Work Text:
When the world swam back into view, Darcy was aware of two things. One: her head really, really hurt and two: a guy who looked vaguely like Mrs O’Malley’s framed Jesus portrait was hovering over her.
“You okay there, doll?” He asked in an appropriately gentle voice, though she doubted the messiah would use an old-fashioned endearment like that.
If this was the afterlife, she had not expected the Messiah to be so hot, no matter what Mrs O’Malley had always tried to convince her of. Maybe she should have listened to the old Irish lady, apparently she knew what shit was about.
He sighed. “Is it the beard or the hair?” He sounded resigned, had she said that out loud?
“The Spider-kid said the same thing and Wilson hasn’t let it go since.” He continued and yup, she had said that out loud.
“You need me to get you a doctor or you think you’re good to sit up?”
She blinked at the question, hand going to where her head was pounding, only for him to catch it before she got there.
“Nah-uh, you don’t wanna touch that. Getcha some ice in a minute and I can clean it for you if you’re alright otherwise. Doc is also still on the table though until you talk to me, right FRIDAY?”
“Just give the word, Sarge. I have one on call for the facility.” The AI spoke up.
The exchange had memory flood back and Darcy flushed with utter embarrassment. “Don’t! I’m fine!” She tried to scramble into a seated position but still needed his help. “I’m okay. Promise!”
-“You’re still bleeding and I walked in on you lying on the kitchen floor. Wouldn’t call that okay.” He noted but still guided her to lean against the cupboard behind her.
-“Yea, funny story. So, I’ve actually been helping my boss with the really exciting breakthrough and uhm… I was gonna get us some food because it’s dinnertime and we hadn’t even had breakfast and… I kinda get low blood sugar, so…”
She cringed, unable to look at him but he was paying more attention to the bump on her head.
“Well, you don’t need stitches, I don’t think. So I’m assuming you hit it on your way down then?” He said, tactfully not commenting and getting to his feet to rummage through the freezer.
She may or may not have checked out his butt, living, breathing warm-blooded woman that she was, even if her head still hurt.
He came back with an ice-pack wrapped in a clean kitchen towel, easing it into place with utter gentleness.
“Keep that there for a bit and then we’ll see about cleaning you up. You got somewhere to be?” He was all business and serious but she was a bit intrigued with the easy routine in his motion.
“Bosslady was asleep when I ducked out so, no.”
“Good,” pale blue eyes assessed her for another moment. “What’re we gonna do about that blood sugar of yours?”
-“Promise not to laugh at me?”
He looked the tiniest bit puzzled but nodded.
“There’s a bunch of juice-boxes in the fridge I keep for emergencies.”
To give him credit, his mouth twitched only a little bit before he nodded and got up again.
Apparently it was too much to ask for no smart comment though, because after she had taken her first sip, he cleared his throat, looking away as if suddenly shy.
“Tell you the truth, I thought those were Parker’s.” He admitted in a quiet voice.
“Nah, they’re mine.” She smiled, starting to feel better already. “Didn’t catch your name there, Not-Jesus.”
He blinked at her.
“Bucky.”
“Hi, Bucky. I’m Darcy.” She tried to hold out a hand to shake but both were occupied with juice and icepack respectively.
His eyes flickered over her awkwardly before simply easing gentle fingers over hers where the icepack rested.
“Let me have another look.” He said, moving her head to face the light a little better, before guiding her hand back into place while he dug around a first aid box she had not even seen him bring.
“Alright, I’m gonna clean it and stick some gauze on. It’s probably gonna sting, sorry about that. And I still think you should get checked out, for the record.”
“I’m sure I can handle it.” She smiled.
He really need not have worried because his ministrations were soft and delicate, just the way they had been since she had come to.
“You’re really good at this.” She commented, because the silence was killing her.
“Had plenty of practice.” He finished with the rubbing alcohol and inspected the injury again before sorting through the kit again. “I think a bandaid might do, but I don’t wanna risk it irritating the swelling later so I’m gonna go for that gauze anyway, okay?”
She nodded but was still intrigued. “Where’d you get practice? Don’t tell me you always patch yourself up?”
He winced. “More often than not. But when you got a friend who insists on fighting people four times his size, you pick up a few things.”
She watched as he finished, packed the kit up and cleaned up the trash. “So,… I still haven’t eaten and there’s a burger place a few blocks away. You wouldn’t care to tell me some of these incriminating stories about your star-spangled friend involving said huge people over some fries and maybe a burger?”
He froze and she almost winced, getting ready for the slap of rejection.
It took him a moment but his shoulders relaxed and he half-turned, still not quite looking at her.
“I - I think I’d like that.”
- “Awesome. Help me up and I’ll lead the way.”
****