A/N- Thank you so much, as always, for everyone's reviews, follows and favourites. You're all so kind and amazing! Anyway, onwards and upwards. All I ask for is a little patience, everything will be explained soon, don't you worry!

Chapter 18

They didn't escort her to the Bifrost. She was led out of Jane's room and through a number of halls, before the guards let go and positioned themselves at either side of a doorway. She looked at both of them with confusion, their faces returning blank stares. Sighing, she pushed past them and opened the door tentatively.

"This better not be some sort of…"

She stopped dead when she saw Odin, dimly lit under the candles in the small room.

"I thought you would like to say goodbye." His voice was quiet and stern as he stepped to the side, revealing a stone slab covered with black silk. She knew what was underneath, but asked anyway.

"Is that…"

"Yes. Though I'd advise you to not uncover him. Would you like a brief minute?"

Darcy took a shuddering breath before shaking her head and taking a step back, clinging to the wall as if her life depended on it. Her eyes never left the black cloth and the contents underneath.

"No. I don't want to. Not like this."

"I merely thought-"

Darcy looked at him with exasperation. "You thought what? That showing me his corpse would be some sort of closure?"

The King leant on Gungnir and said nothing, seemingly confused by the lack of Darcy's gratefulness. He knew that an hour ago, she was in his Throne room, being dragged away for insolence. He understood that he was harsh, and so tried being a compassionate King. By the look on Darcy's face, he had displayed anything but compassion.

"You have no idea do you? I know you did this with the best intentions, but I don't…" She was struggling to find a way to say what she wanted without being disrespectful… again. Odin sighed heavily.

"You have my apologies."

"I- what?"

"You have been through a trying time, and I understand that I was very short with you. Sometimes we forget about other's struggles, though it was not your place to defy me, and so I acted harshly despite your horrific experience. I realise now that I was unkind, but through my grief I may have projected my frustration onto you. I wish to apologise."

Darcy looked at Odin, confused. Was she being Punk'd?

"Um. Thank you?"

"You may leave here at your own leisure. We have healers that can treat sicknesses of the mind, if you wished to stay."

Sickness of the mind? She wasn't sick. She didn't need therapy. She needed a long bath and home comforts, as far as she was concerned.

"I'm fine. I want to leave now."

Odin nodded. "As you wish. I will call upon Heimdallr-"

"Wait." She bit her lip, looking at the corpse-shaped blanket on the slab. "Is there… no way to bring him back? You guys have magic, right? You must have some way-"

"We cannot."

"You can't or you won't?"

Odin sighed deeply, crossing the room to put a comforting hand on Darcy's shoulder. "There are many that I would wish to resurrect, given the chance. There were enchantments, spells to reverse death, though they have been lost millennia ago, as the ones who wielded them were the most wicked of our realm. It would be unwise to follow in their footsteps."

"I understand."

Darcy looked once more at the slab, silently saying her goodbyes.

MIDGARD

Jane's lab was empty.

Like, completely empty.

Darcy's voice echoed as she cautiously wandered through the building, shouting her 'hello's' to Erik. No voice answered her, and Darcy wondered what the hell had happened. All of Jane's scientific thingimabobs were missing, the cupboards devoid of any edible food (Darcy could've benefited from a fry-up of epic proportions right now). And Erik wasn't even there.

It was only when she broke into Jane's email minutes later that she noticed the sharp, to the point message from SHIELD, dated a few days previously:

"We have recovered your research. Any equipment, as previously agreed, is currently overlooked by Stark Industries."

So Jane must've dropped her research on Earth. Why this annoyed Darcy was beyond her.

Probably because she didn't have a job anymore, and had no way to sustain her livelihood. But Erik… had he gone to work for Stark, too?

The answer was in the form of a handwritten note folded on her bed, upstairs. Darcy could've sworn she could see her life being flushed down the toilet, slow motion-style as she read through it. No, Erik hadn't gone to Stark Industries, he'd gone back home, to Sweden, to continue his research alone. That was easily Erik-code for 'don't follow me', and sent a wave of sadness through her.

Yes, she had wondered how life would be now Jane was practically a Disney Princess in a huge castle, in space, but for old times' sake (and her sanity's sake) she had pictured everything exactly the same. Now it seemed even Erik didn't care enough to stick around, after everything they'd gone through… But still, she was glad she could plan her return watching bad TV and not being bombarded by Erik's questions, waiting until the rent ended, leaving her homeless and jobless.

Suddenly exhausted, she fired up her laptop and checked her emails. Time to go job-hunting.

It was strange how much her current situation hit her when she'd returned to Puerto Antigua. She hadn't had the time to worry about her current immortal state, and the fact she'd outlive everyone except Jane and the Asgardians when she wasn't on Earth. So when she woke up that morning to the confides of the lab/house in New Mexico instead of an Asgardian palace, she broke down and had a good, healthy mope before returning to her good old Darcy-like self. It only took her a couple of months, but still, she had her moments. But now her brain was on Christmas mode, and she was determined to have a good time despite her troubled mind.

She'd moved back into her old room in her parent's house temporarily for the Christmas season, chuckling at the Bon Jovi posters still on the wall since god knows when. Her parents hated cleaning her room out, and she wasn't likely to start anytime soon. All her belongings were right where she left them before she went to college for her last year of internship (including a mouldy cup of coffee on her desk that made her gag). Only a few of her possessions found their way to New Mexico- Darcy travelled pretty light despite the junk she owned.

She flicked through her old belongings quietly on the night of Christmas Eve, careful not to wake anyone in the house. She knew her brother would be up at the crack of dawn to open his presents, so any premature waking would drive her parents up the wall. Josh was only 8, still young enough to be ecstatic about Christmas, but old enough to have coherent conversations with. Not that she had many conversations with him- he always had his head stuck in a book.

She put her iPod headphones in and turned the volume to max as she reached for the junk under her bed. The boxes under there were comedy gold, containing all the angst-ridden letters and diaries she'd written as a teen, along with some amazingly hilarious photos, too. God, she'd been one melodramatic teenager.

She was on her third diary, tears of laughter rolling down her cheeks, when she saw something move out of the corner of her eye. Her smile disappeared, and she pulled the headphones out of her ears frantically.

"Darcy."

There was a ghost in the corner of her room sporting a husky as hell British accent and slicked back black hair. So, naturally, she screamed like a banshee and threw the diary in her hands at the silent man, watching him disappear entirely.

Seconds later, her door burst open, scaring the life out of her even more as her parents rushed in, flustered. Her dad held a baseball bat in one hand as her mom stood behind him, peering into her room.

"Darce? Darcy, are you okay?"

She managed a choked "yes" and pointed a shaking finger to her thrown diary. Her parents followed her stare and looked at each other confused. Her father lowered the baseball bat, disappointed.

"Spider." She lied, trying to breathe slowly, not quite managing to slow her heart rate. "Ginormous spider."

Her mom sighed with relief, and rolled her eyes. She looked a lot like Darcy when she did that, but the two were practically twins as much as looks were concerned. Darcy had inherited her father's eyes, but the rest was left to her mother's beauty.

"A spider." Her mother repeated lifelessly, sighing heavily. "Jesus, Darce."

"Didn't realise you were so scared of them." Her dad questioned, code for 'why the hell did you have to scream so loud at 3am?'

"Y'know… Only when they take me by surprise." She said through her teeth, staring blatantly at where Loki had just disappeared with annoyance.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Jim Lewis frowned as his daughter nodded frantically. "Well then. Your mom and I are going to bed. Keep the screams to a minimum unless you're being murdered, yeah?" He chuckled to himself and followed his wife out of the door.

Leaving Darcy alone and with the slight possibility she was going insane.

A/N- Being English, it almost killed me to use the word 'mom' … But I'll carry on in the true American spirit! And I know I'm hellbent on painting Odin as a bastard, I reckon nobody can be that much of a dick without having a little bit of a conscience. So if that scene feels out of place, it's just Odin realising he may have been a bit of a dickhead to Darcy (and Loki) and trying to make up for it!

On another note, I'm going to be publishing this to AO3 at some point, too. Just so people who prefer to read it over there can choose! (I know some people much prefer it over there) But don't worry, I'll upload new chapters to both at the same time!