heaven from hell - t - darcy/bucky - 2/4 [b]
title: so you think you can tell (heaven from hell)
category: thor/captain america
genre: romance/tragedy
ship: darcy/bucky
rating: nc-17/explicit
word count: 10,239
summary: As far as happy stories go, this was that. The beginning, the middle, they were the happiest times either of them ever knew. It's the endings that are sad, and every story has one. Some are just sadder than others.
playlist: 8tracks
polyvore: [7] | [8] | [9] |[10]
previous: [prologue]
[return]
Darcy said "I love you" like it was a war cry. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing, no shame. She didn't care who heard her as long as she got to say it as loud and as often as she wanted to. Which was always. She said it when she woke up, eyes still crusty with sleep. While brushing her teeth, toothpaste dripping down her chin. She said it over coffee-flavored kisses before she ran out the door for work; always five minutes late. She said it when he was passing by for lunch or when he dropped in to bring her coffee on her break. She said it while she laughed at her own 'old man jokes,' kissing him to make him feel better, even if he found some of them amusing. She said it while they danced in the living room, to old records or her iPod playlists. She said it every opportunity she got, like every silence had to be filled with something, and the best thing she could give was that. And he loved it. He loved her for it.
The first time she told him she loved him, it was quiet.
They were curled up on the couch together, arms and legs tangled so completely he couldn't tell which was his and which was hers. She whispered it against his neck, her eyelashes brushing his skin, her voice more like a breath, an exhalation of feeling that sunk into his heart, tied itself around it in a knot that wouldn't give, and promised never to let go.
And he knew, as she said it again and again and again, whispering those three little words that never seemed so big, that loving her would be the best thing he ever did.
Darcy loved knitting. She had a big basket of wool that she kept by her favorite arm chair and a scraggly green bag she brought with her when she was going to be anywhere for an extended period of time. Sometimes she brought it over to his apartment and she'd hang out on one end of the couch knitting while he sat on the other end, reading a book or going through files for an upcoming mission. It was nice, comfortable; he looked forward to nights like those. He mentioned once, that he didn't like getting cold, that it triggered him sometimes. She made him three beanies and a scarf and always kept an extra in her purse when they were out. That was just the first time he realized he loved her.
"My nana taught me," she told him, army green wool in her lap. "She used to say that the uglier it was, the better. That it wasn't about making it look nice, but about making something warm. Pops said she only said it because she was a shitty knitter, but I liked her logic… Who cares what it looks like if it keeps someone you love warm."
His eyes washed over her face, the gentle, nostalgic smile on her lips and the soft, sad look in her eyes. He squeezed her foot, laying in his lap. "You miss her?"
She looked over, her brows raised a little. "Yeah, sometimes. She was… one of my favorite people. She taught me a lot."
Putting his folders aside, he crawled up the couch to her, dropping his head in her lap. "You wanna talk about her?"
She stared down at him a moment, putting aside her needles and scrubbing her fingers through his hair. "Yeah, maybe."
He nodded, staying quiet as he waited.
It took her a few false starts, like she wasn't sure where to begin, but then she smiled. "She was a shit-disturber in her time. Protests and rallies and always trying to stand up to 'the man'… That's how she met pops. He was a police officer; he'd arrested her a few times. He said when he used to get called in to break some big protest up, he knew he'd see her there… He fell in love with her fire. Said she was the strongest, smartest woman he'd ever met. Made him want to be a better man. Someone who questioned things instead of just going along with the norm… They were a good couple. They fought a lot, but they made it a rule to always end a fight with a kiss. It was the silliest thing when I was kid. They'd be shouting at each other one second, they'd still look pissed and everything, and then they'd just walk over to each other and kiss. And pops would grumble an 'I love you' at her and walk off for some peace and quiet… It was weird, but awesome too. They were married fifty-six years and I don't think they ever went a day without saying 'I love you.'" Humming, she dragged her knuckles down his cheek. "Something to aspire to, right?"
"Yeah." He stared up at her searchingly. "I could love you for fifty-six years."
"Me and my ugly knitting?" she joked, but her voice was soft and affectionate.
"All of it," he agreed seriously.
"Just for that I'm gonna make you some gloves; the kind with fingers… To prove your loyalty, obviously."
He chuckled under his breath. "Obviously."
Darcy ducked down to kiss him, lingering at his lips and pecking his chin before she leaned back up.
She ended up making him those gloves; he wore them every day until she told him she believed him, laughing as she kissed him.
Darcy made friends easier than anybody Bucky had ever known. She just had a way with people, drawing them in and keeping them close without even trying. She accepted people at face value, was careful not to jump to conclusions, and didn't put any expectations or demands on her friendship. Sometimes, when he looked at the hodgepodge of people she surrounded herself with, he wondered how she kept as relatively grounded as she was. Her best friends were an astrophysicist and a warrior of Asgard; of course, girls' nights with Jane and Sif almost always ended in them losing articles of clothing and calling him, Hill or Natasha to pick them up because "the fuzz are coming and we need a quick exit." She had a weekly poker game with Stark, Barton, and Natasha. She and Banner frequently went out for taste-testing sprees at the local restaurants and tea shops. She hung out in Director Coulson's office when she was bored and texted him pictures of cats for shits and giggles. She was a 'shield sister' to the Prince of Asgard and a dance partner to Captain America. Darcy surrounded herself with the biggest personalities she could find and still managed to stand out.
"So listen, I know you're probably still pissed about that time I called you to come bail me out of fake-jail, but that was drunk-Darcy," she told him as she put a hoop earring in while she walked into the living room, her heels clicking. "And drunk-Darcy can't be trusted. Seriously, she's a shit-disturber."
"And sober-Darcy isn't?" he snorted, raising an eyebrow at her, his beer balanced on his knee as he muted the television. "Darce, I wasn't pissed that you drunk dialed me to get you outta the drunk tank you weren't even in."
"No?" She raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Because you looked pretty pissed when you had to drive us all home from the bar after. I mean, my memory's a little hazy, but I'm pretty sure you got the eye-tick when we started singing Asgardian ballads."
"Yeah, well, I love you, but you can't sing for shit."
Darcy scoffed. "Uh, excuse me, you can't hold my drunk-singing against me. That's a foul." Circling the couch, she knelt on the cushion beside him, pushing her hair back for him to see her earrings.
"They're nice," he told her dutifully, tugging her into his lap. "What about your shower singing? Can I hold that against you?"
"No, and not my car singing or my lab singing either. Only my I-think-I-sound-pretty-good-right-now-and-I'm-almost-definitely-on-key singing. That you can praise me for, let's be real." Her brows hiked.
He shook his head, lips twitching up in a smile. "You lemme know when that happens, I'll pay extra close attention."
"Ha. Ha." She rolled her eyes and leaned in for a kiss, puckering her lips expectantly.
He kissed her, rubbing his thumb under her mouth when he smudged her lipstick a little.
"You sure you don't want to come?" she asked, shifting off his lap and grabbing up her purse. "Sif says she owes you a rematch on that last drinking contest."
"Nah, think I'll get some shut-eye."
"Old man," she said affectionately, grinning at him.
He rolled his eyes, shrugging. "It was a long mission."
"Yeah, I know. You were out there kicking ass and saving the world. I think you can take a night off from keeping an eye on three drunk chicks with loose lips and looser morals."
Bucky arched an eyebrow. "I'm not too worried. You'll call if you need help. Bail money or a ride, whichever."
"Yes," she agreed, nodding shortly. "I'll call Steve."
"Darcy…"
"Hey, you were the one who said you were tired…" She pulled on her jacket, shaking the collar back and pulling her hair free. "Besides, Steve won't mind. I mean, is it just me or does he seem to have a thing for Sif? Strong brunettes are kind of his type, right?"
Bucky grinned. "Yeah. I don't know, he hasn't said anything, but I don't think he'd turn her down."
Smirking, her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "That could be interesting."
"No matchmaking," he sighed, dropping his head back onto the couch.
"No promises." Pressing a kiss to his forehead and then the tip of his nose, she smiled. "Okay, I'm going. Be good, sleep lots, feel free to stay over if you want me to wake you up for sloppy, drunk sex later."
He raised his beer in farewell and Darcy blew him one last kiss before she walked out the door.
As it closed behind her, he smiled to himself and then sunk a little more into her couch, grabbing up the remote to see what TV had to offer.
It felt good, normal, like coming home. Sure, she wasn't there, but her apartment was so her, and while he wished he had her curled up next to him, he knew how important it was for her to blow off some steam with her best friends. Kicking his feet up onto the table, he took a drag from his beer and pulled his phone from his pocket, turning the volume up high. Chances were, she would call him, and either ask him to come get her or leave long, rambling messages about whatever funny thing Jane or Sif were doing and how she missed him and loved him and wished he was there. And, because drunk-Darcy really was a troublemaker, she'd probably call and leave incriminating evidence on his voicemail, too.
God, he loved that woman.
Darcy loved Steve like a brother. A brother that frequently ran headfirst into danger and whom she would give the silent treatment to if she felt said danger was not worth running headfirst into. Or if she didn't like his methods after that danger passed.
"Is she still not talking to me?" Steve asked, tracking Darcy as she crossed the living room with a giant bowl of popcorn.
Bucky looked over from the TV screen he'd been scrolling through. "Huh?"
Steve frowned. "I wasn't even in medical an hour before they let me out. Usually it takes more than that to piss her off."
"I think it was the part where you were mid-conversation with her and left her hanging on the phone so she had to hear the gunshots with no explanation."
"And didn't even call to tell me he was okay," she put in, still refusing to look at him.
"And that," Bucky said, pointing his thumb at her.
Sighing, Steve sat forward, arms resting on his knees. "Darcy, it's movie night. You're not going to talk to me all of movie night? Your favorite part is asking me if I expected the plot twist…"
She pursed her lips and glared at the television.
"Look, I'm sorry that I didn't call you back. I wasn't expecting to get in the middle of a bank robbery. It all happened very quickly. I didn't have time to explain." When she still didn't budge, Steve pointed out, "I saved three people. One was a little kid; he had a Hulk t-shirt on. Looked just like the one I got you for Christmas last year."
Still nothing. He turned to Bucky, who shrugged at him. "She can do this for days."
"Weeks," Darcy warned.
Steve dragged a hand over his face. "Okay. You're right. I know you worry, not just about me, but the whole team. And it's gotta be hard, always being home when we're out on missions. I know you care and I made a mistake, not calling you back to let you know I was okay. I wasn't thinking about anybody but those people and the fact that they needed help."
Apparently reaching her limit, she huffed at him. "Of course they did, and I'm not even mad that you stuck your neck out and saved them. That's what you do, it's who you are. But when you're done with all the heroic bullshit, you need to call, because yeah, that kid totally deserved being saved, and now he can go home to his family and talk about how cool it was that Captain America saved the day. But you have a family to come home to too, so don't… Don't forget that." She crossed her arms over her chest and slunk down in her chair, her leg hanging over the arm.
Steve stared at her a long moment, his brow furrowed. It took him a few seconds to process it before he pushed up from the couch and circled around Bucky to kneel beside her. He dropped a kiss to the top of her hair and said, "You're right. I do. I'm sorry."
Darcy tipped her head back to see him, her brows raised. "Good. You're forgiven. But I'm not sharing my popcorn with you. Consider it punishment."
Chuckling under his breath, he held his hands up in surrender. "Deal," he said, walking back to the couch and flopping down in the corner.
Bucky smiled to himself before changing the subject to which movie they wanted to watch.
Darcy lasted a half hour before she took over the middle seat on the couch and shared her popcorn with them. She never was good at staying angry.
Darcy's ladies' nights were well-deserved. She worked a lot and if she wanted to spend one night of the week getting shit-faced, he didn't see anything wrong with that. Depending on who was working and who was on earth, there was no guarantee of who would be joining her, but she always managed to talk someone into coming along. How each night ended was pretty much the same, with her calling either him or Steve to come pick her up from whatever bar she and the girls had wound up at, because it was never the one they originally intended to go to.
"Listen, I need you to come pick us up. We're at the Thirsty Chihuahua. Wait, no we're not. I just saw a chihuahua on the street, and I'm thirsty. We're at the… Jane, where are we?"
"The bar!" she yelled back.
"Oh my god, you're a useless genius. I know we're at the bar. What bar are we at?"
There was some mumbling in the background before Darcy sighed. "Okay, you picked us up from here like last month. You know the one, it has those yellow stripes on the wall out front and the pink lights."
He nodded, scrubbing his fingers over his eyes. "Yeah, I know the one," he said, shoving off the bed. "I can be there in fifteen minutes."
"Okay good. But also, just a head's up, I might've called Steve and asked him to come pick us up too. So it's first come, first wins."
The click of her hanging up followed and he rolled his eyes to himself before dialing Steve, who answered with a, "She called you too, huh?"
"Yeah, I'll go grab them. Don't worry about it."
"I was up anyway," Steve dismissed. "You want company on the drive?"
"Sure."
After hanging up, Bucky left his bedroom, grabbing his jacket off the back of his couch and shoving his feet into his shoes. He was yawning as he walked down the hallway to the elevator, nodding at Steve as he left his own apartment, locking up and stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket.
"Sif with them tonight?" he wondered, walking at his side.
Bucky shook his head. "No, she was going to come in but something came up. They invited Hill out, but last time Darcy texted, she said Hill had to cut out early, so it's just her and Jane."
Nodding, Steve leaned against the back wall of the elevator as it descended to the garage below. "You ever feel old?" he wondered. "The girl's go out every weekend. Half the time I feel like napping is a better option."
Bucky snorted, mouth turned up at the corners. "It's a little different for them. Darcy and Jane spend most of their time in the labs. They're not exactly chasing down bad guys and getting beaten and bruised for the effort."
"True," he agreed, brows hiked. "Just makes me think sometimes… I know we have movie night, but maybe we should do something else, too. Doesn't have to be going out to the bar, but I know Barton and Natasha have a poker game whenever they're in-house. We could drop in on theirs or have one of our own, invite Sam, Coulson, a few others."
Bucky nodded. "Sure. Wouldn't mind that."
As the doors opened on the garage, Bucky pulled out the keys from his pocket and crossed to one of the SUV's the team was allowed to use at their discretion. The drive to the bar was spent mostly in quiet, listening to oldies, which weren't all that old in comparison to the men listening to them, on the radio, with Bucky occasionally yawning. He'd been sleeping when Darcy called and would be happy to get back home and get a few more hours before he had to be up tomorrow.
He spotted the bar up ahead and shook his head as he spotted Darcy and Jane doing the can-can, sloppily, arms around each other's shoulders.
"Is that them?" Steve asked.
"Last week it was the Macarena." Pulling the truck over to the curb, he reached for his seatbelt and climbed out. For a moment, he just watched, they weren't just dancing, but singing too.
"Can you, can you do the can-can-" Darcy paused suddenly. "Jane, I told you, we're not doing the dress flash!"
"But that's the best part," Jane complained, leaning back abruptly, forcing Darcy to catch her before she fell.
"Not on a dark, public street it isn't."
Steve snorted.
Attention immediately diverted, the girls spotted them and lit up happily. Bucky pushed off the hood of the truck and circled toward them, but they were already moving, and not in the direction he expected. Darcy, being Darcy, hopped over to Steve. "You're a godsend, Steve Rogers, my feet are killing me and nobody else gives me piggyback rides."
Steve blinked at her. "Darcy, we're five feet from the truck."
Pouting up at him, she dropped her head back and held her arms out expectantly.
Sighing, Steve obediently turned around. "All right, hop on."
"Yes!" Leaping onto his back, she wrapped her arms around his neck and said, "Take a lap, Rogers!"
Bucky was chuckling at them when he realized Jane was standing in front of him, swaying a little.
"Hey," she said, reaching over and slapping a hand against his chest.
He raised an eyebrow down at her. "You have a good night, Doc?"
She blew out a raspberry, but nodded. "So listen… I think… we need to talk. Me and you, man to astrophysicist."
Resting an elbow on the hood, he nodded at her, offering her a serious expression. "I'm listening."
Behind them, Darcy demanded, "Another!" And Steve simply walked them around the truck again.
"You and Darcy, you two are getting really serious…" She mimicked him, leaning on the hood, and put a hand to her head to keep it up, wincing when her bracelet snagged in her hair. "Like, shmoopy, fall in love, maybe get married one day, serious."
He stared at her. "Okay."
Jane's eyes narrowed up at him. "So you're saying you want to marry her?"
His brows hiked. "What?"
A scowl pulled at her mouth. "Are you saying you don't want to marry her? Because she's awesome. She's loud and sometimes lazy and she never takes science serious enough, but she is awesome." Reaching forward, she poked him in the chest. "You'd be lucky to marry Darcy!"
Bucky shook his head. "I'm too sober for this conversation," he muttered to himself before catching Jane's hand. "Listen, I'm not saying I do or don't want to marry Darcy. We haven't talked about that yet. We're serious and I love her and you're right, I would be lucky. But we're not there yet."
"Yet," she said. "You said yet. As in 'eventually.'"
He sighed. "Yeah, I did."
"Oh." She blinked up at him and then suddenly pushed off the truck and hugged him. Bucky stood completely still for a moment. He liked Jane. She was smart and stubborn and she loved Darcy. But they'd never been all that close. He considered her a friend, just not the type of friend he hugged. Actually, the number of people he would hug was pretty small. Darcy liked hugs. She liked long hugs that usually turned into cuddling or dancing. Jane's hug was purely platonic. She rested her head against her own arm and looked up at him, her eyes a little glazed.
"I'm happy she found you," she told him. "She deserves so much and she's really happy with you. And you might be really intimidating and kind of grumpy sometimes-"
"Am I?" he asked, amused. "You wouldn't know it right now."
"-but I get what she means, when she says that you fit her and she fits you. So just… keep making her happy and we'll be good." With that, she let him go, clapping her hands down on his shoulders before she turned on her heel and walked around to the back door of the truck. "Darcy, it's late, and I want to eat crackers and cry on my bathroom floor. Let's go."
"Party-pooper," Darcy called back. "All right, Steve, turn this muscle-mobile around."
Bucky rolled his eyes, grinning as he climbed into the driver's seat while Steve stuffed Darcy into her seat and fought with her to put her seatbelt on.
Just another average girl's night.
Darcy described her mother as "a pill and a half. Made of cyanide. But the fake tooth you're hiding it in won't come loose, so you just suffer in silence."
He thought she was joking. Darcy had a unique way with words and it wouldn't be the first time she exaggerated something. But then Gina Lewis came to visit her only daughter for her 26th birthday. Never mind that it was a month too late and a year older than she really was…
"Don't they usually age you down? You know, you forget a year, you don't tack one on. I'm being forcibly aged!" Darcy complained, pacing from one end of the kitchen to the other.
"Steve would tell you it was the gesture that counts," he replied, eyeing the balloon Gina had arrived with, a bright, gold 26 written on it in bubble font.
"Yeah?" She tapped her foot, hands on her hips. "Well, Steve's not here. So, what do you have to say about it?"
"I say…" He hopped down from the counter and reached for her, pulling her in close and resting his chin atop her head. "That it sucks, but, if you think about it, you get presents… You know how you love presents."
"That's true… I do love free things…" She sighed, turning her head to rest her cheek against his chest. "Just… stay close. I don't really wanna deal with her on my own. Okay?"
He nodded, brushing a hand down her hair, and kissed her forehead. "Promise."
Of course, when he made that promise, he hadn't expected Gina to be quite so… agitating.
Gina complained about everything. The Avengers, the city, Darcy's apartment, Darcy's career, Darcy's taste in men, Darcy, etcetera, etcetera. It seemed like Gina never shut up, and as long as her mouth was moving, she was putting something or someone down. It was driving him up the wall. He knew he didn't have any right to get in the middle of things or tell Gina that she needed to stop ragging on Darcy. It was Darcy's family, her business, and she needed to figure it out on her own, but that didn't stop him from wanting to step in. As soon as Gina started on one of her rants, he could feel the anger prickling under his skin and had to leave. He joined Steve in the gym to work off his frustration, but even just knowing she was in the building was bugging him.
"Maybe you should talk to Darcy about it. I mean, her mother's been here a few days… How long is she planning on staying?"
Bucky shook his head. "She skirts the question whenever Darcy asks. Wouldn't be surprised if I turned around and she'd moved right in."
Steve frowned. "Would Darcy let her do that?"
"She's different around her mother. She clams up. It's like she's a little kid and she knows she shouldn't back-talk. It's weird." He scowled, shaking his head. "I've seen her tear into guys three times her size without even flinching, but her mother shows up and she's never been quieter…" Bucky scowled. "I don't like it."
"More reason to talk to her. If she's really having trouble with her mom, maybe she needs to vent about it, a little encouragement to get her to stand up to her."
"Yeah?" Bucky raised an eyebrow at him. "And what happens if it backfires and she tells me to butt out?"
Steve shrugged. "Then butt out, but let her know you're still there if she needs you."
He sighed, nodding. "Yeah, all right, I'll try it."
As it turned out, Darcy didn't need him to butt in. By the time he let himself back into her apartment, she was in the middle of ranting at her mother.
"-I'm not a teenager. You don't get to dictate my life. Especially when you can't even remember when my birthday is or how old I am. Twenty-five, FYI."
"Oh, you're being dramatic," Gina sniffed.
"Hah! That's rich, coming from you," Darcy exclaimed. "You are the queen of drama. If they were handing out crowns for how much shit one person could stir, yours would be custom made to fit your ginormous ego." Tossing her hands up, she shook her head. "I don't even know why you're still here. All you've done is put down my friends and my home and my boyfriend since the minute you walked in the door!"
"Is it a crime to want the best for your daughter? Hm? You could have been so much more, but you wasted it all. You should be in law school, not trailing behind Tony Stark, cleaning up after him."
"I didn't want to be a lawyer. I never wanted to," Darcy declared loudly. "I didn't know what I wanted, but I did know that much."
"Darcy, listen to me-"
"No, you listen… This is my home. This so-called crappy apartment that doesn't fit your standard of living. These are my people, the scientists and the assassins and the aliens and the 1940's soldiers; they're all mine. This is my life, not yours, and you don't get to come into it and tell me everything you find wrong with it. Because it's not yours and it never will be. I love it just the way it is. I love my absent-minded geniuses and my complicated, issue-ridden friends, and my smart and funny and incredibly patient boyfriend. So no more complaining, no more putting down anybody, no more 'Darcy, if you just did it this way…' None of it! If you want to visit, fine, but you need to respect me and my life and the people in it… or you won't be invited back."
There was a long, tense silence then, before her mother finally said, "Is that what you want?"
Darcy sighed. "I want you to realize that I'm happy where I am and who I am."
"All right then… I'll get my things and go. I think enough's been said here."
As Gina walked down the hallway to get her stuff from Darcy's room, where she'd been staying while Darcy either camped out on the couch or stole away up to his apartment, Bucky stepped into view.
Darcy's face was buried in her hands as she let out a long, heavy breath, her shoulders slumped. He crossed the room to her and rubbed a hand down her back. "Hey, you okay?"
She shook her head and leaned over, resting against him. "Not really."
Hugging his arms around her, he asked, "What can I do?"
Darcy snuggled a little closer. "Just this."
So he did. He held her while Gina rolled her luggage out of the room and walked to the door, taking her sweet time, waiting on Darcy to change her mind or call her back. But she didn't, she just held onto Bucky and let her mom leave, let her words resonate, and then, when all was quiet and Gina Lewis had finally left the building, Darcy raised her head and said, "What'd I tell you?"
He half-smiled down at her. "Pill and a half."
She nodded. "Pill and a half."
[continue]