Chapter 19
“Sorry, what? Can you repeat that?” Tony stuck a finger in his ear and wriggled it around, pulling it out with a pop.
Sam was staring at the ceiling, then suspiciously narrowing his eyes at the floor, before settling on an accepting, “Huh,” and shrugging his shoulders.
The Black Widow didn’t appear to be moving at all.
Clint had to open his mouth a few times before sound came out. “But not like… the actual Devil, right?” he leaned forward and looked pleadingly at Darcy, “Like, the Devil-devil? That’s not…”
“You’re sitting in a room with the actual god of Thunder, Clint,” Darcy reminded him dryly.
“Yeah,” Clint got up to pace, “But he’s an alien.”
“And I’m a demon,” she followed.
Jane came to her defense, “You’re only half demon. You’re half human, too.”
“How does that even work? Like, what, you’re mom got down and dirty with a guy who was literally horny?” Tony had joined Clint in pacing, but kept darting nervous glances her way.
Darcy didn’t have time to dignify that with a response before she felt it.
An ice prick at the back of her neck.
She stood up, cocking her head, letting the change come on, knowing that once she let her features shift, she’d be able to see more clearly.
As her eyes glossed over and her skin darkened, the Widow finally moved, reaching for something at the small of her back.
With a sigh, Darcy settled into her skin, letting her other senses wash over her.
It was a gun that the woman dripping with red was reaching for, an old one stinking of death. She was close to pulling it out, but that wasn’t the threat that had gotten her attention.
“Darcy?” she heard Jane ask, but ignored the question, focusing her mind like Betty had taught her so long ago.
There was someone in the apartment complex across the street, aiming a rifle straight at Bucky, finger already clenching on the trigger, poison lacing the bullet. Nasty stuff.
They were putting the Soldier down. Permanently.
Darcy looked back at him, met his eyes, and screamed.
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Bucky’s mind went blank, sure that Darcy had been telling him something with that look, but not knowing what.
He pulled a gun to parry the one that the redhead had pulled, relying on the ingrained skills to aim between her eyes on autopilot, much more concerned with whatever Darcy had seen to make her flee.
A heartbeat later, he felt the warmth of a body at his back, immediately accompanied by the sound of shattering of glass.
He caught her before she hit the floor, covering her body with his, but it was too late.
Jane was over the couch and at his side, hands covering and applying pressure to the weeping wound in Darcy’s shoulder while the rest of the room’s occupants took cover.
“Thor!” Jane ordered, not taking her eyes from Darcy, “Go, get him!”
She shoved Bucky, and thus Darcy whom he was still cradling, further underneath the window while Thor tore through it. Bucky’s world narrowed down to the woman in his arms, not noticing the crack of thunder from outside nor the blur of red and gold soaring through the broken window; not caring that Steve had rolled to them, huddling close and holding his shield over him and Darcy.
“Don’t worry, Bucktser,” she choked out, raising a hand but only managing to get it as high as his elbow, weakly grasping his arm, “It won’t kill me. I would know…”
Her words didn’t comfort him like she wanted because right after speaking them, she passed out cold.
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Thor hadn’t left much for them to interrogate. The Thunder God in a true fit of rage was a sight to behold, and he’d seemingly hit the end of his rope.
Tony had reached the scene, a room just a couple floors higher than their suite in the building across the street, soon after Thor had landed, but it didn’t matter.
“Blood is hell to get out of carpet, you know,” he said casually, watching Thor wipe Mjolnir on a nice Persian rug.
“I tire of dealing with this HYDRA. They meddle with forces beyond them,” Thor sighed.
Tony made a mental note to show him what he’d found out about Loki’s scepter later, when Thor wasn’t fresh from grinding bones to make his bread. He had JARVIS do a scan of the room and came up empty before Thor was standing, ready to fly.
“Come, we must get Darcy to a hospital posthaste,” Thor demanded, spinning his hammer to take flight.
“Yeah, doubt a doctor can do much for a hell-spawn,” Tony said, not missing the darkening of Thor’s face at the comment, “Lucky for us, Pepper and I just spent most of yesterday getting all of the SHIELD equipment with Stark tech back under our control.”
“I do not follow,” Thor muttered, still looking displeased.
“Means we have a quinjet. Means we have all the quinjets which we can use to fly Darcy to the Tower where I have a state of the art medical center and one Dr. Helen Cho. There’s no one better.”
Thor nodded, but raised the hammer ever so slightly, tilting it at Iron Man. “Alright, but know this: Should you or this Helen Cho act in any way inappropriately to Darcy Lewis, you will have offended not only Asgard as Darcy is a valued and beloved ally of my realm, but also the kingdom of Hell itself as she is it’s only and rightful heir.”
Tony blinked.
“Right,” he gulped, “No pressure.”
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In the end, Dr. Cho wasn’t much needed.
“I don’t understand it,” she fretted four days later over her sleeping patient, “Obviously, we are not dealing within human limitations,” she waved a hand over Darcy’s body which was still in its demonic form, “But even so, the toxin on the bullet would have been enough to fell Captain Rogers. Many times over, actually. Even without the toxin, the wound looks as though it’s had weeks to heal, not days.”
Bucky and Jane shared a look, used to the bewilderment of the doctor. The rest of the team, minus Sam and Natasha who had stayed in DC, had been holed up over HYDRA files. Bucky was happy to be rid of Steve, no matter how hangdog his face had been at leaving, and Jane was similarly glad to have Tony out of her sight.
It’d been just the two of them in the hospital room, a tentative truce having been reached at the understanding that they would work together to ensure Darcy was never alone.
Jane didn’t trust these people with Darcy, either, that much was clear to Bucky. He wasn’t sure the diminutive scientist trusted anyone with her friend, but Darcy had needed expertise outside of Jane’s wheelhouse.
As it stood, the only thing keeping Bucky from sprinting out of the sterile environment of the lab was the thought of some of the things that had been done to him in places like these.
Like hell that was happening to Darcy.
“Well, you said it yourself, doc” Bucky drawled, stretching his neck to relieve the tension, “We’re not dealin’ with human rules here.”
And wasn’t that a trip. It’s not like he hadn’t realized that Darcy was special, but he’d thought it was more like what had happened with him, some scientist getting ideas in his head and forcing them on people, playing God.
Darcy being anything other than human had never even occurred to him. From the looks on everybody’s faces when Darcy had blurted it out like she had, no one else had expected it, either. He wondered if that was why she hadn’t wanted to tell him about her powers, if she was scared of what he’d think.
He hoped that wasn’t it because from where he was standing, he was still the monster between the two of them.
“What is that blood for?” Jane’s sharp question broke him out of his musing.
Dr. Cho pulled the needle out from Darcy’s arm and taped a piece of gauze to the spot. “I’m testing the concentration of the toxin in her blood, same as before,” she said, patiently.
“And then?” Jane asked, standing up and making her way to Darcy bedside. She stroked Darcy’s fingers, and, not for the first time, Bucky was struck with the affection that Jane let shine in her actions.
“And then I shall burn the sample, as always, and I’m sure you’ll watch me to make sure I destroy all of it, as always.”
Jane smiled.
“Damn straight,” she said, happily following Dr. Cho out of the room.
Bucky huffed out a laugh, making his way over to the bed as well.
“You’ve got quite the woman looking out for you, doll,” he said, trying to dispel the silence that once again hung in the room. He’d only known her for a short time, true, but it was long enough to know how unnatural silence was around Darcy.
He didn’t expect the reply that came.
“You should see her when someone eats the last donut,” came Darcy’s groggy voice, followed shortly by an owlish blinking of her eyes.
“Doll?” he asked, rushing to help her as she tried to sit up, “Hey, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”
“I think it’s a marvellous idea. God, you have no idea how good this feels,” she sighed, rolling her shoulders as soon as she was upright.
“I’ve been shot before, I know how not good it feels,” Bucky argued, worried.
“Not being shot, doofus, being in my body again,” she said, reaching for the water pitcher on her nightstand, wincing slightly when she put weight on her shoulder. Impressive considering she shouldn’t be able to move it at all right now. She drank her full, skin and eyes slowly returning to normal the longer she was awake, and then continued, “I’ve been stuck in MSS. Well, not stuck, but even though the whole demon body thing lets me heal fast, it turns out that it burns like a bitch. Easier to just remove myself from it.”
“You’ve been here, though.” He would know. He’d only left for the occasional shower and food run, even sleeping in the armchair in the corner while trying to drown out Jane’s snores from the matching chair most nights.
“Yeah, my body was here. It’s hard to explain,” she said, “I knew that I could be in MSS, like my mind or soul or whatever, and I could skip out on the painful bits. Admittedly, watching all of you guys sit around got pretty boring after a while, but I got a lot of thinking done.”
Bucky was having a hard time wrapping his mind around what all Darcy could and couldn’t do and figured the best plan was just to roll with it. He’d make her write a list or something later.
“Oh,” he sat next to her, “Was any of this thinking about how not to be stupidly heroic and nearly get yourself killed?”
Darcy rolled her eyes, but it only served to highlight the purple bruises underneath them, stark in contrast with her white face.
Even exhausted, with tangled hair and eyelashes glued together from days of sleep, she looked beautiful. Especially since the memory of her bleeding out in his arms was so fresh.
“I didn’t nearly get myself killed. I know death, Bucky, I know it, everything about it. It was never going to kill me. That bullet was going to kill you, though,” she said softly, leaning closer to him.
Careful not to jostle her wound, even if it was long sealed, he slid his arm around her shoulder. She let her upper body fall into him, melting into his embrace and forcing him to use both his hands to hold her up.
He tried to tell himself it was just her fatigue that had her snuggling into his side, but it was hard to believe when she hummed into his neck like that and wrapped her own arms around him.
Letting his face rest in her hair, the dirt and oil not bothering him a bit, he gave in, “Okay. Thank you for saving me,” he held her tighter, “What were you thinking about then?”
“You,” she laughed into him, her rib cage expanding quickly under his hand, “How to help you, I mean. Help you remember.”
“I’m remembering some on my own,” he said, feeling apprehensive but not knowing why.
“No,” she said, pulling back to gaze at his face, “You’re not. Not really. If you were, you’d be talking to Steve.”
He felt his face flush, shame bringing the color to the surface, and went to speak, but a single finger from Darcy on his lips kept him quiet.
“I’m not blaming you,” she said, watching her finger run from the center of his mouth and then along his bottom lip, his breath stuttering at the contact, “But I know you want to remember. I think I know a way to help with that.”
If she kept up with her finger, Bucky would probably agree to anything she proposed. Still, her suggestion surprised him.
“I think we should go to Asgard.”
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Darcy made a note that recently being shot made people a lot more compliant.
It wasn’t a tactic she really wanted to use again, but it had its merits.
She was pressing her case in front of the Avengers, with the exception of Natasha, while Jane stood at her wing. Darcy had sent Bucky off to sleep in a real bed, though she wasn’t sure how much rest he’d get.
Thor thought it was a splendid idea, sure that the healers from his world could help ‘the Soldier of Winter’. Tony chimed in, nonchalantly informing them that HYDRA chatter indicated there was still a hit order out on Bucky, apparently having given up on bringing him back into the fold, and a capture order on her so going off world wasn’t the worst thing. Clint asked to come, but was promptly denied after his excited ramblings about space babes. Steve hadn’t said no which was as good as yes in her mind.
Jane had already declared she was going. Loudly.
There was a man in glasses and a purple shirt was shuffling around awkwardly behind the rest of them, so obviously uncomfortable that Darcy kept looking past her audience to him.
Squinting at him from behind her glasses, she was struck with a niggling sense of familiarity.
“Why do I know you?” she asked, never one to beat around the bush. Darcy moved closer to get a better look.
He checked around him for who she could be addressing, but, finding no one, mouthed ‘me’ questioningly at her.
“Duh,” she let the vowels drag out, wondering how one person could embody so much social flailing while being so still, “I know your face. Why do I know your face?”
“Uh,” he took off his glasses, intensely cleaning them on his wrinkled sleeve, “I taught at Culver for a bit?”
“Taught sciencey stuff?” she asked, observing his nod even though he was resolutely not looking up from his polishing, “Then no dice. I was super allergic to science class.”
“Then I’m not sure,” but he looked up, and, upon viewing his glasses-free face, knew immediately where she had seen him before:
On Betty’s desk, in a small frame off to the side, that Betty only talked about with a few drinks in her.
“You!” she shrieked, “You’re the jerk that ran out on Betty! Jane! I found the ass that left Betty!”
Jane perked up like a bloodhound on the scent.
“Dr. Banner? He’s the one?” she muttered, slinking over to join Darcy in staring him down.
“Um,” he gulped, taking a step back.
“Oh, party time,” they heard Tony whisper gleefully behind them.
No one noticed Steve make his exit, slipping out stealthily.
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Steve found Bucky in a guest suite, sitting on the couch with his eyes closed. As soon as he entered the room, Bucky was on his feet, knife in hand.
“Woah,” Steve calmed him, “It’s just me!”
Bucky didn’t look soothed, but at least he put his knife back in his boot. He stood there, arms limp at his side and looking anywhere but at Steve.
“I just wanted to talk to you, before you go to Asgard,” he began, but Bucky tensed up.
“You’re not going to keep me here,” he said, eyes flashing.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Buck,” Steve said softly, “I only wanted to tell you…” his mouth dried up, tongue weighed down with all the things he wanted to tell his best friend, but not knowing where to start. He swallowed, trying to get his thoughts in order. “I wanted to tell you that I’m going to shut HYDRA down. All of them, wiped out so no heads can grow back. Make up for not doing it right the first time,” he ended on a shrug, wanting to convey so much more, but hoping that there was enough of Buck in the man in front of him to recognize the promise in his words.
Bucky sighed, muscles of his neck relaxing.
“Last time, punk, you crashed yourself into the Arctic,” he said.
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Bucky wasn’t sure where the tease had come from, but it wasn’t lighthearted. It wasn’t meant to be hostile, either, which had to count for something.
“Hey, I said I didn’t do it right, didn’t I?” With a rueful smile, Steve sat down on the couch and let his hands hang between his open knees, bracing himself on his forearms, “For what it’s worth, if it’s worth anything, Buck, I’m sorry. For what’s happened to you… I can’t imagine…”
Bucky didn’t want to do this, realizing now that this was what he’d been avoiding all along. His head knew, even if he didn’t remember everything, that this wasn’t on Steve. He didn’t need to read all about Steve Rogers in that exhibit to know that, didn’t need his memories, just knew that Steve would have tried his hardest to save him if he’d known.
But his heart… His heart was heavy, covered in years of pain and horrors. It was that part of him that couldn’t look at Steve without wondering why he’d let this happen, even as his brain rationalized that it wasn’t Steve’s fault…
Bucky couldn’t help but look at Steve, and see that he got to stay a good man, where Bucky himself had been twisted, used up, and left stained black.
“I just,” Steve continued, unaware of Bucky’s internal crumbling, “I am so, so sorry.”
It wasn’t Steve’s fault. It wasn’t Steve’s fault.
“It wasn’t,” Bucky began, wanting to force the words out, but God, he couldn’t, not when it was so raw, not when he was still drowning in the void where his sense of self should be, “I can’t…” His arm started to hum, going through its settings, rhythmic vibrations echoing his distress.
“Buck,” Steve interrupted, eyes kind and so good, “It’s okay. I just had to tell you that. I’d be with you every step of the way if I thought it would help. Hell, I want to be there anyway, even after watching you cringe every time I so much as look at you, but I can’t be that selfish. I won’t make this about me, and it’s clear that I’m not the one who can help you. So I’ll do what I can: wipe HYDRA out, one by one. They won’t get you, they won’t be able to get anyone, ever again. I promise you that HYDRA ends with me.”
The arm was quiet again, but Bucky had to blink the moisture out of his eyes, refusing to acknowledge it.
“Ok,” he huffed, “I believe you.” Ducking his head, he laughed a bit before saying, “You know, Steve, I don’t remember a lot, but I do remember you gettin’ into your fair share of scrapes.”
“Yeah?” Steve answered, blinking as furiously as Bucky was. He was man enough, however, to actually wipe away the stray tears instead of pretending they weren’t there.
“For what it’s worth,” Bucky mirrored Steve’s earlier words, “I am sorry that I won’t be the one backing you up this time,” meaning every word despite any misplaced resentment he was sorting through in his own head.
“Don’t be,” Steve said before looking down and admitting in a soft, defeated voice, “After all, I owe you. When I was the one that fell, you jumped. I didn’t.”
Bucky didn’t know how to respond to that, no where near well enough to process that concept, but it chipped away at the distance he was trying to put between them, subconsciously or not.
Pulling Steve in for a long overdue hug, Bucky allowed himself to hold on as tightly as he wanted.
Steve wouldn’t break.