usavatar | I WAS MADE TO HIT IN AMERICAAAA

I WAS MADE TO HIT IN AMERICAAAA

He should know not to go out at night by himself. Not because he's in any danger - Captain America in New York City on a less-than-average day doesn't have much to worry about. But because, almost without exception, he gets lost. Steve tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans and squints up at the buildings around him, ignoring the college student who staggers by, stops to stare at him, and bursts out laughing before moving on.

He's used to that, too, by now. Apparently dressing conservatively these days isn't a reflection of care for the resources of the country, or a side-effect of living life as a soldier for two years - it's just "dorky." At least he doesn't feel like someone's taped a sign to his back, not since he asked Darcy - Agent Lewis - why he kept getting that reaction.

Of course the fact that she had to explain what 'Because you're a dork' meant didn't really help his... street cred. He chuckles to himself, only a little ironic, at managing to use both terms in one train of thought.

A few streets later he's getting very confused. Usually he's able to find at least one familiar street or landmark to point him in the general right direction, at least until he finds a cab to get him the rest of the way back to the mansion. He's done this enough in the months he's been here that his assigned SHIELD shadows don't pop a vein unless he's not back by morning - in this case, though, that's probably working against him.

Finally Steve sighs and digs into his pocket to pull out his cellular phone. He looks at it for a moment, smiling to himself and wondering what Howard would make of all this. Tiny phones with tinier batteries and communicators and jets that don't need runways to take off.

Well, for all Steve knows, Howard invented most of it. He still hasn't been able to bring himself to look at history texts to see how his friends lived out their lives. There's something too much like admitting he's never going to see them again in doing that.

He flips the phone open gingerly, poking the tiny buttons with his pinky because he's not sure how else to manage the thing, and dials in what he's fairly sure is Darcy's number. Agent Lewis's number. He could try calling someone else, but she's friendly, in her own way. She doesn't treat him like a loaded gun waiting to be pointed at the next Big Bad Guy.

Steve lifts the phone to his ear with a frown. "Uh. Hello?"

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"He likes you," Steve says as he finds himself sprawled rather bonelessly across her upholstery. "Loki. Does. He likes you. He hates his brother, but he likes... you."

He squints at her, pawing weakly at his shoulder in an attempt to put pressure on it again. "That's... Where did we get here?"

There are two questions in there, somewhere.

"Maybe. It's best not to think about it too much." Because Darcy doesn't even know if Loki likes anyone, let alone her. All signs would point to some sort of familial affection if he was a normal, well adjusted individual. But it's Loki and he's anything but normal and well adjusted.

She's gone for a second before returning with a clean rag - pressing it down on his shoulder with one hand before fumbling for her phone. "Loki teleported us to my apartment." And Darcy hopes to hell he's not going to ask how Loki knows where she lives.

"Okay, try not to die and I'm going to call Coulson."

"Yes ma'am," he says. "Agent. Peggy was Agent. Was an Agent, I mean."

He closes his eyes. "Probably should let Coulson know I've got about five minutes until..."

Steve trails off for a second. "Conscien... Consh... I pass out."

"Kay. Who's Peggy?" Keep him talking, keep him talking...

Keeping pressure on the wound, Darcy thanks whatever gods actually exist that she has Coulson on speed dial. She doesn't even wait to tell if she's got his voice mail or him before she starts talking as soon as the dial tone ends.

"Coulson. It's Darcy. Steve's hurt, really hurt. Five minutes to passing out hurt and he's bleeding all over my couch and I need you or someone to get over here as soon as you can and. Don't ask questions."

A breath, and she hopes that she's actually got him on the line as she pauses to see if he responds.

"Peggy Carter," Steve says, sounding briefly lucid even if he doesn't look it. "I had her picture. They said they didn't find it, when they pulled me out, but in my compass. I had her picture."

There's a pause on the other end of the phone before Coulson says "Once he's taken care of, you're debriefing me on what category of 'don't ask' this falls under."

He hangs up.

Steve closes his eyes and tries for a deep breath. It rattles and feels a little wet and tastes like a mouthful of pennies. "That's bad," he thinks, and realizes he said it too. "She was with me. The radio, on the radio, in the plane. Peggy."

All the bad categories, but she breathes a little easier knowing he's on his way. Okay, on thing down now just to deal with the super soldier on her couch.

"Wait, you had a girlfriend." Steve Rogers. Having a girlfriend. Darcy needs to adjust her world view for a moment. But as it's something he sounds pretty lucid when he talks about her, she's going to go with it. As well as to make a mental note to find a picture of her for him, kind of as an apology for almost getting killed by her father.

"What was she like? Peggy?"

Darcy knows all about Captain America, it's kind of hard not to. But knowing about Captain America and knowing about Steve Rogers are two completely different things as she's coming to find out.

"I don't know if she..." Girlfriend. Peggy Carter, his girlfriend? "We were going to go dancing. After. After Hydra, after the... everything. She was..."

He lets his eyes close and smiles a bit, picturing her face as clearly as the photo. Clearer. "Smart. Braver than... anybody. Stronger. She..." Steve forces his eyes half open. "Believed. Believed in me, before I did. Could stop a room full of fellas in their tracks just walking in."

Steve sounds broken when he says, "I love her."

The front door to Darcy's apartment explodes inwards, and in a breath the space is full of black suits and people with medical equipment.

Coulson comes in last.

Whatever Darcy is going to say in response to his confession is interrupted by the arrival of SHIELD and never before has she been so happy to see them before in her life.

Well, at least until she realizes she's covered in blood and Steve looks like he's gone through hell and back and she forgot to wash the dishes or actually make an attempt to clean up. But she lets the suits and the medics do their job and, after a comforting squeeze to Cap's uninjured shoulder, tries to slip away as best as she can to Coulson's side.

"That was quick." Darcy doesn't even bother to hide her relief.

"We were in the area." Coulson manages a look that says We were in the area, hunting for the national icon currently bleeding out on your couch.

Steve lifts his good arm to salute. "Sir," he says, and gives a lopsided little grin. "Sorry if I don't. You know. Get up."

One of the medics forces his arm down with an exasperated reprimand. Coulson nods to the captain, then turns his full monotone focus on Darcy. "Is there somewhere we can talk."

Translation: We are going to talk. Right now.

Better on her couch than in the middle of a street, right? She shuffles under his glare and nods, gesturing him to follow her. Okay, so the only real place to talk is her bedroom or the bathroom and she seriously doubts Coulson cares about the mess in the bedroom.

Once she's in and made sure the door is shut so none of the other agents or medics will overhear and Darcy can't seem to actually shut her mouth.

"I was on the phone with him and then I suddenly got disconnected and that's not good news right and like everyone knows Loki's got this thing for coming after the Avengers though he hasn't like made it this personal in a long while and I called him and he didn't answer and I knew that there totally wasn't going to be enough time so I went after him myself."

She takes a deep breath and waits for the inevitable followup questions even if meeting Coulson's eyes is more than a little uncomfortable.

Coulson waits until the silence is uncomfortable - for her - before he says anything.

"And you didn't call to inform me or your colleagues because you were afraid for the well-being of the extraterrestrial you certainly do not have more than a passing relation to because?"

Eventually, Darcy, you will tell him the truth he already knows. And on that day he will stare at you and tell you he's recorded every outgoing conversation on your phone and is well aware of your relationship with Public Enemy Number One. Regardless of whether or not the majority of those recordings are simple static or Darcy's voice repeating "COULSON IS A DIMWITTED BOOBY" for a half hour straight.

He's very, very good at his job. Darcy definitely can't meet his eyes now and would be scuffing her shoe against the floor if she was that sort person.

Actually, she is that sort of person.

She opens her mouth to say something, to lie. But this is Coulson, who keeps an eye out for her and sticks his neck out for her more than nearly everyone she's ever met.

"Because. Because I thought that I could get Loki to stop while he'd probably enjoy killing Captain America in front of everyone else." A deep breath and she looks back at Couslon again.

She's going to put that day off for at least a few more minutes if he doesn't mind, thanks.

Silence. Again he waits, long enough for her to know that he knows that is at least half bullshit.

"It must have been difficult." A breath, enough time for her to start forming a question of what he means. "For you to get him back here by yourself."

"I--" She snaps her mouth shut and at least has the decency to look ashamed. Another moment or so passes and she looks back up to him. She knows he knows that there's something that she's not saying and Darcy also knows that she's not going to get away from this easily.

And hey, if she's going to get fired or arrested, she'd at least like it to be for something she's actually done.

"Loki sent us back here. I asked him to do it." The unspoken and it saved his life hangs, though Darcy doesn't doubt he's going to ignore that for now.

"I'm going to ignore the fact that you trusted a trickster, relative or not, in favor of pointing out you trusted SHIELD's number-one adversary to transport one of its most important assets. He could have sent the Captain into the sun and you wouldn't have been able to stop it or known until it was too late."

Coulson crosses his arms. "We got here as quickly as we did because believe it or not, Agent Lewis, the rest of your colleagues can do their jobs at least as well as you. You should have contacted me as soon as you knew something was off, regardless of your feelings for your... relative. Eventually someone is going to get killed, him or one of our own. If you want the choice of whom to fall on your shoulders, continue to behave the way you have in the past hour." Another pause as he lets that sink in. "If you would like to continue having a job and colleagues and a planet. I suggest you call us before calling him next time."

There's chastised, and then there's absolutely gutted with a side of heaping guilt. Darcy looks away, down somewhere around her feet as she just lets his words sink in. Coulson is right, of course, because he's got that annoying habit that no one can shake him out of.

And she very much doesn't want anyone to die, which is entirely the problem and one that she doesn't want to think about how he knows. Loki, by all rights, deserves death for attempted genocide among other things including a hefty collateral damage toll. She's not stupid, nor blind to that - except for when she apparently is.

"I'm sorry. I don't..." Darcy takes a deep breath and looks back up at him, her brain finally understanding the last sentence. "So I'm still... you're not firing me?"

God, she doesn't want to leave this job. She loves it, loves the people she works with and the excitement and being able to help in a way she didn't think she'd ever be able to. It's better than politics and Darcy never thought she'd say that about anything.

A pause, a sigh, and he says, "It's not worth the paperwork."

He eyes her, privately wishing she would act more like an agent being censured and less like a kid about to be grounded for life. "He'll be fine," Coulson says after a moment. It's the closest to comfort he's going to get.

Darcy can't help it, grinning from ear to ear in a sudden emotional switch around as she launches herself at him - arms wrapping around him in a brief hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you I promise to call you first next time and not him I swear it I will be the best agent you've ever had."

Well, she'll try at least. Darcy isn't anyone's model for best SHIELD agent and probably will never be. It's just a side effect of being Darcy Lewis than anything conscious on her part.

He staggers slightly, his lineface turning into a tiny scowl.

"Agent Lewis," he says. "Agent L-" Coulson cuts himself off with his own exasperation. "Don't make me reconsider."

"You wouldn't. You'd miss me." Well at least she'd hope he'd miss her. And she doesn't move to unlock her arms from around him - human contact is a required part of everyone's live, including Coulson's.

Even if he's probably never been hugged before in his life.

He makes a noise. It is neither confirmation nor denial.

When it's clear she's not going to let go until he gives some kind of response, Coulson puts one arm around her and pats her on the back. "You are one of the few people who files reports in triplicate."

Is Darcy the first person to get a hug from Coulson? She thinks she might be. So she's going to enjoy it for a little bit longer - after all, not many people can boast of a feat this great.

Though if she's being honest, she should probably admit to. Other things. At least she's got his word that she'll have her job. Hopefully.

"Now that we've gotten through this rough patch I figure that you should know that my father and I have been. Doing things. Together. Family things! Sort of, I mean if family things are possible between evil aliens and half-breeds." It speaks volumes on how many things that she refers to Loki as her father instead of relative, as Couslon and Fury have done in every memo related to the matter.

He takes a step back and favors her with another long, expressionless look that somehow manages to be exasperated. "I was aware."

Seriously, Darcy, even if he can't keep exact track of you as far as Loki is concerned he can take the signs and inconsistencies and add them into a pretty comparable picture of what's going on.

"Oh. Okay that's. You know. Good." Because if he was aware and she's still got a job? Darcy figures she's got it made. "Wait, how?"

Because she could have sworn that she was at least halfway decent at making sure that didn't get out. Like sometimes maybe there'd appear a Starbucks coffee cup on her desk because Loki came and stopped by for a visit and blocked everyone from detecting it but no one had ever said anything about it.

That she knew of.

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I WAS MADE TO HIT IN AMERICAAAA

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