Chapter Forty-Five: Anchor
The door slammed, hiding Thor behind it. Those Avengers who watched closely were rewarded with a flash of his crimson cape as he strode past the couch and further into the house. As for the wounded girl in his arms, they were none the wiser. Darla looked terrified-as though she were trapped in a cage with a lion. Out of habit, and without even looking, she began to anxiously pick at her nails. The stress of starting this new position had driven her to bite them back until they were barely there. She clawed compulsively at the nail bits and though it stung, the pain didn't register.
"He can't be serious," Fury boomed with an aggressive arm gesture toward the door.
"He seemed pretty serious to me," Tony stated bluntly.
"For all we know, he asked Loki to put it back up. Obviously he wants some privacy," Steve reasoned.
"So?" Fury snapped.
Steve glared his way. "I'm not saying I agree with him. Just that it's a possibility."
Darla contemplated crossing the line just to feel some echo of safety. She tried to convince herself. How bad could it really be? Nausea? Lightheadedness? She was no stranger to such things and she already felt sick. At least on the other side of the spell she wouldn't be a casualty slaughtered by a stray projectile. At least it was far less likely. She lifted her foot to step.
"Stay put," Tony warned with his glowing eye sockets aimed right at her so there was no confusion. She glued her foot back to the grass where it had been.
Almost casually, Fury suggested, "Why don't you just pop your head in there and see what's going on?" For a moment, Steve, Tony and Bruce were impressed. The way he'd said it, the activity sounded like no big deal. Then the moment passed and they were disgusted.
"Okay, well, I'm pretty sure we're all on the same page here," Tony noted. "So who would like to go first?"
"You know she can't do that," Steve objected.
"I see we have a taker," Tony joked-though he wasn't smiling.
"Last time I checked," Fury mused, defensive, "Agent Cooper was a grown woman."
"This has nothing to do with that," Bruce jumped in, his quiet, calm voice very stern. "We have super powers and more weapons than you could name in a lifetime and we still can't pin him down."
"We would be a lot closer if the Asgardian on our side would stop going rogue," Fury pointed out.
"It doesn't matter. We have to adapt to the situation Thor put us in. And she-" Steve put extra emphasis here by pointing to Darla, "-is not the solution."
Darla felt her cheeks getting hot. For Christ's sake, she wasn't a baby. But the way Steve, Tony and Bruce were talking about her sure made her feel like one. When she looked to Fury, there was a kindness and understanding to his face. She simply didn't know him well enough to realize that it was all an act. Even though those defending her had her well being in mind, she was unable to see it that way. Just as Fury had intended by instigating them.
The director beamed inside when she gazed at him, searching for direction. He kept his cool and delivered the killing blow. "If you don't want to go in there, you certainly don't have to. No one will think any less of you. You're definitely not going to lose your job over it. However-if you feel you're able, I trust you." All three men opposed to this opened their mouths at once. Fury silenced them with a glare. "The least you three can do is let her decide on her own. I have no doubt that she is well aware of her strengths and weaknesses. She was chosen to work for SHIELD, after all, and we only hire the very best."
Darla was glowing now-like she'd just won a spelling bee. The three Avengers were able to discern without a shadow of a doubt that nothing they could say would influence her. Bruce, in particular, was amazed at how she clung to his positive reinforcement. It was like she'd never heard a kind word in her life. He felt spontaneously ill. Had Fury seen that in her? Was that why he hired her to begin with? She'd stopped fussing with her nails at this point and her back held a confident posture. The initial panic was gone. The girl who'd wanted to fly across the lawn and suffer for safety? She was-like Tony said-just a mouse. Whatever quiet objections that girl made, Darla ignored them. She didn't want them to look at her as though she were a porcelain doll that cracked at the touch. She aimed to proved that she had some courage.
When she spun to face the door, seeking no permission to do so, Bruce tried in vain to reason with her. "Darla, please, I'm begging you not to do this-" he pleaded. She never even hesitated. Before anyone could fathom that she was actually going through with it, the door was closed behind her. Bruce couldn't stop shaking his head. "We have to get her, we can't just, we can't just-"
Steve's arms were crossed tightly over his broad chest. "If we cross the line, we're more useless to her than if we stand here and do nothing."
"She'll be fine," Fury droned lazily.
"You don't know that!" Bruce shouted. His teammates turned to him in amazement as he so rarely raised his voice. 'You can't know that! Loki is unpredictable! He bought that girl a dog!"
"Do you think he actually paid for it?" Tony wondered aloud.
"Not the time." Bruce didn't yell this time, but he'd really wanted to.
"Tell me what to do and I'll do it," Tony shot back, "you're looking at a team player." Steve rolled his eyes. Tony assumed he had and said, "I heard that."
"Listen-" Fury could barely get this word out before he was interrupted.
"Shut up." Bruce commanded, fuming.
"Maybe you should go wait in the car, Dr. Banner," Fury's voice was pure I-don't-give-a-damn.
"That's what she should have been doing!"
"Nobody forced her to get out of the car. Nobody forced her to cross the line. Nobody-"
Bruce took a deep breath before cutting him off again. His arrogance was eroding his ever-resilient patience. His tone was refined. Concise and clear. "You knew damn well what you were doing. Maybe you didn't plan it point by point. Hell, maybe it didn't even occur to you at first. But somehow I doubt it." Each few words brought him steps closer to Fury. At this point, he was close enough to whisper, so he did. "If anything happens to her-emotional trauma included-I will be holding you personally accountable."
Fury grinned and Bruce's stomach churned. "Whatever you say, Doc."
Steve saw the sweat starting to accumulate on the back of Bruce's neck and jumped into action. He pulled him away from their director and found he needed to use more force than he'd anticipated. All of Bruce's muscles were tense. "I'm not saying this because I want to protect Fury," he prefaced as delicately as he could, "Trust me, I'd love to watch you throw him like a javelin right about now. But you get it, right? Maybe take a walk."
Bruce's glaring gaze softened slightly. Without a word, he strode across the street and sat down on the sidewalk to fidget with his shirt sleeves and frown. He felt legitimately very terrible for not trying harder to keep her out of the house. He didn't blame himself, in any case. No matter what he would have said, Fury would have come back with some convincing persuasion. One of the worst aspects was that if Darla did come out alright, her confidence in Fury's judgment would only increase. And Fury, in all his twisted reasoning, would be smug.
Elsewhere
Darla stood past the doorway with her senses alert. She vaguely heard the guys shouting behind her but tuned them out as best as she could. Inside the home felt like another planet with its solemn quietness. She took two paces forward and perked her ears. She couldn't hear a thing. She moved slowly with her knees slightly, heart beating with steady concentration. Thoughts crept up her spinal cord. Worries and doubts. She swatted them away effortlessly. What she did in here they couldn't see. Plus, if she came back with some intel she felt she'd be rewarded, and that pushed her forward.
She explored the kitchen first and the den off to the side, peering in the back yard as she passed. No sign of anyone, so she doubled back and headed down the hall toward the bedroom. The bathroom was empty and she noted that the bedroom door was almost completely shut. She listened but there was nothing to hear. After exactly two additional steps. she realized in a flash that she was to close. All the confidence she'd built up on Fury's words came crashing down-it had no real foundation, after all. How stupid can you be? She thought. This is reckless-and for what? Without Fury feeding her false hope and courage, she was painfully aware of just how severely she'd been tricked. What she really didn't understand was what Fury stood to gain. How much intel could she, an inexperienced surveillance drone, actually acquire? And then there was the especially horrible worst case scenario. She had to go back outside and hide in the bushes. Mouse-Darla had been right all along.
With her back turned to her original destination now, she hesitated. The light in the house had changed. It wasn't quite dark but just different, glowing warm orange with the setting of the sun. It had to be close to eight-o-clock. Her shift was supposed to be over at six. Eve had disappeared close to the end of her work day. In her seconds of realization and deliberation, she forfeited her own escape. The bedroom door creaked open and her fight-or-flight response kicked in-heavy on the flight.
Her foot didn't even get off the ground before long fingers clamped around her wrist. She jerked away but her captor held fast, unwavering like an anchor. She didn't want to look at him, but when his velvet voice wafted through her ears, her curiosity and fear got the best of her. He inquired, "What do we have here?"
