Work Text:
"Hey, early bird. Coffee?"
Monica looked back from where she'd been inspecting Jimmy's whiteboard to see Darcy a few steps away, holding out a cup with a questioning brow. Considering the time - sometime around five in the morning, last she'd checked - she looked entirely too put-together, not accounting for the somewhat manic gleam in her eyes. It seemed like a permanent fixture with Darcy, though. She bounced around from topic to topic and station to station in a way that made Monica simultaneously feel one step behind and inexplicably drawn towards her. It had barely been two days since they'd even met, but Darcy had a natural affinity towards befriending anyone she wanted to. It was comforting, Monica thought - and flattering, to be made an effort for. As far as she knew, Darcy mostly spent the little free time she had with either her or Jimmy.
Monica accepted the offered drink with a small smile, ignoring the way Darcy's returned grin made her stomach flutter. "Thanks. Did you get any sleep?"
Darcy shrugged, sitting down by the edge of a nearby table. Her hands were curled around her own take-away mug protectively, painted nails tapping a vague rhythm. She had dark circles under her eyes, but everyone at the base did. They didn't exactly have consistent schedules, here. "A few hours, but it's alright - I mean, after the doctorate program, sleep's become a luxury, anyway. Full night's rest? Forget it. Besides..." She looked over to where Wanda's sitcom was playing in the other room. "It's kind of addicting."
Monica leaned against the wall beside the whiteboard, arms crossed. She sipped her coffee - a latte with a hint of vanilla, how come Darcy knew? - and followed her gaze. End credits were rolling over a smiley, idyllic family portrait, and Monica could hear the faint jingle of a retro theme song carrying over. Something tugged at her chest, a memory that was barely there, of her and her mom and Carol, huddled together on the living room couch watching cartoons early in the morning. Back when Carol had been around. When they'd both been around. In retrospect, it felt like the last time anything had been even remotely stable; for all the chaos of Monica's childhood, it had a certain kind of comfort. And now... well. Now nothing made sense, and Monica was more alone than ever.
She cleared her throat, blinking the vision away. She could reminisce when she wasn't working, she decided - and when Darcy wasn't eyeing her with mild concern and curiosity. "Anything new happen since I last checked in?" Last she checked in being when she'd been kicked out of the show herself. Her back still hurt.
"Nope," Darcy said, popping the p. "I mean aside from the general wackiness. The twins aged up in like, a blink. Literally. I blinked once and they're suddenly ten. Imagine that. I guess it smooths over the rougher patches of raising kids." She nodded at the whiteboard with her chin. "Any of that making sense?"
"Sense, sure." Jimmy had done the best he could with what they had, which wasn't much. "As much as any of this makes sense." Monica let out a frustrated sigh. A minor headache was forming around her temples. She hadn't slept since being spit back from Westview. Maybe it was the exhaustion, or the way Darcy looked at her, but she found herself talking more. "This is my first assignment since getting back, you know. I appreciate the distraction, I do, but... I don't know. It's been kind of intense."
Darcy glanced at Monica, brows slightly furrowed. "Got back?" Her expression cleared before Monica could open her mouth. "Right. The Blip." She let out a low whistle. "Talk about stress. No wonder you're not sleeping."
Was it that obvious? Monica stared into her coffee, feeling weary. She worked well under stress, didn't mind high stakes, liked to prove herself. She wanted to do her job, a job she actually liked, and this, well - this was bigger than what she'd dealt with in a while, and it suited her just fine.
Still. Her mom was gone, and Monica hadn't gotten so much as a goodbye, much less time to grief. And the only other person who could've understood, could've helped, was nowhere to be seen. Monica spared a thought as to Carol's whereabouts, but abandoned the trajectory as soon as she started. Maybe it was better she wasn't here. It didn't stop the faint, permanent ache in Monica's chest. Had she been there for her mom's final moments? Did she have answers, or more questions?
She realised she'd been staring at the floor in silence for a beat too long, and met Darcy's worried gaze with a smile. "It's alright, really. I'll sleep easier when we know what's going on and how to help these people. And Wanda."
"And Wanda," Darcy echoed. She raised her mug in a salute. "I feel bad for her. Jane was a bit of a mess after Thor checked out for like, a year, and we at least knew he was probably alive. Grief's a bitch, man."
"Sure is," Monica agreed. She finished her coffee, and rubbed at her eyes. Her body was screaming at her to go to sleep, but she was too wired to rest. They'd wake her up if anything happened, but still. She wanted to be there, to help. And someone had to keep Hayward from turning the situation even more volatile than it was. The look in Wanda's eyes had told her enough. She might've let this one slide, but she wasn't giving second chances. "God. What a situation."
Darcy snorted. "Tell me about it. Free entertainment though, I guess. I should get someone to bring popcorn. We could have a movie night."
"With that horror show?" Monica asked, amused. "It's eerie to look at. Wouldn't say no to popcorn, though."
"That's settled, then," Darcy said, cheerful. She stood up, stretching until her back gave a pop. "Popcorn, you and me, probably Jimmy. He looks so sad sometimes, have you noticed? He spends too much time at that whiteboard."
"Probably," Monica agreed. She didn't mention the fact that Darcy herself was huddled by the TV or around her own equipment whenever Monica saw her, scribbling notes regardless of the time. She looked like she was itching to get back to work now, too, eyes darting over to her station every so often. She could probably use company. Jimmy wasn't the only lonely looking person at their base. Monica hesitated for a second, before asking, "Want to review some of the tapes with me, maybe get a new perspective?"
"Oh!" Darcy's face broke into a grin. She looked at Monica in a way that gave her butterflies. "Sure, yeah. That'd be great. I have chips and a protein bar, we can have a very low-budget breakfast."
"Deal," Monica said. She couldn't help but return the smile. "So long as we're splitting the protein bar."
Darcy's brightness was contagious. She tugged a strand of hair away into her beanie, and Monica's eyes traced the movement, feeling warm.
"Follow me, then," Darcy said. "And if you feel like actually resting, you can nap against my shoulder. I won't snitch."
The offer felt too good to resist. "No promises," Monica said, but she was walking beside Darcy already, their hands brushing gently.