After the evening at the restaurant, Darcy's relationship with Barton stayed as strained as it ever was. The only difference was that everyone else kept throwing amused and knowing looks at the both of them, especially when they started arguing over something stupid like the relevancy of the new stop sign at the corner of the street. Darcy usually ignored them, a bit upset that she apparently hadn't been able to escape high school. Seriously, she lived in a classroom full of eleven year old girls who imagined things that weren't there.
Where was Jane when she needed her? Oh, right, at the other side of the country, star gazing. Why couldn't she have someone in her corner, to listen to her woes and give crappy but heartwarming advice?
Seriously. She and Barton just didn't get along. He didn't like her, for some reason she had yet to discover, but hell if she was going to let him walk all over her. Most of their interactions resulted in arguing and were usually stopped by either a warning look from Coulson to Darcy or a well aimed elbow into Barton's ribs courtesy of Natasha.
But what distressed Darcy the most was the even Bruce gave her the looks. That Phil and Natasha were imagining something that wasn't there was possible, and she always knew that secret agents were the worst gossips in the world. Phil dragged Pepper in his madness and Tony was a shark for everything that could annoy people. If it gave him a reason to act like the immature child he was, all the better.
But Bruce was always very careful, keeping himself away from any possible conflicts and being as respectful of the others as he could. And yet, he took part in this madness, sticking around to hear her and Barton bellow at each other. He didn't even want to hear Pepper scold Tony.
Darcy couldn't help but think maybe she was missing a piece to this puzzle. Not that anyone was helping her out. Look at her with this damned knowing look, sure. Telling her why they did though was just too much effort. Phil always arched an eyebrow at her and pretended to be absorbed by his work.
The only upside was that Barton seemed as annoyed by it as her, and spent most of his time not spent yelling at her giving the stink eye to Natasha.
Darcy was also glad that the spy wasn't promising her imminent death anymore. She was even happier that the red head was helping her get in shape. Darcy never felt so good in her life. When she wasn't hurting in parts of her body she wasn't even aware could hurt. But it felt good anyway, and she had a lot of fun learning self defense.
She was pretty happy. Coulson was able to do pretty much everything he wanted to do, and was getting ready for his official return. Fury came by twice to settle some things with his best agent, much to Tony's displeasure.
In fact, Darcy was pretty sure the director hadn't needed to come the second time, but did it only to see the billionaire hiss at him like an angry snake again and flee to his lab while ducking for cover.
Neither Bruce, Clint nor Pepper were very fond of the Director at the moment, but they had enough of a sense of self-preservation not to act upon that feeling. They politely ignored him and went along with their lives, taking just enough time to either laugh or shake their heads at Tony's antics.
Darcy was reading one morning, determined to enjoy the few quiet days remaining before she became the assistant of a newly not dead Super Agent. She was forbidden from put Agent Taves on toilet cleaning duty for causing her mental distress. She wasn't forbidden from doing the same to the Other Agent, for the simple reason she had no idea who the Hell he was, and it would be an enormous waste of time to go through the entirety of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s personal files to recognize him based on his picture.
Her boss seemed keen on forbidding any sources of potential entertainment. She was pretty sure she could convince Tony to bypass that, if simply to annoy the other agent.
The billionaire had started that again a few weeks back, when he was sure the agent wasn't going to faint, or anything in response to the irritation. Coulson seemed at the same time exasperated at the genius's efforts, and relieved their relationship had gone back to normal. Having a nice and considerate Tony seemed to freak Phil out more than anything else in their mad house.
She could hear Phil doing something in the kitchen, and whatever it was, it smelled good. This experience had revealed the agent could cook, which brought of the number of people admitted in the kitchen to a grand total of three.
Bruce and Tony were of course in the lab, and no one was to enter under pain of death via very painful explosions. There wasn't anyone in the place stupid enough to go against that order, but pretty much everyone was concerned whether it was a good thing for Bruce to be somewhere that could blow up at any time, if Tony's track record was to be trusted.
Pepper was out of the country and Barton was off exploring one air duct or another. He was maybe even watching her at the moment, but Darcy had learned not to let something so trivial bother her. Barton was a sniper, and from what Coulson told her, that always equaled a marked tendency to stalk others.
He usually loved watching people. And jumping on them when they least expected it.
That was annoying. He loved to do that to Darcy. And Pepper. Because they were the only ones in the place who didn't have any special freaky senses, a super computer to warn them, or the displeasing habit of turning mean and green when angry. Mostly, he targeted Darcy because she squeaked, flailed, and potentially threw harmless objects at him. Pepper always gave him an ear-splitting scream and tried to stab his feet with her heels.
Somehow, that convinced him not to do it anymore. That and Stark's death glare. No one messes with Stark's girlfriend except Stark himself. And Stark loved to mess with his girlfriend.
It was his favorite pastime, right after building potentially world threatening robots.
No one would ever pretend Tony Stark wasn't a complicated bastard.
Darcy took her iPod to switch songs, when she heard a loud crash upstairs. She jumped to her feet, and didn't turn when she heard Coulson draw his gun. No one was upstairs, as far as she was aware. In fact, the only one whose location she didn't know was Barton, and- There was Barton. The archer slid gracefully to the floor from the air vent in the ceiling, drawing his gun as well. Darcy stayed behind the both of them, silent and unmoving. They shared a brief look, and Coulson jerked his head forward, gesturing for Hawkeye to go first. Darcy saw the exact moment they went from Barton and Phil to Hawkeye and Agent Coulson. It was slightly disconcerting, even though she had already seen both of them in action.
Hawkeye disappeared up the stairs while Coulson stared at them without saying a word, tense and ready for whatever might come their way. Darcy tried to fight her guilt, knowing that if she wasn't there, Coulson would have gone with Barton, but also knowing that they all knew the risk of bringing a civilian in when she arrived.
Tony climbed up the stairs, appearing with only his Iron Man helmet and his gauntlet.
"Is everyone alright here?"
His voice rang out, distorted by the helmet's speaker. Coulson nodded, still focused on the stairs. Darcy was nearly afraid they would burst out in flames by the simple intensity of the look. He spoke through his teeth.
"Fine. Hawkeye went."
Tony's head snapped to the stairs, and Darcy could almost see his concern frown under the metal. Tony was lucky for his mask, otherwise his bastard reputation would be in danger. They heard a muffle curse, and Natasha came running from the hallway leading to the bedrooms. She was wearing worn out sweat pants and a black tank top. They all stared at her, as she paused to take her guns out and prowl toward the stairs. Tony was the one to voice the question they were all asking themselves.
"Were you sleeping? As in sleeping here?"
The Widow didn't even dignify the question with a look, and started climbing the stairs. Tony followed her.
"Seriously, how come you're sleeping here and I don't know? How long as that been going on? Are you living here? Because- Okay, okay, I'll shut up now."
Darcy shot a look at Coulson but that did nothing to reassure her. The agent was so closed up, she was pretty sure a nuclear bomb could explode two blocks away, and he wouldn't even twitch. Darcy focused on not panicking. After all, it was nothing more than a very loud sound. It could have been one of Tony's pet robots knocking something over, again.
There was no sound to be heard over head, no babble from Tony, nor bullet sounds from The Widow or Hawkeye, nor the sounds of a struggle. It was dead silent. Darcy could picture Bruce, standing still in the lab, hoping with all his being that whatever was upstairs wouldn't come and look for trouble. That he wouldn't have to let the Hulk out in the Tower a second time.
That he wouldn't have to smash down his friend's effort to give him a place to stay. Darcy knew that if that happened, it would take all of them to restrain him and keep him from leaving once again.
But that was a problem for another time. Now was the time to see if Darcy would have a reason to laugh about the bunch of them because they over reacted. Coulson waited. They breathed, and she realized she unconsciously synced her inhale and exhale to his. It was calming, in a way.
Suddenly, they heard another loud crash, and a bellowed curse. Coulson's shoulders tensed a fraction, but his hands stayed steady. They heard the whine of Iron Man's repuslor, and some other noises of destruction. Suddenly, another one crash, growing closer to them. The sound of a body falling down the stairs. Finally, Natasha appeared, having been thrown so hard she actually bounced on the last step and crashed into the wall.
She had to be thrown, no one could simply slip down the stairs and land that hard at that angle. Darcy took a step forward, but Coulson twitched to the side, stopping her. He shook his head a tiny bit, just enough for her to see.
She nodded, and backed out from the same step she just took. As if on cue, Natasha flipped herself upright. She had small cut on her forehead, but seemed otherwise fine. She slowly backed away from the stairs, pulling out another gun.
They all heard a mad cackle from over head, and loud steps in the stairs. Something, wearing green metallic armor appeared, carrying a struggling Hawkeye. When he saw them, he tossed the archer to the other side of the room. The thing cocked his head to one side. And to the other.
"Well. I don't know these two."
Coulson spoke, voice completely blank, steady and in control.
"Who are you and why did you come here?"
It chuckled, and went to approach them. The Widow pointed her gun straight between his eyes. He stopped, raising his hands into a 'I surrender gesture'. He even did the typical Vulcan gesture with his fingers.
"I come in peace."
His voice was distorted the same way Tony's was when he was wearing his armor. Neither Coulson and Natasha answered to his 'joke'. The Senior Agent asked again.
"Who are you, and why did you come here?"
The thing sighed dramatically.
"Fame is a fickle friend. You 'die' once, and no one recognizes you anymore. I am the Green Goblin."
He paused, waiting for applause. Darcy could practically hear JARVIS starting to look everywhere for all the information he could gather on the Green Goblin. Coulson didn't react, instead he pressed on.
"Why did you come here?"
The Goblin cackled, and started rocking on his heels.
"Ah, testy are we, sir? I'm here because all anyone seems to talk about at the moment is the Avengers. 'Avengers are formidable!' 'Avengers will save us all!' 'No one can defeat the Avengers!' I just came here to see whether the rumors were true. It would be so terrible for these poor people too loose their heroes now!"
Coulson seemed to be debating what he should do with the man. JARVIS chose this moment to pipe in.
"Sir, the Green Goblin was active a few years back, in New York. He disappeared after a creating quite a bit of mischief, and seemed to have been defeated by the vigilante called Spider-Man."
The armor did a weird little spasm, that Darcy chose to interpret as a shiver.
"That little punk. I'll go after him later. Now, I just need to get rid of you guys."
He looked back to Darcy and Coulson.
"But I would like to know who the both of you are…"
Darcy swallowed. She wasn't used to mad men targeting her. She was glad Coulson was there, because she was pretty sure she would be a sobbing mess by now without him. Neither of them were Avengers, and the guy seemed to have taken Tony down. Hawkeye was alive simply because he chose to let him live, and Natasha, the ninja that she was, couldn't tear down metallic armor. Darcy concentrated on breathing, letting the others deal with the situation. The best she could do was to make sure she wasn't in their way. Coulson spoke in a cold, matter of fact, clipped tone.
"I am Agent Coulson, Senior Agent from the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistic Division. I would ask you to stand down, and surrender to our agents."
The thing chuckled again, shaking its head.
"No can do, G-Man. I'm having too much fun."
Coulson's jaw tightened infinitesimally, in a way only someone who knew him could have noticed.
"Cayenne. Go to the lab."
She nodded, grateful he didn't used her real name, and slowly started walking toward the second entrance to the lab. She hadn't taken two steps back when the thing raised an arm, and shot something two inches away from her. Close enough that she felt the breeze of air when it went past her. She froze on the spot. The Widow fired as well, aiming for the same place as him, her bullet an inch away from his face. Hawkeye, who had managed to pull himself upright as well, growled like a feral animal. Coulson twitched a bit harder.
He was pissed. Darcy could see that much. The Goblin was talking again.
"Don't be rude, I haven't been introduced to the lovely lady yet."
The Widow talked this time.
"Don't make this harder than necessary. There is only one possible end to a fight here, and I assure you it wouldn't be in your favor. Stand down."
He threw his head back and laughed.
"You take for granted that you can affect me in any way, Black Widow. I almost crushed a spider, once. And he was far more lethal than you will ever be. Today, I will crush one for good."
He leapt forward. The spy fired immediately, but the bullets bounced off him like pebbles on a brick wall. He swatted her away with one arm, grabbing and crushing her gun with the other one. She crashed against the wall with a sickening noise. She tried to stand only to stumble down once more. Barton tried to follow suit, but his legs weren't cooperative, and he collapsed after two steps. Phil received a blow to the face, and was thrown away as well. Suddenly, Darcy went from three highly trained professional agents, to being alone with the thing that defeated them.
The thing chuckled, and grabbed her arm, pressing her flush against him. Darcy ignored the very displeasing sensation of being pressed to metal, and focused on breathing. A panic attack would be stupid. Really stupid. And totally useless.
"So, pretty thing. Who are you?"
She swallowed. Breathe, Darcy breathe.
"No one. I'm no one important."
He cocked his head.
"Really? And what is No One Important doing in Tony Stark's private floors?"
Oh shit. Breathe Darcy. Don't panic.
"I'm the cleaning lady. I come every few days to keep the place livable!"
She thought it was believable, but he obviously didn't buy it. He chuckled, shaking his head.
"Lying is such an ugly thing."
He tightened his grip around her arm. She howled. The pain shot through her body, and her knees buckled under her. The only thing keeping her upright was him. He released her after a few seconds, and Darcy could breathe again. And she kept herself from vomiting. She regained her footing, but refused to look up at him. He shook her lightly, trying to get her to listen to him.
"Who are you? Tony Stark would never hire someone to clean his things; he's far too paranoid for that. So why are you here?"
Darcy shook her head, refusing to answer. She wouldn't bow to that maniac. She would hold on until someone came to help her. Surely JARVIS had told someone what was going on. The thing continued talking, looking perfectly at ease.
"You must be someone's sweetheart, are you, pretty thing? To the old man? He seemed to like you, didn't he? I'd think he's a bit too old for you, but I heard gold digging is very popular amongst the young ladies…"
Darcy bristled at the implications. She would never do that, and she was always repulsed by the girls she knew whose sole purpose had been to marry a rich man. Call her naïve if you want- and many people did- but she still believed in love. The Goblin watched her closely.
"Not the Agent? The woman, then? She looks like she could appreciate a young, pretty toy like you. She must be a real beast in bed, is she not."
Darcy closed her eyes, trying to ignore the guy. He was trying to guess her ties to use her against the team. She wasn't going to give him that. She would be more sonic than Coulson. She was a tree. She was a rock.
He sadly wasn't done.
"No, not the woman. She would need something a bit stronger to give her a ride for her money. Mister Stark is already taken, and I don't think the doctor hiding downstairs would be very inclined toward such activities, which leaves us with the archer…"
Darcy's head snapped up against her will, and she hissed to the thing.
"What's your point?"
It cackled.
"It is the archer, isn't it sweetheart? Yes, the tough, scruffy look is always a winner. Poor little Hawk. He'll have to watch his girlfriend suffer."
The Goblin squeezed her upper arm once more, and the pain shot through her once more. Darcy tried muffle her screams, but she was pretty sure she failed miserably. When he finally let go, she saw Barton standing behind the Goblin's armored shoulder, helping himself with the back of the couch, his face blank. They shared a brief look. Darcy would have to distract the madman until Barton was ready to act.
"I'm not his girlfriend."
The Goblin shook its head, and Darcy could only imagine his smirk behind the mask. If it was human. Darcy wasn't sure yet.
"You can't lie to me, gorgeous. It's useless."
Darcy tried to wriggle herself out of its hold, but the grip on her arm was too strong and he tightened it a bit in retaliation. Darcy grunted, but managed to keep herself from screaming. She saw a flash of pain shoot through Barton's face.
She really hoped help was on the way, because she doubted her and the archer would be able to restrain the thing too long.
"I'm no one. I know nothing. Please let me go."
The Goblin cackled again.
"Oh no, pretty thing. You're going to die. Don't worry, I won't make your boyfriend suffer more than necessary. He'll be right behind you."
The Goblin took her arm, and threw her through the window next to her. The first thing Darcy registered was the air knocked out of her lungs by the impact. The second was Clint's distant furious scream. The third was that she was falling. The Goblin had managed to toss her with enough strength to shatter the glass, and she was getting nearer and nearer to the ground.
She closed her eyes, since she wasn't all that found to see her death coming at her. And suddenly she wasn't falling anymore. Something very hard and rigid had caught her, and she would have bruises tomorrow.
Technically, she would be a giant, walking bruise tomorrow.
But she opened her eyes to identify her savior, and came face to face with Iron Man's mask. Tony had apparently managed to slip in his armor, and was about to come in through the windows when she appeared.
She sighed, and relaxed a bit. The robotic voice didn't even startled her this time around.
"Are you alright?"
She nodded, and he lowered himself, carrying her bridal style.
"Yeah, I'm fine. You've got to help Hawkeye. He was alone with the Goblin."
Iron Man nodded, and shattered a window with one of his repulsors.
"I'm going, but you stay here, no matter what."
Darcy nodded, and Iron Man took off again. Darcy slumped on the wall, until she heard a mad cackle again. She tensed, and waited.
Suddenly, a roar pierced above all the other noises, and everyone shut up.
Apparently the Hulk decided to come out to play. Darcy doubted the Goblin had thought that far ahead. Surely he didn't think he had a chance again the Hulk. The thing defeated a god!
There were smashing noises again as the Hulk made its way to the floor the Goblin occupied. Darcy was panting.
Don't panic.
Panic is useless.
Panic would get her killed.
"Hey, are you alright?"
Darcy spun around, going for her Taser, remembering too late that Tony hated them and confiscated hers and Coulson's a while back.
Captain America was there, in costume, frowning at her.
"JARVIS told me you had been injured by the guy upstairs."
She nodded frantically.
"Yeah, don't worry, I'm fine."
He took a step toward her, but she shook her head.
"NO! No, I'm fine. Go help the others. They are in trouble. They need your help."
He hesitated again, and Darcy was starting to get annoyed.
"GO! I'm fine! Go help Bar-them."
The Captain pursed his lips once more but nodded in the end.
"Fine. But if you're hurt, I'm syncing Coulson and Barton on you."
She nodded once more, and he disappeared up the stairs. Poor guy, not used to taking the elevators yet. Though, in this situation, the elevators probably weren't the best option.
Darcy forced herself to take a deep breath.
And to ignore the noises coming from upstairs. It was pretty useless.
The Avengers would never be renowned for their discretion.
She could hear Hulk's grunts and growls. She could hear the sound of Tony's repulsors. She could even hear the clunk of Captain America's shield when it hit the armor of the Goblin.
But she couldn't hear anything that would indicate Barton, Coulson or the Widow were alive.
She tried not to let it get to her.
The living room, though far too big for a living room, was a pretty small place to hold a fight between two armored men, a super soldier and the Hulk. The three of them must simply have gone somewhere less cramped, as to not being in the other's way.
That must be it.
Darcy refused to think of the way Romanov had crashed against the wall, or the way Coulson had been swatted aside like a bothersome fly.
She refused to think that Hawkeye had been alone with the Goblin for a good thirty seconds before Tony got there to help him.
Darcy was more than happy to be in denial for the moment.
No point in freaking out before being faced with the facts.
Freaking out was a bad idea anyway.
Like panic attacks.
Panicking was useless.
She had to breathe.
She swiped her clammy hands on her pants, and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
After an eternity -or two minutes, she wasn't sure- she spoke up.
"JARVIS?"
There was a slight pause.
"Yes, Miss Lewis?"
She sighed in relief, and sank a little bit more against the wall.
"Hey, do you know everyone's condition?"
There was a pause again. In any other circumstance, Darcy would have been proud to have asked a question to the AI that took him more than a fraction of second to process.
Right now, it simply worried her. It meant that the answer wasn't obvious.
"Mister Stark is sound, though the suit is a little damaged. Dr. Banner is doing fine, but he doesn't seem to appreciate the Green Goblin attacking his home. Captain Rogers has a scrape on the arm, but is otherwise doing fine."
Darcy kept herself from snapping at him for not informing her about the three people she was the most worried about.
"Agent Romanov regained her balance a little while ago, and managed to get herself and agent Coulson out of the direct line of fire. Agent Coulson seems to be in pain due to his previous injuries, but doesn't appear to have been injured further."
She really couldn't help it this time.
"And Hawkeye?"
JARVIS paused again.
"Agent Barton has fallen into one of my blind spots, and doesn't appear to be moving. I am afraid I cannot tell you his physical status."
Darcy forced herself to breath, and nodded. Don't panic. Don't panic. JARVIS spoke again, in a reassuring tone. Darcy didn't even know computes could be reassuring.
"However, I can still see his thermo energetic signature."
Darcy forced herself to swallow, and talk through the lump in her throat.
"So?"
JARVIS didn't hesitate in his answer this time.
"So Agent Barton is still alive."
Darcy sighed little bit in relief.
"Why isn't he moving?"
"He may be unconscious. Gravely injured. Or he may simply not wish to draw attention to himself. I can assure you he is still alive."
She nodded and once again found she couldn't stop. She probably should get that checked, but it was the least of her worries at the moment.
"Thanks, JARVIS. You're the best."
"You are welcome, Miss Lewis. I assure you that Dr. Banner, Mister Stark and Captain Rogers seem to have the situation under control."
She continued nodding and carefully got to her feet. She started to pace, anxious about the whole ordeal.
Barton better not die today. She swore to herself if he survived, she would be the sweetest thing in the world to him.
Right after she hit him for scaring her like that.
Just because she didn't like the guy didn't mean she wanted him to suffer. And die.
She didn't like the guy. She really didn't.
She would have near panic attack for anyone. The Goblin was terrifying.
She didn't like Barton.
She didn't-
Oh God, she did. Fuck, why did she have this kind of an epiphany in the middle of a war zone? When the guy she just realized she liked is possibly dying?
She was so screwed either way.
She liked Barton.
Why was she always the imbecile, naïve, innocent one to stupidly like a guy that didn't like her back?
Why did she-
The ceiling exploded, and Darcy was thrown back hitting the wall roughly. The air was once more knocked out of her lungs, and she turned to rise on all fours, coughing through the thick dust cloud.
The dirt finally settled down, and Darcy saw the Goblin was already on his feet, looking around. She saw him two seconds before he saw her.
When he did, he froze.
"You! So they managed to save you. Well, this time, you won't be that lucky."
He went to run to her, but he was tackled by the Captain, who had jumped through the hole behind him.
They rolled on the floor, and exchanger rough blows. At this distance, the Goblin's weapons weren't much of an advantage, and the Captain's extraordinary strength seemed to balance the intruder's mechanical one. Darcy backed slowly away, staying low and doing her best to be forgotten.
The Hulk was over head, roaring, but the hole was too small and Darcy heard Natasha explaining that if he enlarged it, he risked hurting Darcy. Somehow, that seemed to be a good argument to him and he stayed up above, grumbling.
Tony appeared, lowering himself cautiously through the hole while eying the two men still on the floor, limbs tangled and moving. He couldn't risk attacking without potentially hurting the Captain.
So they waited. Darcy forced herself to breath.
Panicking would be useless. Panicking would get the others in trouble.
Suddenly, in a green metallic flash, the Goblin managed to kick to Captain America off him. The poor man was sent flying, square into Tony. The two Avengers were knocked down, touching the ground in a mess of metal and spandex, groaning loudly. The Goblin didn't waste his time, and targeted with his arm.
Time slowed.
Iron Man and the Captain did their best to free themselves to come help her. But they were working against each other more than with.
The Black Widow shouted something in Russian, trying to draw the Goblin's attention to her.
The Hulk bellowed, and proceeded to tear the floor apart anyway. No one stopped him. By the time he got to her, she would probably be dead anyway.
Darcy forced her eyes to stay open this time. She wanted the Goblin to see her looking at him.
She would be strong.
He didn't need to know she wasn't able to breathe anymore.
That her hands were so sweaty she could probably fill a pool with them.
That she was definitely having a panic attack now.
She didn't want to die. Not that it changed a lot to her current situation.
She looked him in the eyes of his mask.
"Hasta la vista, Baby."
Darcy sighed. And heard a faint sound, a brush of wind.
She saw the arrow stick to the Goblin's shoulder.
She saw the red light flashing on it.
She smiled.
She wouldn't go down alone.
The arrow exploded. The last thing she saw was the ceiling collapsing on top of her. The last thing she heard was someone howling her name.
"DARCY!"