and in over my head. Pissed myself in fear and shame a few times. But I never cried in front of anyone because I was a man. Least that's what I told myself."

Steve nodded, having known the feeling intimately.

"Our war was supposed to be it." Arthur laughed a derisive little laugh. "You remember that?"

Steve snorted. "I do."

"The war to end all wars," Arthur shook his head. "My memory is in and out some days, but I remember the blood and shit and snow just fine. I remember tellin myself all the reasons I was out there fighting. Wasn't until later I could recognize just how little control I had over my own fate or the fate of my family."

Darcy was holding the gun again; Bucky was kicking her feet into the appropriate stance and Clint was pointing at the target and talking to her about something they couldn't see.

"I had seen things that no one back home could ever see. And when I came home, a lot of people didn't understand. Oh, they thought they did – thought they could read my thoughts and motives, understand the chaos in my mind." He looked back to Steve. "But they couldn't. And it drove a wedge."

Steve nodded. He understood the feeling well.

"It was different back then. Harder to separate, harder to put that distance between yourself and your loved ones. Hell, at least for me, they held me in a higher regard. I was a soldier. I'd made sacrifices, and they respected that I'd changed because of it"

Arthur sighed.

"Darcy doesn't get that respect though…not really. I don't even know what she's been through—" he gestured to Steve, to Captain America, and laughed to himself. "I can only imagine what with the company she keeps. I don't know what she has done or seen, but I know she's done it. I know she's seen it." He whispered with a deep conviction and stared into middle distance speaking with a tinge of remembrance.

"When I do see her, and it's not often anymore, I am reminded of myself in those days. Back in the Alps…when I was trekking through the snow and my own piss, trying to convince myself that I was a man."

Arthur cleared his throat and quieted.

Steve sighed and rubbed his face with both hands before turning his attention back to Darcy who had cracked some stupid joke from the look of Bucky's less than amused look.

"I understand." Steve said after a beat.

Arthur just looked at him, expression unreadable.

"It's her privacy. So I don't know how much to say or not…" Steve leaned forward. "She has nightmares. I don't know of what specifically or how often. I have a few ideas, but they're just educated guesses more than anything else. She's sad, I think, more often than not. And I worry that what little I have to offer won't be enough by ways of ending that sadness."

"You love her," Arthur stated.

"She's family." Steve said. "I don't know if I have the right to call her that, but it's how I feel. She is one of the most genuine people I've known in this century and the last. I can't imagine my world without her in it."

Steve pretended not to notice when Arthur's eyes misted.

"You'll be there for her," Arthur said with an air of certainty. More to himself than to Rogers. "When I can't be there anymore, you'll be in her corner."

"I will."

The rest of Arthur's visit passed in a blur. After they had finished her training for the day, Darcy had given him a proper tour of the tower. Introduced him to Jane, Bruce and Tony all of whom he had yet to meet.

They played card games in the kitchen, and he regaled everyone with tales of Darcy's rebellious childhood. Indignant, Darcy sassed him through it all. She smiled more than she had in a while and if anyone noticed they didn't say.

On the day of his birthday, Darcy baked him his favorite champagne cake with strawberries, and gifted him with a party hat that he insisted on wearing for the rest of the day. That night, the residents of the tower gathered for food and drinks. Ecstatic, Thor took the opportunity to bless the day for it was a joyous one spent among beloved friends and family. Arthur gave Darcy a look when Thor had finished and asked her if this was the reason her Aunt Caroline had kicked up a fuss about Darcy becoming a pagan. The Cheshire grin he got in return was all he needed to know.

Arthur fell head over heels in love with Natasha, and Natasha was plenty charmed by Great Grandpa Lewis as well. A well-placed kiss on the cheek left the red imprint of her lips on his face for the duration of the night. He refused to scrub it off, just like he refused to remove his party hat.

Finally, after hours of partying it up with the world's mightiest heroes the man admitted defeat, blamed his old age, and headed off to bed. His best great grandgirl was on his arm at the end of the night.

He had refused Tony's offer of the quinjet as means of transportation back home citing his love for trains and a need for more time away from the family. The quinjet would make too good of time. He wanted to savor the freedom of his travels before returning to the recliner for the foreseeable future.

Darcy stood with him in Grand Central Station as they waited for his train to arrive.

"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?" Darcy worried her lip and glanced at him.

He patted her arm reassuringly.

"Oh no, this old man can take care of himself just fine," he insisted.

"I'm really glad you came up here, Pops." Her voice was tight. Darcy sniffed and crossed her arms. "I miss you a lot you know…I'm really sorry I haven't been home in a while."

"Darcy," Arthur spoke softly. "Darcy, look at me."

He framed her face with his hands and gently tugged her down until their foreheads bumped together. She closed her eyes, but Arthur studied her with his own sharp brown eyes a mix of grief and limitless affection.

"Look at me, young lady," His voice was stern, but he smiled when she complied.

"You are lovely. You are loveable. And you are loved."

A few tears leaked out of her eyes, but she kept them open, nonetheless.

"You always know where to find me, I will always listen," He said.

He wiped a few tears with his thumbs as they fell down faster now.

"One day, be it tomorrow or a month or a year from now, you are going to remember how truly remarkable you are. And when that day comes, I want you to remember that I told you so."

She snorted and took in his cheeky grin. Then they hugged each other tight and she kissed him on the cheek.

When his train came, she watched him board with a nervous flutter in her stomach and an ache in her chest that felt distinctly sick for home.

And when his train was gone, she left the station and wandered the city until the sun fell below the horizon. Then she meandered back to the tower, she was greeted warmly by Jarvis when she entered the elevator and was met by a fidgety, worried Jane outside her apartment door.

"Oh! Thank God, Darcy!" Jane said, surging forward to wrap her little pixie arms around her best friend.

Darcy laughed for a confused second before pulling back to give Jane her best 'what the fuck' look.

"You've been gone for hours. I worried." Jane mumbled. "Jarvis said you were fine, should've trusted him. Though now that I think about it…he is most definitely surveilling your cell phone now…" Jane looked suspiciously up at the ceiling, but Jarvis remained deceptively silent.

"What's up, Janie." Darcy said, deciding to deal with the overstepping A.I. at a different time.

"This." Jane held out a small box and an envelope.

"This?" Darcy accepted it with a scrunched brow.

"It's a gift…from Pops." Jane said. "He made me promise to wait until he left to give it to you."

"What is it?"

Jane shrugged but nodded for her to open it. Darcy, ever the nonconformist, went for the box before the envelope. Peeling the lid off, Darcy was taken aback to find a faded metal chain wrapped in tissue paper. Pulling the chain out of the box completely, her heart caught in her throat at the sight of a pair of discolored dog tags with Arthur Lewis's name on them. She slipped the chain over her head and tucked the tags into her shirt before tearing open the envelope, unfolding a letter.

To My Best Great Grandgirl,

If your friend Jane is worth her salt, she will have waited until I left before giving you this letter. I have to admit, I'm a bit out of practice, but for you I'd never put down my pen.

I have so much I wish I could say to you. So much I wish I could have prepared you for, but time is a funny thing. And where I feel sometimes that I've lived a hundred lifetimes, when I look at you it's as though I blinked and suddenly they've gone and you're grown! How that happened, I have no idea!

I've entrusted my dog tags to you, sweet girl. They carried me through some of the most trying times in my life – seen me through it all. I hope that now they will carry you through just as well. That, by some extension, I will be there to fight every battle alongside you – in spirit, I would keep you safe.

Nearly eighty years ago, a letter from someone I loved was the only way to combat the darkness I'd seen, the only thing to help me cope with the horrors of the world. I don't know what those pretty brown eyes have seen, Darcy-Lou, but I know that you've seen the darkness I speak of.

Just remember, my girl, that after almost a hundred years of life, for every bit of darkness I have encountered there has been twice as much light.

Love you always,

Pops

p.s. Write me, young lady. It's a dying art.