Disclaimer: I don't own anything that MARVEL owns like the Avenger Movies, the Iron Man Movies, the Thor Movies, the Hulk, MARVEL's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., or the Captain America Movies. I am willing to make unscrupulous deals for them.
Author's Note: You know, this story was just supposed to be a cute dead/not dead, why isn't she dead type thing and I think it grew a mind of its own. There is just SO much that can be done. I think I may have bitten off more that I can chew – but hey it's November! NaNoWriMo? I'm gonna try!
Chapter Eight: Questions and Answers and More Questions
Darcy's head snapped up and her cat eyes laser-focused on James Buchannan Barnes. He'd asked if he knew her. Looking at him, she still thought he was extremely familiar to her but couldn't place him. Even after the mad dash running around and everything she still wanted to rub her body all over him and share her scent. Not in an intimate fashion of course… now the Captain… he was another story.
No, she decided. He didn't know her. She shook her head to indicate her answer and shifted her focus to Clint Barton. Agent Biceps. DickFace that nearly shot her with an arrow. Upon seeing the look on her face, he immediately set about defending himself. "Come on, D, you know I didn't mean to!" he explained as Darcy shuffled over the Natasha.
The gathered Avengers could tell that Darcy wasn't fully back to her right mind – she was moving hunched over and shuffling instead of walking upright like a normal human being. Her eyes had finally returned to the normal human shape that they were used to seeing on their Intern Extraordinaire… even if she did still have a tail. Natasha slung an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close. The brilliant white hot fury she'd felt earlier upon Darcy's death had finally receded. She'd know that Darcy was different – but never in her wildest dreams could she have thought it would save her life.
The communal living room was trashed. Overturned and broken furniture. Dust from craters in the floor caused by Hulk's foot prints and Darcy's claws. Darcy could do nothing but look around in horror and sadness. She did this. The living room was in worse shape than the Tower Lobby.
Finally Pepper Potts stepped forward and addressed the girl that had taken a bullet for her. "Darcy? I can appreciate all of this is very… stressful for you… Is there anything I can do to make things easier on you?"
Darcy tilted her head in response. The group was coming to terms with the fact that a lot of Darcy's quirks and mannerisms that they had grown used to were byproducts of her feline mutation. Affectionate rubbing. Head tilting. Even the mother henning. It all made so much more sense now.
"I… I don't know," Darcy responded to Pepper. Only Darcy's tail remained of her mad shift (her tail was always the thing that was the hardest to shift away). Her mind was 100% back in gear and she was ashamed of her reaction and the fact that she had tried to run away from her family and friends. She hung her head.
"No! None of that! There will be no feeling guilty in my Tower!" Tony Stark interrupted. "Yes, you're a mutant, no I don't care. You take care of everyone but yourself – and you just took a bullet for Pepper. You saved her. You saved Jane – Hell, I'm pretty sure you saved Natasha! You do not get to feel guilty about that," he finally finished.
Looking around the room, Darcy could see the members of her family nodding their heads and agreeing with him. "You're not mad I didn't tell you?" She asked a little weakly. She was back in the right frame of mind but her chest was still sore a hell from the bullet.
"I for one and glad you're a Mutant," Maria Hill cut in. Before she could get any farther though, Darcy cut her off.
"I won't be a weapon for SHIELD." She stared her dead in the eyes and dared her to say otherwise.
"That's not what I meant. I meant that explains why we couldn't find anything on your history. Especially, seeing as you just nearly died for this crew, I'm going to go out on a limb and assume you don't mean them any harm," Hill responded.
"No! They're Pack! You must protect Pack at all costs," Darcy told her.
Just then, JARVIS cut in. "Pardon, the interruption Sirs, Madams. It appears that Miss Lewis has a visitor". In the few months that Darcy had been at the Tower, she'd had no visitors and she rarely – if ever – left.
Jane finally spoke up after all of the excitement, "who is it JARVIS?" The television screen flicked to life around the crack running down the middle of it. On it showed surveillance of the Lobby. A figure stood at the security check point in baggy sweats and the hood pulled over their head. It was hard to tell, the figure was tall and curvy, definitely a woman, but no other features were visible with them facing away from the camera.
"She gave the name of Rhiannon Duchenne".
Darcy froze even as Tony pestered JARVIS for more information. "Who?"
All eyes went to Darcy as she clarified: "My mother".