Chapter Text
Darcy's eyes blurred with tears and her her throat burned as bile forced itself up. Gathering her hair in one hand, she violently threw up, the sound of the vomit hitting the porcelain making her feel even more nauseous.
Jane had tried to hold her hair back for her, but at the first touch of her fingertips, Darcy had flinched away. It hurt her, to see her best friend regress back into old fears, but the grief had ruined her.
In the space of a week, she had lost weight. Her skin hung on her bones like a loose dress and shadows were heavy beneath her eyes, the darkness matching the empty look in her eyes. Her hair hung in limp, greasy strands around her face and only emphasized her oily complexion. All of her movements were slow, as if she was caught in a pool of treacle. It pulled at her bones and froze her muscles.
Jane clutched at a glass of water and thrust it towards Darcy. "Drink." She demanded, her feelings betrayed by a tremble in her voice. Darcy looked at her, no recognition sparking in her eyes. She stumbled past her and collapsed back into her bed.
Once the robot had attacked, the avengers quickly bested the abomination before destroying it. That wasn't the end though. It's consciousness had managed to escape through the internet, transferring all of the data that made it into a secure location within the blink of the eye. The tower was deemed 'unsafe' without Jarvis to secure the area, so the Avengers had quickly deposited Darcy and Jane in one of the many Stark mansions around the country. This one was a reformed military base, complete with bunkers and enough weapons to get them through a war.
The remains of the robot were destroyed, removing the dreaded thing from this world forever. The physical version of it was so easy to destroy, but the evidence of it's existence was everlasting.
It showed in the glass of whiskey in Tony's hand.
The single grey hair that contrasted with the fiery ginger ones of Pepper's head.
The fresh scars that crisscrossed Darcy's inner wrists.
The extra muscle in Steve's biceps as he spent night after night destroying punching bags.
The downturn in Thor's mouth, as he gazed upon his comrades.
The bruises shaped like hand prints that adorned Natasha and Clint's body.
The sag in Bruce's shoulders as he watched his lovers destroy each other.
The exhaustion that dragged at all of their bones as they worked tirelessly.
The bloody chip that lay in a glass next to her bed, from when Darcy clawed it out.
It was easy to destroy something physical, but absence never went away.
*****
"No."
"Stark."
"Fuck off cap." He said shortly, glaring at Steve before striding away. He sighed and Natasha appeared at his elbow. He carefully didn't stare at the angry bruise that marred the delicate skin of her cheek.
"You can understand where he's coming from Steve." She said softly, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.
He sighed again. "I know, but he can't deny that we need them." She lifted one shoulder in a half shrug, managing to make even that look impossibly elegant.
"We do need the twins." She nodded, "But to Tony, they will always be the people that aided Jarvis' killer. That will never change."
His mouth hardened into a thin, hard line. "They could also help us stop Jarvis' killer." He turned to her, shoulders straight and his form dwarfing Natasha's petite frame. "Darcy would want this. She'd want Ultron stopped."
Natasha looked up at him, meeting his eyes in challenge. He didn't back down. "I think Darcy is too grieved to want anything but Jarvis back."
He nodded. "But we can't do that. What we can do is stop his killer." A familiar hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her flush against a hardened chest.
"And we will do that." Clint said, pressing a kiss against Natasha's neck. Steve didn't say anything about the bruise that had turned his eye bloodshot. "But we need as much help as we can get. Tony may not like it, but it's what we have to do."
Steve nodded before striding away. "We land in Sokovia tomorrow morning." He called over his shoulder. "Be ready for the battle of your lives."
She waited until Steve was out of earshot before sending Clint a grim smirk. "Probably won't be as fun as Budapest though."
He chuckled as he slowly turned her around to press their chests together. "The only thing that would have made that better would be if we had met Bruce there."
Natasha nodded into his chest. "But we have him now. That's enough."
"More than enough." And he pulled her after him to find their soulmate.
*****
Darcy had taken to wandering the halls of the old mansion at night, trailing through the underground base. Nightmares plagued her sleep and made it impossible to shut her eyes. So she walked.
It made things easy for awhile, just to walk through the fully equipped place and think about nothing.
Then she remembered.
The panic attacks had stopped after the first three days, once she remembered her breathing techniques. The tears had stopped too. She didn't think she'd ever cried so much in her life. The tears were continuous for the first two days, a natural part of her face, almost like her glasses.
Then, one night, they stopped. Her eyes had remained stubbornly dry since then, and she didn't think she would ever cry again.
Nothing else could hurt as much as this.
Darcy had lain down and when sleep had failed to wrap her in it's clutches she started walking. This was how she ended up in the hospital wing below the mansion at three in the morning. She had stumbled across it on her second night of not sleeping and now made it a nightly stop.
It was fully equipped with medical equipment, machines and medicines. The first time she saw the endless shelves of medicine she had been tempted, oh so tempted.
She knew exactly how much of each pill she had to take before it was too late. A few swallows and everything would be gone. Poof. Goodbye Jane. Goodbye Tony, Pepper, Avengers and co. Goodbye world. Goodbye feelings. Amazing, awesome, terrible, agonizing, miserable feelings.
No more feelings, no more of the sickly sensation of someone's hands on her skin. No more of the drowning sensation that sometimes hit her like a hurricane.
No more.
All gone.
She wouldn't have to feel anymore.
But Jarvis wouldn't like that. He'd be very unhappy with her, and how she hated making him unhappy. Look at how well it worked out for Justin Hammer when he made Jarvis unhappy. No, that simply wouldn't do.
So she stopped herself from reaching out and picking up those small boxes and tiny orange containers. She didn't even read the labels, just stayed firmly turned away from them. She didn't want to make Jarvis mad.
She was distracted from her thoughts by sudden shouts and the squeak of wheels rolling over wood. A gurney crashed through the doors at the other end of the room, surrounded by a sea of white coats and medical jargon.
Darcy looked over curiously, interested by the shock of white hair clearly visible at the end of the pale flesh stabbed with various needles and wires.
A girl trailed after them, blood dripping from her chin where she had bitten her lip raw with worry. Her dark hair tumbled down in waves, tangled around bits of rock and twigs. Bags hung under her eyes and worry pulled at her expression. A nurse hurriedly reassured her that everything was fine, and yes, he is unconscious but he will wake up soon.
She met Darcy's eyes and something inside her snapped.
"Wanda Maximoff." She sneered.
The girl looked up at her in confusion, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. "Yes?" She said, accent thick with puzzlement and worry.
That was all the confirmation Darcy needed, and she lunged. She had no qualms about fighting dirty, and grabbed the girl by her hair, dragging her to the floor. She was too slow to react and Darcy was straddling her, keeping her pinned with an iron grip on her arms.
"What are you doing?" Maximoff cried, struggling beneath her. The nurse called for help, but Darcy ignored her, raising her fist and slamming it into her face. Blood gushed as her nose crumpled upon impact.
"You sick bitch." She snarled, before repeating the gesture, this time hitting the helpless girl in the eye. She bucked and writhed beneath Darcy, searching for escape. But there was none, the brunette had her completely pinned and her eyes gleamed with cruelty and misery.
"You're hurting me! What are you doing?" The girl screamed, defenseless from the vicious blows. Darcy let out a maniacal laugh before leaning in close, noses brushing each others.
"I'm hurting you?" She asked, voice gravely from lack of proper hydration. "You fucking destroyed me." She growled, grabbing Wanda's hair. She raised her head and slammed it against the concrete. She was about to do it again when strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her off. She struggled, kicking and flailing, wanting - no, needing - to hurt Wanda.
To destroy her like she destroyed Darcy.
"Stop! Darcy stop!" Steve's voice sounded in her ear. She ignored it, instead wriggling out of his hold and darting back to Wanda. She landed one hit before Steve snatched her back up again. This time Bucky grabbed her ankles, and together they manhandled her out of the room.
"Darcy?" A familiar voice asked her.
She collapsed to her knees.
******
Her skin shone with a layer of oil and grease, and her hair hung limply around her shoulders, in dire need of a wash. Her nails were bitten to the quick and the skin around her fingertips gnawed at. Her clothes stank of sweat and hung loosely on her frame, too big. Her complexion was far too pale and fresh scars adorned her inner wrists. Heavy bags hung beneath her eyes. Her entire body screamed of starvation and lack of nutrition.
She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, blood dripping from her knuckles and sagging on her knees.
"Darcy?" He repeated, the word sounding right on his lips.
Her eyes shone with unshed tears.
"Jarvis?" His name sounded perfect coming from her mouth.
He nodded, a little hesitant of her rejecting his new body. She rose to her feet, fists clenched and face crumpled as she held back tears.
Then her warm arms enfolded him in a hug and he'd never felt so right in his life.
It didn't feel like what he had expected. It felt better.
It felt like home.
*****
"You're here." She whispered into his chest. "You're finally here."
"I'm never leaving you again." He said earnestly.
Darcy smiled, fully intending to hold him to that promise.
For the first time, Jarvis held her.
And It felt absolutely perfect.