Chapter Eighteen
Clint-
Today’s Christmas Eve.
I hate you for dying.
-Darcy
“It’s Christmas, it’s Christmas,” Tony sang, peeking into Steve’s studio.
Steve looked up from his canvas. “Sometimes, I really think you revert back to being a child.”
“Requesting permission to enter,” Tony said. “I come bearing coffee.”
“Permission granted,” Steve waved him in. “I finished your painting last month and it’s hidden away until tomorrow. I’m working on Thor’s right now.”
Tony passed him one of the mugs. “I think this is the first Christmas they managed to get out of having to trek all the way out to their parents.”
Steve took a sip of coffee. “We’re going to have a full house. Peter invited Wade, Bruce invited Betty, Thor and Loki will be here, and Natasha is finally bringing Bucky home to meet everybody.”
“It’s cute how she thinks we don’t know, isn’t it?” Tony smiled, amused.
Steve laughed. “It’s her business. I’m just glad she found someone who made her happy.”
“Like you found me?” Tony teased, wiggling his eyebrows.
Steve rolled his eyes. “I’m not stroking your ego, Tony. I’m surprised I’m still coherent. Between the last minute Christmas orders and finishing up everyone’s presents, I think I’m going to have a permanent crick in my neck.”
“That I can help you with,” Tony volunteered. “I have magic fingers.”
Steve snorted, but bit back his response when Tony’s fingers dug into the sore spot above his right shoulder blade. He teased Tony about his ego, but he really was good at neck massages. Probably because that and foot massages were his go to subtle foreplay techniques. A couple minutes of Tony Stark rubbing out your knots and kinks and you were ready for just about anything.
Tony leaned forward, his lips brushing against Steve’s ear. “You know, I think I saw some mistletoe downstairs. You want to go find it with me?”
“Who says I need mistletoe? It’s Christmas Eve,” Steve murmured.
Clint-
Peter gave me this stupid notebook and told me to write to you. Apparently, that’s what got him through the death of his parents. It’s weird. This is paper.
I miss you.
-Darcy
“I am the best boyfriend ever,” Wade announced when Peter answered his phone.
Peter rubbed his eyes sleepily. “Because you woke me up early on Christmas Eve?”
“Shut up, you’ll love it. Look out your window,” Wade ordered.
Peter stumbled out of bed, tripping over a stack of books and nearly knocking himself out on the edge of his desk. At the window, he pushed aside the curtains and blinked at the stark brightness of the snow-covered world outside.
“Ow,” he moaned.
“Come on, Parker, open your eyes so you can freak out!” Wade prompted him.
Peter blinked once more to clear his vision and looked back outside. “Oh. My. God.”
“You like it?” Wade asked proudly.
Somehow, presumably in the middle of the night, Wade had built an igloo on the front lawn, complete with two snowmen guarding the door. Wade himself stood between the snow sentinels, one arm thrown out to the side.
“Put some pants on and come play with me,” Wade said playfully.
Peter dropped his phone on the bed and tugged on a pair of jeans. He pulled a sweatshirt on hastily and scrambled down the stairs, pausing at the door just long enough to tug on his boots and jacket before sprinting out into the snow.
Wade flung his arms open. “Am I cool or what?”
Peter tackled him in a hug, sending the both of them tumbling into the snow. Wade laughed as he tried to untangle their limbs. For his part, Peter kept squirming around, making it more difficult.
Peter planted a sloppy kiss on Wade’s mouth. “You definitely get a prize for the best Christmas present ever.:
Wade grinned. “Yeah?”
“I’ve always wanted an igloo,” Peter admitted.
“I’m happy to oblige. However, I refuse to give Eskimo kisses. I have to draw the line somewhere,” Wade shook his head, trying to be serious.
Peter shifted so his hands pinned Wade’s wrists to his sides and bent down so their noses brushed. “I’m not letting you up until I get an Eskimo kiss.”
“Then we’re going to be here for a very long time,” Wade answered stubbornly.
“I have all the time in the world,” Peter replied dryly.
Wade narrowed his eyes. “If you tell anyone I did this, I will deny it to my last breath and smash your igloo to bits.”
Clint-
I think Bruce and Betty are going to get married. You’d think she was a blast. She’s quiet, but she’s got a hell of a sense of humor. Bruce is so happy around her, it’s almost ridiculous.
I think you’re only supposed to write in these things once a day. Whatever. It isn’t like anyone’s reading it.
-Darcy
“Is there anything I can help you with?” Betty asked.
Bruce bustled around the kitchen, checking casseroles, testing temperatures, dicing vegetables. When it came to holidays, Bruce was the master chef of the house. His Thanksgiving dinners were legendary, and Christmas Eve dinners were not far behind. The man took his sweet potatoes seriously. Unlike most perfectionists, Bruce welcomed help in the kitchen, especially when ‘help’ came in the form of Betty Ross. To an outside observer, it would have appeared that Bruce and Betty had been cooking together for years. Though every bit of space in the kitchen was being used, they were never in each other’s way. They kept up a stream of conversation that they both seemed to actually enjoy, though it consisted mostly of everyday topics. In all honesty, that was why Bruce liked Betty so much. She was normal.
Bruce loved his friends, and he loved his life, but he was the first to admit it was by no means traditional. Betty was the closest to normal Bruce had ever been, and he found that strangely attracting. Plus, she was smart and she liked it when Bruce told her about the experiments he and Tony cooked up. He liked listening to her tell him about the flower shop and the book she was writing in her spare time. He loved that behind her quiet exterior, she had a sharp mind and a quick wit. Sometime during the late morning, Tony had wandered into the kitchen and was cracking jokes. Everyone was shocked when Betty shot back responses that rendered Tony speechless.
“That’s quite a feat, Betty,” Bruce had teased. “I’ve only ever seen a handful of people do that, and I think all of them are in this house.”
Clint-
Your Christmas present is in my closet. I wrapped it the day I bought it. I don’t know what to do with it. I can’t exactly leave it at your grave. Natasha said you'd wanted to be cremated. Something about zombies and ghosts.
-Darcy
“I got this, Natasha!” Bucky assured her for the fourth time. “I’ve hung out with almost all of them before, and they seemed to like me.”
Natasha waved him away. “Yeah, well, they didn’t know we were having sex then.”
“Okay, valid point. Did you warn Thor?” Bucky asked.
She shot him a look.“Why would I have warned him? To give him more time to decide which weapon to use to chop your balls off?”
Bucky held out a rather large package wrapped in red paper. “In case they kill me, open your present now.”
She rolled her eyes. “They probably won’t kill you, Bucky. It’s fine, let’s go in.”
He blocked her way. “Open it. Please?”
She huffed before tearing the paper off and opening the box. She looked into the box and laughed. Inside was a mish mash of objects and trinkets. Natasha pulled out a bottle of Russian vodka, a pair of cheesy sickle and hammer earrings, and a black ushanka.
“For my favorite Russian,” Bucky explained.
Next was a brand new apron with her name on the front and a pretty cushion that looked like it would fit perfectly on the stool behind the counter.
“For my favorite baker,” Bucky continued.
Natasha laughed, brushing a kiss across his cheek. “I love it all. Thank you, Bucky.”
“Merry Christmas, babe,” he murmured. “Hey, uh, have you talked to Clint lately?”
She nodded. “Last night. Why?”
Bucky shrugged. “I passed Darcy and Peter on my way here. She still looks like she’s having a rough time.”
“She is. But she’s got us, and hopefully that’ll get her through until he gets back,” Natasha sighed.
“How’s Peter taking it?” he asked.
Natasha started packing up her present, leaving the earrings out. “It hasn’t been easy for him, but he’s pretty much back to normal. I think he knows that we know something they don’t, and I think that’s giving him hope that Clint isn’t gone for good. It’s a good thing he has Wade. He’s good for him.”
“Plus they make a cute couple,” Bucky winked.
Natasha chuckled. “That they do. Now hold my present while I put on your cheesy earrings.”
Clint-
Peter and I walked down to the bakery a couple of hours ago because Steve said I needed some fresh air. That house still has the boat in the driveway. Apparently, it’s for sale. I bet you were great at boats.
-Darcy
“For the last time, Thor, no!” Loki refused.
Thor pulled a pleading face. “Please, Loki? Think of the children.”
Loki narrowed his eyes. “I am not dressing like an elf.”
“You could be Rudolph,” Thor offered. “I even have the antlers.”
Loki hesitated a moment before sighing. “For the children. If I even think I see a camera go off, so help me, I will make you rue the day you were born.”
Thor clapped his hands excitedly. “Yes! The celebrations will be complete if I can only find an elf.”
Loki resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Where, oh where, in this house full of people will you ever find someone?”
“I am not sure,” Thor said. “But I think we should check the living room.”
The inward sigh Loki gave was drowned out by Thor’s footsteps on the stairs. He followed his brother down into the living room, taking a moment to admire the Christmas tree. Even he had to admit it was very beautiful. His family didn’t celebrate with Christmas trees, or many of the traditional icons of Christmas, so it was a bit new to him. Almost like a childhood dream unfolding before his very eyes. They stepped into the room, Thor searching excitedly for someone to rope into wearing bells on their feet. The only one in the room was Darcy, curled up next to the fire with a notebook in her hand. Thor’s shoulders drooped for a moment and he glanced back at Loki, his eyebrow raised as if asking for permission. Loki gestured for him to try it and Thor turned back to the girl.
“Hello, Miss Darcy! Happy Christmas Eve!” Thor’s voice boomed.
She looked up from her notebook, startled. “Happy Christmas Eve, Thor. How’s it going?”
“Oh, quite well! Except, I am in need of an elf,” Thor explained. “Do you know of anyone in this house willing to don a costume for a few hours and hand out candy with Santa and Rudolph?”
Darcy smiled. “I would be honored to be your elf. I didn’t know you volunteered to play Santa at the rec center this year.”
Thor nodded. “I have been practicing my ‘ho ho ho’ and I think it’s coming along nicely.”
Darcy tipped her head in Loki’s direction. “Rudolph?”
“Bell slippers are beneath me,” he replied.
Darcy laughed. “Fair enough. Hand ‘em over Santa.”
Clint-
You never took me to the range.
-Darcy
“I can’t believe you’ve never read The Night Before Christmas!” Wade exclaimed. “What are you, a communist?”
“Watch it,” Natasha warned, flinging a napkin in his direction.
Tony shrugged. “I was busy reading other things. Like textbooks. You know, those things you learn from?”
“Rings a bell,” Wade nodded. “I’ve heard of them once or twice. At least tell me you’ve seen White Christmas.”
Bucky laughed. “That’s a little girly for your taste, isn’t it Wade?”
“It is a classic, and it is fucking beautiful,” Wade defended himself. “Don’t mess with my Bing Crosby, man.”
“I have to say I agree with Wade on this one,” Steve added.
Betty raised her hand. “Me, too. It’s my favorite Christmas movie of all time.”
“When I was younger I would beg my parents to let me watch Ironiya Sud'bi over and over again,” Natasha said. “I think I can quote the majority of that movie from beginning to end.”
Bucky’s face lit up. “Oh my god. Let’s play the Christmas quote game!”
Clint-
Nine people die in blizzards in the United States every year.
-Darcy
“If you yell Yahtzee one more time, I will come across this table,” Natasha threatened.
Bucky nodded shamefully and tossed a couple of chips into the pot. Tony laid down the next round of cards and Steve added a chip to the pile. Thor called him and everyone showed their hands in turn. Bucky dropped his cards last and did a victory shimmy in his seat.
“Monopoly, motherfuckers!” he sang, gathering up all the chips from the pot.
“I’m calling it a night before I kill him,” Natasha decided. “Enjoy the couch.”
“Where’s your Christmas spirit?” Bucky teased.
“Ask Yahtzee,” Natasha said over her shoulder, starting up the stairs.
She passed Peter’s room and caught a glimpse of him sprawled across Wade’s chest, both of them snoring loudly. She stifled a laugh and pulled the door shut. She hesitated outside of Darcy’s room, the door opened a crack. She decided to risk it and knocked lightly.
Darcy looked up from the phone she cradled in her lap. “Hey, Natasha. Headed to bed?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Bucky wiped me out a poker.”
“He seemed to be kicking ass when I bowed out,” Darcy laughed.
Natasha crossed her arms and leaned against the doorjamb. “How’re you holding up?”
Darcy looked away. “I’m fine. I’m going to be an elf tomorrow, actually. Should be fun.”
“Is Loki really going to be Rudolph?” Natasha asked skeptically.
Darcy shrugged. “I kind of doubt it, but that’s what he told Thor.”
Natasha grinned. “I can’t wait to see that.”
Clint-
The last thing I ever said to you was a lie. Your present was the best.
-Darcy
Christmas morning wasn’t supposed to be lonely. He’d spent more than one on his own from the time he and his brother had left for the circus. He’d spent Christmases alone in foreign countries, cooped up in hospital beds, and hiding out in crappy shacks that leaked from the rain. He’d never felt lonely on Christmas before. Maybe it was because he didn’t have much to miss, or maybe he just always made the best of the situation. But looking down at his phone, the newest message glaringly bright in the darkness, Clint felt lonelier than he’d ever felt.
He sighed at the bright screen.
Merry Christmas. I miss you. -D
“Merry fucking Christmas,” he muttered.
Clint-
Don’t leave me. Please.
-Darcy