Bygone

They put down in a dusty airfield in France.

Darcy ends up standing on the worn tarmac, watching the clouds overhead. The others clear the area and get the plane hidden away inside the rusted hangar.

There’s a sudden rumble of thunder, and then lightning strikes across the sky as the other airplane becomes visible through the clouds.

The air takes on a scent that Darcy knows. Burnt ozone. Electricity. The tiny hairs on her arms and back of her neck stand on end. She feels the echo of a long ago thrill, excitement, happiness, wonder.

She’d once stood in the desert and watched Thor come in. In the middle of the storm in the empty expanse of the flats, kept safe by her friend. She turns, looking for Jane.

They are the only two left standing in the middle of the tarmac. They are also the only two left untouched by the downpour Darcy only notices now. Jane is jogging closer, and when she reaches Darcy she holds out a hand.

Darcy takes it, and Jane weaves their fingers together and squeezes tight. Together they watch the plane descend. It’s much bigger than their own plane, and it moves strangely. Darcy can’t bring herself to focus enough to make any guesses about propulsion or speed.

She does notice that it’s unaffected by the lightning dancing over it. Handy.

Thor’s cape snaps in the wind, vibrant in the gray of the storm. He looks every bit a god, striding across the tarmac, something about him promising vengeance. But when he reaches Darcy, everything about him is gentle.

At first Thor is cautious, and he only holds out his hand for hers. It’s like with Jane, Darcy almost expects her hand to go right through his. But he’s solid, warm, and his hand curls around hers.

Darcy ends up hugging him, surrounded by his familiar and so very missed bulk.

“Little lightning sister. You have been wronged.” Thor says. “As I searched the realms for you, I hoped you were still alive for us to find. And I knew that if you were, you would be fighting and living with your whole heart. As always, my faith in you was not misplaced.”

Darcy just holds him tighter. Jane joins them, and a part of Darcy aches for simpler times inside the research van. Introducing Thor to YouTube, cool desert nights, and the three of them bumbling along.

When she pulls away, she’s introduced to Vision. He’s tall, red, and he watches her carefully while he speaks with Jarvis’ voice. Darcy finds that if she looks away while he’s speaking, it only increases the feeling that this is all a dream.

He volunteers to search for a vehicle for them, and phases through the roof of the hangar.

They scatter inside the hangar, after the hours they’ve spent in tight quarters. Darcy climbs into the bed of a rusted work truck that likely hasn’t moved in decades. There’s a piece of paper in one corner, with black ink, but when she tries to pick it up it falls apart.

Someone has shrink-wrapped sandwiches. Lewis had told Darcy that Polly always has food in her bag, so it was probably her. Darcy only knows that Thor shows up to join her in the bed of the truck with two subs.

She’d once taken shelter from a storm on a small airfield in France with Gabe and Falsworth. They’d played gin to distract Gabe, who was close to pulling his hair out with worry since they’d gotten word that Grace had gone into labor early.

Darcy is trying to remember enough about that place to decide if it’s likely this is the same place. But it had been dark, and they’d wrapped Falsworth’s shirt around the flashlight to dim its light so they didn’t give their position away.

It’s not likely. But she’s here with two of Gabe’s grandkids.

A heavy arm wraps around her shoulder, and Thor pulls her closer to lean against him. “Be at ease, sister. You have many that would fight in your stead so that you may rest after your long trials. And I learned the hard way that there is no shame in that.”

“I feel like the only thing I know how to do is fight now.” Darcy confesses. She might not know how to stop anymore, she’s been pushing herself to keep going so long.

“I know.” Thor takes her sandwich and cuts it into thirds with a flimsy plastic knife that bends precariously. He leaves only one-third on her plate, which suddenly looks much more appetizing and manageable. She’s being wrangled. She’d taught him these tricks. “I have seen the look in your eyes in my mirror. I have yearned for another battle, someone to fight, a purpose that is both defined and morally obvious to me.”

That sounds about right. And sitting here with Jane and Thor, it makes her feel like a stranger.

“Place your trust in your friends.” Thor advises softly. “In myself and Jane. When you are lost, the people your heart has chosen will keep you on your path.”

“And in sandwiches.” Darcy deflects.

Thor only smiles. “Aye. You have only to ask, and it shall be yours. Should you desire it, I would take you to Asgard to recover in peace.”

His smile dims, and he looks around the dim hangar. “Midgard prepares poorly for a battle the magnitude of which they cannot begin to imagine.”

“And I’ll be here, doing what I can.” Darcy holds out her plate for another third of her sandwich.

“You have changed.” Thor leans back on his elbows, looking for all the world to be completely at ease. “But not in the ways that you are afraid of.”

A short while later, Maggie holds up a hand and all conversation stops. Darcy listens carefully, and she does hear something outside the hangar. But it could just as easily be the breeze, or a bird.

Jane stands next to Sif, and Darcy spots a gold handled knife in her hand. Jane’s fingers twirl it once, in a smooth, practiced motion. Future queen of Asgard, Darcy reminds herself, pressing the metallic stone in her ring so that the taser is ready to go.

Meg moves over to one wall, where the rusted metal has buckled leaving a small crack.

“Well. What do you know.” Meg slams her back against the wall and smiles sourly. “It’s the CIA.”

“Or Hydra dressed as them.” Sharon counters, gun unholstered and ready at her side.

Vision comes up through the floor, everyone other than Thor jumps in surprise.

“There are men approaching from the north with guns.” He looks around. “But it appears you are already aware.”

“We’ll have to distract them. Without killing them.” Maggie tempers, shooting a look at her team. “And Sharon can’t help, she might need her contacts later.”

“Or want her job back.” Sharon adds, ignoring Meg’s snort.

“Alright, Tim, Sharon, with Rogers. The rest of you, distract and disarm.”

Vision leads them down a rocky hill, Darcy scrambling to keep up as her side throbs. Thor plucks her up with one arm, hunching over her as they hurry to get out of sight. Vision flies backwards, watching their backs.

Tim grins at an explosion. “Subtle, Polly.”

They pile into a brown delivery truck labeled Gauthier Transportuer that’s parked just around a curve in the road, Vision starting it by reaching straight into the ignition.