Family, A Tasertricks Fan Fiction, Chapter 12

Title: Family
Universe: Marvel Cinematic Universe, post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Genre: Romance/humor/drama/friendship/family
Pairings: Darcy/Loki, Thor/Jane
Rating: T
Summary: When an assassination attempt outs Loki as Odin's usurper, the Allfather decides not to waste his time harboring a wanted fugitive and simply banishes his rebellious Jotun son from Asgard. And Darcy Lewis just wanted breakfast, not for the psychopath who tried to take over Earth to come seeking refuge at the last place imaginable. Post-CA: TWS. Tasertricks!

Chapter 12

Lying in the post-coital mess of tangled, sweaty sheets on Ian's bed, Ian's arms wrapped tightly around her, Darcy stared up at the ceiling, eyebrows furrowed and a scowl on her face. With her lust now satisfied and the adrenaline and shock from the encounter with the Dark Elves worn off entirely, she found that all her raging emotions had ultimately boiled down to one: anger. She had just finished telling Ian what had happened with Loki the previous day and earlier this afternoon (conveniently leaving out the small detail that she had, for a moment, wanted to do him), which, in combination with the fact that her whole back had not long ago started killing her, no doubt thanks to her having been thrown against a giant ventilation shaft, had managed to make her even angrier.

Ian, having listened to Darcy's account in round-eyed silence, now pulled her to him even more tightly. “I've told you before, and I'll say it again, Darce:” he said fearfully, “You're not safe there. Living with Thor and Loki under the same roof is like . . . being a magnet for all this crazy, dangerous stuff. I mean, Dark Elves?”

Darcy winced at the added pressure on her back and then wiggled out of Ian's embrace altogether. She wasn't much of a cuddler. Being naturally very warm, she found that being in close proximity to another human being for an extended period of time usually made her feel like she was about to have a heat stroke. In fact, since she had started sleeping in the same bed as Jane, the Boss Lady had dubbed her the Human Space Heater.

“Oh, Dark Elves I can handle, no problem,” Darcy spat bitterly, crossing her arms over her abdomen. “It's Loki who's driving me up the wall. Again. Even the thing with the Elves was technically all his fault.”

At this, Ian looked confused. “How so? I thought the Elves were looking for Thor, not Loki?”

Darcy scoffed at him. “Come on, Intern. I say one little thing and he freaks out at me, then he turns into a goddamned drama queen and trespasses on the roof, forcing me to go look for him, and then we run into the fucking Elves. Then he tells me he's my king and that I'm kneeling at his feet and . . . .” She broke off, trembling with fury. “If we weren't up on that rooftop, the Elves might've never even found us. Oh, no, wait—it's even better than that: If His Princelypants hadn't been a baby from the start, I would be hanging out with fucking Iron Man right now.” She turned to Ian and added quickly, “No offense.”

“None taken,” he said honestly, a flash of jealousy in his eyes, and Darcy knew he wasn't jealous of Tony, but of her. “And yeah, I guess I see your point. But I think I know the solution.”

“Oh?” Darcy asked. “Know where I can get some colorless, tasteless poison for cheap?”

Ian blinked at her. “No . . . ?”

“Damn. So what's your solution, then?”

Ian looked away shyly. “Well—and don't freak out on me, Darce, please—I want you to move in with me, here, okay? I've already talked to my housemates about it and they said they're fine with it. I don't care, I'll pay your share of the rent and all our groceries—I can afford it, I get paid well enough at the office.”

Before Darcy could stop herself, she burst out laughing. “Holy shit, Intern, are you serious? What on Earth gave you the idea that I'm ready for a commitment like that?”

Ian turned back to her, looking disgruntled. “I dunno, Darce, the fact that I'm ready? Look at it this way: We're both done university and have full-time jobs—although I'm guessing you might wanna find a new one, after what happened with the Dark Elves—you know, the international-affairs sub-office is currently looking for an American to join their team, I can put in a good word for you—uhhh—right—then take the fact that we've been dating for almost seven months, are clearly in love, and that moving in together just seems to be the logical next step forward. I mean, if we're gonna get married someday, we'd better get used to living under the same roof, right?”

It was the response Darcy had been dreading. She had long since stopped laughing, and now swallowed heavily. “Is this what you want, truly? Is it important to you?”

Ian smiled at her rather confusedly. “Well, yes. Of course. I love you, Darcy Gabrielle Lewis. I think . . . . I think I wanna spend the rest of my life with you.” At this, Ian smiled an excited, embarrassed grin. “So, what do you say to making me the happiest bloke alive?”

But for the first time in the 22 and a half lengthy years of her life, Darcy had no idea what to say, because try as she might, she could not picture a future of domestic bliss with Ian. Even an eternity of fighting Dark Elves with a mouthy Loki at her side seemed like a far more desirable alternative. But if Ian wanted the opposite, what was she supposed to do? Say yes, move in with him, and be miserable? No, that wouldn't be fair to her. Say maybe and keep him holding on to the hope that one day she'd change her mind, when she knew full well that she wouldn't? No, because how in the hell would that be fair to Ian? Darcy felt a sinking feeling in her stomach as the third and final option became apparent. She would have to answer no and then see where the chips fall.

“Ian, I love you, too, but . . . .” she began awkwardly.

Ian's excited grin faded immediately. “'But' . . . what?”

Darcy squeezed her eyes shut, thinking of how to best word this without insulting Ian. Once she had decided what she was going to say, she took a deep breath and opened her eyes again. “It's just . . . we have such a great thing going right now, why would we wanna compromise it by moving in together?”

“But how do you know moving in together will make it worse and not better?”

“I just know,” Darcy said. “I'm sorry.”

Ian sighed, and although it was evident he was trying, he couldn't hide the disappointment in his voice when he said, “It's all right. We'll just have to wait until you're ready, that's all.”

A burning sensation settled just behind Darcy's eyes, and she couldn't blink it away. “But that's the thing, Intern . . . . I'll never be ready . . . . At least, not with you . . . .”

“What . . . . What're you saying, Darce?” Ian asked, his eyes suddenly wide, his lips parted in apprehension as he stared at her.

But even Darcy herself didn't know what she was saying. She loved Ian, of course she did, but, she realized dejectedly, she would never want to commit to him permanently. And what was the point of continuing a relationship that would never become that strong, when that was exactly what the other half wanted? It wouldn't be fair to Ian, and the guilt would eat her alive. She knew, then, what she had to do, but she also knew, with the whole of her being, that she didn't want to do it. But just when she found herself ready to give in to her doubts and to actually reconsider her not wanting to move in with Ian, she was overcome by a memory, the memory of the dream she had had last night. She had known that Derek had been in it—his face had been the only thing she had remembered, up until now—but now, she remembered the rest. She had dreamt of the worst moment of her life, when Derek had gotten down on one knee and asked her to be his wife, though, for all the sincerity in his voice, he might as well have been asking her if she wanted to do his taxes. But then, Derek's face had slowly morphed into Ian's, and shocked, Darcy had woken up.

Now, the memory of the dream helped her steel herself to do what she knew was necessary, and so, feeling her bottom lip quiver despite her newfound resolution, she looked Ian evenly in the eyes and said, “I think I'm breaking up with you.”

The look on Ian's face just about broke her heart, but she forced herself to keep holding his gaze, using every remaining ounce of her will to keep the tears threatening to spill for the second time today at bay. Don't cry, Darce. If you cry, you'll only make it worse.

“Don't do this to me, Darce, please,” Ian said, his own eyes welling with water. “We just need to give it some time. I'll wait for you. I can wait . . . .”

“I can't ask you to wait for me forever,” Darcy said, feeling her face break. Don't cry, Darce. Whatever you do, don't cry. “Not when I know I'll never feel about you the same way you feel about me.”

“Is it something I did, then? Something about who I am? Just tell me what is it, and I swear, I'll change. Whatever you want, I'll do it.”

Darcy smiled miserably, her heart breaking all over again. “Ian, you are the kindest, sweetest, most caring, most loyal guy that I have ever met. A girl would be stupid not to want to be with you. But I'm . . . I'm not like other girls. I'm kind of . . . crazy.”

Ian smiled back at her, just as miserably, two tears escaping the pools of his eyes. “I know. Why do you think I fell in love with you?”

Her lip quivering uncontrollably, Darcy realized that there was nothing more she could say that wouldn't only make things worse. So, getting out of bed, she picked up her clothes from the floor beside it and got dressed, in silence. She couldn't bear to look at Ian, not until the very end.

When she was ready to leave, she turned to Ian one final time. He was sitting up in bed, watching her. His eyes were wet.

“Goodbye, Intern,” Darcy said quietly.

“Bye, Darce,” said Ian, and his voice was strangely cold, his gaze dismissive.

Suddenly feeling sick to her stomach, Darcy ran out of the room.

She left Ian's town house feeling very numb. She didn't want to go home, because it was only early afternoon and Jane, Thor, and Erik wouldn't be home until late evening, and the last thing she wanted right now was to be alone with Loki. But she didn't have anywhere else to go, nor any of her things on her. No wallet, no bus pass, no cell phone. So she just started walking. Somewhere. Anywhere.

After an hour or so, she made it to the River Thames, just on the opposite side of the Palace of Westminster. She walked halfway across Westminster Bridge and stayed there, watching the river and boats below, the neverending traffic beside her, and the crowds of people around the great, beautiful palace in front of her. All the noise and activity was oddly relaxing.

Soon enough, however, the cold and her hunger—Darcy hadn't eaten all day—had become impossible to ignore, and Loki or no Loki, Darcy knew that she had to go home.

By the time she got back to her apartment building, she was exhausted. Physically and mentally drained. All she wanted was a warm meal, a large mug of herbal tea, and, then, a long, uninterrupted rendezvous with her pillow. But right off the bat, she was presented with a complication: Having left her keys back in the apartment, she had no way of getting inside the building.

She was about to buzz the apartment—she still didn't want to talk to Loki, but she didn't see how she had any other choice—when a middle-aged man checking his mail inside the lobby took notice of her, standing just on the other side of the glass door. He looked concerned by her appearance, and Darcy realized that she must look like a train wreck right now. But surprisingly, that actually managed to work in her favor, as the gentleman then went and kindly opened the door for her.

“You okay, dear?” he asked, as Darcy stalked past him gloomily.

“Yup,” Darcy lied, going to summon the elevator.

The gentleman didn't ask any more questions and allowed Darcy to take the elevator up in solitude, which she was grateful for. Finally reaching her apartment door, she found that it had been left unlocked, and so, with a huge wave of relief, she pushed it open and went inside.

“Darcy!” screeched a voice, when Darcy had barely taken one step inside the apartment. Jane was rushing at her, and before Darcy could even understand what was happening, she had thrown her arms around her and was squeezing the life out of her. “I was so worried!”

Darcy looked around the room in utter confusion. Both Thor and Erik were there, as well as Loki. But Jane, Thor, and Erik hadn't been supposed to return until much later tonight . . . .

“Jane, what're you guys doing back already?” Darcy wheezed, feeling like her lungs were about to collapse.

Finally, Jane let go of her. “Stark,” she said. “As soon as Loki called us and told us what happened, Stark had us flown back here by his personal jet.”

Darcy gaped at her. “You didn't tell him about the Elves, Jane?”

“Fear not, Darcy,” said Thor, stepping forward. “We made sure to provide Tony with a different reason for the need of our urgent and immediate departure.”

“Unfortunately . . .” Jane began, suddenly looking very sheepish, “. . . the best we could come up with was that you'd fallen down the stairs and broken your leg.”

“Gee, thanks,” Darcy said sarcastically.

“But it's hardly worse than what actually happened!” Jane cried out, and before Darcy could protest, she was squeezing the daylights out of her again. “Can you imagine! Dark Elves? Here?”

“Jane, it's okay,” Darcy choked. “I'm all right, really.”

But when Jane let go of her again, she didn't look convinced. “Loki told us you almost died, Darcy,” she said, and Darcy realized that there were actual tears in her eyes. “And then when he said you just walked out . . . . Where did you go?”

“Ian's,” Darcy said quickly. Where I proceeded to break his heart. Proceeded to throw away possibly the best thing that's ever happened to me.

She remembered too late that her face had always been an open book, because the next moment, Jane was asking, “Did . . . . Did something happen at Ian's?”

“He asked me to move in with him . . . .” Darcy answered.

“Oh!” Jane said, with a smile, though Darcy was able to catch the momentary shadow of disappointment on her face. “That's . . . great! And . . . . And what did you say?”

But once again, Darcy found herself unable to speak. Jane, Thor, and Erik were all watching her with bated breaths, and surprisingly, it appeared that so was Loki. Completely against her volition, her bottom lip began to tremble again.

“I broke up with him,” she spluttered suddenly, as the pain she hadn't even known she'd been harboring washed over her in an unprecedented wave of emotion. An onslaught of spontaneous tears cascaded down her cheeks, and she wiped at them angrily.

“Oh, sweetie . . . .” Jane said, and Darcy found herself being hugged for the third time in ten minutes, though much more gently this time.

And for a good thirty seconds, Darcy could do nothing more than sob uncontrollably into Jane's shoulder. She was aware that a warm hand had come to light on her arm in that time, and was now squeezing it gently, but since her eyes were shut tight against her own tears, she didn't know who, other than Jane, was comforting her.

Once she had stopped crying, however, feeling, she had to admit, immensely better, she opened her eyes to Thor's deeply sympathetic, solemn gaze.

“I am truly sorry, Lady Darcy . . .” he told her somberly, “. . . but if I am being perfectly honest—and I think that I speak for everyone here—I am also madly happy that you are not leaving us.”

“You got that right,” said Erik, who had also approached Darcy and was now smiling at her kindly.

It was exactly what Darcy had needed to hear. She grinned at Thor and Erik, and then let go of Jane and smiled around at the three of them.

“You know how much I love you guys, right?” she asked, looking blearily from Jane to Thor to Erik and continuing to smile. “I know I don't show it much, but you guys know, right?”

“Of course we do,” Jane said, while Thor and Erik nodded. “And what's this nonsense about not showing it?”

“Oh, please, Jane,” Darcy said, and her smile turned slightly guilty. “I can so be a selfish bitch sometimes, and you know it. But I'm gonna work on it.” And even before Jane could answer, Darcy had an idea. “And I'm gonna start off by giving you and Thor your bedroom back,” she said firmly.

Jane and Thor stared at her in surprise, a mixture of happiness and confusion on their faces.

“But . . .” Jane began uncertainly, “. . . where're you going to sleep?”

“I'll move into the not-living room,” Darcy said quickly, before she could change her mind.

“But that is our entertainment room!” Thor exclaimed immediately. “You love that room, Darcy!”

This was true, and Darcy knew that Thor loved it, too (not that he obviously wouldn't love sharing the master bedroom with Jane again even more), and this was exactly why Darcy had already thought of the solution.

“Don't worry, Thunder Wonder—I have it all figured out,” she said, and then turned to Jane. “You know that money we've been saving up for beds for Thor and I?”

“Of course,” Jane said. “In fact, I think we should have enough for one now. So if you're seriously willing to move into the living room, we can go get you a bed as soon as tonight. If you want.”

The corners of Jane's mouth twitched, and Darcy knew she was holding back one hell of a grin right now. And no wonder, considering that originally, back when Loki had first arrived at their apartment, transforming the not-living room into a bedroom had been Jane's idea. Darcy had just been too stubborn back then to realize it would've actually been the smartest call to make.

“That's perfect,” she said to Jane now. “Except for one small thing. I don't want a bed. Not a regular one, anyways. Get me a sofa bed or a futon instead. I'll have it folded up during the day, so Thor and I will have our entertainment room, and at night, it'll be my bedroom.”

Thor looked excited. Jane looked undeniably pleased.

“Yes, of course,” she said. “You can put anything you want in your room, Darce.”

“Are you absolutely certain of this, though, Darcy?” Thor asked.

Darcy grinned at the thunder god's slightly worried face. “A hundred percent,” she said. “Maybe now you'll start hanging out with me in the mornings again, instead of going to Jane and leaving me all alone. I miss my Thor time.”

Thor looked simultaneously guilty and flattered, and, deciding she's embarrassed him enough, Darcy continued. “And yes, I wanna go get the sofa bed or futon today, if that's okay with you guys. I think it'll help us us take our minds off everything that's happened today. But first we need to decide what to do with the five, uhhh, guests we have suntanning up on the rooftop. We can't very well leave them there for management to find.”

“Actually, Darce . . .” Jane began, with an oddly sickened expression on her face, “. . . the bodies have already been taken care of . . . .”

“Huh? How?” Darcy said. As far as she was aware, they didn't have garbage bags that big. Or a chainsaw. Or a bathtub-ful of acid.

“Loki . . . teleported them . . . .” Jane continued, looking even more sickened.

Darcy gaped at her. “Teleported them where?”

“To the bottom of your River Thames,” Loki informed her conversationally from the other side of the room. “Their armor should weigh them down nicely until they have decomposed sufficiently enough so as not to float to the surface.”

Darcy now understood why Jane looked so disgusted. Trying to force the mental image of five rotting, slimy Elf bodies lying on the Thames riverbed out of her head, “That's . . . awesome,” she said queasily. “And highly disturbing.”

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

“It's rude, you know, to run out on somebody mid-conversation.”

Darcy, who, having finally eaten, showered, and changed into clean clothes, was busy spreading fresh linens over her new sofa bed in the old not-living room (now her new bedroom), looked up and turned toward the source of the voice behind her.

Loki stood in her doorway, leaning against the doorframe, his expression unreadable. If he was trying to get some extreme reaction out of her, she was simply too exhausted to give it to him.

“It's also rude to flirt with a girl who's taken,” she pointed out dully, returning her attention to her bedsheets.

“Yes, but you aren't 'taken' anymore, are you, Little Mortal?” Loki asked, and there was something akin to triumph in his voice.

Darcy froze, clutching the edge of her comforter so hard, her hands trembled.

“Sorry,” Loki said immediately, to Darcy's immense surprise. “I did not mean to—”

“I'm not in a good talking mood right now, Jazz Hands,” Darcy said, cutting him off. “And I'm going to bed.” To bring her point home, she plopped down backward onto the unfolded sofa bed and shut her eyes.

“You may dislike me more for saying this,” she heard Loki's voice several moments later, “but you ought to know that your Ian sounded painfully boring and utterly bland. He was not worthy of you.”

Darcy snorted, continuing to keep her eyes closed. “Oh, yeah?” she muttered bitterly. “Then who is, according to you? And for the love of all that is holy, don't say yourself.”

When Loki's silence had lasted for more than thirty seconds, Darcy opened her eyes and lifted her head from her pillow. But the room was empty. Loki had gone, shutting the bedroom door behind himself. Darcy took off her glasses and put them on the bedside table, turned off her bedlamp, crawled underneath her comforter, and then let her head hit her pillow once more. The most glorious sensation washed over her as her sore, tense, tired body finally relaxed, and in mere moments, she had fallen into the sweet repose of deep, dreamless sleep.