It was nearly dinner when Darcy finally stumbled downstairs, wrapped in the blanket from her father's bed and looking more than a little bleary-eyed. Everyone paused as she entered the kitchen, heading straight for the coffee maker. "Please tell me there's coffee left."
Clint passed her a mug before she even reached the machine. "Just made more. You get the first cup."
He wasn't about to tell her that he'd made the coffee in anticipation of waking her up. His plan had been to use the coffee as an offering. He didn't relish the idea of waking her, mostly because her sleep schedule looked like his own half the time (meaning she got no where near enough sleep). However, she needed to eat too.
Taking the cup and shooting him a grateful look, Darcy nearly downed half the cup in one gulp. It was actually kind of impressive given how hot that coffee must have been. "Thanks, Clint."
"No problem," assured Clint before he refocused on the pot in front of him. Apparently, for some reason, he was the only person present who could actually cook.
Well, that wasn't strictly true. Pepper could cook, but not without a recipe. Tony wasn't allowed to use anything in any kitchen, anywhere, because it apparently typically resulted in explosions. Hence his tendency to drink green shakes and steal everyone else's food. Steve knew how to cook basic stuff, but he couldn't do much more than that. The time period he'd been born into didn't encourage men to learn how to cook much beyond boiling water. Bruce for some reason only knew how to make ramen and Jane was the same except her list included poptarts and stick-in-the-oven cookies. Natasha could cook, so long as it was Russian. Otherwise, good luck. He'd tried to teach her to make pasta years ago and had nearly lost his tongue for his efforts. How any of his teammates were still alive, Clint wasn't sure.
Regardless, the result is that he's the one cooking dinner.
Darcy eyed the pot curiously, tilting her head slightly as she leaned on the counter beside the stove. "You know how to cook?"
"Apparently, I'm the only one here who can without stipulations," replied Clint, shrugging slightly as he checked the pasta, then turned off the stove. "Except maybe you."
"Dad taught me," stated Darcy, her eyes sliding around the kitchen sadly. "Said he wouldn't let any child of his go through life without learning to cook."
For a moment, the kitchen descended into silence. Though Clint couldn't speak for the thoughts of everyone else, all he could image was Phil standing in the kitchen right where he was showing Darcy how to boil water or make soup. Maybe even bake. It was a weird feeling, on that made Clint feel almost like he was intruding into a sacred space.
"So, Darcy," broke in Pepper casually as she mixed her coffee. It was clearly a carefully timed change of subject meant to leave everyone more at ease. Clint was grateful. "What's this other offer I've heard rumors about you receiving from S.H.I.E.L.D.?"
Darcy stiffened a little and shot a look at Clint. "Where did you hear that?"
"Tony," supplied Pepper. "He over-heard you say something to someone in the grocery store- Mary I think?"
Groaning, Darcy dropped her forehead into her hand. "Oh god, I didn't even think about it before I spoke."
"Relax," assured Pepper. "I'm just wondering what they're offering you. If you take their offer over mine, I'll understand, but I'd still like to know what they're offering."
Dropping her hand to rest on the counter, Darcy fidgeted a little with her coffee cup. "They offered me Da- Phil's job. Fury even offered to help me pay for law school and assured me I could leave once I'd completed my education if I still wanted to. He also implied there might be some use for a lawyer in S.H.I.E.L.D., especially a criminal one familiar with international law."
"So wait, you'd be our handler?" asked Clint in surprise. He hadn't thought Darcy had the training to do that."
"Hill would assist for the first few missions and be on-call if I needed her until I was completely comfortable with everything. Sitwell would be working with me, too. Fury said he's a lot like Da- a lot like Phil."
"You can call him 'Dad' if you want to, Darcy," cut in Natasha smoothly. "No one here will judge you for it. He raised you, that makes him your father."
"Speak for yourself," muttered Tony. "I'm still disturbed that Agent even adopted a child."
Pepper glared sharply at Tony, her eyes narrowing in a very threatening way. "Tony! Enough!"
Tony cringed and nearly curled into a ball at Pepper's sharp tone. Everyone did in sympathy. Yeah, Tony's remarks were uncalled for but Pepper was a very scary woman.
Darcy shook her head, sipping her coffee. "Hey, so, it's not quite cold yet. Anyone wanna eat outside? You can see the stars out here and we can light the fire pit. That way it's more like camping and you guys can do the bonding crap. Tell ghost stories or whatever it is people do to bond."
"I don't think most people bond over ghost stories," remarked Bruce uncertainly.
"Fine, most embarrassing story of drunken moronicy," corrected Darcy with an eye roll.
Clint chuckled. "Tony's got us beat there."
"Probably," agreed Tony with a grin.
"Definitely," confirmed Pepper with a sigh. "I recall a birthday party where you used the bathroom in your suit with everyone watching."
Darcy laughed softly, shaking his head. "Wait, that story was real? Dad told me about that, but I thought he was making it up!"
"No, he really did that," confirmed Pepper with a smile. "Phil thought I was joking when I told him that."
"He seemed like he couldn't quite believe it when he told me," admitted Darcy, eyes dropping to the counter and tearing up a little.
Clint flipped off the stove as the pasta finished. "Hey Darcy, do you have a colander?"
"Yeah," confirmed Darcy, snapping quickly out of it and heading to a cabinet. She dug around for a moment before pulling a metal colander from the cabinet and offering it to Clint. "Here. The stuff is clean too, by the way. I was here the other day and threw everything in the wash in anticipation of coming back."
"Good to know," stated Clint with a grin. "I wasn't worried though." Taking the colander, he quickly drained the pasta and pulled out plates. "Alright, everyone grab a plate. We eating outside?"
"It sounds like a good idea," commented Steve, even as he started pulling out glasses from the cabinet. "I can go start the fire."
"Nah, I got that," assured Darcy quickly. "You guys grab food, I'll get everything going outside."
She was already out of the house before Clint could speak up or object. He watched her leave silently, listening to the click of plates as everyone else helped themselves to food. Jane took the liberty of making a plate for Darcy and carried both towards the back door. Outside, he could hear Darcy moving around what sounded like large wood logs.
"What's everyone want to drink?" asked Tony from where he was half inside the fridge. "We've got beer, which I think I might be going for, juice, water, blah, blah, blah."
"Beer," stated Jane as she picked up both plates. "I'm going to help Darcy."
"Beer for me and Darcy too," stated Clint, holding out his hand for the two bottles that Tony offered. He grabbed both by the neck in one hand and his own plate in the other before maneuvering outside. He just caught something that sounded like Steve asking Tony to make him something that would pack a punch, but didn't hear beyond that. If Steve was drinking, things had to be pretty bad.
Outside, the fire pit was burning in full force and Darcy had managed to make some addition camping chairs appear from nowhere. She, however, was tucked away on a ledge in the rock, legs dangling over as she balanced her plate. Clint didn't say a word as he passed up a beer and fork he'd snagged in the kitchen before setting himself up on another ledge not far from her own seat. What could he say? He felt safer up high.
Across from him, Darcy chuckled a little. "Dad always said we'd get along. Something about birds of a feather and high places."
Clint nodded, smirking slightly. "I'm gonna guess the nest of pillows is yours?"
"Yeah," confirmed Darcy. "But I wouldn't try sleeping up there right now. Dad-" Her voice caught a little as the words stuck in her throat suddenly. "Dad was supposed to bring them in after my last visit."
He didn't need to ask when that was. It was pretty obvious from Darcy's reaction her father's last visit had been around the time he'd died. "We can wash them I'm sure. If not, well, that's what hoses are for."
"Yeah," agreed Darcy, her voice evening out as the others finally stumbled from inside.
Jane was already sitting in one of the chairs, gazing up at the stars intently. The others dropped into the various, empty seats, though Natasha climbed onto the rock with Darcy and Clint. She stayed lower than either of them, but still chose to sit there rather than closer to the fire. Clint could understand it. There was something about hanging back in the shadows that made Natasha feel safer. The same applied to him and he was willing to bet Darcy felt that way as well. It was one thing to sit in a circle of light like that when you were with a small group you trusted well in a familiar place; it was another to do it with a group of people who probably didn't completely trust you in a strange backyard in a strange city. It wasn't like it was cold, either.
"So are we gonna tell tales of drunken debauchery or what?" asked Tony as he settled into a chair between Pepper and Steve. "Bird-brain, Spider-woman. Get down here."
"I'm good here," stated Clint firmly, shaking his head and offering Tony the best grin he could. Natasha just glared at Tony in a way that warned him to drop the issue.
Tony grumbled about something or another before taking a swig of his drink and leaning back in his chair. "Fine, don't join the group. But someone else has to start, because I've got too many to choose from and I want think before I speak."
"Clint, I think you're cooking can preform miracles," joked Pepper in mock awe. "Tony Stark actually wants to think before he speaks."
Grinning, Tony leaned forward. "Hey, I could always talk about Rome."
"Don't talk about Rome," stated Pepper, narrowing her eyes. "If you talk about Rome, I'm making you sleep with Steve tonight."
"I don't think that's really fair to Steve," pointed out Bruce, even though he was smiling too. "Though Steve could just sleep on top of him."
"Nah, Tony'd like that too much," joked Darcy, chuckling.
Tony opened his mouth to say something, then snapped it quickly shut and chose to pout instead.
"He's speechless," stated Natasha. "It is a miracle."
A look of irritation crossed Tony's face, but then his eyes darted back to Darcy for a moment before he leaned back in his seat with a shrug. "Yep, I'm speechless. Completely have nothing to say."
Clint shot Tony a grateful look. He could guess the remark Tony had stopped himself from making (something along the lines of "Agent would have liked it more") and felt relieved the genius had thought through that comment before making it. Then again, Tony had his own slew of daddy issues. Couple that with the fact that the reality of Phil being Darcy's father might be finally settling in and it could explain the genius' sudden empathy. Or it was fear that Pepper really would make him sleep with Steve that night. Clint really didn't care as long as Darcy didn't end up in tears.
"This is beautiful, Darcy," remarked Jane, her eyes locked on the stars. "You can see the stars so well out here..."
"Yeah," confirmed Darcy quietly, poking at her food. "I used to camp out here in high school sometimes. There was this meteor shower once..." her voice trailed off a bit as she spoke, a sad smile spreading over her lips, "it was the most amazing thing I'd ever seen."
"Do you remember when it was?" asked Jane curiously, tearing her eyes away from the stars to look at Darcy. "I might have seen it, too. I try to watch every one that I can."
Darcy nodded slowly, smiling a bit. "It was right before I went to college." She paused for a moment, reluctance in her voice before she slowly continued. "I couldn't sleep that night, so Dad and I were both up and he figured we might as well be outside if we were going to be awake. So, he grabbed the remaining stuff for s'mores and we came outside to roast marshmallows and just chill. At some point, I saw something flash in the sky and looked up. Dad did too, more out of concern than anything probably, but another meteor streaked by just after the first. Then more and more began to fall. We ended up sitting outside watching the shower until 3 am." Clint could faintly make out the glint of tears in Darcy's eyes as she finished her story. He could just imagine Phil convincing his teenage daughter to come outside for s'mores because she couldn't sleep. Chances were good too that Phil had known about the meteor shower.
"I think I remember that one," murmured Jane softly. "It was about five years ago, right?"
"Yeah," confirmed Darcy, wiping a hand under her eyes. "Something like that." She fell silent then, poking at her food.
"That was a beautiful shower," agreed Jane just before she started off on one of her astrophysicist rants about meteors or something. Clint couldn't exactly understand her.
Ignoring the group for a moment as they listened to her rant, with Tony and Bruce breaking in on occasion, Clint turned instead to Darcy, nudging her leg slightly with his foot. When she looked at him, he dropped his voice and leaned slightly over to her. "You're supposed to actually put the food in your mouth, not mash it up on the plate."
She glanced at him for a moment, giving him a semi-dirty look before she stuck a bite in her mouth. Her eyes lit up a little in surprise as she did, glancing down at her plate before looking back at him with a raised eyebrow. Swallowing, she questioned him in disbelief. "You made this?"
"Yeah," confirmed Clint, shooting his own raised eyebrow back. "Why?"
"'Cause Dad always made it sound like you'd burn the house down if you tried to cook," explained Darcy, shaking her head slightly. A bit of a teary laugh escaped her throat. "God, he'd be so surprised to find out he was wrong..." Her voice trailed off near the end, her disbelief turning to sadness again in a sudden turn around that made Clint's head spin.
Without thinking about it, he slipped closer to her ledge and reached out to take her hand. It was automatic and he didn't think about the fact that she hated touching people. She jumped at his touch, apparently not watching for it, and dumped her food on the ground, nearly tumbling off the ledge after it. Without a thought, Clint reached out to stabilize her, only for his hands to meet empty air. Quick reflexes on her part let her keep from falling, but he wasn't so lucky. He tumbled off the ledge, loosing his balance when he over calculated, and landed in both their spilled food.
Blinking, he took a moment to bemoan the plates that were probably broken under him before sitting up. He glanced up at her as soon as he was upright and wished he hadn't. She was curled on the edge of her ledge, as far from where he'd been sitting as she could get, and looking like she thought she was about to be hit.
Wide eyes met his, still teary from a moment before, but the mix of shock and haunting fear is unmistakable. Mentally, Clint kicked himself for forgetting that Darcy didn't like to be touched; for allowing himself to make such a mistake and not being obvious about it. For not making sure she could see his hand. He'd been through the same thing as Darcy: he knows better than to touch someone who's undergone any abuse without warning when they're relaxed. The hyper-awareness can be temporarily assuaged if they felt safe, but it meant they would react worse if startled. And he knew it was her reaction earlier that made him think that taking her hand might be okay, which was the biggest mistake he could have made.
Consent once doesn't mean continuing consent. He knows that.
"Darcy, are you alright?" Jane's already up, standing at the base of the rock in concern. One of her hands reached up towards Darcy, but the former-intern just pulled her legs up to her chest and moved further out of reach.
"Stop," insisted Clint as he sat up, righting himself despite the sensation of spaghetti sliding down the back of his shirt. He drew in a deep breath and tried to force the pain out of his back as he stumbled to his feet. "Just, give her a minute."
Jane's eyes narrowed at Clint angrily, the small scientist turning on him like an angry dog. "Shut it, Barton. We didn't see what happened but I'd bet money that you upset her!"
"You're right, I did," confirmed Clint, not bothering to deny that he was responsible. "I did screw up. I'm responsible for scaring her. But I'm serious, just back down for a few minutes. Let her relax, otherwise you'll make it worse."
Jane didn't look convinced, but a glance up at Darcy apparently convinced her he might be at least a little bit right. So she stepped back and waited, like the rest of them, until Darcy took a deep breath and slowly uncoiled herself. She wouldn't look up at any of them though as she pushed off the ledge and dropped to the ground.
"Sorry," she muttered, holding out a shaky hand to Clint.
He stared at it for a moment, before shaking his head and waving it away. "This isn't your fault Darcy and no one is mad at you."
Pushing to his feet, he never touched her hand because he knew she wasn't ready. He'd done the same thing: offered his hand, some sign of normalcy because he'd flipped out. Coulson had ignored his hand the one time he'd flipped him to the ground because of an incident like that. It was the smartest thing ever because Clint wasn't okay to be touched at that time.
Darcy shifted uneasily, withdrawing her hand with a furrowed brow. It was like she couldn't process that someone wasn't pushing her. Or, well, someone other than Coulson, because he doubted Coulson would have ever pushed Darcy. "Thanks."
The unstated reason for the thank you was powerful: thank you for not pushing it, thank you for being respectful, thank you for recognizing what others usually don't. Clint just nodded in return. Darcy was trying to help him sort through the hell in his head- the least he could do was respect her enough to recognize the signs of her own distress.
"I'm gonna go inside," stated Darcy suddenly. "Grab a shower." She didn't say anything else as she walked away from the group, just restraining herself from darting away. No one offered any objections as she disappeared, just watched her flee into the safety of the house.
As soon as she was thought to be out of ear shot though, Jane turned furiously on Clint. "What the hell was that? What just happened!"
Clint sighed, not really sure he wanted to try and explain what just happened. Still, Jane was pissed and she'd probably go storming after Darcy if he didn't at least offer some explanation. Pulling off his shirt (because the spaghetti was starting to turn cold), Clint focused on trying to wipe the noodles from the fabric as he spoke. "She was relaxed and I didn't think to ask before I reached over to touch her hand. I was trying to comfort her, and I startled her instead. She went into defensive mode. End of story."
He could feel the others staring at him, questioning what he'd said. Of course they'd be suspicious, it wasn't like he advertised that he'd been through something similar. It wasn't like he talked about the fact he'd been beaten as a kid, too. He didn't jump when people touched him anymore, mostly because Coulson had helped break him of most of that habit. What was left, well, he could pass it off as PTSD.
"So why not accept her apology?" asked Pepper curiously.
"Because there's nothing for her to apologize for," replied Clint simply, shrugging a bit as he gave up on the shirt. "I freaked her out. It's on me, not her." Looking up at the others finally, she gave them another shrug. "I'm going to try to save my shirt. Let Darcy get her head back in a good place and just don't worry about her. She'll be okay, it happens."
"You sound like you're speaking from experience," remarked Tony suspiciously, narrowing his eyes at Clint. He never had to answer though, because Pepper did him the favor of smacking Tony's shoulder for his comment. "Ow! Pep!"
"Tony, you don't ask people things like that!" groaned Pepper, glaring at him. "It's rude."
"Why?" asked Tony, rubbing his arm.
Clint didn't catch the rest. He used the distraction of a Tony/Pepper argument to disappear inside. Natasha probably noticed (she always noticed), but no one else would. Besides, he needed a new shirt, right? It wasn't like he was going to check on Darcy. Well, okay, if he could check on her subtly, he would, but he wasn't going to actually talk to her.
Heading upstairs, he noted the sound of running water from the master bedroom and let out a sigh of relief. Intentionally or unintentionally, Darcy had left the hall bathroom open for him. Which was good because he was pretty sure his back was stained red from tomatoes.
The guest bathroom was a lot bigger than he'd thought it would be, but given it was probably Darcy's main bathroom it made sense. Like in her bedroom, the bathroom closet door had slates on it and he knew the inside was big enough to hide in. The room was big and included a large window someone could escape through if necessary. A hiding spot, maneuvering space, and multiple exits. It was pretty obvious that the bathroom was designed with Darcy in mind.
Throwing his shirt in the sink, Clint ran water over it in an attempt to get some of the red free and left it to soak. Maybe if he was in any way lucky, some of it would come out if he soaked it. Probably not though- that just wasn't his luck.
Leaving the most-likely ruined fabric to soak in the sink, Clint cut back down the hall towards Darcy's room. The water was still running from what he could hear as he ducked into her bedroom for his bag. He probably had a few minutes before she got out, leaving him with some time to dig out new clothes. Yeah, he could just drag his whole bag into the bathroom but that sounded unappealing. Besides, he'd just sort of thrown everything into a bag and zipped it up. It was really just easier to get what he wanted before he showered.
Turning around with his clothes in hand, Clint almost jumped out of his skin. Darcy was standing in the doorway, a towel wrapped around her body and her hair dripping down her back. He struggled to draw breath for a moment- between her surprising appearance and her nakedness, he was having trouble focusing enough to get himself under control. Darcy, by contrast, appeared completely unfazed by the whole matter. She just slipped past him and headed towards her closet without a word.
He debated trying to ask how she was or checking in to see if she was feeling better, but the set of her shoulders and her body advised him against it. Her shoulders were still set in a tense line and her face was devoid of any expression. It wasn't a surprise that she'd shut down, but he knew trying to talk to her right now wouldn't be welcome. The fact that she wasn't hiding her distress was huge; it showed a sense of trust that he hadn't known she felt towards him. That was enough for him. If she was going to show him how she was really feeling and not bother to try to act okay when she wasn't, he'd do her the favor of not pressing for answers.
So he silently left the room, heading to the bathroom to wash the sauce and stupidity from his back.
