Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter 4
January 30, 2012 – Manhattan, New York – Stark Tower
It was a unanimous decision that Darcy and Natasha be stuck in a room together to work on things. And, by unanimous, it was meant that Clint decided. Natasha thought that a therapist might be a better fit, but Darcy was stubborn about learning her past. She had even let JARVIS scan her for the tracker that Natasha was so worried about.
For the past week, she'd met daily with the redhead. She'd brought her journal along and Natasha answered all the questions she could, but there were still many blanks that needed to be filled in.
"Do you remember much about the Red Room?"
Darcy tilted her head to the side. "I remember meeting you. I remember…pain. There's not much I can remember other than that."
"Sirena."
She sat ramrod straight. Her mind going blank as she stared at the redhead intently.
"Darcy."
"What the fuck," she breathed, shaking out her limbs. She swallowed convulsively. Her eyes blinked as she controlled her breathing. "What the fuck was that? What – "
"That was your codename. It was assigned to you before you reached the Red Room." Natasha rapped her fingernails against the granite of the counters as she looked out the window at the dimming sky. "I never met your handler, just those assigned to the case at the KGB and occasionally HYDRA. My handler and you were…close. You recognized him from before the Red Room and he knew you. I lost track of you after we recovered you in Brooklyn in '55. Don't give me that look; we both had very similar injections that keep us from aging as quickly. You…maybe not at all."
"Recovered me?" She asked. Her bottom lip was tugged between her teeth in worry as her pen stilled over the pages of her journal. "What…who was with you? What happened?"
Natasha's body stilled, clearly distancing herself from the memory to give her the facts without the emotions that came with them. "In 1952, you were dropped in New York City to test your programming. You were completely wiped, left with no memories. HYDRA watched you, watched you get a job and find housing. When you started getting too close to remembering, my handler and I were sent to retrieve you.
"You didn't go without a fight. I…" Natasha looked away, shame coloring her face. "I was forced to use your trigger words to make you come quietly. It was as much of a test for me as it was for you."
She reached out and held Natasha's hand across the table. "I don't blame you. I have a feeling we were…friends?"
"Like sisters," the redhead whispered back. "I wouldn't have survived the Red Room if it wasn't for you. When you…when I lost contact with you, I feared the worst. I lost you and my handler. It was…it would've been debilitating to anyone else."
Darcy smiled softly before her face turned serious again. "My trigger words…what are they?"
"I can write them down for you; I don't want to risk releasing Sirena. Especially because you've made so much progress."
"Your handler…did I – "
"He was called Soldat." Natasha cringed at saying it. "But you were close. As close as HYDRA would let you be."
February 2, 2012 – Manhattan, New York – Stark Tower
"Stone. Kamen," Darcy read, looking down at Natasha's neat writing.
It was her first trigger word. A first on a long list that the redhead had been hesitant to hand over.
"Do you have any idea what it might be referring to? Trigger words normally have a basis in your life before," Natasha explained. "If we can narrow it down, we might be able to free you of them."
"Stone…"
The cold was starting to creep into the old concrete building and, not for the first time, she longed to have a blanket warm enough to sustain the chill.
"The orphanage in the city," she recalled, writing as she spoke, "It was always so cold because it was a huge concrete – stone – building. I didn't have a blanket that was warm enough. One of my first memories is of the cold there." She looked back at the list and pronounced the word slowly. "Family. Sem'ya."
"Maybe that's tied into the orphanage?"
She shook her head. "I was…I was adopted. The…fuck, the Dorsetts? They adopted me when I was still little." With a sigh, she went on to the next word. "Fire. Ogon. I don't know this one. I was in a circus with Clint, but I don't know about…before. And these trigger words were in place before that."
Natasha reached across the table and put a little star next to that one as Darcy read off the next one.
"Ink. Chernila. Dawn. Rassvat." She tapped the pen against her lips. "I sold…newspapers. I had to get up at dawn to make it to Brooklyn on time. Someone walked me there and I had to be up at dawn so I wouldn't miss him."
Dawn was waking up the sleepy city of Brooklyn and she spotted a newsie on the corner that she used to sell her own papers at.
Natasha nodded. "Also the time we had to get up in the Red Room."
"Thunder. Grom. I've always hated storms. We didn't have a lot of thunder in Brooklyn and when it happened…I'd hide in the broom closet downstairs at the orphanage." Her pen glided across the paper before she put a star next to the next word. "Ribbon. Lenta. I'll pass on that one. Sixteen. Shestnadtsat. The age I lost my virginity to…to Stevie."
"That's a story I'd like to hear," the redhead said wolfishly before laughing at the look on the brunette's face. "I'm kidding, myshka."
Darcy colored. "I'm not good at girl talk," she muttered, blue eyes glued to the paper. "Circus. Tsirk. Huh, maybe I was part of a circus before Clint. That would explain why I'd go back to it." She paused and puzzled over the last word. "Platit…apology? Regret…"
"Atonement," Natasha supplied, her eyes looking as heavy as she felt. "Atonement for something you did, maybe?"
Darcy pinched the bridge of her nose, trying not to focus on the ache that was growing in her head. "I…I left them when I was…before I left for Russia. I can't remember though."
The redhead watched the other woman's tells closely, deciding to call it a day. "You've worked out a lot today. Maybe we could continue tomorrow."
She gave her a thankful smile. "You're the best, Talia."
February 5, 2012 – Manhattan, New York – Stark Tower
Ten punches and the second bag flew off of the hook and landed somewhere near the first one. Steve grunted in annoyance and retrieved a third bag, hanging it just as a throat cleared behind him.
"You seem more tense than usual."
Blue eyes landed on the Black Widow's lithe form and he nodded curtly. His knuckles were swollen and there were heavy circles under his eyes, but he was somehow still on his feet. "You've been more relaxed lately," he noted, watching a small grin flitter across her face before it was gone. "It's not a bad thing, Nat."
"You and I are not so different," she said quietly, stalking towards him. "This world is hard to adjust to, no?"
"At least you were awake for it." He didn't mean for his words to come across as snide as they did and he immediately backpedaled. "That's not what I meant – you've just been able to see the world change. I'm still expectin' to wake up in my apartment in Brooklyn and have my best friend ribbin' me 'bout forgettin' my inhaler or wakin' up to a face full of my girl's hair – " he stopped abruptly, shaking his head. "It's a different world out there. A different time."
She watched as he gave the bag a halfhearted hit. "You're doing well, though. Better than me before I had my myshka."
"You're…what?"
"Myshka." Natasha shrugged, "Sirena. Serena. We've been playing around with names to get her more comfortable with her past."
He nodded. "Clint's girl?" At Natasha's head tilt, he elaborated. "Well, she lives with him. I assumed."
"She is his girl, but he was her boy first," she said cryptically.
"That's…less than helpful, Nat." He shook his head and flexed his hands. He hadn't really boxed before; Goldie's Gym was before the serum and the bag had made a hell of an opponent. He'd watched Bucky wail on a bag dozens of times, always needing his knuckles taped up because he refused to wear gloves. "She doesn't come out much, though."
"She made cookies."
Steve gave a half-shrug. "But she didn't introduce herself."
The redhead had a wicked gleam in her eye as she purred, "Are you interested in meeting her, Steven?"
"No! I mean, not like that," he finished awkwardly. The tips of his ears were warm and he knew he was blushing. He was never good with dames. Except Darcy.
"It's probably for the best," she continued, barely glancing at him. "Once she gets her bearing, she'll probably eat you alive."
February 17, 2012 – Manhattan, New York - Stark Tower
"What do you mean I'm moving?"
Clint looked up at her bashfully as he sat down on the couch in their apartment. "I have to go on a mission and I don't want you cooped up here without me – "
"Like that would be such a bad thing."
"It is when you only ever talk to me or Nat! I'm not saying that I want you talkin' to everyone else, but I got a different place for you to stay in the meantime."
Darcy huffed and sat down on the couch next to him, her arms folded across her chest. Her teeth gnawed at the inside of her cheek. "So, you want me to leave the tower? What…what happens if…what will happen?"
He turned sideways and took one of her hands in both of his, rubbing it reassuringly. "I don't know what's gonna happen, Darce, and I'm not gonna lie to you. Going undercover for Fury can be dangerous, but I've done it before – what are you doing? Come back here!" He was on his feet and following her into her bedroom.
"If you go, I go, too." Her face was set as she stuffed clothes into her worn backpack. She would not allow him to go alone. Going undercover would be easy; she'd done it enough in her life.
"Darcy, stop."
She could snag a pair of boots from the armory and get a Kevlar vest or two. There was a set of blades underneath her mattress that she'd taken from Clint's room and she was sure she could get a couple loaner pistols. The taser was still in her messenger bag and she'd have to charge it. Maybe she had time to get some practice in at the gym –
"Darcy!"
The brunette stopped. Her mind was going a mile a minute. The fabric of her backpack was clutched in her hand and she knew she must look a little crazy. Hell, crazy probably looked saner.
"You aren't going with me," he said firmly, taking the bag from her grasping hands and tossing it onto the bed. Clint cradled her face in his large hands and peered into her eyes. "You've gotta stay safe. I can't risk HYDRA getting you again, sweetheart. I'm – "
"You're my kid," she said with such conviction that his hands dropped from her face. "I'm not letting you go off on your own with some stupid mission that Fury thought up and pulled out of his ass."
"I'm not letting you go."
Darcy clenched her jaw. "You're not my keeper."
"No, I'm not," he agreed. He pulled her into his strong arms and tucked her head under his chin. "But you can't go. I got a little farm all set up for you in a tiny town in Iowa. When I get back, we'll take to Fury and get you cleared for duty. You can join the Avengers and kick my ass all day. But I need you to be safe first."
She melted into his chest and nodded. It was hard trying to reconcile the fierce protectiveness that the old Darcy felt and the powerful attraction she felt as the new Darcy. It was confusing to want to mother-hen Clint to death and then want to ride him like a horse. She looked upwards and nuzzled her nose against his jaw.
Clint's lips brushed against the top of her head and he sighed. "God, Darce. I don't wanna leave you behind. I want…I want to just take you and go live on that farm. I shouldn't've signed up for this without asking you – "
"You did ask me and I said yes. I could've stayed in the apartment since I know you're still paying for it."
He rolled his eyes and pulled back from her just a little. "You know what I mean."
His eyes were green. Her favorite color. Stubble adorned his cheek and his brows pulled together as he watched her stare at him. A small wire wrapped around his left ear from the Stark-enhanced hearing aid that she knew was tucked behind it. Apparently, his hearing would return, but the blast he'd been right next to in Budapest was a little more potent than doctors had thought.
She fingered the wire delicately and gave him a small smile. "I'll go where you want me to, but I'm not going to be happy about it. I plan on being next to you next time. On the front lines, defending this stupid rock from whatever danger it attracts."
They were still practically chest to chest and she saw Clint swallow nervously when her fingernails bit into the soft skin of his hip where his shirt had ridden up.
"Sweetheart – "
"I'm sorry," she said, backing away from him. Her back hit the wall and she felt the breath whoosh from her lungs. Her hands itched to touch him, but her mind was yelling at her for being so stupid.
"No, Darce – "
"It's fine," she whispered. She plastered a smile on her face and slipped past him to grab the backpack on the bed. It would be big enough to carry all of her stuff. She still hadn't replaced her raggedy Converse. She pointedly avoided looking at him as she packed. She couldn't…she wouldn't let herself slip into an awkward space that would cost her Clint. "So, when do I leave?"
He cleared his throat. "Nat will take you there. Two hour flight and she'll make sure you get settled."
February 22, 1012 – Manhattan, New York – Stark Tower
Darcy didn't want to go. She liked the tower, but Clint had a point. She only really interacted with him and Natasha and, more rarely, Tony. A life at the tower wasn't really an option without her…family.
Her flight was scheduled to leave in a few hours and Natasha was waiting for her in the lobby, but she wasn't really ready to say goodbye.
"Sweetheart, you ready?"
She zipped up her backpack and slung it over her shoulder as she made her way into the living room. The sight of Clint in his tactical gear made her stomach flip uncomfortably. He had a bow slung across his back and he looked ready for anything.
It wasn't really planned the way she flung herself into his arms. His vest was hard against her cheek and tears pricked her eyes.
"Aw, Darcy, no."
She sniffled. "Please don't go."
"I don't have a choice. Nat'll – "
"Natalia isn't you."
He sighed and hugged her tighter. "I know, sweetheart, I know. But I'm gonna come back to you. I promise."
"You better, soldier."
February 28, 2012 – Manhattan, New York – Stark Tower
"The lounge is empty, Captain."
Steve meandered into the room, looking at the empty carafe of coffee. It hadn't been full all week. He suspected that it hadn't even been used.
"JARVIS, is…Barton's girlfriend okay?"
"Mr. Barton's roommate has been relocated in his absence. I am unsure of when she will return."
The blond nodded to himself. Barton was assigned to monitor a surge of oddities that were happening across Germany, due to Fury's orders. He knew he'd have to step in if necessary, but he wasn't looking forward to it.
"She's…safe, right, JARVIS? Barton…"
"I shall inquire."
"What? No, wait – "
"She is fine," the AI responded after a beat. "Mr. Barton insisted that I have access to her location to monitor her needs."
Steve gave a small smile. "Good. Is it possible that you can let me know if she needs anything, too?"
"Of course, Captain."
May 1, 2012 – Iowa
Darcy hung upside down by her knees on the rope she'd tied between the two of the tallest trees behind the small farmhouse Clint had stuck her in.
Natalia had left after just a day and Darcy was beginning to feel a little stir-crazy. She had JARVIS to talk to through the speakers in the house – which she'd learned yesterday when he asked her how she was. She figured it was Clint trying to reach her because he was on a blackout.
"Fuck," she muttered when she slipped and thudded against the ground on her hip. She groaned and rolled over, staring at the blue sky.
She thought that getting back to her roots as a performer might help her remember a bit more. But, as of right now, it was just a pain.
Limping back into the house, she grabbed an icepack out of the freezer and stuffed it in her boyshorts against her hip, hissing at the cold.
"Ms. Lewis, are you all right?"
She startled a bit at his voice, but righted herself. "Yeah, I'm okay, J-Man. Any word from Clint?"
"There has been no check in."
She sighed. Of course not.
May 2, 2012 – Unknown Location
"I mean, if it's not too much trouble."
Agent Coulson had to be the most awkward man that Steve had ever met. But, apparently, he was very good at his job and acted as a liaison for Fury with the Avengers.
He knew it was only a matter of time before he was called in to help. Barton had gone off the grid shortly after he left, but he'd imagined it was because of the communication blackout, not being compromised.
The helicarrier he'd boarded was larger than anything he'd ever imagined. And the fact that it managed to fly was beyond him.
"No-no, it's fine."
"It's a vintage set," the other man said, holding up the collectible cards with a child-like smile on his face. "Took me a couple years to collect them all. Near mint, slight fading around the edges, but – "
"We got a hit. Sixty-seven percent match. Wait – cross-match – seventy-nine percent."
The man that was so concerned about his trading cards snapped into professional mode. "Location?"
"Stuttgart, Germany. He's not exactly hiding."
Fury looked up from the screen and jerked his chin towards the blond. "Captain, you're up."
"Kneel!"
Steve flitted through the crowd and had his shield plastered to his arm. A dark-haired man with a golden horned crown stood above all the others and he gritted his teeth. He knew that the quinjet was hovering nearby waiting for his signal with the Black Widow as the pilot.
"Kneel before me. I said KNEEL!" There was a pause before he spoke again. "Is this not simpler? Is this not your natural state? It's the unspoken truth of humanity, that you crave subjugation. The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life's joy in a mad scramble for identity. You were made to be ruled. In the end, you will always kneel."
He bided his time, watching as an old man stood up and bit out, "Not to men like you."
"There are no men like me."
The God fired the scepter he was holding and Steve saw his opening.
He ran forward, jumping in front of the old man. The beam of light bounced off of his shield, hitting the other man square in the chest.
"You know, the last time I was in Germany and saw a man standing above everybody else, we ended up disagreeing." Steve's voice was crisp and firm, making it known that he was not someone to mess with.
"The soldier," the God said as he rose to his feet. "The man out of time."
"I'm not the one who's out of time."
The quinjet fired behind him as the crowd ran, but Steve wasted no time slinging his shield towards the enemy. The com buzzed in his ear and he ducked as a jet of light barreled towards him.
"Guy's all over the place. I'm guessing it's Barton," the Widow's voice said through the com. "And Stark's here."
The red and gold suit flew through the air. A repulsor blast knocked the God off his feet once more and Tony's suit had about ten different guns and firearms pointed at him.
"Make a move, reindeer games."
Steve watched in fascination as the God's battle armor melted away and was replaced by a fitted black suit. He raised his hands in submission as Steve walked towards Tony.
"Mr. Stark."
"Captain."
"He's been compromised, myshka." There was a pause. "In the barn." Another pause. "I will come get you when necessary." A small smile. "Yes, myshka."
Steve watched as the Widow clicked off her earpiece. He assumed her…myshka was Clint's girlfriend. Especially with how she went from unfeeling and cold to heartfelt and reassuring.
He shook his head and looked back at Loki, making sure he was strapped down appropriately. "I don't like it."
Tony glanced up from his watch, his eyebrow cocked to the side. "What? Rock of Ages giving up to easily?"
"I don't remember it being that easy," he shrugged. "This guy packs a wallop."
"Still, you were pretty spry for an older fellow," the brunet replied flippantly. "What's your thing? Pilates?"
"What?" He hoped he didn't have to add that to his book of things to look up.
Tony shrugged as he retrieved a bag of blueberries from seemingly nowhere. "It's like calisthenics. You might have missed a couple of things. Y'know, doing time as the Capsicle."
"Fury didn't tell me he was calling you in."
"Yeah, there's a lot of things that Fury doesn't tell you."
A flash of lightening and a clap of thunder caused Steve to make his way towards the narrow window and look out. Natasha perked up and asked, "Where's that coming from?"
Loki shuddered and leaned forward before looking around.
"What's the matter?" Steve asked, his brows furrowed, "Scared of a little lightening?"
"I'm not overly fond of what comes after."
May 2, 2012 – Iowa
"He's been compromised, Myshka."
Darcy stared at the ceiling blankly. In a matter of seconds it felt like her whole world was coming down around her. How could Clint be compromised? He was too fast for that, too good. Shaking her head, she asked, "Where's my bag? The bag with the gear that I know you hid for me."
"In the barn."
She nodded to herself and got off the couch.
"I will come get you when necessary."
"You promise?"
"Yes, myshka."
"Ms. Romanoff has disconnected, Ms. Lewis."
It didn't take long for her to find the bug out bag in the barn. It was filled with weapons and a catsuit and, thankfully, a pair of boots in her size. She'd stashed the blades in her backpack and she was thankful that she'd had the foresight to bring them.
When she was back in the house, she did inventory as she spoke with the AI.
"How fast can I have a plane at my disposal, J-Man?"
"Ms. Potts is inquiring as to what you need a quinjet for, Ms. Lewis."
Darcy wiggled into the skintight suit, happy that it hid the little pooch she'd acquired. The boots were next and she laced them up as tight as she could stand them. She huffed as she braided her hair back. "I would like to go back to the tower seeing as Clint is…indisposed."
JARVIS replied after a few moments. "A quinjet will be arriving shortly."
She had her blades strapped to her back and one in her boot while her pistols were holstered on her hips. She stuffed her yellow shoes and her sweater into her backpack with the rest of her clothes and locked up the house behind her.
"Jay, you're piloting this, right?"
"Yes, Ms. Lewis. I will be piloting you to New York. Sir, Ms. Romanoff, and the Captain will not be arriving for an undeterminable amount of time. They will be spending time with SHIELD."
Darcy strapped herself in behind the controls and willed her training to come forward. Something to help her get to New York in one piece and save Clint.
"Where's Clint, JARVIS?" She asked as the quinjet soundlessly launched into the air. "I mean, where was the last time you had a hit off his tracker?"
"Ms. Lewis, I don't understand."
Her hands smoothed over her thighs nervously. "The tracker in his hearing aid. Tony installed it as a failsafe."
"I was unaware. One moment please."
She took a moment to check the clock, noticing that the sun should be rising soon. The quinjet would make it to New York in under an hour. She knew she should be tired, but she was way too wired to sleep. Too worried thinking about what was happening with Clint. Where he was, if he was okay.
"Mr. Barton is currently aboard the SHIELD helicarrier – "
Darcy jolted. "How fast can you get me there, Jay?"
"I cannot deviate from the assigned path, Ms. Lewis."
"And what can I do to override your programming?"
"Sir has programmed me – "
"J-Man, I don't want to compromise our friendship, but I could hack you if I tried. Now, I need to get to Clint. You can either drop me off or I can override you to get there. What's it gonna be?"
There was silence before the jet veered off path, causing a smile to tug at Darcy's lips.
"I will ensure you make it to the SHIELD helicarrier. I trust in your abilities to not get yourself killed."
"You're a peach, Jay."
"He really grows on you, doesn't he?" Banner asked, a self-deprecating smile on his lips as he scrubs his hand over his face. The small screen to his left shut off, causing the inhabitants of the makeshift lab to look around at each other.
Steve sighed. "Loki's gonna drag this out, even with Fury interrogating him. So, Thor, what's his play?"
The large Asgardian God tilted his head, his shoulder length blond hair sweeping to the side as he though about it. "He has an army called the Chitauri. They're not of Asgrad nor any world known. He means to lead them against your people. They will win him the earth, in return, I suspect for the Tesseract."
"An army from outer space?" Steve asked. This was definitely not what he sighed up for.
Banner nodded in understanding. "So, he's building another portal. That's what he needs Erik Selvig for."
"Selvig?"
"He's an astrophysicist," Banner explained.
"He's a…friend."
Steve shook his head at Thor and sighed. "I wanna know why Loki let us take him. He's not leading an army from here."
Natasha looked up from the screen she was studying and sighed. "Loki has them under some kind of spell. He's got Selvig and one of ours – "
"I don't think we should be focusing on Loki," Banner thought out loud. His fist was clenching and unclenching in his pocket as sort of a distraction to himself. "That guy's brain is a bag full of cats; you can smell crazy on him."
Thor's hammer thudded against the table between them menacingly as he managed to bite out, "Have care with how you speak. Loki is beyond reason, but he is of Asgard, and he is my brother."
"He killed eighty people in two days," the Widow quipped, dragging the death records up on her screen as the God squirmed.
"He's adopted?"
Steve tuned them all out after a while. Aliens and spaceships and it was all a lot to process. It hadn't even been a year since he woke up. Adjusting was going well, in his opinion, but there was still so much to cope with.
Some days he woke up in his bed at Stark Tower with tears in his eyes because he'd dreamt that he had his girl in his arms and his best guy next to her. He dreamt that it was still before the war, before she'd left, and it killed him. He'd wandered down to the market a few days ago, wondering if it was still the same and it was. No one had bought the property yet. The apartment was much of the same, too, despite the layer of dust that was on everything.
Bucky had used quite a bit of an advance from the bank to get it bought before he'd left for war so Steve wouldn't have to worry about paying rent while he was away. It still looked like how he'd left it when he went off to Camp Lehigh.
"Wait, you put a tracker in his hearing aid? Are you serious?"
Natasha's voice pulled him out his thoughts and he idly wondered when Tony had arrived. Judging by how the redhead was prowling around him, she was very unhappy. And when the Widow was unhappy, heads normally rolled.
"I forgot about it! If it wasn't for short stack, I wouldn't've remembered at all. It was her idea, y'know."
Steve put his hand on his hip and rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You've had a tracker on Barton this whole time and you forgot?" He pinched his nose and let out a deep breath. Thank god that Barton's girlfriend paid attention. "Well, where is he?"
"I'm so glad you asked," Tony said as tapped his watch. A hologram erupted from it, showing the helicarrier and a few blinking dots. "So, those two are you and Romanoff. And that one way over there is Barton. Which…" he trailed off.
"Means he's here. Under Loki's control," Natasha finished, pulling a pistol out of the holster on her hip. "And it's possible that he's brought that army."
"J-Man, you got an extra com so I can keep in touch with you?"
"There is an earpiece in the drawer next to the controls."
Darcy retrieved it and fitted it over her ear, satisfied that it worked just fine.
"Might I also recommend the mask. The air is quite thin with the high altitude – "
"Thanks, Jay."
Her body was thrumming with anticipation and she wanted nothing more than to be back on the ground, safe in her little farmhouse. Preferably with Clint. There was no way that she'd be leaving here without him. Come hell or high water, she'd wrangle his stubborn ass back into her borrowed quinjet.
Scouring the jet caused her to come up with a grappling gun, a few widow bites, and now the mask. In her own opinion, she looked pretty kick ass with her catsuit and big boots and the half mask that allowed her to breath without dying. She was a little concerned because she didn't know how far she could push her body without breaking, but her journals indicated that she was a force to be reckoned with. She had to take her at her own word, she supposed.
Her eyes caught movement and suddenly a helicarrier was right in front of her. "Holy shit."
"Would you like me to drop you off at the entrance or would you like to accost Mr. Barton while he attempts to take down the helicarrier?"
Darcy spotted Clint shooting seemingly in the wrong direction before his arrow was blown back into one of the engines of the carrier.
"This is gonna suck," she mumbled mostly to herself before she shook her head. "Get me as close as you can and then hover nearby if possible. I don't want to fall to my death if I can avoid it."
"Of course, Ms. Lewis. Good luck."
When the back of the quinjet opened, Darcy took one breath to steal her nerves before literally diving out of the plane. The air whipped around her face and she was thankful for the little mask. She did a tuck and roll, landing on the edge of the helicarrier just as it exploded.
"JARVIS, what the fuck!"
"Apologies, Ms. Lewis. Mr. Barton has detonated his arrow, causing the engine to malfunction."
"For the love of Thor," she groaned, hanging by the edge as the engine sputtered. Her leg swung up and she managed to get herself safely onto the part of the engine that wasn't on fire. "I've gotta have a death wish."
With a running leap, she jumped onto the center of the engine, her knees smacking against the unforgiving metal as she assessed the damage. Clint's arrow had completely blown it out, but if she could manually start it, it might keep the carrier in the sky. She wasn't sure how many engines this thing had, but she'd do her best.
"JARVIS, can you connect me to Tony?"
"Yes, Ms. Lewis."
Darcy grabbed a blade from her back and dug it into the metal of the wing, hoping it would keep her from being bucked off as it nosedived once again.
"Short stack, what're you doing here? Barton's gonna shoot me again," Tony whined as he sidled up next to her in his full Iron Man suit. "What do we got here…"
"Super conducting cooling system needs to get back online," Darcy said, pointing towards the center of the swirling vortex of death. "Then you can fly to the rotors and work on getting all the shit outta there that doesn't belong."
"Damn. Gonna keep you around, short stack." Tony flew to the other side and spoke into his com as he surveyed the damage. He used his repulsor to blast a piece of metal away from the rotors. "You plannin' on going inside? Clint's trying to get to Reindeer Games and - "
"On it."
"Who the hell is that?"
"Short stack, Capsicle. She's here for Barton."
Steve blinked out the gaping hole of the engine and focused on the slender form of a girl. She didn't seem too tall, but she was able to swing herself around on the wing like she was born to do it. He nearly had a heart attack when he watched her grab a stray wire and swing past him into the helicarrier.
"You sure she's not planning on killing him?"
"Not really my problem!"
The catwalk was rickety beneath her feet, but she knew she was light enough to move soundlessly. Clint was in front of her, walking stiffly with purpose.
"Clint – wait! Hold on!"
It took her by surprise when he turned around and shot an arrow at her. She narrowly avoided it by swinging herself off the catwalk and back on again, her foot collided with his chest and threw him against the railing when she found her feet once more.
"I'm not gonna hurt you! Stop it!"
His hand wrapped around her throat and held her up, the tips of her boots barely touching the ground.
"Clint! Please!" She gasped out. When he didn't let go, she pulled another blade from her back and slashed his arm. Her knees slammed against the harsh metal of the ground and she struggled to get breath in her lungs as his foot seemingly came out of nowhere and kicked her halfway across the catwalk. Doing a backwards summersault, she ended up back on her feet, dodging his hit as he tried to smack her with his bow. Her fingers wound around the string and pulled it back, grimacing when she heard it bounce off his face.
As soon as Clint staggered back, she grabbed his left arm and shoved his face against the railing, cringing when she heard a sickening smack.
He slipped to the ground and looked up at her, the blue tint still coloring his eyes. "Darcy?"
She hauled back and punched him hard. And again. And again.
It wasn't until he was slumped against the ground unconscious that she timidly asked, "JARVIS?"
"Yes, Ms. Lewis?"
She swallowed. "Can you connect me to Talia?"
"Romanoff."
Darcy sobbed at the sound of her voice. "Can you come get me and Clint? We're on a catwalk on…fuck the south side of the carrier? Ask JARVIS. He's got a quinjet waiting and I need to get out of here."
"I'm on my way, myshka."
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~Grace
