J is for Jeopardize

Darcy rubbed her eyes as she stumbled down the hallway. Nightmares, she hated nightmares. Her hands shook as she tried to press the button for the right floor. Finally she just gave up, slumping backwards until her back hit the elevator wall. She slid down, wrapped her arms around her shins, and buried her face in her knees. The tears that had pooled in her eyes slid silently down her cheeks.

She was so tired.

Betty's unexpected arrival lifted some of the boredom, but it couldn't help with the night terrors. Darcy just didn't know her well enough. It kept her busy all afternoon, for which she was grateful, but listening to Betty's story about her imbecile of a father had brought Darcy's own short incarceration into sharp focus.

Darcy's frame shook.

She couldn't figure out why the nightmares were still so strong. It wasn't like she'd been tortured or locked up for days. She'd only been there a couple of hours. She'd barely even been touched. Shouldn't she be over this by now?

The elevator stopped.

She heard the doors open.

A soft sigh reached her ears right before someone stepped into the car. She didn't look up; it felt childish, but the feeling ran through her that maybe if she didn't acknowledge them, they couldn't really see her. That notion flew out the window as the person settled next to her on the floor, not touching her, simply sitting with her, waiting. It was one of the guys, she could tell that much. The figure took up way too much space to be any of the women. The team was back then. They must have come in after she went to bed or JARVIS would have told her.

They sat there in the stillness. He didn't speak and she didn't move.

Darcy had no idea how long a time passed before he moved, as noiselessly as he had waited, to shift her into his lap. She curled into him. She didn't care which one he was; he was here, he was warm, and he wasn't asking her to talk. Her shaking grew stronger. His arms tightened. She allowed the tears to fall once more. He ran a hand down her hair.

Still neither of them spoke.

As Darcy began to calm, her mind finally began noticing details. Like the guy's size for one thing; he wasn't big enough to be Steve, let alone Thor. She could hear the strong and steady heartbeat under her ear, and there was no arc reactor. Well, she hadn't really thought it might be Tony anyway – it was almost psychologically impossible for him to be quiet this long. She was pretty sure it wasn't Bruce either. He would totally try and take care of her, but he still got too weird about close contact for any length of time. That narrowed it down to one of their snipers.

She didn't look up.

Whether it was Bucky or Clint, she didn't want to jeopardize the fragile sense of peace she'd found. The sheer safety she felt with his arms tight around her in this small space loosened something in her chest. It was like she could finally take a deep breath after so many days of nothing but shallow gasps of air. To look up, to speak might ruin it.

God, she had missed being held.

She felt him take a deep breath as his grip loosened and she tensed. He let the breath out in a long sigh that stirred her hair. His arms tightened once more and he rested his chin on the top of her head. He remained silent. She melted back against his chest, the tension flowing out of her. She could feel her heart rate slowing and her eyes grew heavy. She was warm; she was safe…maybe now she could sleep? Her mind began drifting even as the thought crossed her mind.

A soft, rough laugh was the last thing she heard as slumber overtook her.