Author's Note – this chapter was written in a slight experiment. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

W is for Wound

"Did they find him?"

"Tasha's gone to retrieve him."

"Good. She'll want him here."

She could hear voices. The concern reached her through the velvet blackness surrounding her. It seemed to be a thick blanket cocooning her, keeping away all of the stuff she could feel trying to press in on her. Little sensations were slipping through – like sounds. Besides the ongoing babble of voices, she heard a beeping sound. The beeps followed a regular rhythm, a familiar one, but she could not quite place it. She knew that sound. What was it?

"Did they catch the jackass?"

"Not yet…the police are warning us they probably won't be able to find him."

"What?"

Someone was unhappy. That voice vibrated with anger and concern. She started trying to move through the darkness. Where before it comforted her, now it felt cloying and restricting. Moving through it made her think of trying to swim through half melted marshmallows. Time seemed to move strangely in this odd dark morass. Voices changed and moved and it made it more difficult to keep straight. Finally though, as her mind began moving and stretching, she finally placed the beeping sound. It was a heart monitor.

Why was she hearing a heart monitor?

"What did the doctor say?"

"Physically she's fine. It's bumps and bruises mostly. She took a good knock to the head and that was the wound that worried them most."

"She'll be okay though, right?"

"It wasn't as bad as it looked. According to the doctors, her body's just letting itself heal and recover."

She could almost put names to the voices now. A little bit further and she might be able to recognize who was doing the talking. Smells were starting to impinge on her now. The too-clean smell of bleach barely masked by some kind of citrus assailed her. Adding that to the heartbeat monitor and the talk of a doctor…she had to be in a hospital.

Why was she in a hospital?

She couldn't remember.

There were other scents – all of them familiar. As each scent came to her it brought up a name. The distinctness of sharp peppermint came from her left – Jane – while the comfort of rosemary closed in on her right – Clint. She could pick up others. Sage (Steve), Vanilla (Betty), Green Tea (Bruce), and Spearmint (Thor) filtered through the area around her. The barest hints of pine (Tony), citrus (Pepper), and patchouli (Bucky) assured her they had been there recently.

Two scents were missing. Where was the cinnamon (Tasha) and particularly, where was the sandalwood? Where was Phil?

That question propelled her even further out of the blackness towards the slowly dawning light before her. Her mind managed to click and link the names and scents to the voices that had been moving around her since she came to in the thick darkness. Slowly her mind began cataloging the other sensations her mind picked up. She could feel the soft, cool sheets beneath her. They felt too fine for hospital sheets…even SHIELD hospital sheets. It must be one of Tony's private places. She would have to thank him later.

Not that he would accept it, but she would do it anyway.

"You know he's going to be seriously unhappy, right?" That was Jane. Who was going to be unhappy? And why?

"Unhappy? No, really?" Clint needed to cut down on the sarcasm…especially towards Jane. "He's been gone for less than forty eight hours and she's already in trouble."

"The Son of Coul will not accord any blame for such an unforeseeable accident." Thor did a good job at being reassuring.

So there had been an accident? Something was wrong and they were worried about Phil's reaction?

Now she definitely needed to wake up. It seemed like they needed her to run some interference. She couldn't figure out why it was so difficult to wake up. Granted, she usually needed a good strong mocha to jumpstart her day, but even without that it should not be this hard to wake up.

"Bucky called and he's picked them up. They're coming straight here." Steve's voice held equal parts of concern and reassurance. What was he concerned about and who was he reassuring? This would be so much easier if she knew what was going on.

It would be ridiculously easier if she could just wake up!

"The front desk says Nuada, Agent, and Nat just arrived." The pine scent spiked, telling her Tony was now here. She must have lost some time.

"They are on their way up." Yes, there was Pepper's voice and her clear citrus scent softened the sharp pine.

She could tell no one else had left – their voices and scents mingled, reminding her of movie nights in the private theater or game nights in the big family room. Only a thin layer of blackness seemed to stand between her and the others. It felt like some kind of steel and she grew tired as she pushed against it. She wanted to wake up. They needed her and she couldn't just surrender back to the darkness dragging at her feet.

"Every so often her face shifts expressions and I expect her to wake up." Betty sounded tired. Someone should get her to take a nap. When was the last time the woman had slept?

"She will." Bruce sounded confident. "She's just resting. Sometimes the body just needs a little extra time and space. We never give it and then when something like this happens? The body takes control and flips the switch until enough healing has occurred."

A strange sense of unease began to creep up on her. The little clues were adding up, even in her rattled and hazy mind. A door opened before she could finish forcing them to line up. A wave of new scents entered the room. The wave held an earthy blend of patchouli, cinnamon, and…there it was. There was the scent she had been waiting on.

It was sandalwood – Phil's signature scent among the family.

"Found him." Tasha's voice held cool satisfaction along with a thread of concern.

"The Council's a little unhappy." It didn't sound like Bucky actually cared – more like he was stating a point. "I pulled them both out of mandatory debriefing. Fury and Hill are running interference."

Mutters of discontent and indifference filled her ears, but she paid no attention. All of her focus centered on the growing scent of sandalwood. Someone took her hand and then she felt Phil's hand in her hair. His scent, his presence overwhelmed the other sensations. He was so close. If she could just get through that last layer of darkness…

She began to claw at the black wall, ignoring her exhaustion – she wanted to wake up, to see Phil.

"Wake up, sweetheart." There was his voice. "You have to wake up now." His murmurs filled her ears.

One breath, two breaths…anchoring herself to his scent and his voice, she made one final massive swing at the darkness separating them. She swung with all of her heart, mind, and soul.

It shattered, falling away like smoke-filled glass.

Darcy blinked, the light feeling strange to her eyes before she focused on the man in front of her. She ignored the sudden burst of excited sound to meet his worried gaze. "Hey," she managed to whisper, "you're late."

No one could miss the sheer relief in his eyes, but his lips curved only slightly. "Sorry about that…traffic." He brought her hand to his cheek and let his eyes close for a moment.

She looked around, noticing how everyone gathered close, and gave a tired smile. "I need a nap," she said and her smile grew as the entire group started laughing, chuckling, or smiling, whichever fit them best.

"Get some rest then," Phil told her. "Don't worry about anything. It's covered." He tilted his head towards they team. "They're covered. You can take that nap now."

"Okay, good," she replied in a scratchy, yawning voice. "Night."

Darcy drifted off to a healing sleep, feeling warm and protected in the circle of her family. She would deal with whatever the problem was after she woke up…whatever it was.