Okay, next to final chapter I think. Unless something strikes me upside the head. Which may or may not happen. Anyway, I apologize in advance for anything too crazy with this chapter. I started and stopped on it several times before finishing it last night. Also, these past few weeks have been...hellish might be a bit strong, but yeah. If I didn't know better, I'd say someone was trying to kill me. Anyway, one with the story. Also, please see the end notes before making any comments on the chapter. I've got a few things to say there that I can't say here.
Also, a big thank you to everyone who's reviewed. I'm glad you guys like this piece as much as I like writing it.
Enjoy,
Illusinia
This is really bad, thought Darcy as she dodged behind a over-turned cafe table just as an explosion struck the wall directly behind her. Without thinking, she covered her head. Really, really bad.
Almost two weeks after Odin and Frigga's visit, things had just about returned to normal. There hadn't been any major disturbances or issues that required the Avengers assistance, so everyone was training or relaxing. Or trying to find out more about her and Derek, though that was mostly Tony's doing. That had ended that afternoon while she was out getting some coffee.
She hadn't been happy when she stepped out of the coffee shop to find small, magic-run robot spiders running a muck through the city. Those were the biggest pain in the ass to catch. Her temper was further pricked when a few of the devices decided to attack her, forcing her to drop the coffee she'd been holding in favor of freezing a few of the monsters in ice and taking cover behind the aforementioned table.
Sadly, her magic was too weak in this form for her to do much more. Attempting to freeze all of the robots in time might result in the Avengers being frozen as well. Plus, there were simply too many and freezing an entire city seemed like a bad idea anyway.
Peeking over the top of the table, she noted arrows raining down on the battle from above courtesy of Clint. A few robots went flying into walls near by, probably from Steve tossing them around like rag dolls. Several more exploded not far away.
At first, she thought Tony had pulled out the big guns but quickly realized Natasha had apparently hit something explosive that managed to create a miniature crater in the middle of the street. The city was going to love that one.
Tony was currently zooming around overhead, picking off the small robots while attempting to fend off the advances of several larger bots as well. One of which fired a bolt of lightning at the genius that sent him crashing to the ground beside Darcy's makeshift shield. His suit made a really nasty cracking sound as it hit the cement not far away, then the brick of the building.
Without much thought, she fired off the time-freeze spell at the larger enemy and ran to where Tony was laying on the ground. "Tony? Dude, get up! Come on!" She picked up his upper body, shaking it slightly in an attempt to rouse the man. When she still got no response, she started trying to find the emergency release.
Inside the suit, Darcy could hear a voice echoing from the built-in comms. "Tony! Are you there? Tony!" Steve's voice sounded a little frantic, not that Darcy could blame him. It was always worrisome when anyone didn't give a comm response.
"Steve!" shouted Darcy, attempting to be heard through the armor. "Steve, can you hear me?" Apparently Steve couldn't, because he shouted for Thor to look for Tony while he continued to take down the smaller bots.
She managed to finally find the emergency release and open the armor, just as a really freaking bad sound echoed from behind her. Slowly, eyes wide, Darcy turned towards the sound. And nearly dropped the chest plate from Tony's armor on his head, which he so didn't need. More brain damage wouldn't help the genius. Then again, neither would getting crushed. Which was what was about to happen. Potentially.
The really freaking bad sound had come from a giant version of the smaller bots. One that was nearly the size of a small sky scraper. And round. With spider-like legs and a giant spinning crystal inside a transparent dome on top of its head. Well, at least now she knew what the damn thing was. Unfortunately, no one else would. And she had no way to contact them. Double damn.
Glancing back at Tony, she made a quick decision and hoisted him up, moving him inside the shop while abandoning his armor outside. He'd be pissed when he woke up, but at least this way his chances of getting crushed like an aluminum can were reduced.
Slightly.
Dodging back outside, she managed to slip into the shadows and sneak the rest of the way to where the giant spider-bot was attempting to crush Thor with a pair of claws that had extended out of freaking no where. Thank god it's not one of the ones with an electric sword. Those had absolutely sucked the one time she'd had to take one down with Derek. Too bad Frankenstein's research didn't remain buried with her.
If anyone asked, she'd deny to this day that the book Frankenstein was based on reality. Even though it really was. The joys of being an immortal: you learned shit you never wanted to learn in your life. Like how to bring the dead back to life. I'm very glad those days are over. Life is so much easier when mortals don't play with magic. Especially necromancy.
Without making too much noise, she managed to port herself up on top of the creature's dome. Step one was complete at least. In front of her, Thor suddenly crashed into the dome backwards, attempting to avoid one of the creature's claws.
"Thor!" shouted Darcy, drawing the God of Thunder's attention towards her.
Thor blinked up at her twice, apparently surprised to see her. "Lady Darcy, why are you riding atop this beast?"
"'Cause I've seen one before," replied Darcy. "And know how to take it down, but I need you to break this glass. The bastard who built it magic-proofed it as well."
For a moment, she thought Thor would refuse to assist her. The sound of the Hulk shouting out from down below though seemed to change his mind. Without a word, he slammed Mjolnir into the glass, sending a crack across the top. Which the creature retaliated against by slamming its claw into it's own dome a few inches from Thor. Watching the God of Thunder loose his balance and slide off the side of a domed magic-driven robot is a sight. One that would be funnier if the aforementioned claw wasn't rising back to make a second strike. Thankfully, the first hit managed to break a hole in the glass.
Darcy didn't waste any time slipping through the newly made hole in the dome, inadvertently courtesy of Thor, and dropping to the floor just as the second claw hit. Inside, the dome itself was filled with pipes and wires, even though the device was driven primarily by magic. Namely, by the giant freaking crystal in the middle of the room.
"Never saw Shelly build one that big," muttered Darcy as she carefully started to pace the edge of the room. The runes across the floor lit up as she passed and yet again Darcy cursed her tendency to not learn random runic languages. Seriously, where was Derek when she needed him? Sighing, she stopped in front of a symbol she did recognize as meaning the equivalent of 'start' and took a deep breath. "Well, here goes nothing."
And she promptly ran straight at the crystal.
Runes began to explode across the floor, attempting to halt her forward progress. Luckily, her time-freeze spell worked on the explosions, allowing her to stop the blasts before they could get to her. A few came up near her feet, which she had to port through, but otherwise she was alright. Until one caught her heel and sent her pitching forward towards the crystal. Luckily, she stopped just short of hitting it by grabbing a railing which circled the crystal. Unfortunately, her glasses went flying off her face and clattered away somewhere out of sight.
"Damnit!" cursed Darcy as she stumbled to her feet and uttered the spell she could use to improve her vision. It wasn't as good as a pair of glasses and no where near permanent but it worked in a jam. "Those were expensive too."
Shaking her head with a sigh, she looked up at the massive crystal. It wasn't smooth, not at all. In fact, it looked as if it had been pulled out of the stone without refinement. A good way to do things when working with magic. No one would probably believe her, mainly because it just didn't look pretty, but unprocessed materials were better for working magic. Especially necromagic, which was exactly how this monstrosity was operating.
"Okay Darce, you're in this thing," muttered Darcy contemplatively. "Now how do I destroy that crystal?"
In retrospect, she realized she hadn't really thought this one through. Destroying a magical artifact was often tricky and required some kind of specialized knowledge. Of course, she knew what she was looking at and knew what it would take to destroy the crystal. The hard part was finding a way to do that right now without the use of the massive volcano that her and Derek had previously utilized when faced with this problem. Which was probably good given said volcano had formerly erupted and destroyed a small island, thankfully uninhabited. It hadn't been their finest moment.
"So, no volcano's," muttered Darcy as she slowly paced around the crystal. "What then." She knew extreme heat would do the job, but wasn't sure where she could get it at this point. There was no way she had enough power to produce that sort of heat on her right now and the closest heat source she could think of was probably the Earth's core which, well, see former statement about volcano use in the past. "Okay, heat is out. No source. What else then? The physical form needs to be shattered to release the energy trapped inside. And it's a giant piece of crystal. All crystal's have a weak spot you can hit and they shatter..."
Slowly, Darcy walked around crystal, eyes tracing over its shape and looking for a weakness. Nothing was popping out though. How frustrating.
A sudden jolt sent the machine stumbling and Darcy crashing into the rail around the crystal. Luckily, the crystal was suspended by magic, so it didn't fall on her. Looking up, she noted that Thor had apparently crashed into the dome like an insect on a windshield. He blinked at her through his slightly smashed face. Huh. It was kinda funny in a way. She whipped out her phone and snapped a photo as Thor lay blinking against the glass before the claw threw him off to the side somewhere again and another large shift in the machine's balance knocked her sideways. Outside, something large hit the ground. Or hit the machine. Darcy wasn't really sure which.
Either way, it was bad.
Her eyes fell back on the crystal and it only took her a split second to make a decision. Placing both hands on the crystal, she closed her eyes and concentrated on the energy humming through the structure, following those paths to the center. When she could feel the pulse of the core echoing from the center of the crystal, she forcefully rerouted the energy coming off the crystal back to its center with some of her own in there for good measure. Don't try this at home kids, its not actually safe.
Though Darcy didn't have access to the same amount of energy to do magic with that she normally would, the quantity she could access was nothing to sneeze at. And more than enough to trigger an overload of the crystal. Devices like the crystal could only hold so much energy before the physical structure of the device became compromised. Lucky for New York.
Darcy allowed her hands to slip away from the crystal and dropped to her knees, panting. Doing this kind of magic took way too much effort as a human. She took quick stock of her energy levels, noting that she did still have some energy left, and looked up at the crystal. Which was now glowing like it was about to explode. Great.
"I really hope breaking the dome took away the magic-proofing," muttered Darcy before she closed her eyes and willed herself to teleport back to the ground. She managed to escape just as the crystal exploded.
She appeared on the ground less than a second later, still kneeling and panting like she'd run a marathon. Above her, the main body of the spider-bot exploded in a fantastic blast that send shrapnel flying every which way and produced a billowing column of smoke as the legs of the machine gave out and it began to topple over. Right towards her.
Darcy barely had time to mutter out a 'fuck' as she realized the device was falling towards her and she was too exhausted to move. Thankfully, Steve was nearby and feeling heroic that day (when was he not?). Being grabbed out of danger by Captain America was always fun, even if she did have a preference for being rescued by her own archer. Gods, she was becoming soft.
Steve didn't think about it as he wrapped himself around her as best he could to protect her from flying rubble. Thus, she didn't see the device crash to the ground. But she sure as hell heard it.
"Darcy, are you alright?" asked Steve in concern, prompting her to open eyes she hadn't realized she'd shut.
"I'll let you know when I know," replied Darcy uneasily. Why was everything spinning and why did breathing feel difficult? One of her hands slipped to rest on her abdomen and sent a massive shock of pain through her body. The kind that made the world go black at the edges. She could hear a voice shouting at her from near by, recognized it as Clint's on some level, and noted the apparent panic in his tone. That couldn't be good.
Steve was setting her down carefully now and everyone was gathering closer to her, but not too close. Being laid on the ground allowed Darcy a chance to look down her body. And realize there was a massive chunk of crystal sticking out of her side, now only visible because she was laying down. There was a lot of blood too. Huh, well that might explain the panic on Clint's face. And in his voice.
Her eyes rose from her body to find him staring at her with some cross between fear and despair. She just gave him a weak smile. "Well, this isn't how I was expecting today to go." Her breath was shaky as she drew another one in. Damn that hurt. It wasn't hard to figure out the crystal shard had probably fragmented when it hit her body either. "Damn Frankenstein." Another painful breath. "We so should have burned her place to the ground."
"Frankenstein?" asked Natasha with a cocked eyebrow.
The look Clint shot Natasha could have frozen over hell. His eyes quickly darted back to Darcy though as he dropped beside her. One of his hands grabbed hers tightly, eyes wild with fear. "Darce, you need to not talk. Please, don't talk. Just...just hang on, alright? We'll get you taken care of. Medical will be here quickly, just hang in there." His other hand shook as it slid to her side, seemingly unable to decide if it should apply pressure or not. Not like it mattered. Darcy was pretty sure she'd lost too much blood already to last
Darcy gave him the best smile she could and tugged gently so he was closer to her. It made her side flare with pain, but the action was worth it to have his body closer to hers. Damn, I don't remember death hurting this much.
"It'll be alright." Wow, breathing was becoming really hard. "Gimmie a week. Month tops. I'll be on my feet again by then." Another smile spread across her lips, offering him comfort even as she closed her eyes and let out her last breath.
Clint groaned as he awoke with a pounding head, dry mouth, and blurry vision. The same way he'd woken up pretty much every day for the last three weeks, courtesy of the numerous beers from the previous night. Well, unless they had been out on a mission. Not that S.H.I.E.L.D seemed particularly inclined to send him out right now. Even he knew he'd been a wreck since the spider-bots went rampaging through the city and killed Darcy in the process. His drinking had definitely increased exponentially.
Beside him on the night stand, he noted the glass of water and pain killers that hadn't been there the night before, or any other morning for that matter. Vaguely, he recalled someone coming into his room the previous night and muttering softly at him while helping him into bed. The only clear memory he had was the feel of smooth leather against his cheek and soft lips brushing across his forehead, a female voice commanding him to sleep. Must have been Natasha or Jane. Probably Natasha. The Russian assassin might be dangerous, but she did occasionally show him some compassion. Recently more so than ever before. Without a second though, he downed the water and pain killers.
Rolling out of bed, he managed to stumble to the bathroom without falling over. As he was washing his hands a moment later, he caught sight of his reflection and actually grimaced. At this point he had a full-blown beard going on like he hadn't had since special ops survival training and his eyes were blood-shot from lack of sleep or too much alcohol. Possibly both. There were bags under his eyes too. Every inch of his face looked beyond exhausted.
Bruises were blooming across his arms and chest where Natasha had caught him during sparring yesterday. He honestly should have been able to block more of her punches, given how much he'd been training recently. Training during the day and getting drunk at night. It wasn't really a good way to handle grief and he knew it, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to attend the S.H.I.E.L.D mandated grief-counseling that he'd been signed up for. Coulson had stopped trying to talk him into going about a week and a half ago, most likely courtesy of Natasha. He was pretty sure she'd talked Coulson into canceling the appointments until further notice.
"Damn it Barton, snap out of it," he muttered to himself. Like he had every morning for that past week. It didn't do anything to lift the pain in his chest though. Or alleviate the vice-like feeling around his ribs. A heavy sigh escaped his mouth as one of his hands slide down his face and scraped against his facial hair. "Least I can do is shave."
The shave helped a little, if only to make him feel less like a zombie when he finally exited his room and made his way towards the kitchen. He knew he'd most likely be the only person up at this hour. The mood over the whole team had been pretty somber in the last three weeks and most people weren't feeling particularly social at this point. Which really just meant the kitchen wasn't inhabited by stragglers much like it had once been. Nor was the living room, but that was largely because Darcy had been the one to mostly hang around that space.
A lump started to form in his throat at the thought of his deceased brunette girlfriend and it was almost enough to send him fleeing back to his room or the range. The only thing that kept him moving towards the kitchen was the need for coffee. And something with some degree of caloric value in his stomach not related to alcohol.
When Clint reached the hall that emptied into the kitchen, he paused for a moment. There was a light on in the room and he could hear someone moving around inside. Most mornings he was gone before anyone was even awake and he usually avoided spending time with anyone save Natasha, but that was mostly because she'd kick his ass for avoiding her if he wasn't careful. Again, he almost turned away, but the need for both caffeine and food over-rode his instinct to avoid people.
Stepping into the kitchen, he expected to see Tony or maybe Natasha wondering around. Possibly Steve if he'd had a bad night. So when his eyes fell on a short woman with wavy brownish black hair hanging halfway down her back who appeared to be humming a classic rock song and dancing a little as she fiddled with what was probably a cup of coffee, Clint couldn't suppress the choked sound of surprise. He'd know those hips and body anywhere, even from behind.
Said woman glanced at him over her shoulder, half turning and half bending backwards to see him completely. "Hey Clint." Darcy's blue eyes stared back at him from behind her usual black-rimmed glasses. She offered him a grin as she straightened again and pulled a second cup from the cupboard. "Coffee?"
Darcy couldn't help the surprised cry that left her throat as Clint jumped the island which separated them and pinned her against his body, one hand diving into her hair as he crushed their lips together. Of course, she wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to kiss him after not having seen him for nearly three weeks. Which is why when everyone else, plus Coulson minus Pepper, came crashing into the kitchen in search of the source of the shout, they were greeted by the sight of Clint practically pinning Darcy to the counter and holding onto her like he wasn't going to let her go ever again. Which he was seriously considering a viable plan
"Darcy?!" The near-unanimous cry drew both Darcy and Clint's attention to the crowd who had formed in the doorway.
Darcy waved in response and managed to maneuver herself so she could see everyone clearly. "Hey guys, whats up?"
"What- but- how?" sputtered Steve, eyes wide as saucers.
Tony shook his head as if he was trying to clear away an illusion. "You're dead. We buried you. Well, technically the graveyard people buried you, but we were there. And you were dead."
Jane just forced her way into the kitchen and pulled Darcy into a bone-breaking hug, which resulted in the other woman patting the older scientist on the head as she cried. "Darcy, you are never allowed to do that again."
Darcy shot Jane a confused look. "Uh, do what?"
"Die!" exclaimed Jane, pulling back just enough to look at her former intern. The scientist's brow furrowed as she took in the other girl. "Did you dye your hair?"
"Nope," replied Darcy. "It's the same color it was before."
Jane's brow furrowed further. "Then what's different?"
"Smaller boobs," explained Darcy, pointing to her chest. "By at least half a cup size. I now rock a slightly smaller rack than I did before. Better for beating the crap outta people."
Her explanation drew Clint's attention to her body. His brow furrowed as he actually took in her appearance, finally seeming to register something besides her presence. "Darce, what are you wearing?"
Darcy cocked an eyebrow at him and looked down at the clothing currently wrapped around her body. She was clad in a pair of leather pants and a shirt that laced in the front. Leather armor hugged her torso over the top of the shirt, covering her upper body but leaving her arms bare. "Oh, right. I completely forgot to change. Sorry about that." With a snap of her fingers, the leather was gone, replaced by jeans and a soft looking sweater. "Better?"
Jane had jumped back when Darcy's clothing changed, eyes going as wide as everyone else's save Thor's. Well, and Coulson's, but Darcy was pretty sure he already knew that spell. Seriously, the man could change clothes in under a second.
"I will assume my brother finally released you from your home?" questioned Thor with a cocked eyebrow, drawing Darcy's attention. He had been the only individual not saddened by Darcy's death, instead insisting she'd be back when she was ready to return.
Darcy sighed and nodded, a hand running through her hair. "Yeah. Who would have guessed he'd be so...fatherly."
Thor nodded knowingly. "Though he may not seem so, Loki is incredibly protective of those he values."
"Tell me about it," muttered Darcy darkly. "He almost didn't let me go last night. Took Mom reminding him that I've done this before for him to leave it be. Well, and a solid ass-kicking from Aunt Rohan."
Clint's mind was finally coming back online a little more as his shock faded with the realization that this whole thing wasn't a demented dream. One of his hands reached out to tug her back into his arms. "You're back to stay though, right?"
"Yeah," assured Darcy gently, one of her hands reaching up to slide through his hair. "I would have been back two weeks ago if Loki hadn't decided to take up acting like a father."
Thor chuckled heartily, nodding. "I had wondered what was taking you so long. Well then, I shall simply welcome you back Rowena."
Clint pulled away a little, brow furrowing. "Rowena?"
Darcy nodded with a soft sigh, sliding her hands down to rest on his shoulders. "Clint, I died. Er, well, my physical body died."
"Wait, then how are you standing in my kitchen?" asked Tony, eyes narrowing at her suspiciously. "Are you a ghost?"
Clint rolled his eyes and shot Tony a glare. "I can touch her Tony, she's not a ghost."
"No, I'm an immortal again," explained Darcy.
Steve scratched his head a little in confusion. "A what?"
"Immortal," repeated Coulson. "She referred to herself as an immortal. Is it safe to assume that you can't died again, if this is the case?"
"More or less," confirmed Darcy. "It's a bit more complicated than that though. Basically, I'm more like Loki or Thor now without the whole 'being a god' bit."
Clint looked a little dazed, but nodded none the less. "So, your magic..."
"Completely back," finished Darcy with a grin. "Which is awesome I might add. Check this out."
She snapped her fingers again and suddenly the group was standing in the middle of a foreign living room. It was mostly decorated with modern furniture in varying shades of green. Some abstract art hung on the walls, depicting sketchy or distorted images of trees and stone structures interspersed with photographs of ancient ruins from Western Europe. A few pieces of metal bent into the shape of Celtic and Norse knots hung on the walls with the photographs and paintings.
"What the fuck!" exclaimed Clint as he spun around the room.
Natasha looked just as freaked out, her eyes darting around like something was about to jump her as a knife appeared in her hand. Beside her, Coulson had drawn his service weapon and was keeping it low as his eyes scanned the room. Thor and Steve were standing back to back, eyes darting around wildly as they tried to figure out where they were. Tony was the only one not completely freaked out. Instead, he just stood there blinking rapidly as if he couldn't quite believe his eyes.
"Huh, cool trick," commented Tony mildly just as a guy in only a pair of boxers came stumbling into the room, rubbing his eyes.
"Damn it Ro, can't you give me some warning before you start teleporting people randomly into my apartment?" whined the guy just as everyone currently holding a weapon leveled said weapons on him. To his credit, he didn't flinch. "And put those things away. Gods know, they won't work on me anyway."
Darcy turned to look at everyone else and noted the weapons they'd pulled. "What the fuck guys, put your weapons away. It's only Derek."
Coulson cocked an eyebrow but re-holstered his gun none the less, one hand coming out to rest on Natasha's. The Russian assassin slid her weapon away as well in turn as the rest of the group relaxed. Well, as relaxed as a group of freaked out people who've just been teleported into an unfamiliar living room could be.
"'Ro'?" asked Natasha with a cocked eyebrow as her knife disappeared again.
Darcy shrugged. "Short for 'Rowena'. We usually try to call each other by whatever our proper name is for the body we're in. Makes it a little easier to keep track of who we are at the moment."
"Uh, wanna try that one again?" requested Clint uneasily.
Derek snorted and explained. "We've lived multiple human lives, but our immortal bodies are always safely tucked away in a barrow at home while we're down here in unfamiliar bodies. But being born as mortals means we're given new names that aren't Rowena and Lopt, so we try to use the name that goes with the body we're currently in to reduce the confusion for others and for ourselves."
"Right..." muttered Clint. He still looked confused, but it was more the look he got when he'd given up trying to understand something and decided to just go with it than the 'you need to explain that again' look. "So, why are we in your brother's living room?"
"I needed to let him know I got back," replied Darcy with a shrug.
"Uh, we have phones in the Tower you know," pointed out Tony with a cocked eyebrow.
Darcy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I know. But your security system won't let a dead person dial out."
"And you didn't check in with him before now because...?" questioned Coulson with his usual bland expression.
"He had company," supplied Darcy. "I ported in last night but there were sounds coming from his bedroom that I never wanted to hear from my brother. Ever."
Derek snorted. "Serves you right for popping in unannounced. Think of it as pay-back for that little telepathic exchange the first time you fucked your archer."
Clint felt himself actually blushing, something he'd thought had been beaten out of him in the army. Natasha shot him a smirk that said he wasn't going to live it down. "What exchange?"
Darcy rolled her eyes, leveling a glare at her brother who was glaring right back at her. "I might have sent a few images to Derek by accident the first time we fucked."
"Oh god," muttered Clint, one hand coming up to cover his eyes. "Do I want to know what images?"
"No," supplied both Derek and Darcy simultaneously.
Clint groaned again as Tony and Natasha exchanged a look that said he was definitely never living this down. Even Coulson had a touch of a smile on his face. Great, amused Coulson was as dangerous as Natasha or Tony in terms of how badly he could embarrass you.
Darcy plowed forward as if none of that had happened. "So, breakfast? Or has last night's fling not left yet?"
Derek shook his head. "He left last night. One night stand. Let me grab a shirt. Where were you thinking?"
"That diner place down the street with the amazing pancakes," replied Darcy as she moved to lean against the wall beside the open door to her brother's bedroom.
"The one with the hot waiter?" questioned Derek, voice perking up a little.
The grin that broke across Darcy's face was completely filthy. "That's the one."
"I'm in," confirmed Derek as he stepped back into the room, this time with a shirt on but still sans pants.
Darcy giggled a little. "I don't think you'll get any tail if you walk in only half dressed."
Derek glanced down and shrugged before ducking back into his room. "Plus it looks bad when a district attorney gets arrested for public indecency."
"That too," agreed Darcy. "Oh, who won the election for Attorney General? Sorry for missing that, by the way."
"It's fine, not your fault," assured Derek. "And Murdock won. But he named me his second-in-command so to speak, so I can't complain too much."
Darcy rolled her eyes. "I think we all saw that one coming. The man's blind and even he can see how you rock the courthouse."
"Uh, Darcy?" cut in Jane uneasily. Darcy's eyes shifted to where Jane was standing beside Thor. "Um, we can't really go out like we are. None of us are, well, dressed."
It was true. Natasha was in what looked like a guy's shirt and nothing else, Jane's nightgown was flimsy at best, and all of the guys save Tony and Clint were lacking in the shirt department. Which wasn't bad per say, but not something that they wouldn't potentially get in trouble for either. A quick head check confirmed for Darcy that Bruce was missing from the group too. Huh. She'd have to go back and get him apparently. Well, assuming he was Bruce and not the Hulk. Pepper too, if the woman was home.
"Right," muttered Darcy, mind still distracted by who was and wasn't present. "Sorry about that." Without a second though, she snapped her fingers again. As suddenly as the group had found themselves in her brother's apartment, they found themselves in their normal, everyday attire.
"That's awesome," commented Tony with a grin. "I need to build something that can do that."
Steve looked a little freaked out. "That isn't right."
Everyone else was nodding with Steve except Thor, who looked completely non-pulsed.
"It is not so strange of an occurrence," pointed out Thor mildly. "I often observed Loki using such a spell to transform his own cloths or those of individuals who had irritated him."
"We're humans Thor, most people can't snap their fingers and change you clothing for you," pointed out Clint, who was perhaps the least upset looking of the group. "Though Darce? A little warning next time."
Darcy smiled sheepishly, one hand coming up to rub the back of her neck. "Yeah, sorry. I forgot none of you would be familiar with that spell."
Steve shook his head slowly, looking confused. "You were human up until three weeks ago, how do you forget something like that?"
"'Cause we never forget our magic," supplied Derek as he emerged from his bedroom completely dressed. "It's a part of our very souls, so we can't forget about it. Plus, when we revert back, it takes about a week for us to wake up because all our memories are compiling into a single cohesive time line. Even after that though, we still have holes. It takes a while for our brains to catch up with everything that has happened."
Darcy nodded. "Hence my saying to give me at least a week to come back. I was counting on spending the first week asleep and possibly another week getting my head on straight. Figuratively of course."
"Wait, you were telling us how long it would take you to come back?" asked Clint, eyes widening a little.
"Uh, yeah," replied Darcy, brow furrowing. "You didn't get that bit?"
"I thought you meant that's how long it would take for you to get better!" exclaimed Clint unhappily.
"Oh," muttered Darcy. "No, I knew I was dead. I'd lost too much blood to live at that point. On a side note, I don't remember dieing hurting that much."
Derek snorted. "I'm pretty sure you've never died from impalement either."
"Point," agreed Darcy. "But no, I was giving you a time frame for when I'd come back."
Clint nodded slowly. "And everything suddenly makes more sense."
"Mhm," hummed Darcy as she wrapped her arm around his elbow. "Now, breakfast?"
"So, you can't die any more, right?" asked Tony, a fork full of pancake pointing at Darcy.
Darcy nodded, her mouth filled with her own pancakes which prevented her from talking.
"And you have all your magic back," stated Coulson, who was neatly working on a plate of eggs.
Again, Darcy nodded and swallowed her food. "Right. This is my actual body, the one I was born into 1200 years ago. I'm pretty sure I can't die in this one. At least, not from anything we're going to see here on Earth."
"Good," said Natasha with a smirk. "That means Clint can stop his binge drinking and get back to work."
Clint had the good sense to look more than a little abashed, his eyes averted from the group. Beside him, one of Darcy's hands came up to rest on his shoulder. He looked over at her, smiling faintly and covering her hand with his own.
"Yeah, he can," assured Darcy.
Clint allowed a small smirk to quirk the edge of his lips. "'Tasha just doesn't want to help me to bed again."
One of Natasha's eyebrows rose in concern. "I never helped move your lazy drunken ass anywhere."
"Uh, what?" asked Clint, head snapping in her direction as his brows furrowed in confusion. "Wait, if that wasn't you last night, then who was it?"
"Me," replied Darcy as she cut another piece of pancake. "I ported into your room last night to apologize for things taking so long and found you half-passed out in a chair. So, I moved you to your bed and left to check in with Derek."
Clint groaned and rubbed his eyes a little. "That makes a lot more sense in retrospect."
"Plus, Natasha was busy last night," added Darcy before taking her bite. She didn't elaborate, but the way that both Coulson and Natasha were looking at her with a 'how did you know that' look gave them away. Apparently, they didn't care much though. Darcy just smiled and swallowed her food. "Mom and Aunt Rohan have a spiritual sight that lets them recognize the individual markers that can be used to identify a soul. Derek and I do too."
"And it's not blocked by walls," added Derek before he took another sip of coffee.
"Good to know," muttered Bruce, who Darcy had ported back to the Tower to retrieve. "Can we get a full list of stuff you two can do? Just in case something, you know, strange happens?"
"Like someone deciding to play with necromagic courtesy of Shelly Frankenstein?" replied Darcy with a smirk. "I think we can arrange something. Derek can't do much right now though, fair warning. His magic is gonna be limited until he dies again." Derek nodded in confirmation, a tad wistfully. "As for me, that's a long ass list. Too long to really make up on the spot. I can try to get you something when we get back though."
Coulson nodded in approval. "That would be acceptable. We also need an explanation of who this 'Frankenstein' person you've mentioned multiple times is too."
"She's dead," assured Darcy before taking a bite.
Derek spoke up in her place. "Shelly Frankenstein was a necromancer who lived about three centuries ago and her work is the basis for the book 'Frankenstein'. We thought her research had been destroyed, but apparently someone found a copy."
"Well look into destroying it tomorrow," added Darcy. "That information is too dangerous for human hands."
"So does this mean you're going to work for S.H.I.E.L.D again?" asked Tony curiously just as Steve stood with a muttered 'I'll be right back' and headed for the restrooms. "We might be able to add you to the roster for the Avengers."
Thor nodded happily in agreement. "Indeed. You felled a great spider just prior to your death. Such actions are more than suitable proof of your skills as a warrior."
A voice cut in from behind them before anyone could respond to Thor's comment. "Maybe if she hadn't gotten stabbed escaping it would have been a great example of prowess, but the whole getting herself killed part kind of eliminates any validity to the kill."
Every head at the table swiveled to face the owner of the new voice, which had caused both Darcy and Derek to practically spring to their feet in excitement. Both spoke simultaneously as they stood. "Aunt Rohan! What are you doing here?"
"Seriously?" asked Tony in disbelief, his upper body turned to face the new woman. "She's your aunt?"
The woman they were all looking at definitely didn't look like she could be the twins aunt. She didn't look old enough to be anyone's aunt. Brown, wavy hair framed the young face that couldn't have been older than 15. Brown eyes examined everyone at the table, never requiring the girl's head to move. Her body was thin and she couldn't have been taller than 5'3". Her clothes were equally young looking, with a hole in one knee of her jeans and a tank top with a jacket thrown over top covering her upper body. There was no way this was the twin's aunt. And yet, both twins moved to embrace the shorter woman.
"What are you doing here Aunt Rohan?" repeated the twins, their voices melding to practically one as they spoke.
Rohan smiled and motioned for them to sit again. "I'm just passing through. Kith'ka sent me out here to check on someone who's worrying us a little on the magic spectrum, so I figured I'd drop in and check to make sure Rowena actually made it back while I was at it and that Derek was still alive."
"Explains the clothes," nodded Derek as he bit into his food as Rohan dropped into Steve's empty chair.
Thor was eying Rohan speculatively. "You do not appear as you once did, Warrior Rohan. Why have you changed so?"
Rohan cocked her eyebrow and motioned for a cup of coffee, which the waiter brought her promptly. "To blend in. It would be kinda conspicuous to walk around in a cloak with armor and a weapon at my side. Or yellow eyes. People tend to get a little freaked out about those."
"But why the high school look?" asked Derek around a bite of food. "You definitely don't normally look this young."
Rohan shrugged easily. "It's easier to sneak around. And don't look so surprised, you both know I can change my appearance any number of ways. It's part of the shape shifter thing."
"So, this isn't what you look like?" confirmed Tony with a raised eyebrow.
"Bingo genius," replied Rohan with a sideways glance at him. "Who are you anyway?"
Tony choked. He actually choked. Along with most of the table, save Darcy and Derek who didn't look the least bit surprised by her question. And Coulson who looked like he might want to hug their aunt, or at least shake her hand. Possibly both.
"That's Tony Stark," introduced Darcy.
Derek picked up for his sister. "He's a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist."
Rohan nodded slowly. "Any relation to Howard Stark?"
"His son," confirmed the twins.
The icy blue eyes slide over Tony slowly, apparently attempting to reconcile some piece of information or another. When she did speak, it was slowly. "I think I see it. Howard was such a brillant man though, it's hard to imagine this Tony being related to him. Then again, he didn't make any off-color jokes at me which could be badly misinterpreted, so that could be a part of it too."
"Did his father?" asked Darcy curiously.
Rohan snorted. "What do you think?"
Derek let a smirk slide over his face. "I think you got hit on by one Howard Stark and probably punched him."
The smirk the slid over Rohan's face said there was more to the matter than that. "I was a little occupied at the time to punch him, but suffice to say the man could be a chauvinistic pig when he wanted to be."
"Hey!" exclaimed Tony unhappily. "That's my father your talking about!"
"Yeah," confirmed Rohan. "And all that stopped when he met your mother. Or was redirected at her. Most likely it was the second." A strange furrow suddenly drew across Rohan's face and for a moment she closed her eyes in concentration. Then opened them suddenly and slanted her eyes to the corner of the room where the restrooms were before looking back at Darcy. "Rowena, this is going to sound odd, but do you know if there is a man here by the name of Steve Rogers?"
Derek and Darcy both blinked at their aunt for a moment before nodding. Darcy pointed back towards the restrooms. "Yeah, he went to the bathroom just before you arrived. Why?"
"Shit," muttered Rohan as she stood suddenly. "I have to get out of here. It's good to know you got back safe Rowena, I'll stop in to see you later."
Darcy blinked hard, then narrowed her eyes at her aunt suspiciously. "Aunt Rohan, what's wrong."
Rohan looked a little sheepish, eyes glued to the back of the restaurant. "You aren't the only one to have meddled in human affairs, Rowena. Or fooled around with mortals."
"This has to do with whatever you were doing during World War II doesn't it," accused Derek.
"Slightly," replied Rohan, who stiffened suddenly. "I'll see you two later." Then she was gone. Literally, she more or less just vanished in front of everyone.
While everyone else was gaping at the now empty air and Derek looked like he was trying to puzzle through a riddle, Darcy spun in her seat to look back at the bathrooms. Steve was blinking a little shakily he stared at the spot where Rohan had been just a minute ago. "Yo, Steve!"
He snapped out of his dazed state upon hearing his name and made his way back to the table. When he reached them, Steve was very white. As if he'd seen a ghost. Which Darcy was starting to think is exactly what he thought he saw. "Uh, did anyone else see a dark-haired woman standing here just a moment ago?"
"Yeah, our Aunt Rohan," replied Derek, picking up on the same tension his sister had. "She popped in to make sure Rowena got safely back here and she didn't need to kick Dad's ass again. Why?"
Steve shook his head slowly, as if he were trying to dispel cobwebs from his mind. "Er, well. Um, this is going to sound silly, but I could have sworn I saw Peggy standing right here just seconds ago. Then, she was just gone."
Darcy groaned and let her head drop against the table. Derek did the same thing simultaneously with his sister. It would have probably been amusing if they didn't look so deeply disturbed.
"Of course, Aunt Rohan would have had to break the heart of Captain America," grumbled Darcy.
Derek sighed and lifted his head a little. "We could be wrong you know. We've never really known what Aunt Rohan was doing during World War II. She could have been patrolling the Black Forest for all we know. Maybe it's just coincidence and she happens to look like this Peggy person?"
Steve shook his head slowly, still a bit dazed as he pulled a watch from his pocket and flipped it open before sliding it before the twins. "That's Peggy, if it helps."
Again, the twins dropped their heads to the table and groaned.
"That's Aunt Rohan," confirmed Derek with a sigh.
"Only Aunt Rohan could break the heart of a man who looks like a kicked puppy when hurt," groaned Darcy. "I swear she doesn't have a heart."
Steve looked decidedly uneasy as he started speaking again. "Actually, I was kinda the one who broke our date." The admission brought the eyes of everyone at the table to Steve. "I crashed a plane into the Arctic Ocean. I was supposed to go dancing with Peggy that night. It, well, it didn't happen."
Darcy screwed up her lips a little. "Well, that explains Aunt Rohan's sour mood recently."
"And by recently we mean for the past few decades," elaborated Derek. "She came back to the barrow lands after the war ended and wouldn't talk about what went down."
"She's a warrior at heart, a soldier by blood, so we knew she fought," added Darcy unhappily. "We just never knew how or for which side. Especially because women weren't allowed in the military and to our knowledge Aunt Rohan never pretended to be a boy."
Derek shrugged, apparently deciding to drop the subject. "Well, that explains that. So what's everyone's day looking like?"
Steve's mouth was hanging open and moved more than a little helplessly as he tried to formulate some response to Derek's rapid topic change. Everyone else looked like they were suffering from whiplash as well, save Darcy who just shrugged. Even Coulson appeared a little dazed.
"Figured I'd catch up with Clint if I could get him to take the day off," replied Darcy easily, one of her hands reaching under the table to grab Clint's.
The contact brought Clint back and he squeezed her hand gently in return, a soft smile sliding over his features. "I can do a day. What are you thinking? Walk in the park? Dinner and a movie?"
"Something a little more physical which we can't do in any public place without getting arrested," suggested Darcy with a rather dirty grin. "I know it's only been three weeks, but I missed you a hell of a lot." Derek made a mild gagging sound in his throat, which he turned into a cough when Darcy turned a glare on him.
The antics drew a small laugh from Bruce, who seemed to be recovering better from the entire crazy morning than everyone else was. "Things will never be boring with you two around, will they?"
"Nope," confirmed the twins as Derek waved the waitress down to ask for the check which Tony snatched before it even reached Derek.
Darcy smiled and shrugged cheerfully. "But look at it this way, you will never go a day without some form of crazy entertainment either."
So, yeah, the bit about Rohan being Peggy was completely unplanned. Until I realized I wrote it. Then it seemed like a good source of potential fun. Especially at the expense of Rohan, who I love as a character but am willing to admit I wrote to be a bit of a bitch no matter how much ass she kicks. Also, unless I get a lot of screams of 'NOOOOOOOO', I do want to do one more bit with that, just as a note on the end of a chapter for the hell of it. Don't know when the last two are going to be done, don't ask. Just know they are coming.