Chapter Sixty-Three: Swan Dive

No one was in the lab. Darla was ninety percent sure. She'd done one lap around it to be certain, and felt continuing would be cause for embarrassment. She tried to find a place where Marista couldn't see her, eventually stumbling on a seat behind a bulky apparatus. Then she thought it would look odd if Bruce did come in to find her just sitting there. Still, it wasn't as though she could find a way to work in the lab without direction. Across the way, she could look out the huge windows and see the city. There was something off about her view, though. There was something that looked like a doorknob attached to the glass. It was at the right height to be and-yeah, it was definitely a doorknob. Was there a balcony out there? She didn't think so. So why-

She heard the lab's front door open and breathed a sigh of relief. She stood and looked to find a head of blazing red hair strolling in. She caught an immediate rush of adrenaline-like she wasn't supposed to be there-and reflexively moved to hide. There wasn't much in the way of hiding spots, something she'd learned moments before, so she sat back down and pulled her knees into her chest like a child in time out.

"Bruce?" Natasha called and it echoed flatly off the machines within.

Darla drew breath as little as possible. It felt like an absurd practice the moment she began, but then so much time had passed after Natasha speaking that it would have been awkward to be found. They'd never formally met each other, only in passing the day Eve went missing and Darla got pulled into all of this. Natasha wasn't at the briefing the day after, either. Had Barton said something about her nearly dying?

"He's not here," Natasha spoke into her earpiece. "No, he never wears it. It must be here somewhere gathering dust." A pause. "He's usually with Stark but we don't know where he is either." Another pause. "Who? Agent who?"

Darla couldn't see her now-how had that happened? She'd come in the door and-

"Are you supposed to be up here?" Natasha was behind her. Darla jerked violently and, unable to maintain her balance, fell into the heavy machine on her left. It roller away from her on four tiny wheels, on course to collide with an assortment of expensive looking gadgets. Natasha ran to the other side and stopped it before anything was broken. It still made a lot of noise in the process. Once it was stopped, however, the lab was quieter than it had possibly ever been before. So quiet that Darla forgot she'd been asked a question.

Natasha rephrased. "What are you doing up here? Besides attempting to destroy company property."

Darla's explanation came out of her mouth at an alarming speed. "Well, yesterday I was supposed to help Tony with-ah, Mr. Stark-with the party planning but he was, um, upset, and-"

"Okay, stop," Natasha laughed. "Director Fury told me you'd be up here. I'm glad you felt the need to start your explanation as far back as yesterday, though, that's very thorough."

"I was supposed to come help Bruce and he's not here."

"Yeah, he's gone missing."

"Really?"

"No, not officially. Maybe. He does this sometimes. He's probably just on a breakfast date." Darla couldn't hide her concern-there wasn't a spot in the lab to hide anything, after all. "It's a joke. Sometimes we say that when we're not sure where he is. Because there is exactly a zero percent chance that he's on a date."

"Oh, he doesn't date?"

Natasha grinned. "Not really. Why?"

"Oh, uh…"

"Tony was trying to hook him up with Marista for a minute there. Have you met her?" Darla nodded, looking annoyed. "Your face says it all. Don't worry. He feels the same way about her that you do."

During the following lull in conversation, Darla took the opportunity to really see Natasha. The news reports were calling her the Black Widow-the woman standing before her was far more intimidating than a deadly spider. Her figure was pristine. Anything and everything a woman in a magazine should be and more. This brief interaction had proven her wit, stability and compassion. She was so quintessentially herself.

"Since Bruce isn't around," Natasha said, "do you not have an assignment for today?"

"Not technically, I guess."

"I have an errand I'm sort of dreading. Tag along?"

"What do I have to do?"

"Nothing demanding. Think of it as a field trip."

After they'd already been in her car for eight minutes, Natasha said, "It's Cooper, right? Fury said Agent Cooper."

"Right," Darla affirmed. "That's right."

"I'm Natasha," she said.

"I know." Pause. "You can call me Darla. If you want. If that's not too informal."

"You've been hanging out with us quite a bit. More with the guys than with me, I suppose. It's been a whirlwind of a week. I've been technically out of commission for a few days now, here. Since I got hurt, Fury took it upon himself to give me a bit of busy work so I don't go insane. Usually that would entail paperwork or surveillance, but in this case he actually needs something from me."

"You were hurt?"

"Did they not talk about that at the meeting the other day? Were you there?"

"I was. Agent Barton mentioned it but no details."

"Oh. Yeah, I got hurt. I'll be okay."

Darla was able to recognize she shouldn't ask about it anymore. "What are we going to do?"

"You know that party you were supposed to help plan? Fury asked me to convince someone to attend."

"Who wouldn't want to come to a party with all of you?"

"You'd be surprised."

Sam was reading a book out on his apartment's balcony. Another mystery thriller. He'd torn through four already this week, was gobbling them up like chocolate covered raisins. With all this time off, he was burying himself in distraction after distraction. It took all of his willpower not to text or call Eve, or to text or call his old job to ask about her. If she was going to be with that maniac, if she was going to choose him, he didn't want to know. It was hard not to care about her. He couldn't turn it off, there was no switch to flip. He'd done well so far.

When the doorbell rang, he ran to answer it, welcoming any and all things that would help him get through the next five minutes. Anything to keep him from sinking into the anger and disappointment, at Eve and at himself, that threatened to unravel him. Beyond the peep hole was a tiny redhead he didn't recognize. He opened the door and she said, "I'm sorry."

Natasha was standing out of the peep hole's line of sight. Sam tilted his head back in a sigh that consumed his whole body. His arm flexed as he prepared to slam the door. Natasha caught it before it shut and pushed it back open, overpowering him so easily it made him look pathetic.

"You're not supposed to be here," he said. He gave Darla a once-over and she wandered inside, shutting the door daintily behind her. "You know what, though, this is my fault. I should have noticed the stupid fucking uniform."

"I think it looks good on her," Natasha said. Darla smiled for half of a second, then resumed feeling like she didn't belong. "But you're right-you should have noticed it."

"What are you doing here? And who is she?"

"She is Agent Cooper. She's the new you. Fury's favorite."

Sam laughed boisterously at this. "Don't be absurd. I wasn't his favorite. At best he considered me the most gullible and easiest to manipula-" when he caught Natasha's knowing stare, it stuck to him like paper mache. It clogged up his throat. He looked at Agent Cooper, with her frail frame and innocent, light eyes. A rolling anger welled up in him. Was Fury going to abuse her trust too? What was going to happen to her? He stopped himself. None of that was his problem. "What are you doing here?" He repeated with a calm sense that he was, once again, being manipulated. Natasha was the master of it. At one time he'd trusted her, thought he knew her, but his distrust for his ex-director spread to those who worked closely with him as well.

"We're having a party this weekend."

Sam didn't know what to say.

"Fury wants you to come."

Darla looked away from them and puffed air into her cheeks for a second. This method seemed too direct, to the point where it sucked all the air out of the room.

"Is that a fucking joke? Are you trying to lighten the mood? Catch me off guard?"

"I'm trying to be straight with you. No tricks or anything. That's the situation, it really is as simple as that."

"Obviously I'm not going to do that. Nothing has ever been more obvious."

"Okay, perfect. Thank you."

Natasha had cast out a line. He knew he shouldn't bite, knew it with every bit of himself. The curiosity, he thought, would be worse than any blows to his pride. "Why in god's name are you lunatics throwing a party?"

"Loki was-"

"Loki," Sam interrupted, with a sourness in his tone that implied they were bitter rivals. Maybe in his mind, but Sam was merely a blip on Loki's radar. "Does he have you all brainwashed, now?"

"He was captured. Thor returned him to Asgard. We want to celebrate."

"Oh." This was good news, right? Why didn't Sam feel relieved? All the time he'd spent trying not to think about Eve had amounted to quite a bit of thinking about Eve. Late at night or early morning, in between distractions. He had no obligations to keep his mind off of her, and he lost pages and pages of books by only half-reading them, having to go back and read them over again. Now he had to fight not to ask about her. That was why he hated Loki so much. Forget everything that happened in New York prior, every innocent life lost because of him. He had corrupted the woman he thought he would marry someday. He didn't think about her like that anymore. She could hardly be the same, sweet, regimented person he knew. The girl who helped him budget his finances and file his taxes. The girl who once threw a whipped cream pie in his face and then cleaned up the mess herself. It wasn't as though he could change the way he saw her overnight, not even after he'd spent days in the hospital recovering. He still cared about her. The difference now was that he hated that he did. In time, and he despised the waiting, he would move on and accept that he deserved better.

Natasha could see the question hovering behind his eyes in bold helvetica. If he wasn't going to ask it, though, she wasn't going to answer. "Alright, well, I'll tell Fury you're not in. Great, see you around."

"I hope not," he muttered.

"Don't worry, you won't hear from us." The statement seemed aggressive like a threat. "You still have my number, I hope, if you change your mind."

"I don't still have it." He'd deleted all of those contacts specifically so the temptation would be gone.

"Would you like it?"

He hesitated. "No."

"Alright," she turned for the door.

"Fuck. Wait," Sam couldn't look at her as he said it. Darla watched him hang his head in a shame that felt unnecessary. "Is Eve okay?"

"We don't know," Natasha said. "She's missing."

"Missing…" The word didn't feel real. It felt like a placeholder. It felt like she'd said We haven't found her body yet.

"We don't know where she is. We're looking for her."

"Loki wouldn't tell you?"

"I guess she ran off after Loki was transported home. That's why it's not really a big deal if you don't want to come this weekend. We're thinking she'll turn up here eventually. Here or the facility where her mother is."

"You wanted me to help you find her, is that it?"

"Not at all."

"Damn it, what's your fucking end game here?"

"I told you. Fury wanted me to invite you to the party. I know you don't want to be there, so we can be done here. Unless you have more questions." He said nothing. His head was spinning, trying to figure out what SHIELD wanted him to do so he could do the opposite. "I'm sorry about all this. Do you want me to call you if we find her?"

"Do you think she's dead?"

Darla saw true concern in his face. In his posture. She felt guilt brewing up in her stomach. She knew where Eve had gone. Not exactly where, no, but she could be helping SHIELD find her. There were real people in the world who were worried about her well-being. She was sworn to secrecy and didn't know what the truth was. She didn't know for sure if Eve was alive or not. If she had died-would that be Darla's fault? Because she was too scared of the consequences that would come with telling the truth? Eve had said she was involved in a top secret plan that only Fury knew about. If that was true, why was he going to great lengths to try and find her?

"I think she's hiding, and that when she gets desperate she'll head somewhere familiar. Keep an eye out. Anyway, we have other things we need to do today. Sorry to disturb you."

"It was nice to meet you," Darla said. She was like a child meeting a family member who lived far away. Sam didn't say anything to her. If he'd opened his mouth, he would have thrown opinion after opinion her way. He didn't want to be the one to tell her the truth about her boss. In any case, maybe she was smarter than she looked.

The ladies left and Natasha slid a card with her phone number on it into the bowl that held his keys. He considered tearing it to pieces or lighting it on fire, but turned his back to it instead. How dare she fucking come here, he thought, and tried to return to his book. The paperback couldn't hold his attention even for a moment as he thought about Eve potentially roaming the city, or worse, dead. No matter what she'd done, she was still his best friend. She didn't deserve to die in a gutter for all this. Loki, on the other hand, could go die in as many New York City gutters as would have him.

Sam grabbed his keys and the card with the phone number was stuck to them, so he crammed it in his pocket.

He drove around aimlessly for a while, trying to clear his head. Eventually he couldn't resist any longer. He drove to Eve's house. He could see the caution tape from down the street, and he slowed down to a crawl as he approached, his heart pounding. He pulled over a few houses before he reached it and got out to walk. There was a construction team buzzing around the property. He wandered by on foot, staring, and noticed a worker hanging off to the side with a cigarette. As casually as he could (he surprised himself with how he managed,) he asked what had happened. His eyes never left the wreckage-the giant hole that went straight through the house. The same house where he used to have sleepovers in the living room, go camping in the back yard. The same house where he fell in love with a girl he may never see again.

"We're not supposed to talk about it, bud," said the worker.

"Yeah, alright."

The boss on the job saw him loitering and made a motion with his thumb for him to scram. He trotted back to his car. He gripped the steering wheel tight so that his knuckles turned snow white. What the fuck happened? His thoughts spiraled. A spiteful demon in his gut whispered-So what if she is dead? And he slammed his fist into his radio.

Elsewhere

The Dana's went to sleep feeling frightened. The husband slightly less so, but frazzled nonetheless. The wife cuddled up to him twice as hard, clamping her eyes shut and praying for sleep. Loki and Eve watched from a corner armchair, sipping beers they'd nicked from the fridge. Eve sat on his lap and Sasha made sleepy noises at his feet. She'd been gifted a thick slice of ham but was unable to finish it.

"Shall we finish this?"

"Oh, let them sleep," Eve said, still feeling guilty over the look on the wife's face when she'd torn down the curtains. The married couple had explained the occurrence away with a fight. The wife insisted it was paranormal and the husband blamed shoddy installation. Eventually he'd accused her of distracting the interior decorator by walking around in a short skirt. The interior decorator, she'd informed him, was neither interested in women nor responsible for the installation of the curtain rod. After a few more low blows, they settled into bed.

"We should finish it now. While they're vulnerable," Loki reasoned. The word vulnerable felt so decidedly mean. He sensed her hesitation. "Do you want this place or not?"

"I do, but-" she faltered.

He studied her. Her eyes were on the bed, specifically the wife's face as she struggled to sleep. It was all wrenched up in worried wrinkles. Eve's face was solemn like a nun's. He concluded that her selfish streaks would come and go in waves. When she saw a photo of a home she wanted to call her own, she'd joked about killing the homeowners-the very people before them. So now, with a sad, scared woman in her direct line of sight, she couldn't want for herself.

Loki scooped up the dog and nudged Eve to her feet. "Follow me," he said. He took her down the hall to the glass-paned door.

She stopped a few paces behind him. "I don't want to go back in there."

"Why not? You love it."

"That's exactly why not. I don't think I want to follow through with this. It'll be better if I don't have to-"

He hooked his arm into hers and dragged her the remaining fifteen feet. She fought against his grip and it made her feel feeble. Small. They reached the door and she said, "Loki, please."

"You don't want to say goodbye to it?" His tone trickled temptation down the corners of his mouth. Sweet like sugar cane. She held strong, disapproval her only feeling. He touched her skin and did something he promised he never would again. He found her impulse to see the cove, to swim in its depths forever. He found it and magnified it until it was the size of the sun. Almost real. Almost real enough to erase the night sky. And he hid the pleasant feeling from her, the one that would tell her he was breaking a promise. She found herself thinking just a peek. Then she was through the door, couldn't even remember opening it. Loki's influence faded away, but it hardly mattered. The place looked even better to her than it had before.

"Do you want to dive in?"

She peered over the railing. "I don't think there's a diving board." He conjured one off the edge of the railing, long enough so that it hovered over the deep end. She stared at it before saying, "Nope. No way."

"It's perfectly safe!"

"See, you shouldn't have to say things like that."

In lieu of reply, he gripped her around the waist and lifted her up onto it. She wiggled for a minute until her body was past the railing, then she was rigid and still, terrified. When she looked back she saw he was hovering off the ground. He placed her on the board he'd made and it reacted to her weight like a real diving board would, with a small tremor.

With his hands on her, she felt at least a small semblance of security. When his grip began to loosen, she clamped her hands around his wrists and yelped. Sasha recognized her fear and growled lightly at Loki's pant leg.

"Loki, seriously, please let me down."

"Only if you jump."

"That's insane! I'm not going to! From all the way up here? Absolutely not."

"Why don't you trust me?"

She laughed a spiteful laugh. "This has nothing to do with that. I don't want to do this."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to get my clothes wet, for starters. This is all I have."

In no time at all, she was wearing a neon green bathing suit, her clothes folded neatly on top of a stack of towels. "Solved. Next?"

"I wouldn't say I'm afraid of heights, but I don't like the vertigo that comes with them. I've never been a high dive sort of person. Never. It freaks me out and I'm not comfortable."

"If you ruled your realm, it would be high treason for anyone to ever step out of their comfort zone."

"Hey, fuck you. I'm allowed to not want to do things."

At this, he moved her further out onto the wobbly board, causing her to whimper. Sasha was fully awake and snarling. He joined her up there and let go of her waist. She fell into him, too afraid to take a step, and he kept her at arm's length. "You have no reason to be scared. If you fall, I'll catch you. If you-"

"Loki. I trust you, but I'm not going to do this. To make me would be cruel."

"Perhaps I'm feeling cruel." His face was gravely serious as he realized that the gentle approach he'd been trying to take was no longer working. It never worked for long. She needed a firmer hand.

"What?" Her heart felt grey and ominous.

"If I have to fight you at every turn to get you to be spontaneous, to get you to enjoy this, then maybe I'm not interested in what you want or don't want." He moved forward, pushing her further down the board.

"I have been spontaneous. It's not in my nature, that's all."

"See, I think that might be the problem."

"The problem is you trying to force me. So the fuck what if I don't want to jump off your magic diving board? There are other things I want to do."

Loki advanced again, and they were almost at the edge of the board. Eve was shaking. "Like what? You wanted this house, didn't you? You wanted to take it. But you don't have the guts to go through with it. You will always be this same weak girl."

Her anger made her forget how high up she was. She slammed one foot down for emphasis. "I'm not going to jump to prove something to you. That would make me weak."

"Excuses. Have you ever done a swan dive? They're quite elegant. And from this height-"

She threw her arms up, exasperated, and lost her balance. In an attempt to recover, she clutched his arms unevenly. She was able to regain stability, but at his expense. He fell over the side and, shocked, collided with the edge of the pool. Most of his body hit the water, so he slipped into it after the impact. Around his body, the water was turning black in the uneven lighting.

Without a second thought, Eve dove in after him. It was an elegant, decisive swan dive. In her panic there was an alarming clarity that allowed her to aim precisely. Her body broke the surface to his left and once she'd gotten her head above water, she pushed his floating body to the shallow end. She had to go through the ornate cavern that arched above the center, but didn't take time to enjoy its ambience. Once she could stand, she urged him to sit on the gradual steps at one end.

He seemed unaffected, and pushed hair out of his face before anything else.

"Where are you hurt?" She demanded, not concerned about the hair on her own face.

"I'm not," he said. Droplets cascaded off the pointed clumps of dark hair and down his cheeks.

"You're bleeding," she looked back at where they had been. The water was crystal clear.

"I'm not," he said again.

"You...you hit the side of the pool. Didn't you?"

"I did not."

She climbed up the steps and grabbed a towel off of a rack, draping it around herself in a snug cocoon. "You're a piece of work."

"Do you not like to be excited?"

"That was not exiting, Loki! It was petrifying! I thought you were dying or seriously hurt. What if you'd hit your head?"

He remained lounging in the shallow end, legs floating up in front of him. "Your absolute refusal to understand my powers is baffling. You don't have to know how they work for them to be real. Sometimes I do as many as six impossible things before breakfast, yet you're still in denial. When I fell, I floated over the pool so I could land in it. What you saw was an illusion. Sort of my specialty."

"That's...it's…morbid. Grotesque. To make me see something like that."

"It got you to do what I wanted you to do."

She was almost in tears. Almost, but not quite. She wasn't going to cry over this. "You sick fucking lunatic! Why couldn't you just accept that I didn't want to? That I was uncomfortable?"

"You're right, I didn't accept it. I won't ever accept that. The thing is, if you're going to hold me back from what I want, I can't do this! I can't do this one step forward three steps back thing with you anymore."

She scoffed. "You talk like we've been at this for years."

"My point is that I don't want to be doing this for years."

"Also, what exactly am I holding you back from? I thought your powers knew no limits. What is it that you want?"

At this, he stepped out of the pool and came up to her. Though he was sopping wet, he put his dripping hands on either side of her face. She shivered but didn't back away. "I want to see you truly unbridled. I want to see you putting yourself first. No matter what. Even if it means you'll offend someone or break the rules or make some enemies. You've got my magic at your disposal and you're completely wasting that privilege. I'm not going to be around for you forever."

His last statement stung her. Not like she'd been fantasizing about marrying him someday-well, maybe once in a outlandish dream. She had been trying to take things one day at a time. But to hear him say that he knew he wouldn't be around forever felt eerily final. "So glad you chose to grace me with your presence. Has it ever once occurred to you that maybe I was happy before you showed up? Maybe my over-organized, hyper-scheduled life worked for me."

He snatched a towel off the rack and pressed it to his hair. "No, Eve. That has never even for a second been my opinion. Whether or not it worked for you is debatable. More than that, though, it's irrelevant. That's not your life anymore. Let out the part of you that's happy to leave all the stress of a normal, boring mortal life behind. That's the girl I want to see. The girl I don't have to trick into diving into a pool."

"Oh you want that girl?" She felt her temper scampering away into the darkness where it would be lost forever.

"You heard me."

"Might not be such a wise choice, considering that girl wants to punch you repeatedly in the face. If I thought for a second you'd fight fair-"

He laughed.

"Shut up," she said, "before I make you bleed for real."

He smiled and his teeth glinted off the moonlight. He said, "There she is."