Chapter 22
“Mom?”
Darcy couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t think.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Diane choked, raising a hand to cup Darcy’s face, “Oh, my girl.”
Darcy threw herself into her mother’s embrace, not caring that the arms that caught her were frozen nor that the flesh that should have been soft and yielding was instead a touch too hard.
No, all Darcy cared about was that her mom smelled exactly the same and that the hand combing through her hair was the same one to have done it a million times before.
“Mom,” Darcy sobbed.
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Not for the first time, Bucky wondered how such a small person could be so intimidating. He could overpower Jane, obviously, but the chance that she would take him with her was better than he liked.
There was a familiarity about Jane’s manic genius, an imprint of a brash voice booming from a mustached face, that evoked the same feeling of uneasy awe in Bucky. Frustratingly, the memories were still fuzzy, out of reach. The healers had been cautious about starting any treatment, worried that the wrong move could erase his memories entirely. Spearing another sausage with more aggression than was needed, Bucky recalled the well meaning pity in Eir’s eyes as she described the barbaric tactics HYDRA had used to keep their weapon pliable.
Chemicals, crudely and primitively applied in Eir’s view, were used to suppress his neurons, followed by enough electricity to melt a regular man’s brain to wipe away any trace of James Buchanan Barnes. Eir had said that it was beyond remarkable that he as able to remember anything without medical intervention. Darcy, bless her, had chirped that he was stupidly strong and crazy stubborn. That HYDRA had been no match.
How he wished his girl was right.
“So,” Jane interrupted his musings, “Bucky.”
Pausing his chewing, he looked around the empty patio, silently asking ‘who else?’
Jane narrowed her eyes and straightened in her seat.
Bucky swallowed nervously.
“Before we start this, I want you to know that I do feel for you. I think that you have been through terrible things, things that no one should ever have to go through. I think that what happened was not your fault, and I think you are incredibly brave to be going after answers like you are.”
Bucky felt sweat building on his brow.
“With that out of the way,” Jane wiped at her mouth daintily with her napkin, carefully laying down and folding her hands on the table before continuing, “We begin.”
Bucky tried to swallow again but found his mouth too dry. “Begin?” he asked hoarsely, not daring to break eye contact.
Jane calmly nodded. “Yeah. We’ll start with you telling me what you’re doing with Darcy.”
“I,” he tried before an emotion other than fear and anxiety bubbled forth, “I don’t think that’s any of your business.” Bucky clenched his metal fist, not caring that Jane would hear the mechanics of his arm whir under the strain. In fact, he would like that, like scaring her back because how dare she.
“Bucky,” Jane called, but he was too busy letting his anger take over.
How dare she try to take Darcy away from him?
A delicate hand on his fist, his sensors barely picking up the soft touch, pulled him back from his spiraling thoughts. Bucky was horrified to find the knife he’d been using on his breakfast now being brandished like…
He didn’t remember picking it up.
“Bucky,” Jane called again, her tone far kinder than he deserved and hand still resting gently on his fist and seemingly not caring about the knife within it.
“Oh, God,” he moaned, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know…”
“Hey, I could have had a better lead in,” Jane said. She pulled the knife from his slack grasp. “I’ve been trying to decide how to approach the subject for weeks now.”
“I think I have to take the blame for this one, Dr. Foster,” Bucky whispered.
“It’s Jane. You know that,” she sighed, “Look, all of what I said before still stands. But while none of the last 70 years is your fault, I still worry about the lasting effects.”
Effects like the minutes before. He appreciated that she didn’t say it out loud.
Jane continued. “You’re not stable. You’re better than you were, absolutely, and improving, but the fact of the matter is that yours isn’t the sort of trauma that magically goes away overnight. Darcy is my best friend. More than that, she’s my family. We’ve been each other’s family for a long time, and there will never be a time where I don’t love her with all of my heart. That means that I am always going to worry and look out for her. Just like she does for me.”
Like all of his goddamn memories, Bucky could only feel vague familiarity, but something about how Jane described her and Darcy’s friendship… He knew about family. Had had it before.
With Steve.
“I get that,” Bucky said, moving his hand off the table at last, leaning back in his chair away from Jane, “You don’t want me with Darcy.”
She leaned back, too, and folded her arms. Peering shrewdly down her nose at him, she said “Actually, that’s not exactly true. I want Darcy safe, yes, but I also want her happy. Happy means whatever she chooses.”
That was enough to make Bucky nonplussed. “What?”
“Darcy is a grown woman. She makes her own decisions, and it’s pretty obvious that she has chosen you. I need to know that you are going to choose her, too.”
He opened his mouth to answer, but Jane cut him off before he could get the words out.
“Choosing her doesn’t only mean wanting her,” she said, cocking her head, “It means working to be the best partner you can be, to working together to be the best versions of yourselves that you can be. I need to know that you can do that. That you can try your best and keep trying every day.”
Bucky took a deep breath, letting his conviction shine through.
“I can,” he said, “I will.”
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Darcy sobbed for what felt like forever.
Diane held her through all of it.
Finally, she wrangled herself to the occasional hiccup. “Mom?” she asked, “How are you here?”
With eyes as wet as her daughter’s, Diane smiled sadly. “Mephisto released my soul.”
Hope, bright and sharp, burst in her heart.
“He released you? So you can,” but her mom interrupted her.
“I’m still dead, sweetheart. Not even Mephisto can raise the dead.”
Hope burned when it died, but Darcy didn’t want to waste these moments on that pain.
“So what, dear old dad released you? Released you from what? Why?” She rested her head on her mother’s shoulder, not willing to give up Diane’s embrace and equally unable to process the fact that this would be the last one she would ever receive from her mother.
Oh, Frigga, this was the last hug that she would ever get from her mom.
Diane, like so many times before, seemed to know exactly what her daughter was thinking.
“I’ve got you,” she spoke into Darcy’s hair, “Just because I’m gone, it doesn’t mean that I don’t love you. That I’m not so proud of the woman you’ve become. I’ve heard about the things you’ve done. Hell was rife with stories of what you’d done: how you helped save the world, how you fought ancient evils and saved monarchs,” Darcy felt Diane’s tears dribble onto her cheek, “You are so strong, my beautiful girl. You were worth every choice I made. I would do everything again, everything exactly the same, because it got me you.”
“Mom,” Darcy whimpered, “Don’t go. Please, please stay. Stay here with me! I need you, please, I need you… It’s been so hard without you!”
“I want to stay more than anything,” Diane shuddered, “But I can’t. I’ve already stayed too long, and I still have to tell you what I was meant to tell you.”
“No,” Darcy clutched at her mother tighter, but even she could feel the ice that was calling to Diane.
“Listen to me, sweetheart, this is important,” Diane pulled away, “Mephisto released me from hell, and I’ll get to rest now. With grandma and everyone else who died a normal death. I’ll be fine now, I promise.”
“Why’d he do that?” Darcy sniffled, trying to keep ahold of Diane, but her mother gently peeled Darcy’s fingers from her.
“Because he knew you wouldn’t listen to him without some goodwill gesture, without the specter of me hanging over you both. But you have to listen to him, Darcy,” Diane shook her head at Darcy’s incredulous look, “You have to! The fate of everyone and everything depends on it.”
“I can’t just…” Darcy spluttered.
“You can, and you will,” Diane gave one last squeeze to Darcy’s hands before stepping back into the swirling mists, “I have to go now. I love you so much. More than anything. You were worth everything,” Diane smiled, tears rolling freely, “Even dying.”
Darcy watched the mists envelope her mother.
“I love you, Mom,” she choked out before Diane disappeared with one last smile.
With an anguished scream, Darcy fell to her knees, oblivious to the shifting world around her. She collapsed onto the floor, unheeding of Odin rush to her side.
She only cried.
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Bucky had just arrived and greeted Eir when a guard rushing into the room had him positioning himself protectively before the healer.
“I am sorry, Lord Barnes,” the guard huffed, “but it is the Princess, sir.”
Clarity washed over Bucky, a deadly focus that had him stalking towards the guard. The Asgardian took an instinctive step back.
“Where is she?” Bucky growled.
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Darcy was floating.
She should be more alarmed at not feeling the floor beneath her, but she didn’t have it in her. It was taking all of her to remember how to breathe.
A softly murmured, “I’ve got you,” had her heart pick up, remembering her mom saying that only minutes or was it hours ago. That damn hope had her taking note of her surroundings. She wasn’t floating but being carried, a warm arm cradling her torso while a cold arm held up her legs. Her hope died when she realized it wasn’t her mom with her, but losing this shard of hope was not as painful as the last time.
“Bucky,” she gasped, not able to get much volume while still sobbing.
“Shh, doll, I’ve got you, won’t let nothin’ happen to you,” he soothed, accent back in full force.
Brooklyn had never sounded so good.
Darcy buried her head into his shoulder as he walked them through the palace towards their room. She could feel his heartbeat under her cheek, smell him underneath the Asgardian oils she teased him about when he started using them last week.
Bucky nudged open the door with his foot, kicking it shut with a resounding thud. He laid her down on the bed, but she didn’t let him rise up.
“Stay with me,” Darcy pleaded, “Please.”
Running a finger along her red cheek, he went to settle down on the bed, curling his larger body into hers.
“I’m right here with you,” Bucky promised, “Always.”
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Darcy’d cried herself to sleep in his arms. Even in slumber, tears slipped out from her closed lids and whimpers escaped her. He couldn’t stop himself from kissing the furrow in her brow and pulling her into him while whispering nonsense to her. It was some consolation that she calmed down from his ministrations.
Bucky still wasn’t sure what had happened. He’d been led into the Queen’s room only to find Darcy bawling in Odin’s lap on the ground. Had all of his attention not been on his girl’s pain, he might have found the picture of the All-Father stiffly patting a weeping woman while his eye spun around the room for someone to help funny. As it was, he’d only had a nod for Odin as he swept Darcy up into his arms, intent on getting her somewhere safe.
Now, he wished he’d had the presence of mind to ask what Darcy and Odin’s meeting had been about so he could have some clue as to what had caused her reaction.
A muffled voice in the hallway caught his ear. Rolling onto his side, shifting Darcy so she was still cradled safely against him, Bucky heard Jane sending away the guard stationed outside.
With a quiet grunt, Jane heaved the door open. Bucky checked to make sure Darcy was still sleeping soundly as Jane made her way over to them.
“Do you know what happened?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
Jane reached out to brush Darcy’s hair back from where it had fallen over her face, fingers lingering. “She saw her mom,” Jane whispered.
Bucky frowned. “What? Her mom died years ago, Mephisto killed her. Darcy said so.”
“He did,” Jane leaned against the bed, jostling Bucky and thus Darcy. He shot her an unamused glare, so she continued, “Mephisto had taken Diane’s soul, but he released her. Darcy got to see her before she moved on to wherever it is the dead apparently go.”
Another whimper from the girl on his chest broke the conversation. Darcy’s reactions made more sense now, and despite not truly remembering any of his own family, Bucky couldn’t imagine how much seeing the family you thought lost only to lose them immediately all over again hurt.
He dropped another kiss on Darcy’s cheek before turning to Jane.
“I have this, Jane,” he began before she could argue, “I promise I have this.”
Looking torn, Jane ran a hand down Darcy’s sleep warmed arm. “Maybe I should be here, though,” she argued.
“Not tryin’ to chase you out, but this is what you were talking about earlier,” Bucky pointed out, “This is the kind of thing that I need to do to be the best partner for her. I can do that, hold her now, and be here for her when she wakes up. Then we can all have our usual dinner or something. She knows you’re here, and you can be here in two seconds if she needs you.”
Bucky could support Darcy and could help her. He needed to be allowed to do that, the urge as strong as anything he’d felt. It had as much to do with soothing Darcy’s pain as it had to do with realizing this protective streak for those he cared about was an intrinsic part of himself, a part of James Buchanan Barnes.
He understood what Jane had been talking about earlier, and the more he discovered about himself, the more he was convinced that he could be the partner Darcy needed. He was broken and in pain and dangerous, but Darcy had shown him time and again that she could handle that. Not to mention with Darcy being who she was, she needed someone with teeth.
Huddling her as tightly as he dared while she slept on, Bucky knew he couldn’t lose her, couldn’t lose that trust between them or lose the way that holding her felt like he was holding everything good in the world in his two arms.
Jane frowned before puffing out a laugh. “I guess I asked for this, huh?” she asked, self-deprecation dripping from her voice. “I’m so used to taking care of her that I kind of hadn’t thought through sharing the privilege.”
Bucky, realizing the faith he was being shown, smiled appreciatively.
With a last squeeze, Jane let go and moved to the door, throwing a smile over her shoulder as she disappeared from view.
Darcy sniffled at the heavy thud of the door shutting, annoyance crossing her features rather than despair for the first time tonight. Bucky pulled another fur over them, burying his face against her hair and deciding to finally nap a bit himself.
He needed to be well rested after all because he had a mission when he woke, one that he chose and one that he knew would be his for a long time to come:
Partner to his best girl.