Selfish
Darcy laid curled up on her side of the bed, her forehead and knees pressing against the cold wall. There was an emptiness in her; something completely devoid of feeling. It was a numbness… Darcy’s eyes stared straight ahead, unblinking as she tried to define the feeling within her. Words were weak, nothing in the whole of creation could correctly express what it was she was feeling/not feeling. It hadn’t always been that way for her, she had once been happy. She couldn’t pinpoint when things went to shit, maybe somewhere between London and her return to the states. All she remembered was waking up one morning and thinking how lovely it would be just to never wake again. She had hid the way she felt for a long time; pasting magazine smiles on her face to hide her blank expression. She had gone out, had fun with her friends, and went to work. It all seemed perfectly normal to everyone watching. Everyone but Phil.
It had taken another God damned machine hell bent on killing everyone for Coulson to make his return to the living. Actually it had been the fact that Darcy was once again in the middle of it all and Coulson had rushed out to save her head. Darcy had gone with him then, separated from Jane as she had been. For awhile Darcy had been able to push away the nothingness; she had purpose in helping Phil had his team. But as before things turned to shit. She had tried to hide it from him as she had done with the others. She hadn’t realized just how perceptive Phil was though.
He had done his best to help her, and doing so he had fallen in love. Darcy knew she felt the same way, even if sometimes the nothingness seemed to mute the feelings. It was why she held the small needle in her hand.
She knew people would call her selfish. They would talk about how she hadn’t thought about anyone but herself. They were wrong though. They didn’t understand that it was Phil she thought about the most.
He spent so much of his time caring for her, and she saw the agony on his face. She wanted to get better, but she couldn’t seem to swim out of that black-hole. He thought he hid it well from her, just how much her depression hurt him. But she could see it in his eyes and the set of his mouth. It hurt every time he looked at her with pain in his eyes.
Without blinking Darcy lowered the needle until she could feel her skin break. She imagined she could feel that cursed nothingness filling as the substance filled her veins. Her lids slowly lowered, a small smile on her face. Both her and Phil were finally free.