Darcy nearly fell asleep in the helicopter, despite the overwhelming noise and her own anxiety. Fucking emotional yo-yo, she thought to herself. One minute she was blinking back tears, the next passing out during her friend's rescue. She sighed and blinked, peering around.
Steve wore a gray kevlar vest over his fresh t-shirt and kept his shield on his right arm. Nat either had protective padding in her catsuit (Darcy wouldn't be surprised with how great her figure looked) or she liked to live dangerously (also not a surprise). She had strapped on two black thigh holsters with pistols. Darcy caught Nat's eye and smiled.
"You're such a fucking badass," Darcy commented into the headset.
Nat grinned and batted her eyelashes. "The clothes make the man, they say."
"God, I hope not," Darcy replied, looking down at herself. The baggy men's pants nearly had her cringing, but they were still better than the filthy clothes she'd worn for over twenty-four hours straight. She heard Nat chuckle.
"I'm well aware it's not your usual ensemble. Just have to make do for a few more hours, then we'll have you back home."
"I can't wait," Darcy sighed. "So where are we going?"
"It's a little wooded park just a few miles from Culver University. The Avengers are already there with a surveillance van. You'll be joining the support team to provide expertise, as we discussed."
"Cool."
Darcy went back to staring out the window. A cluster of lights on the ground grew brighter as they closed in on their destination.
"Is that Willowdale?" Darcy asked, leaning closer to watch.
"Yes," Nat confirmed. "We're two minutes out. The park is far enough away that any bad actors on campus shouldn't hear us approach, or get a visual."
Darcy pressed her lips together in a thin line as they descended. She hadn't been to Willowdale in nearly four years, but she knew exactly where they were. Brendan's house was barely two blocks away. Her old professor-turned-friend was likely waiting out a tense night, probably under guard, possibly at gunpoint. The thought turned her stomach. And it made her mad.
They landed in a clear, grassy spot. Falcon, Vision, War Machine, and Scarlet Witch were waiting for them, along with a handful of "ops" looking types in black. Darcy gathered she was meant to go with the second group while Steve went with the first. Despite her words to the contrary, she wasn't ready to part ways. She clambered out of the helicopter behind Steve and Natasha, purse strap securely over her shoulder. She took a deep breath of temperate night air. Virginia smelled about the same as she remembered.
Nat stepped confidently toward her teammates. Darcy turned to go with the surveillance people, but then she felt Steve's hand tug at her arm. His fingers slid down and cupped her elbow as he pulled her toward him.
"Darcy, are you sure you're okay with this? You might see some things you'd rather not."
"Absolutely." Darcy lifted her chin and tossed her hair back off her shoulders. "Brendan needs me. There's no question I'm up for it."
Steve gave a single sharp nod. "Okay. I just wanted to be sure. And you know I'll do everything in my power-"
"Yeah, yeah, Steve. I know all that," Darcy said softly, smiling to take the sting from her words.
Steve smiled back. He hesitated, looking down at her, and it was all she could do not to reach up and press her palm to his cheek. Stupid, Darcy. He's not your hero; he's everyone's hero. He's just doing his job.
Steve cleared his throat. "Uh, Darcy, after we're through with this mission, when things get back to normal-"
"Yeah, looking forward to that," Darcy agreed quickly. "Normal work, normal routine, normal time with normal friends - I mean, not that this whole experience hasn't been great, but um, no, it really hasn't been great."
The joke was super-lame, but Darcy's nerves had kicked in under Steve's lovely eyes and handsome features. When things got back to normal, she'd probably hardly see him again unless she turned into a lunch-time Avenger groupie, watching at the window of the training facility. Normal Steve was a clean-cut dude with a polite smile and ridiculous biceps in too-small workout shirts. Normal Darcy was a snarky lab denizen frequently found brewing coffee or shlepping reams of paper to Jane's office. There wasn't much overlap.
Steve nodded slowly and released her arm. "Yeah. I have a lot of irons in the fire. We've been prepping for several smaller goodwill missions to break in Vision and Scarlet Witch, since they don't have prior combat experience."
"Jane's going to have a field day with the data that's piled up in her absence. I was supposed to be sorting some of it, to make it easier for processing, so I have catching up to do."
Darcy rubbed her arm. It felt warm where Steve had touched her. They both turned toward their respective groups. Darcy took a step forward.
"Guess this is it," she muttered to herself.
Steve somehow managed to hear her. He turned and offered her his left hand.
"It's been a pleasure, Miss Lewis," he said, squeezing her right hand briefly before releasing her.
She let it drop limply to her side.
"Well, that's a total lie," she countered, but she made sure to smile when she said it.
He chuckled, then walked away, all business. If there had been any spell at all, it was broken.
Darcy gave a little sigh as she watched him go. It nagged her, Steve's admitted detachment from the time he found himself in. That night in the hotel, he'd sounded lost. He acted like he always knew what to do, yet he always did what others demanded. Darcy hoped the other Avengers saw past that cool and confident projection. Maybe Falcon; he seemed like a good guy, and she remembered seeing them together in the cafeteria from time to time. The thought comforted her.
She let herself be guided to the surveillance van nestled oh-so-subtly in a gravel lot that accompanied the park's playground. A tall young man took charge of her as she climbed up into the back of the van.
"My name's Dirk," he offered, seating himself and motioning for her to do the same.
"Hi Dirk. Darcy," she replied.
She couldn't get her last glimpse of Steve out of her mind. Get a grip, Darcy, she admonished herself. She shook her head and tried to listen as Dirk explained the various cameras and instruments they'd be using to listen in on the Avenger's operation, but her attention was scattered, at best.
"Hey, Dirk, uh, sorry," she interrupted. "Is there any chance of a cup of coffee? It's been a really long day."
Dirk halted his steady stream of info with a blink.
"Um, sure!" he replied cheerfully.
He leaned back, kicking out his legs to roll to the other end of the van. A pot of drip coffee squatted at the edge of utilitarian shelving designed to hold key- and control boards. He returned with a steaming styrofoam cup in one hand and set it carefully on the shelf between them.
"Do you need like, sugar, or…."
"If you've got it, that's be great," Darcy replied.
She rummaged around in her purse and retrieved three creamers from the breakfast diner in Nowheresville, New York. Come to think of it, she didn't have any idea where that diner had been. Someplace out in the boonies, if they still had pay phones. She remembered Steve's look of disgust at her creamed and sugared coffee and chuckled to herself. Her mirth was short lived, however, as Dirk launched back into his run down of the equipment.
"Okay, did you get all that?" he asked when he'd finished.
"...yeah," Darcy lied.
"Good deal. Now, the team is coming in on the west side of the Poli-Sci department building. Can you suggest an access point?"
Darcy thought for a moment, then recalled a little porch at ground level behind the building and the peeling, outdated maroon door that went with it. It had been the smoker's porch, with a convenient wooden picnic table for breaks between classes. She'd tried social smoking for all of two months as a freshman, but it hadn't stuck.
"There's a door back there. It has a square window, so you can see down the hallway inside. There aren't any offices or anything. It's just one long hallway. I'd be surprised if they haven't posted a guard on it. It's the only entrance or exit on the west side."
"Great!" Dirk enthused.
He tapped quickly at a keyboard, then relayed her information over his intercom. Darcy tried not to roll her eyes. Dirk's chipper attitude was eroding her patience. It wasn't his fault, she knew, but that made no difference. She glanced around at the various monitors. She did a double-take and zeroed in on an innocuous house, viewed straight-on from across the street. Her chest constricted as she recognized Dr. Brendan Mallory's house. So they were keeping tabs on his home. The front porch light was on, and a trail of fairy lights led down the center sidewalk of his neatly landscaped lawn. One lamp illuminated a set of gauzy curtains upstairs. Darcy's eyebrows drew together. That might be his study. She couldn't quite remember.
As she watched the screen, the light in the study flickered on and off, on and off, and back on. Darcy stared, puzzled. Why would Brendan flick the lights? Was he up there trying to send some kind of message? Despite Dirk's instruction to divide her attention among all the screens, Darcy kept her eyes glued to Brendan's house, watching for another signal.
Thirteen minutes and three seconds later, the light flickered again. Darcy's suspicion grew. She glanced over at Dirk, who was chatting with another person in the van. She set the timer on her phone and waited impatiently. At thirteen minutes and three seconds the study flickered again. The video feed was on a loop!
"Dirk!" Darcy blurted.
The young man put his attention back on her. Darcy watched his confident demeanor suspiciously and scratched her arm.
"I need to go to the bathroom," she continued. "Where is that?"
"Ugh, sorry. There's a convenience store nearby. It's the best we can do. Here, I'll get you an escort."
Dirk began to stand, but Darcy waved him off.
"It's fine. I'll get one of the guys outside," she said with a chipper smile of her own.
Grabbing her purse, she let herself out of the back of the van and looked around carefully. There was no one immediately in view, but Darcy knew there were at least two other people nearby. She skirted the edge of the street light's downcast beam. No one appeared out of the darkness to ask her what she was doing. Darcy continued across the playground and made her way to Argentum Avenue.
Realizing she might be missed, she picked up the pace as soon as she was on solid asphalt. There were no cars passing in the quiet neighborhood at this time of night. Darcy glanced fearfully around at the ritzy homes and their variety of landscaped bushes and beds, feeling suddenly vulnerable. What the hell are you doing, Darcy? She asked herself. If you find Brendan, what do you think you can do?
She nearly turned back, but then Brendan's house was in front of her. It was a really short walk. Darcy ducked down beside a stately oak and pressed herself to the trunk. She peered around at the study window. It was dark. Either Brendan had gone to bed while she walked over, or the video loop was from earlier in the night.
Darcy pulled out her phone, but put it back almost immediately. She didn't have anyone's numbers, except Jane and a couple of people at the New Avengers Facility. She had no way to contact Steve or the others on campus, and someone had looped that feed, so she wasn't going to contact the van - even if she could. She rummaged around some more in the purse and unearthed the earwig Steve had given her. She pressed it into her ear and pushed a button on the side. Silence. She didn't know how to operate it - or maybe it was out of juice.
Alright Darcy, you got this, she assured herself, dropping the earwig back in her bag. She'd just take a tiny peek in the window, and if anything looked weird, she'd run and tell the people in the park. Easy peasy.
Darcy inched around the other side of the oak tree and made her way up the side of Brendan's front lawn. There were plenty of decorative grasses and shrubs to hide behind, plus the occasional large rock. This side, the right side of Brendan's property, brought her to his kitchen window. Darcy took a deep breath and stole across the open grass between his border bed and another garden bed encircling the house. Her feet sank down into soft soil and mulch as she pressed herself against vinyl siding, panting. Darcy's nerves were up, but she felt oddly cool. She decided to go with it.
Glancing up, she knew there was no way she'd reach the kitchen window two feet above her head. She crept along the side of the house until she came to a lower window. Crouching down, she settled below it, then slowly raised up to peep inside. The house was dark, but her eyes had adjusted in the shadowy side yard. Darcy gave a little gasp. Someone was seated in a chair from Brendan's kitchenette set, but she could only see their silhouette. The person slumped to one side, head canted onto his shoulder. Asleep? Or dead? Darcy slipped her hand into her purse.
A quiet click next to her ear made her freeze.
"What have we here?" mocked a familiar voice.
Smug. Shit. Shit shit shit.
Moving slowly, Darcy put both hands up high.
"Turn around," Smug ordered.
Darcy complied.
At that moment, her phone shrilled from inside her purse, making her flinch. Fortunately, Smug truly was a professional. He didn't move an inch as the first thirty seconds of "Baby Got Back" played through twice.
Frowning sourly, he asked, "I suppose that's the Avengers looking for you? Not to worry."
Smug jammed his hand into her purse, rummaged a moment, and pulled the phone free. He dropped it on a decorative paving stone, then lifted his heel and stamped down on it. The screen shattered and pieces flew as he brought his foot down again and again.
"There. Much better."
Darcy bared her teeth. "Joke's on you, asshole. Three clicks of a button, and I sent my GPS coordinates to my five emergency contacts. This place is about to be crawling with self-righteous hero types."
Smug's eyes widened not with fear, but rage. "You fucking bitch. Move! Now!"
He jerked the nose of the gun toward the back of Brendan's house. Darcy got the picture. She walked ahead of Smug, eyes darting every which way in case there was a chance of escape - not that she'd try with a literal gun to her head. Steve's heroism was rubbing off on her. Or was it recklessness? A second man held the door open as they came inside.
"Get the car started. This location is compromised; we have to go now!" Smug yelled.
The man ran to the garage as Smug prodded Darcy into the kitchen.
Darcy's swirling emotions solidified into terror when she saw Brendan. The house lights were off, but it was a clear night in Willowdale and the moon shone in through windows, providing just enough light to see his sleeping face. He looked haggard, exhausted. She didn't remember him being so old.
Smug set his automatic rifle by the door and relieved Darcy of her purse for the second time. He took her arm to guide her to a chair, but she resisted.
"Can I have a second with him? I haven't seen him in a really long time," she pleaded.
Smug tightened his grip and blew out an exasperated breath. "What do you think this is, a hotel? No!"
With that, he yanked her over to the dinette set and pushed her down into a chair. He grabbed several zip ties from a pack and got started on her ankles. He gripped both of them in one hand. Darcy could feel her ankle bones grind painfully against each other.
"I'm starting to think tying people up is a thing for you," she muttered viciously.
Smug put on a ghastly grin. "Better hope you never find out."
"Who else did you turn? Who set up the video loop? Was it Dirk?"
"Who's Dirk? Look, Darcy, you can bait me all you want, but I'm not going to launch into a super-villain monologue. We're here to get our work done, and get out. So sit down, shut up, and don't cause me any more trouble."
Darcy stared him down, eyes narrowed. There was movement next to her as Brendan stirred.
"Darcy?" he slurred sleepily. He brought his head up slowly. "Ow, my neck."
"Hey, Brendan, it's me. Sorry for the crappy-ass circumstances of our reunion."
"Aah, shit. What are you doing here, Darcy? I was under the impression they were keeping you hidden away until this job-thingie is done. I...I'm sorry, Darcy. I know I should have been stronger."
Brendan's face took on a tragic cast in the moonlight. Darcy sighed as Smug finished binding her legs and tugged at his work to be sure it was secure.
"It's okay, Brendan. One way or another, this will be over soon."
"That's a promise," Smug agreed as he tightened up several zip ties encircling Darcy's wrists.
He yanked them hard, pulling Darcy off the chair. She hit the floor with a grunt. Smug actually laughed.
"Dickhead," she muttered, but he only laughed more.
"Dr. Mallory, it's time to load you up. No worries, we'll just carry you into the van. Don't go anywhere, Darcy. I mean that." Smug gave her a warning glare.
The other man came in from the garage and Smug gestured for him to help move Brendan, chair and all. They dragged him out through a door past the living room. Darcy could hear several grunts, then one loud bang and an 'oof' from Brendan. Next, it was her turn. Smug's associate picked her up like a sack of potatoes over one shoulder and laid her none too gently on the floor of their van. Brendan lay next to her, still tied to the chair.
"Where are they taking us?" he whispered.
Darcy shook her hair out of her eyes and focused on his face, frowning.
"I just don't know."