Chapter 2 is up! Let me know what you think! Not much actually happens in this one, but I needed to get Clint and Darcy in position for Chapter Three. (Not that position, get your mind out of the gutter!)
There is a steady beep somewhere in the room that is honest-to-god the most annoying thing she's ever heard. It must be one of Jane's machines. Something with data or reports or something. "Jane! The machine is beeping," she says. Or at least she tries. It comes out as more of an "Unufh!"
"Darcy?" That's definitely Jane's voice, but it sounds higher and more worried that Darcy is used to. With effort, Darcy finally gets her eyelids to cooperate, and drags them open, shutting them almost immediately when the light overhead is blinding. Trying again, she gets her eyes to focus on Jane's concerned face, hovering over her. Why is Jane concerned? Why is Darcy so... floaty? Why is she thinking of herself in the third person?
Her mouth is dry, her body hurts, and she has that weird stiffness that comes from sleeping too long in one position. What the hell did she and Jane drink last night? It's finally the smell that alerts her to the hospitaly-ness of her location, and then, in a wave, it all crashes back over her. Every terrifying second of the whole ordeal, all the questions and the pain and the horror. And for a moment, it's all too much, the fear and the relief, and Darcy is sobbing into a scratchy hospital pillow while Jane makes panicked soothing sounds and shouts for a nurse.
Something gets injected into her IV line, and a forced, blanketing calm descends on her almost against her will. The tears dry on her cheeks, and her breathing returns to it's normal rhythm, but the beeping continues. She wants to tell someone to turn it off, but sleep steals away her words and she sinks down into blessed darkness.
It takes her three more days of horrible hospital life before she's really up and around. The cracked ribs and concussion are slow to heal, the bruises and cuts only minor irritants now. By day four, she's pissing off the nurses and making demands of the doctors. So eventually, she's released into Jane's care, who promptly makes one phone call and gets them a fancy car ride home.
Darcy is only marginally paying attention as she's bustled out of the car and into the private elevators in the lobby of Stark Tower. It's not until the elevators open on an unfamiliar floor that she realizes they didn't stop on floor fifty-three, the floor full of apartments for Stark Industries employees that live on site.
"Where are we, Jane?" she mumbles as she takes in the wide open floor plan, windows showcasing the views of the city from a massive kitchen and an even larger living area.
"We got moved up a few floors, Darce. Thor kinda threw a fit about your safety, and we're up on sixty-five now." Jane carefully watches her face as Darcy processes the information.
"We're on the Avenger's floor?" Darcy asks.
"Yeah, you've got your own room, since, I, uh..." Jane actually blushes.
"You get to share with Thor, huh?" Darcy is at once happy for her friend's new room and bed-mate but also terrified that she'll be sleeping on her own tonight.
"Yeah... But you're right next door, and I will totally still come over all the time. It's just safer up here and Thor was really upset, I think they all were."Jane helps her down a few steps into the well appointed living room. "Do you want to go right to your room, or stay here?"
"I'll stay here. Just want to sit for a bit." She hated to admit it, but leaving the hospital had taken all the strength she had left. She really wants to see her new digs, explore the kitchen, meet a few more Avengers, but she's pretty sure she wouldn't make it more than a few steps at this point without a rather embarrassing face-plant.
Jane pulls out the brightly colored blanket Darcy's mom had sent them when they were still in New Mexico. Jane had brought it to the hospital to brighten it up. Taking hold of the comforting familiarity of the blanket, Darcy shuffles over to the ridiculously large couch and slowly lowers her body into it, careful of her ribs.
"I'm gonna go drop my stuff off, then I'll get you something for dinner, okay Darce?"
Darcy waves a hand in response, pulling the blanket higher over her shoulders. It felt so good to be warm and clean. The thoughts of the tiny, cold cell seemed to hit her at the weirdest moments, leaving her shivering with imagined chills. She sits for a few moments, watching the clouds over the New York skyline before someone clears their throat off to one side.
Tony Stark walks in front of the couch, perching on the edge of the heavy coffee table in front of her. He seems actually nervous as he looks at the bruises and cuts slowly fading on her pale face.
"So, I've got some things to say that are actually heartfelt, and then I'm gonna say something asinine and sexist before I go. Just so you know how this works." His dark eyes hold hers and she nods slowly.
"It's my fault, Lewis, and I'm sorry. I didn't get the security up when I should have and I didn't put the security measures on you that I should have. Hell, you're just a kid and I should have known better."
He probably had more to say, but Darcy interrupts him. "I already thought all that, Stark. And really, it's Taylor Swift's fault more than yours."
He gives her a questioning look and a trademarked Stark eyebrow lift. "What did T. Swift ever do to you?"
"Wrote catchy songs that I had turned up all the way in my headphones so I couldn't hear myself singing off key," she shrugs, or at least tries to before her ribs remind her not to.
"Well, still. This is for you." He hands her a smallish white box with an embarrassed grin. "And you'll be staying up here with the rest of the nuthouse from now on." He slapped his thighs and stood up. "Touchy stuff over! Drink? No drink for you, you're on pain pills. I'll drink yours." He was up and at the bar near the wall before Darcy could respond.
She opened the box up to find a brand new StarkPhone nestled inside. Engraved on the matte titanium back cover was "Darcy L Lewis - BAMF". She grinned at it and turned it on.
Tony was watching her from the wet bar. "It has all the music that was on your crappy i-Pod, and I added a few more. Plus if you ever feel the need to drown out your singing with headphones, Jarvis can still talk to you through it. He's loaded into the phone."
She gave him a sweet, genuine smile that he returned with a head nod and a sad smile of his own. She might not blame him, but it seems he still does. As he walked out of the room he called out, "Plus Jarvis is now in full-on babysitting mode on you Lewis. Enjoy the no-privacy thing!"
Darcy played with her new phone for the rest of the night. He wasn't kidding about the new songs, there were over 1,000 albums on it! Jane came back and made fussy motions near her to get her to eat, which she did. Eventually, the day of not doing anything seemed to catch up with her and she fell asleep on the gigantic couch.
At some point in time that evening, she realized there were strange voices murmuring quietly around her, but as Jane's feet were still tucked under her leg and Jane's voice spoke in quite tones with them, she ignored them. Even later, someone carried her to her own room, strong arms holding her gently but securely, smelling like soap and spices. She nestled down into soft pillows and fuzzy blankets and slept on, untroubled.
The untroubled sleeping lasted exactly one night. She spent her first day home from the hospital in bed really. New Stark phone, Jarvis ready to turn on any movie she wanted, Jane bringing her food from the kitchen. It was like the best sick day ever. Jane had said not to worry about coming to work for a few days, and Darcy was more than happy to not set foot in the lab for a while. But all the resting and avoidance caught up with her sometime around 2am the next night.
Pain. Horrible, burning pain along her ribs as a big, meaty fist connected with her side. "I ask you again, Ms. Lewis. Tell me what you know!"
Darcy is gasping for air, her lungs refusing to inflate against the hurting ribs. Without breath, she can't answer, and the fist comes back down, breaking another rib. She felt that one break. The bone snapped with an audible crack, and the sudden stab of pain overrides her system and her lungs inflate with a gasp. The tears are falling down her cheeks and she can't even think of a lie to tell them. At this point, she wishes she knew more about Jane's research, because she would tell them all about it if the pain would just stop.
Darcy sits up with a ragged gasp, tears tracking down her cheeks, side burning as the healing breaks grind against her deep breaths. It's almost dark in her bedroom in the apartment inside Stark Tower but the ever-present glow of the city bleeds through the curtains and it's enough for her to crawl out of bed and stumble to the door. She's not even aware of what she's doing until she's standing in the hallway outside Jane and Thor's room, hand resting against the door.
She doesn't want to wake them though. Jane is already doing so much for her, she can't bear the thought of waking her up in the middle of the night for a nightmare. She feels like a burden right now. Just a stupid intern with nothing to offer, and a hell of a lot to lose. It's just a nightmare, walk it off, Lewis.
She's in the kitchen with a full kettle on the heat before the shaking starts. It starts in her hands, a slight tremor, one that she tries to shake off like the pins and needles of a sleeping limb. But then it's her whole body shaking. She can feel the tremors in her stomach, radiating out to her whole body. Her breathing is ragged and she feels like she's going to shake apart from the inside out. Everything is dimming and going dark and she can't seem to get a breath in, the shaking is so bad. It's cold and damp and she hurts so very, very much.
Suddenly, there are warm hands on her shoulders, turning her around and drawing her into a solid, welcoming chest. Strong arms wrap around her body, holding her up. A deep, gentle voice speaks soothingly into her ear, "Breathe. Just breathe. You're safe now." The comforting words continue as the warm arms rub up and down her trembling body. Darcy focuses on the rise and fall of the solid chest against her cheek, trying to match her own breathing to his. Slowly, the cold and dampness in her mind recedes and the trembling fades and she's back to herself.
Reluctantly, she pulls back from her savior, tilting her head back to look into a familiar, handsome face.
"Hey there, princess." Agent Barton says softly, strong hands running up and down her arms one more time before he takes a small step back and releases her.
"Hey," Darcy responds softly. Her brain takes a moment to catch up. "Why are you...? Do you...?" He just cocks an eyebrow at her as the pieces fall into place. Barton, arrows, rescue mission. Hawkeye, arrows, lots of rescue missions. "Right. Hawkeye, Avengers, gotcha."
"Knew you'd sort that one out eventually," he said. "Cup of tea?"
She blinks for a moment, realizing the kettle is just about to boil and then he's pouring water into two mugs and fixing her a cup of tea just the way she likes it and she's just standing there like an idiot. He presses one of the mugs into her cold hands and with a gentle hand on the small of her back, guides her to the soft couch of the living room.
She's braced for him to ask about it, to draw her out and make her talk... But he never does. Neither of them speak for the rest of the night. They drink their tea and he turns on a movie and the last thing Darcy remembers is a warm blanket being pulled up over her. And if she's got the beginnings of a little crush on her rebel-hero-rescuer, well, no one ever needs to know.