Hoard

“Fuck,” Darcy mutters, realizing she hadn’t severed the mental connection she’d established earlier.

“Darcy?” Steve’s voice sounds panicked.

“Fuck.” She bounds down the stairs. “Coming, angelo.”

Steve is sitting up on the couch, wide-eyed, with Bucky kneeling in front of him.

Bucky looks up and shakes his head. “He’s not calming down.”

Darcy vaults over the back of the couch and cups his face in her hands. “Hey, I’m right here. We’re both right here.”

Steve’s breathing slows and his expression smooths over. “What - why - I… Did you do a full shift in the middle of New York?”

Darcy grimaces. “I might’ve.”

“And… were you talking in my head?”

“Yeah.”

“You… I was on the edge. I was over the edge. But I heard you. I’ve never been able to hear anyone but Bucky before.”

“I think you’ve got some explaining to do, doll,” Bucky says softly.

Darcy doesn’t look either of them in the eyes, slowly running her hands over Steve, checking for injuries.

Steve catches her hands. “I’m not hurt, sweetheart. Just real damn confused.”

Darcy pulls her hands back to wring them in her lap. “I wasn’t ever going to say anything… you guys were never supposed to know.”

Steve reaches over and rests a hand over hers. “Know what, sweetheart?”

Skype ringing on from the computer desk in the corner saves her from answering. She nearly sprints to the computer, and almost cries when she sees her brother’s name. She answers with a wobbly smile. “Jake.”

Jake frowns back at her. “Darcy. Wanna tell me why I’m scrubbing CCTV footage of a dragon in the middle of fucking New York City?”

Darcy winces. “Did you get it all?”

“Duh. And Captain Fucking America  lighting up like a damn Glo Worm and the Winter Soldier turning into the shadow man. I got all of it and if anyone else had a copy of you or your boyfriends less than human moments, their hardware is going to be melted to putty.”

Darcy crops into the computer chair, relief seeping into every inch of her being. “You’re the best, little brother. And they aren’t my boyfriends.”

“We’re not?” Bucky asks at the same time Jake scoffs, “No, they’re a fuckton more than than that.”

Darcy groans and buries her face in her hands.

Jake balks. “They’re there?! Darcy, why the fuck didn’t you say?!”

She parts her fingers enough to glare at her brother through them. “I’m telling Cougar.”

“Darcy!”

“Fair’s fair. I am telling Cougar.”

Cougar appears out of the shadows in the background. “Telling me what?”

Jake leaps out of his seat. “Fuck! Cougs… give me a heart attack, why don’t you? Get you a fucking bell…”

Cougar ignores Jake and raises a brow at Darcy, silent question on his face.

Darcy smirks.

Jake whines. “Darce, don’t you fucking dare…”

She feels someone come up behind her, then a hand on her shoulder. She reaches up and grabs it, identifying Bucky by the callouses.

“You tell, I tell,” Jake threatens.

“You already might as well have fucking outed me, asshole.” Darcy shifts her gaze back to Cougar and her eyes go wide. “Cougs, let me see that cuff. The one on your left wrist with the red stone.”

Cougar raises an eyebrow, but holds his wrist up to the camera.

She sighs. “He already fucking told you, didn’t he?”

Cougar pulls his wrist back and nods.

She glares at her brother. “I fucking hate you.”

In the reflection on the computer screen, she sees Steve come up behind Bucky, wrapping an arm around the other man’s waist and resting his free hand on Darcy’s other shoulder. “Darce?”

Darcy sighs. “Steve, Bucky, this asshole is my baby brother Jake. Jake, Steve and Bucky.”

Steve nods. “Nice to meet you.”

Jake’s eyes narrow. “Those rings… oh, Darce... Sis, you’ve gotta tell ‘em.” 

Darcy feels both men take their hands off her shoulders, looking at the rings on their fingers, and closes her eyes so she doesn’t have to see their expressions. “I know.”

After the team’s Christmas dinner, Bucky and Steve trail after her like puppies. Bucky flops onto her couch, pulling her down with him. “No presents for us, doll?”

Darcy bites her lip and won’t meet his eyes.

Steve sits on the coffee table in front of them and takes her hand. “Hey, he’s just teasing sweetheart. We don’t need anything.”

Darcy huffs something like a laugh. “I just… I didn’t want to give them to you in front of everyone else.”

Bucky grins. “Just us now, doll.”

Darcy rolls her eyes and gets up, going to her room for the two small boxes stashed in the back of her sock drawer. She takes a deep breath and forces a casual expression as she walks back into the living room and tosses the wrapped boxes - gold for Steve and silver for Bucky - to the men.

Darcy waves her hands impatiently, trying to hide her nerves. “Well, open them!”

They rip into the paper like little kids, expressions turning serious as they pop open the boxes under the paper.

Darcy bites her lip and speaks quietly. “I noticed you guys didn’t wear rings. I figured it was probably because last time you guys were awake, it wasn’t really… acceptable. I thought… if you don’t want them it’s okay. I won’t take offense or anything. I know it’s really personal.”

Steve pulls his ring out of the box and examines it carefully. Bucky does the same. The rings are identical - bright red interior - forged from her own scales, the exterior twined vibranium and gold pounded smooth. 

Steve has tears in his eyes when he looks up at her. “They’re perfect, sweetheart.”

She clears her throat. “Bucky, yours is sized for your right hand, but if you want it on your left, Tony volunteered to integrate it into your prosthetic.”

Bucky shakes his head, eyes still on his ring. “N-no. Right’s fine. I wanna be able to feel that I’m wearin’ it.”

They both slide the rings into place on their hands, and a few more pieces of Darcy’s soul seem knit themselves into place. She doesn’t mention the matching ring on a chain around her neck.

Jake shoots her one last pitying look before he disconnects.

Darcy lets her head thud onto the desk. “Does it count as murder if the person you murder doesn’t actually exist?”

Steve chuckles. “You don’t actually wanna kill your brother, sweetheart. You’d miss him.”

Darcy grumbles unintelligibly.

Gentle hands pull her shoulders back and spin her around.

She glances up at them through her hair.

Bucky brushes her hair away from her eyes. “Doll…” He trails off, shakes his head, and picks her up.

She squeaks in protest, but throws her arms around his neck instinctively. He settles on the couch, settling her in his lap and tossing her legs over Steve’s lap as he settles next to them.

Steve wraps his hands around her calves, kneading gently. “Talk to us, sweetheart. We know you’ve been keepin’ something from us, but we were tryin’ to give you time to tell us on your own.”

“But it’s hurtin’ you, doll. And that hurts us.”

“I’m sorry,” Darcy mutters to her lap, tears falling down her face. “I’m so sorry.”

“We’ve got an idea, sweetheart,” Steve chucks her chin up gently, “but we need you to tell us.”

“You have an idea, huh?” She mumbles miserably.

“Tony left a book out in the common room,” Bucky tells her.

Darcy curses.

Tony groans. “Okay, I need words here… I’m pretty sure those two would literally kill themselves rather than knowingly hurt you, so what’s the deal?”

“Your research… anything about Mates in there?”

Both Tony’s brows raise to his hairline. “Some.” He scratches his head. “Wait… there was one… very old, super obscure text. I haven’t finished translating it yet, but there was something about denying a Mate… oh, Darcy.”

Bucky squeezes her shoulders. “I don’t think he realized anyone would be able to read it. The language it’s written in died a long time ago.”

“But not long enough ago that I couldn’t read it,” Steve adds gently.

“Are we your Mates, sweetheart?”

Darcy closes her eyes, fighting the tears. “I was never going to tell you guys.”

“Do you not want us?”

Darcy’s eyes snap open. “That is not the issue.”

Bucky chuckles. “Okay, then what is?”

She takes a deep breath. “Both of you… your choice has been taken from you on so many things for so long. I wasn't going to be one of those things.”

Bucky squeezes her tightly and buries his face in the nape of her neck. “Oh, doll.”

Steve scoots closer and rests a hand over her waist. “Sweetheart, oh, Darce… how could you think we wouldn't want you?"

"In case you didn't notice, we've been courtin' you basically since day one," Bucky rumbles against her skin. 

"Because we wanted to, Darce," Steve clarifies before she can argue. "Because we want you."

Darcy shakes her head. "But-"

"But nothing, doll," Bucky cuts her off. "Dragons may have Mates, but Wraiths don't."

"Talos don't," Steve adds.

"We want you because we want you," Bucky says.

"Not because of some biological urge," Steve says, reminding her off the first time they spoke.

"Unless lust counts,” Bucky grins briefly.

Steve leans forward enough to smack him upside the back of his head.

Bucky sobers again. “We didn't push because we weren't sure if you wanted us beyond the biological urge of the Mate bond."

Darcy laughs wetly. "Have you met yourselves? You're kinda perfect. The Mate bond… it's not just Fate trying to fuck with Dragons. It's based on compatibility. Literally the perfect complement, or complements."

Bucky finally pulls his face out of her neck. "We thought you were just takin’ your time, not that you thought we were just friends.”

“If friends is all you want, sweetheart, tell us now, so we can at least pretend we don’t wanna peel you out of that sweater.”

Darcy snorts out a watery laugh. “I still wanna hear you make a comment like that in front of Tony.”

Steve smiles and shakes his head. “Tell us you’re ours, Darce, and I’ll say absolutely anything you want in front of anyone you want.”

Darcy laughs again, and this time she can’t stop, hysteria setting in. Bucky holds her close until both her laughter and her tears run their course, rubbing her back gently.

“I’m yours,” she tells them quietly. “I have been since the moment I watched you walk into the Tower.”