Sam
But they didn’t talk about it when he got back. When Steve got back, he couldn't talk. He was too busy being unconscious.
Darcy paced back and forth outside Steve’s “recovery room.” She was angry no one was doing anything to help him.
“There's not much we can do,” Helen Cho said, a woman Darcy had previously respected. Then that woman refused to help Steve.
You’re not being reasonable, Death accused, still in their black panther form.
“His body heals at an incredible rate,” Helen continued. “We still don’t know the exact nature of Erskine’s formula. Anything I try could disrupt it, and the Cradle can’t reproduce cells enhanced by uncertain means. It’s not worth the risk. He’ll be fine in a few hours, maybe a day at the most, but he has to heal on his own.”
It didn’t stop Darcy from worrying. Was it her fault? Was he too distracted by her and Death to focus out on the field?
“Hey,” someone said. Darcy jumped. She turned to see Sam Wilson poking his head out of Steve’s room. “You can come in, you know.” She’d seen him around, especially with Steve. He’d introduced them, but they’d never talked.
Darcy’s hands pulled at the hem of her sweater. “I’m not sure he wants me in there.”
Sam frowned. “You two have a fight?”
“I’m not sure,” Darcy admitted. “I think we were about to, but then-”
Sam nodded. “Well, come in anyway.” She still hesitated and the former para-rescue grinned at her. “If he objects to pretty girls worrying over him, he’s an idiot.”
Darcy smiled, grateful for both the compliment and the humor, and followed him through the door.
And the small amount of good cheer Sam had imparted vanished.
Steve looked awful. He was still and pale… it didn’t even look like he was breathing. Only the heart monitor told her he was alive at all. “Oh God,” she murmured.
“Hey,” Sam said, bringing her attention back to him. “It looks bad, but he’s survived worse. He’ll be fine. Trust me. He’ll wake up in a few hours and you guys can have that fight you were talking about.”
It was a weak joke, and Darcy couldn’t even bring herself to give him a pity chuckle. Same sighed, found her a chair and offered her a crossword puzzle. She looked up at him, confused. “What?”
“I usually play music and do crosswords while I’m waiting for Wonder boy here to heal up,” he said. “I think he’d feel weird if we stared at him the whole time with worried expressions.”
Darcy frowned but nodded. Sam was probably right. “I’m actually more of a sudoku girl,” she said, pulling out her phone and pulling up the relevant app.
He nodded and put on his iPod while they both pretended not to count the beeps signalling Steve’s pulse.
Darcy was on her fifth puzzle when Sam coughed lightly. She looked up to see him staring at the ground around her chair. “I don’t want to alarm you,” he said, “but there’s a giant black cat at your feet.”
Darcy started and looked down at Death. Death met her gaze and blinked. They were still a black panther. She looked at Sam who hadn’t moved but also hadn’t taken his eyes off Death. How could she trust him already? She looked back down at the big cat.
Death looked back and blinked again.
Darcy sighed. “They’re fine,” she said to Sam.
“Uh… it’s not that I don’t believe you,” Sam said, “but I’m gonna need more of an explanation than that.”
“I’m not good at explaining it, but…” Darcy sighed. “Don’t freak out, okay? That’s Death.”
“Death?” Sam asked, incredulous.
“Death,” Darcy said. “And I’m sort of an… anchor is the word Death uses. It just means Death uses me as a sort of reference point in spacetime for this particular dimension… I think? Honestly, Thor explains it better. And Jane understands it more.”
“Uh huh. And… does Death always look like a black panther?”
“No, they can look however they want. But they usually look like an Earth animal,” Darcy said. “I think that’s for my benefit.”
Sam nodded. “And… how come I didn’t see them until just now?”
“Death only shows themselves to me and people I trust,” Darcy said.
Sam looked up from Death to Darcy for the first time since this conversation started. He smiled. “Thanks. I trust you too.”
“Thanks?”
“Do they ever look like the grim reaper?” Sam asked. “Black clothed skeleton with a scythe?” Death snorted in distaste. “Guess not,” Sam said, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice.
Darcy wasn’t laughing. She was looking at Steve. “He’d just found out,” she admitted. “When you guys got the call to assemble. I didn’t even get the chance to explain.”
“Darcy,” Sam said, and she heard him get up out of his chair. “Darcy, this isn’t your fault. An old enemy got some new abilities we weren’t expecting.”
“But what if he was distracted and that’s why-”
“It’s not your fault,” Sam insisted. He put his hand on her shoulder. “Honestly, Darcy, we’ve both seen weirder than this. It’s not that strange.”
“It isn’t?” Darcy asked, voice flat.
“Not really,” but it wasn’t Sam who was reassuring her. Steve blinked his eyes open. “Not compared to armies from space. Or flying aircraft carriers. Or Bucky still being alive.”
“Steve!” Darcy went to hug him but hesitated. She didn’t want to hurt him any worse.
Steve smiled and opened his arms to her. “I’m fine, Darcy.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. It was awkward, leaning over the bed rail and medical equipment, but Steve hugged her back. She didn’t think she’d ever gotten a better hug.
“Hey,” Sam said. “Where’s my hug?”
“Wait your turn,” Steve said.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Sam shot back.
Death put their front legs on the bed and headbutted Steve’s ankle. Darcy pulled back, embarrassed. “I’m sorry. They- I can explain now.”
Steve looked just as embarrassed. “No need. I was kind of… eavesdropping on your conversation with Sam.” He shrugged. “Sorry.”
Death leaped on the bed and sat on Steve’s legs. “Hey!” Steve protested, but it wasn’t any use. Death did what Death did.
If I didn’t, he would get up right now, and he needs at least two more hours of rest, Death told her.
“Death says you can’t get up right now because you need two more hours of rest,” Darcy translated.
Steve looked a little nonplussed at the big cat on his legs. “Um… okay, but we have a lead on Bucky and I’d like to-”
You can wait two hours, Death said.
“I don’t think this is negotiable, Steve,” Darcy said, sitting back down in her chair. “Sudoku?” she offered.
Steve leaned back against the pillows, defeated. “Fine.”