They, meaning the Avengers, have just returned from doing all their daring do, and Darcy knows they're practically fainting from a nice little combination of physical and emotional exhaustion, but mostly from hunger. They're always exhausted after Avenging, even if the mission is only a simple one like playing stand-ins when the Fantastic Four aren't close enough to handle another silly Doombot invasion. The worry of making sure the number of casualties is kept to the minimum, or even better, nonexistent, along with the actual physical part of keeping the threat from being victorious makes for a group of very tired Avengers. Thankfully, the mission that the team is returning from was one of those "easier" missions, and the whole team hadn't technically been needed. However, everyone had gone because Steve had decided to use it to work on their team dynamic in the field. Now, they're coming back, and Darcy is totally prepared to welcome her conquering heroes home with open arms and a fuckton of food.
The plethora of varying take-out food has been ordered and delivered from the team's top four favorite restaurants. It is sitting on the extra-long table that Stark had specially made to hold all the food needed to fill the ginormous stomachs of their resident Asgardian, Super Soldiers (Now, two for the price of one!) and all the other starving Avengers and Co. ™. Jane and Pepper are setting out the dishes and utensils. The labs have been shut down for the night, and any earth-ending or potentially seriously dangerous experiments have been safely put on hold. Now, Darcy is waiting with Dr. Helen Cho near the landing pad for the quinjet with the resident heroes to arrive.
The pair of them only have to wait a few minutes longer before the whooshing sound of the aircraft reaches their ears. Only a moment later, the cloaking of the quinjet is disabled, and they can see the Avengers appearing in the sky. Clint lands the craft on its designated place with practiced ease and grace. Soon, the on and off ramp is lowered, and all of the Avengers are piling out languidly. Once all nine supers have exited and Hellen and Sam have finished saying hello to each other enthusiastically with their lips, Darcy leads the starving group to the awaiting feast. Upon entering the common room, both Thor and Tony break away from the others to sweep their lady-loves off their feet. After the seriously affectionate greetings of the two couples, everyone moves to grab a plate, and then they start filling them with food.
When everyone's plates are piled high with their first serving (because let's just be plainly honest here: one helping may be enough for most normal people, but it's certainly not enough for basically any of Avengers and Co. ™), they meander to the dining table. Darcy ends up sitting with James on one side of her and Birdbrain Barton on the other, basically a bicep sandwich. This placement actually surprises her slightly. Sure, she and Barton are buddies who bicker nonstop, but barely anyone other than Jarvis knows about her Thing with James. In fact, the silver-armed assassin has never sat next to her during family dinner before, and this new development touches her.
Normally, the conversation floating around the table is energetic and animated. However, at the moment, it is dense with the aftermath of the mission still fresh in everyone's minds. A short period of time passes with a tired silence engulfing the group as they all simply eat their meal, building their strength back up. Once everyone has consumed at least one whole plate's worth of food, or two, or more (yes, she's looking at you, Thor, and you, Super Soldier Twinsies, and even you, you smartass little speedster), a couple people try starting up a somewhat lighthearted conversation. Almost unsurprisingly, it's Janey-dear who really succeeds in breaking the icy, saddened cloud that had fallen over the group when she strikes up a conversation with her Science! bro. Brucey on some sciencey topic that Darcy doesn't even try to attempt to understand. Slowly, the sound of their talking begins to sooth the tension away a bit, and voices begin to flow more freely than at the start of the meal-that-is-probably-almost-definitely-big-enough-to-be-considered-a-feast. Soon, the room is filled with lively talking and even boisterous story re-telling from Thor about previous battles he'd fought with the aid of the Warriors Three. People are finally relaxing and enjoying themselves and the meal. Even James isn't tensed up in his seat beside her.
It's loud with their talking. Sometime during Thor's lively storytelling, which just so happens to be about his battle with the Dark Elves in London this time, someone had gotten up to grab the desserts and then placed them on the table. It's loud and animated and everything Darcy Lewis used to be before Suck It, which is what she has aggravatedly dubbed the day she lost her voice. In this long moment, everything is perfectly fine, good even. Life is good. In fact, for now, it's so good, that Darcy can ignore and almost forget about the bad stuff for a bit. She's surrounded by those she considers her friends, her family. For the moment, it's good.
And then the moment ends, and the truth of reality settles in. Everything is not okay, and she's just spitting out bullshit to herself when she tries to convince herself otherwise. She knows that if she were still the same girl she used to be, she'd fit right in with everyone. Hell, she might even have been the life and glue of the party, but she's not the same girl anymore. Life fucked her over because of one stupid ass flip of a switch, and now, even two years later, she's still trying to pick up the pieces of who she used to be to see if she any of it still fits. They don't, not really.
She's not the Darcy Motherfucking Lewis, and the pieces are jagged and worn with experience now. She still enjoys being with her friends and truly is friends with each and every one of them, but she knows that she's the odd man out. Sure, she can still do most anything she used to before Suck It, but the things she can't do are the ones that she always thought to play a huge part in defining herself. When she could speak, she wore her snark and sass like a bright badge. She had a tongue sharp as a damn serrated knife and a vocabulary colorful enough to make a soldier and a sailor blush crimson. And damnit, she was fucking proud of it, too! She took no one's bullshit. Now, she has no voice to sing out sarcastic remarks, and it's nowhere near as satisfying to insult someone through typed up messages on her phone. If she were in an argument and she was actually putting an effort into it, she could win an argument in no time flat. Now, it takes too long, and she's found that the same things that that used to rile her into a heated argument, while are still most likely very important, don't light her up anymore. She could read a situation and know just how someone needed comfort. And while she's still great at deducing how someone needs comforting, it's harder now because how in the world can she try to help someone else gather the pieces when she has no idea how to find hers? Things like these and more are things she won't get back.
Who knew having a voice defined so much of who she thought herself to be? It was ingrained so deep into her system, and even the thought of the possibility of losing it rarely ever crossed her mind. Now, it's a stupid reality that she wishes she didn't have to accept as truth, and she's not really sure where she fits in in this world anymore.
Okay, that's enough! No more pity party, yeah? It's alright. You're still alive, and that's got to count for something…right? she tells herself, worried that if she follows her current train of thought, she'll fall down a rabbit hole that she might not get back out anytime soon. A frown curls her lips downwards, and her brow furrows. She scans the table for something to distract her from her thoughts. Her eyes find the plate of chocolate peanut butter brownies at the opposite end of the table from her, sitting innocently right in front of Thor. After a moment of searching for a tasty something that is closer to her and not finding something as appetizing now that her mind is filled with delicious brownie, she decides she must have one (or, you know, maybe more) of those chocolate yummies.
She pokes Clinton in the bicep (ooh, lip-smacking biceps), and, despite his asshole tendencies, he actually turns his head towards her attentively. "Yeah, Darce? Whatcha need?" he asks. While he can be a jerkass during 98% of the time, when they're at meals, he somehow manages to rein his jerkiness in during family dinners because he always makes sure he doesn't ignore her if she's asking for food. She points as the plate of confectionary that she desires and mouths brownies please. He nods in understanding.
And it's okay. For now, in this moment, things are fine again.