Prompt 5 - Vow
Darcy Lewis
Rating: G
Why are you here?
God, it's stupid to be so freaked out over a mind game, a cheap trick meant to turn her around, but she is.
There is no reason for her to be here. Nothing driving her, nothing that gets her out of bed every morning. She's not fighting for America, or trying to prove that she's better than what her father thought of her, or to show that she's worthy of being a leader.
Even Clint and Natasha, with their mysterious origins are in this for something.
But why are you here, Darcy? The challenge was pointed, and it stung.
She mulls it over for days, sinking lower and lower into a dark swirl of self-doubt. There's nothing special about her, hell, she can't even remember to water the plants in her hole of an apartment. How is she supposed to pull her weight when she's incapable of taking care of herself?
Pepper ends up helping her solve the mystery - neurotic Pepper with her mother henning ways, who likes to hover over everyone and make sure that everything is buttoned up.
"How do you do it?" Darcy asks.
"Do what?"
"You're just you, a normal everyday Joe, but not one of them can live without you. Every damn one of the crew needs you. How do you do that?"
Pepper smiles and lays her phone on her desk. She's pretty in a waif sort of way, with an earthiness about her that lures people in. It's impossible not to feel comfortable with Pepper, to trust that she'll do whatever it takes to help you in a pinch.
"I'm just who I am, Darcy. If I tried to be anything but that, I'd fail."
When she smiles, it's like the Mona Lisa, lips pressed together as if she's holding back some great revelation.
"There is only one you, and it's easy to lose that in all this greatness, but I can tell you one thing." Pepper leans forward, her arms braced against her desk for support. "They are great, but we're normal. We've got strengths and skills that they can't have, simply because of their greatness. That's what makes us so necessary. We round out what they're missing."
"So you're the mom slash big sister…" Darcy prompts. She's trying to extend the logic, to figure out her slot in the whole scheme. It makes sense, there isn't a lot of normal, but it still doesn't help her slot in anywhere that matters.
"And you're the one person who can keep everyone from taking themselves too seriously," Pepper replies. "What's life without laughter?"
Darcy mulls on that for a long time, deconstructing and redesigning the argument. At first, it feels like a mulligan, an easy answer to a difficult problem. That's until she really pays attention, picking apart the details of each scene until she sees the fit.
It's kind of like Shakespeare, which makes her Falstaff to Prince Hal. She's a conceptual sidekick, one who lends brevity when times are tough. While it's not the most glamorous description, the mantle fits, and Darcy decides to slip the mantle on with pride. She makes herself a solemn promise – to always be the one who can look at the worst and make light, to embed inappropriate pop culture references and pull in the light when things get too dark.
She'll wear the clown shoes and blow up the whoopee cushion because that's who she is, and it's what she can bring to the table. It might not seem like much, but being Don Rickles isn't a bad thing if it means that you have a justified spot at the table and you never have to explain why.