Chapter Text
Darcy boarded the plane that would take her from Moscow back to Portland with trepidation. She hadn’t heard from Phil since the previous night and he’d not let her travel without wishing her safely off, even verbally, since they’d started this whole mess four years ago. He was probably just on a mission, she consoled herself as she shuffled her way down the aisle and to her window seat. She tried calling him again and hung up when it went to voicemail.
Just outside the plane, she could see the gate agents loading on all of the checked baggage. She spotted her stickered cello case on one of the carts. Her fingers tapped out a rhythm against her thigh, smooth movements passing up and down her skin as her right hand moved in time with her imaginary bow. If only she could be playing now, it would give her something to focus on other than the fact that Phil was MIA.
Could she text Natasha or Clint and ask them if they’d seen him recently? Darcy considered just how out of line she would be in reaching out to one of Phil’s underlings and had just decided to screw propriety and call Nat when her phone buzzed in her hand. “Phil!” she cried, voice just a few decibels higher than necessary for the cramped plane.
“Hey there, Sweetheart,” Phil’s smooth voice greeted her. “I’m sorry I’m so late, Natasha needed help getting out of a bind. Not much time until take off, is there?”
Darcy closed her eyes and rested her head against the window next to her. “No, probably got about ten minutes before we start heading down the runway.”
“That’s good,” Phil smiled and Darcy could hear it through the phone, “Not too much longer until I get to see what you brought me from the motherland.”
“Yes, because that’s all you care about,” Darcy chuckled. “Anyway, it’s a sixteen-hour flight so I don’t think you can accurately say it’s not too much longer. And before you say it, I know you could have pulled some strings at SHIELD to get me a faster ride, but that wouldn’t be fair to the rest of the symphony now would it?”
“The rest of the symphony isn’t living with a director of a top-secret spy organization.”
“The rest of the symphony, Phil, are my friends,” Darcy said with just a hint too much bite in her tone. “I don’t intend on abandoning them on this fresh hell of an aircraft so I can boogie home and get in your pants sooner.” Phil’s breath caught in his throat at Darcy’s sharp words and guilt shot through her like lightning. “I’m sorry, Phil. I shouldn’t have snapped at you, I’m just so tired.”
“Jetlag will do that to you,” Phil acquiesced, “Why don’t I let you go so you can try and get some rest?”
“Yeah,” Darcy sighed as she felt the plane jerk into motion as it made its way towards the runway. “We’re taxiing down now anyway. Bye Phil, love you.”
“Love you too, Sweetheart. Stay safe.” The beep of the line disconnecting sounded and Darcy turned off her phone before falling fast asleep.
Darcy was jolted awake nine hours later when an oxygen mask fell on top of her head. “Fuck,” she whispered to herself as she got her bearings. The lights overhead were flashing and there was an endless commotion in the cabin. Her time spent with Phil kicked in and before she had a chance to consider what was happening she was pulling the oxygen mask over her face and jostling the tuba player next to her to help him with his own mask.
Before the strap had even been secured on her neighbors head the plane took a sudden dive forwards, nose angling down towards earth, snack carts rolled down the aisle pushing a flight attendant down in its path. “This is not how I wanted to die,” Darcy thought to herself as she took deep breaths in through her oxygen mask. She’d been on tour with the symphony for the past month, the constant time zone changes wreaking havoc on her relationship with Phil, not to mention her sleep schedule. All she’d wanted for the past two weeks was to rest quietly in Phil’s arms while he told her stories from his time as an Army Ranger.
She would never get that chance now. She wasn’t even sure where they were, the map screens had all turned off about the time the emergency lights had come on. Darcy felt her heart rate pick up and called on her brief time spent trying to learn how to meditate. Now was not the time to hyperventilate, she’d need all her faculties about her if she survived the crash landing they were sure to be making any moment now. With the speed the plane was going down Darcy doubted she'd be surviving, but really why be pessimistic now.
“I love you, Phil,” she whispered into her oxygen mask as the plane made its final descent towards the icy ground.
“Talk to me,” Phil’s voice was cold, hard. If Natasha wasn’t able to see his eyes she’d have no idea the amount of pain he was in right now. This was Agent Coulson through and through.
“The plane went down in the Saskatchewan province just outside of Moose Jaw. Pilot malfeasance is the most likely cause of the crash though we’ve got people looking into it to confirm it wasn’t a terrorist plot,” Natasha kept her emotions in check - concern over Darcy or her handler wouldn’t help the situation right now. “Emergency services were en route as of twenty minutes ago, no word on how the plane fared in the crash.”
“Get me on the line with local authorities,” Phil commanded as he stalked towards the front of the plane. “Clint, how long until we’re there?”
“Thirty minutes give or take,” Clint shrugged.
“Make it in twenty,” Coulson turned on his heel and left the cockpit in silence.
“Is anyone going to remind him that Darcy is a civilian and this is not a matter of homeland intervention or enforcement?” Clint whispered to Natasha as they followed behind him.
“Do you want to be the one to tell him he can’t use his available resources to make sure his girlfriend is safe? Because by all means, take it away,” Natasha replied.
“Ha, fat chance,” Clint huffed.
Natasha connected Phil through to the authorities who were on scene and ascertained that they had already sent a woman fitting Darcy’s description to the local hospital; she had been the only passenger to sustain critical injuries, the rest of the passengers having escaped mostly unscathed. Coulson directed Clint to the hospital the injured were being taken to before sitting silently in the back of the plane, anxiously awaiting their arrival.
“Coulson, you’ll want to come over here,” Natasha radioed to him through her comm. He could see her across the buzzing lobby of the hospital and carefully made his way over to her.
Darcy lay unconscious on a stretcher beside Natasha, two nurses were attending to her while a paramedic was speaking quickly to Natasha but stopped when the redhead raised her hand. “Coulson, this is Ramirez, he brought Darcy to the hospital from the crash.”
“Agent Coulson,” Phil nodded in the man's direction while flashing his badge, “What can you tell me?”
“Most of the passengers are uninjured. The right wing of the aircraft sustained most of the damage, passengers seated near that wing are the ones with injuries. Twelve injuries in all. Least severe is a broken wrist, the most severe is this young lady here.” Phil cast his eyes towards Darcy’s prone form and kept his Calm Agent Face intact, though Natasha could tell it was a struggle by the small wrinkle at his forehead.
“And her injuries?” Phil asked as he turned to face Darcy.
“It looks like she was knocked around quite a bit, we suspect some bleeding on the brain. She’ll need a CT scan to confirm. You’re family?” the man asked as the nurses began to wheel Darcy towards the elevator.
“Yes,” Coulson nodded curtly, eyes following the nurses in a clear sign that the conversation was over. He began to follow behind them, Natasha right in step with him. “I want you and Clint to go to the scene of the crash, see if you can find Darcy’s cello for me. She always flew it in a bright neon green airplane case, hopefully, it stayed undamaged. I’ll let you know when we have a final report of her injuries.”
Natasha nodded and placed a hand on Phil’s bicep, squeezing gently before she turned on her heel to follow his command.
Darcy lay motionless on the hospital bed while two nurses bustled around her. Phil stood with his back against the wall in quiet contemplation of their movements, patiently waiting for them to give him a chance to go to Darcy and comfort her. Not that she’d know the difference right now - she’d been unconscious when they found her and hadn’t shown signs of waking yet. The waiting was agony, but Phil drew on his experience in the army and with SHIELD to remain patient.
Finally, the nurses finished their tasks and left the room in peace. Phil stepped away from the wall, his carefully placed mask falling with each step he took towards the bed. There were now multiple machines hooked up to Darcy, IV needles coming out of one of her arms and bruises darkening on her face. He moved the single chair in the room to her bedside, sitting down and taking her free hand in his own and stroking his thumb softly over her knuckles. “Oh, my sweet Darcy. Please be okay,” he whispered as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.