coming second | darcy/bucky, jealousy
“Is that…” Steve swallowed, wild-eyed and desperate, and she felt like she was being frozen in ice as he stepped forward, his gaze fixed upon the man at her side. “Is that really you?”
James stared. “Stevie?”
It was that look in his eyes, a mix of shock and heartache and longing that Steve reciprocated with a wretched-sounding “Bucky.” It had her heart sinking in her chest, and she felt herself losing him by the second, James drawing away from her as his world refocused on SteveSteveSteve.
James’s hand fell away from hers as he stepped forward, two steps, then three. It felt like her heart was literally breaking as they stopped in front of each other, hovering and hesitant, before Steve pulled James into a bone-crushing hug. James buried his face in Steve’s neck, hands clenching the back of Steve’s brown leather jacket in a vice, and something in Darcy broke when she saw the tears running down Steve’s cheeks.
The thing was, she couldn’t be angry. Jealous, envious – yes, and yes, because she was there first. She was the one who brought James out from the street, feeding him and giving him clothes and watching as he emerged more and more from out of his shell. She was the one who held him through all the nightmares and the day terrors, waiting for him to come back to the present. She was the one who fell in love with him, and maybe that’s why she never said a word to anyone about who exactly she’d taken into her home.
And really, it’s because she knew. She knew exactly how it felt to be passed over for someone else, for someone better. It was the story of her childhood – “why can’t you be like your sister,” or “why can’t you be like so-and-so’s daughter,” or “I like you but I like your best friend better.” She knew, and in a sense she was used to it – and if she was being honest, between her and Captain America? There was no point in trying.
Still. Just because she was used to coming second, it didn’t mean that it hurt any less.
She wanted to run, wanted to turn on her heels and walk away, leaving them there to move on – but something in her heart made her stay. She was a lot of things – she talked too much and laughed too loud, and some even said she tried too hard – but she wasn’t a coward.
“Buck…” Steve pulled back, his hands resting on James’s shoulders. “… You remember me?”
“… Your mom’s name was Sarah,” he whispered, and Steve’s expression shone. “You used to wear newspapers in your shoes…”
Darcy swallowed, looking down at her hands, as Steve laughed. The sound was free and bright, and Steve glowed in happiness as he looked over James with a wondrous expression. “How… When?”
“It was all… Doll?” Startled, Darcy looked up, and saw Steve’s expression slide from that heart-stopping, beaming smile into something confused. James didn’t seem to notice, his gaze soft and warm as he held out his hand.
Shuffling forward, Darcy didn’t miss the minute frown that crossed Steve’s features when James pulled her in, settling her into his side and draping his arm – his metal arm – over her shoulders possessively.
“It was all Darcy,” James said, leaning down to kiss Darcy on the temple, and that heavy weight in her heart lifted as she realized what he’d done.
He wanted her, still.
And Steve, who watched her and James, looked like someone had slapped him in the face.