Darcy woke up with a groan. Everything hurt. It was even worse than her work out sessions with Natasha. Even her internal organs hurt, like someone ripped her open and sewed her back.
She hoped they sewed her back. She didn't care to walk around for the rest of her life with her intestines dangling from her belly.
She didn't realize she was talking out loud until someone spoke. She hadn't realized she wasn't alone either.
"Man, they put her on the good drugs. I want some of that as well!"
She heard a slap, and a groan. You shouldn't hit hawks. Hawks were nice. Hawks were beautiful. She liked hawks. And judging from the silence in the room, she was talking aloud again. She probably should be embarrassed, but she was more focused on opening her eyes at the moment. She didn't succeed. She was starting to get nervous now. She didn't like not being able to see what was around her. She was a visual person. She needed to see. She needed to know who else was there.
A calming hand landed on her upper arm carefully. She jumped a bit, not expecting it. She was blind! She needed some warning, people! Not the time for your ninja tricks!
"It's alright Darcy. Everything is fine."
She relaxed a bit. It was Coulson. Coulson was good. She trusted Coulson. She liked Coulson. She nodded, before willing her throat to work with her. And as much as her voice appeared willing to work when she didn't want to, it seemed to be less than cooperative when she needed it to.
"Eyes."
Coulson chuckled, and patted her arm reassuringly.
"Don't worry, the doctors said your sight would come back in time."
"I've heard that before."
"I don't know what you are going on about, Miss Lewis."
Darcy felt herself smirk, not entirely sure she gave her face the authorization to do so, but going with it nonetheless. At least her tongue wasn't hanging from her mouth. Well she didn't think it was. Was her tongue hanging from mouth?
"No, Darcy, your tongue is still in your mouth."
She nodded, reassured. Who was here? Barton. Barton was here. The Hawk was there. Did they have a nest for him? A hawk needs a nest, otherwise it's sad. A sad Hawk is sad. She was talking again. Damnit. Shut her up please.
There's got to be some duck tape somewhere in this place! She wanted duck tape.
"I can go get some!"
Another slap.
"No, you will not."
Natasha was there as well. Cool. She liked Natasha. Natasha hadn't been hurt too bad by the Goblin. She hated the Goblin. The Goblin had to go to arachnophobia therapy. He just hated spiders too much. And she was talking out loud again, wasn't she?
"Yeah, you are. Come on Tasha, let me get the duck tape!"
The slap was so hard it echoed through the room. Darcy winced in sympathy for the man. She simply hoped she switched spots soon, otherwise the poor man was in for a very nasty bruise in a few hours. And possibly a headache to boot.
"Ouch, woman! She wants someone to shut her up, I just want to help!"
The spy sighed, and Darcy could feel Coulson's silent laughter as it shook through her arm. She would have liked to see the archer's face, to see if it matched his haughty indignant tone.
"No really? Everyone knows you want to 'shut her up'. I just don't think you want to do it with duck tape."
Barton didn't answer and huffed. Darcy's brain, once again refusing to cooperate, couldn't decide what that meant. Darcy could hear the smirk into the spy's voice, even though she knew nothing of it showed on Natasha's face.
"Would you like me and Phil to leave the two of you alone? She likes hawks."
He answered in a gruff voice, clearly aggravate.
"Fuck off, Nat."
To Darcy's surprise, Natasha giggled. Darcy couldn't keep up anymore. She talked, turning toward the spot she thought Phil to occupy.
"Phil?"
She sounded as confused as she felt. The Agent's hand moved from her arm to her forehead, pressing reassuringly. Darcy sighed, and leaned toward the touch. She fell back to when she got sick as a child, with her father staying with her to read her stories.
"It's okay, Darcy. Go to sleep."
She nodded, and curled up to sleep. They continued talking, but it blended down to a reassuring background noise.
OOOOOOOO
The next time she woke up, she was in even more pain. She took that as a sign they were taking her off the drugs. That and the fact she could actually understand her own reasoning. It felt good to make sense in her own head. She had long ago given up making sense outside of her mind. That was a lost cause.
The second thing she realized was that she could open her eyes. So she did. She stared at the ceiling for a while, pondering whether turning her head would hurt or not. She probably would have to try to make sure. It wasn't a thrilling perspective.
"Hey there."
Someone was with her. She risked a look. It hurt, but not too much. Bruce was in her room, with a tablet. At the moment he was looking at her, apparently questioning if she was conscious or not.
"Hey Bruce."
He smiled at her, and rolled his chair to sit nearer to her bed until he was just beside her waist. He smiled reassuringly.
"Are you feeling alright?"
She nodded, moving all her body parts, testing them. As far as she could tell, her legs and belly hurt the most. But she wasn't paralyzed. Good news, good news. She looked at Bruce.
"Yeah. What happened?"
The doctor shrugged.
"Clint blew up part of the building to keep the Goblin from hurting you."
She nodded. Yeah, being in the way of a crumbling Stark Tower would probably hurt. She looked at Bruce to check on his own condition. The doctor seemed tired, but fine physically.
"How long have I been under?"
He cocked his head to the side, pondering her question.
"About five days. This is the second time you've been awake."
She frowned, wracking her brain for all it was worth.
"It is? Oh wait, I think I remember something about Phil…"
Bruce nodded, and deposited his pad on the bed, starting to examine her.
"Yeah, it was yesterday. Clint, Natasha and Phil were here. Don't worry about not remembering that. You're on some pretty heavy pain killers. It'll mess up with your head for a while."
She nodded again and was thankful that she wasn't doing it uncontrollably anymore. She wasn't really happy about having her head messed up, but she would live with it. She jerked her head toward herself.
"How bad is it, doc?"
Bruce smiled gently at her, leaning back in his chair.
"Nothing too bad or life threatening. None of your internal organs were affected. One of your legs was cracked, and a few of your ribs as well. You have quite a bit of superficial damage, cuts and burns mostly. Most of them won't leave a scar, or are situated on your belly."
She smiled at him, and moved her legs to decide which one was maimed, and settled for the right one.
"Everyone's all right?"
He smiled a bit wider.
"Yeah. Natasha got a pretty nasty bump on the head, but she's fine now. Coulson twisted his ankle, the doctors want him to take it easy for a few days. Tony's perfectly fine, except an injured pride. He isn't forgiving himself for the guy's intrusion. He has been driving JARVIS up the wall, going on and on about upgrades. I didn't know an AI could get exasperated. Steve's okay, it took him about half a day to heal. He took off again, but he wishes you well."
She frowned.
"He's gone already?"
Bruce shrugged, a small smirk playing on his lips paired with an arched an eyebrow.
"He's afraid that if he sticks around for too long, Tony will lock him up here."
Darcy sighed, chuckling through it.
"Is it a good or a bad sign I can actually see Tony doing that? My life is weird."
Bruce chuckled, and patted her arm, sympathetic.
"It is. But you love it."
Darcy giggled and tried to ignore the lump in her throat, when Bruce didn't mention Cl—Barton in his enumeration. He said he was there yesterday, he had to be doing fine.
"I do…What about Barton?"
Bruce gave her a knowing look she was getting seriously fed up on receiving. YES! She liked Barton! Could they just fucking leave her alone? It wasn't as if he reciprocated it! She clenched her jaw, and braced herself for the answer.
"He's fine, Darcy. He just feels bad about causing you harm."
Darcy's eyebrows jumped up to her forehead and she started the straighten herself. It pulled something that shouldn't be pulled and she fell back in her bed with a small cry. He leaned forward, frowning. She waved a dismissive hand at him, taking a few deep breathes.
She swallowed, and spoke carefully.
"It's not his fault. He saved me."
Bruce shrugged, dropping himself heavily in his chair once more, arching an eyebrow and assessing her level of pain.
"I know that. You know that. Everyone knows that. Except Clint. Guilt isn't something you can control."
Darcy shut her mouth, not sure how to handle that particular emotional minefield. She nodded, and looked away, biting her lip. From the corner of her eye she saw Bruce's inquiring look. She shook her head.
"I'm sorry, Bruce. I didn't mean to…"
He shook his head, and squeezed her arm slowly.
"It's fine, Darcy. Don't worry. You should go back to sleep."
She nodded and melted in the sheets, letting herself go. She didn't realized how hard she had been clinging to consciousness until she stopped doing so. She was lulled to sleep by Bruce's calm and serene breathing. She curled into the mattress, sighing.
OOOOOOOO
The third time she resurfaced, she kept her eyes shut and mentally inspected her physical state. Everything seemed to still be in place, if still hurting a little. Maybe a bit more. Why couldn't they keep her on pain killers? Seriously, she deserved that.
"You can stop pretending, I know you're awake."
She kept herself from jumping at the sound of Tony's voice. Of course the billionaire wouldn't care about something as plebeian as giving a girl a warning. Injured girl lying over there, buddy! He sighed, irritating at the lack of response on her part.
"JARVIS is monitoring you, Cayenne. I know you're awake."
She didn't answer, simply for the fact that it annoyed the billionaire. He stood, and she heard his loud steps in the room until he dropped himself on the bed. He wriggled around, until he apparently found a comfortable position. Then he talked, in the tone of someone who is stating a fundamental truth, a life changing fact.
"Sometimes I wake up at night, and I tell myself 'Fuck I'm so happy not to be a raisin'."
Darcy couldn't help it. Really. How else was she supposed to answer to this? Her eyes popped open, and she stared at Tony in disbelief.
"WHAT?"
He cackled at her, typing away on his phone, not looking at her. He still had a smug look on his face when he finally looked up.
"Hey, sleeping beauty is awake."
Darcy frowned at him, and crossed her arms under her bosom, rejoicing in the way his eyes jumped to them before he forced himself to look back up, sticking out his tongue at her. She chuckled, and looked around.
"How come you're here?"
Tony shrugged, going back to his phone, as if he didn't have a care in the world, and as if he was there purely of his own free will.
"Your usual bodyguards needed some sleep, shower and food, so I offered to watch over their precious princess."
Darcy arched an eyebrow at him, unimpressed.
"You offered?" she paused, before smirking, "What have you done?"
His innocent look didn't fool her, and she waited.
"Why are you saying that?"
"Because the only thing that would convince you to lock yourself in a room with a comatose girl, that isn't your girlfriend, is the fact that you are hiding from said girlfriend. What have you done?"
He shrugged, as if it wasn't a big deal.
"It was an accident, I swear! I was upgrading the security, and I just happened to make a mistake and lock the annoying tenant on the twentieth floor out of their suit."
Darcy took a moment of reflection.
"Aren't the twentieth's tenants Senator Stern and his wife."
Tony cackled evilly.
"Maybe…"
Darcy rolled her eyes, giggling at the ceiling. That man was simply absurd.
"How in the hell is Pepper putting up with you?"
Tony sobered.
"I don't know."
Darcy decided she didn't want to touch that one either. She wasn't in a mood for a round of Billionaire Psychoanalysis. She just remembered an off-handed comment Tony made.
"What do you mean by body-guards?"
He waved a lax hand like he didn't care, but she could see he was relieved at the change of subject.
"The super-agents. You're lucky I pay my doctors well, otherwise none of them who have stuck around when they are here. Scary bunch, these ones. Even more lately. Please get up soon so they stop traumatizing my staff."
Darcy rolled her eyes at him.
"Like you treat them any better. And Coulson and Natasha won't touch them. It would demonstrate they have emotions. Don't worry."
Tony finally looked up from his phone. His judgmental eyebrow made Darcy uneasy. Bruce was one thing, but Tony Stark, that was something else entirely. Finally, he sighed, dropping his phone on the bed and leaned forward.
"I wasn't talking about them. I'm talking about Barton."
She rolled her eyes, and suffocated the burgeoning of hope in her chest.
"What about him?"
Tony pursed his lips.
"He threatened the nurse with a toy bow yesterday when she insinuated the scars wouldn't help you get too many male friends."
Darcy breathed. Not that the nurse was wrong, but she tried her best not to think about it. Or about Barton defending her.
"He's simply feeling bad. Guilty."
Tony rolled his eyes.
"Cayenne, everyone is blaming themselves, you shouldn't have been in the line of fire. But Barton isn't doing it for it. He-"
She interrupted it, not wanting to hear about whatever the billionaire had to say.
"Please, Tony, can we not talk about this? Please."
The genius pinched his lips, but nodded and went back to his phone, ignoring her. She was grateful. It was bad enough that she liked Barton when he didn't like her, but everyone seemed to be aware and trying to help something that couldn't be helped because it didn't exist.
Because, honestly, Barton said it himself. She didn't belong in his world. She wasn't good enough for that. She wasn't qualified. He only felt bad. He didn't like her when she took care of Coulson, he certainly wouldn't want to go out with her. She was nothing.
She never lied to the Goblin. She was simply a bit ashamed that it was so obvious she was interested that it took an intruder all of three minutes to notice it.
She was pathetic. But she wouldn't shame herself any further by going after him. She may be naïve, but she prided herself on not being stupid.
Hopefully, when Coulson fully recovered, she would be able to find her own flat and would see less of him. Everything would be fine.
Really.
She didn't notice she fell asleep. She only remembered that at some point Tony started stroking her ankle soothingly. She was glad.
She fell asleep, thinking that she lived a life where Tony Stark tried to give her dating advices and lulled her to sleep.
And Bruce was right. She loved it.
OOOOOOOO
There was more than one person in the room this time. The sound of their quiet voices guided her back to awareness. She smiled when she recognized Barton and Phil.
"Hey."
They fell silent at once, and she felt a warm hand on her arm once more. She opened her eyes, to smile at Phil, which seemed to smooth down the worry lines on his forehead.
"Darcy."
She looked up and down, taking in the rumpled suit, the pale face and the dark circles under his eyes.
"Elrond, you look like shit."
Barton arched an eyebrow before Phil had the chance to answer her.
"Elrond?"
Darcy gave him small, happy smile, preparing to blame the niceness on the drugs if the need arose.
"Yeah, because elves don't die. And they are badass. And they always know everything."
Phil sighed, and patted her hair.
"I guess that makes you Arwen, than."
Darcy rolled her eyes, and gave him an unimpressed look.
"Please. I can't really compare myself to Liv Tyler."
A strange look flashed through Barton's face.
"Sure you can."
She laughed self-deprecatingly. And shook her head. And gave him a tight smile.
"Of course I can. It's simply better for my self-esteem not to."
She didn't look at him anymore, and turned to Phil, stabbing him in the shoulder because she was still wary of his chest.
"You need to sleep."
Phil grimaced, and cocked his head. She knew what he was going to say. And she didn't want to hear it.
"Shut up. You're going to sleep."
"Darcy, I want to be here."
"Yeah, I've heard that one before. From me. And you know what you've answered me? I won't run away Darcy, and I won't die if you leave me for a few hours."
Phil grimaced and looked away, sharing a look with Barton. Which of course drew Darcy's eyes to the archer. His face was blank, and he followed the exchange with polite interest. When he realized they were expecting his input in the matter, he looked a bit lost, before choking slightly and answering.
"I agree with Lewis, boss. You look like shit."
Phil glared at him, before muttering something that Darcy didn't catch, but caused Clint to scowl at the older agent. He stood up, mock-glaring at Darcy.
"Since I'm no longer wanted, I'll leave."
Darcy pinched her lips.
"Come on, boss. You know I love you! But I'll love you better when I won't be afraid you'll collapse beside my bed. I'm not really in any shape to get you up."
He scowled at her, but patted her head nonetheless as he exited. He did throw Barton one look over his shoulder.
"Upset her, and I'll make your next week hell."
When he closed the door behind him, leaving them alone together, Barton slouched in his chair.
"Well, I've heard that one before."
Darcy gave him an empathetic look. Phil's threats were far more impressive than hers. Much more likely to actually happen. Barton didn't seem to be too anxious, though. He seemed awkward, out of place. Darcy pinched her lips, looking around, hoping for a script written somewhere, something she could say to Barton without it triggering a shouting match.
"You know, if you want to go do something else, I'm sure I can survive on my own for a few hours."
His lips thinned, apparently not ecstatic about that option. She ignored the squeeze in her chest. He doesn't want to be here, Darcy. Natasha or Phil probably threatened him not to leave her alone. Nothing more. Don't kid yourself Lewis. He was gazing at her, apparently trying to understand her.
Darcy was glad she wasn't the only one completely lost in this situation. He spoke, his voice hoarse, like he yelled a lot in the past few days.
"I'm fine with being here."
She lowered her eyes, staring at her hands. Hands were safe. She didn't have a crush on her hands. Not that she didn't like them. But not like that. They weren't infuriating, snarky, over confident archers. So they didn't stand a chance at the moment.
"Okay."
He shifted a bit, and she resisted looking at him, seeing his expression. What was he thinking?
"If you're fine with it…"
She nodded a bit too eagerly, looking back up, in his eyes.
"No, it's great. Really. I just don't want to be a bother."
He nodded as well, opening his mouth, and closing it again. He did it three times before settling on keeping it closed and not saying anything. Darcy took the time to admire his mouth. And his eyes.
His eyes were magnificent. And she was forbidding herself to look at his arms. That way lead to madness. She felt like a eleven years old with her first crush. She was pathetic. Really. But this seemed as unattainable as when she pined for her physical education teacher back then.
It took a few minutes for him to talk again, looking over her.
"I do you feel?"
She bit her lower lip, and shrugged.
"Honestly? Horrible."
She chose not to lie, sure the man would notice it anyway. And there was no point. She wasn't ashamed of being hurt. He looked slightly distressed.
"Darcy, I'm sor-"
"Shut up!"
He looked surprised at her outburst, and he surprisingly listened to her.
"If it wasn't for you, I'd be dead by now." She ignored the way his jaw clenched. "You saved my life, you have no reason whatsoever to feel guilty, or apologize to me."
He shook his head, staring at his hands.
"I could have done it differently. I should have stopped him before he ever got down. Before he saw you. Or when he was farther from you."
"Barton. Look at me."
He raised his eyes automatically, looking like a young child looking for a life line.
"It's not your fault. The Goblin chose to attack. It's his fault, not yours."
The archer shook his head, but Darcy didn't give him the time to talk.
"If anything, it's less your fault than anybody else's. With the number of times you told me I shouldn't be here, well, it looks like you were right. I've got nothing to do here."
She wasn't saying in with self-pity. Simply stating facts. It was as simple as that.
"Don't."
She looked at him, confused.
"What?"
"Don't say that. It's not true."
Darcy was definitely out of the loop now.
"You've said it yourself."
He cried out.
"Yeah, well, I'm an idiot. I thought you knew that by now!"
Darcy tried to make some sense of the situation.
"Barton, what are you talking about?"
He opened his mouth, searching for words desperately and not finding them. He tried, and tried, and when he finally looked like he found them, someone knocked on the door. The archer jumped to his feet like a nervous animal.
Natasha popped her head in, giving the both of them a measuring look.
"Uh, Phil wanted me to make sure everything was fine."
Barton stayed there, mouth closed, jaw clenched. He looked alternately between Darcy and Natasha. The two women looked at him, waiting for his reaction.
After a few seconds, he growled and leapt for the door, pushing past Natasha. It was a good thing the spy stepped aside, because Darcy wasn't entirely convinced the archer wouldn't have tried to barrel his way through her.
Darcy stared after him, a lump in her throat. Was her company so unbearable that he fled at the first opening he got? She thought she had been nice today. Didn't try to get a rise out of him.
She looked at Natasha, whispering, not trusting herself to speak any louder.
"What did I do?"
Natasha shook her head, staring after her partner with an irritated twitch of her lips. After a few seconds, she went to curl herself at the end of Darcy's bed, gripping her ankle, just like she had done with Coulson a while back.
Darcy smiled at her, happy despite herself. Apparently the spy decided to treat her like Phil, and that warmed Darcy's heart.
Maybe she didn't managed to get Barton to like her, but the red head seemed to have adopted her.
Adopted her was a good term. She felt like her little sister, which she dragged everywhere and all that jazz.
And hit her some times. Often. All the time. Fighting lessons, she called it.
But Darcy loved it. She was pretty sure the only way to bond with the spy was through fighting. So she did.
She never found to way to bond with Barton.
Natasha pursed her lips and tightened her grip around the ankle.
"Barton's an idiot Darcy. He'll come around."
Darcy sighed.
"What if he doesn't? Everyone just looks at me with those fucking looks, like I'm missing something, and I know I'm an imbecile and I shouldn't even be interested in him, because I'm three universes away from his league. And I'll get through it, I swear, but please, leave it alone. You're not helping me ignoring it. I'll get over it"
Natasha pursed her lips.
"You don't have to ignore it. You don't have to get over it, Darcy."
She swallowed heavily.
"What, because he'll magically become interested? It's Barton we're talking about, Natasha. If he was interested, he would have asked!"
Natasha sighed, and leaned forward and drew Darcy into a tight hug. Darcy froze, and melted into it.
The spy released her after exactly 4.3 seconds. She looked squarely into Darcy's eyes, cupping her jaw.
"The doctors say you'll be fine in a week. In a week, you're going to get up, I'm going to help you get back into shape, and Phil and I are going to help you and Clint, because this is getting ridiculous."
Darcy went to reply, to protest, but Natasha tightened in fingers into her cheeks.
"Shut up, and go to sleep."
Natasha let her face go, and pushed her on the shoulder until she was lying again. Then she started messing with Darcy's feet.
Darcy was a sleepy pile of goo in about ten seconds.
She was sleeping goo in thirty more.