Work Text:
The quiet “Darcy, what are you doing? It’s three o’clock in the morning,” uttered from the darkest corner of the kitchen at the bottom of the back stairs made Darcy jump. She nearly dropped the steaming pie in her hot pad-covered hands.
“Jesus, Steve.” She paused, her heart pounding, gripping the pie—her first attempt at a heart-healthier version of her daddy’s famous spiced plum pie.
Steve edged out into the light in another of his delightful smedium tees and a pair of plaid flannel PJ pants. He held his hands up, a wry smile on his face. “Sorry about that, doll,” he apologized. “But your sisters won’t be up for another three hours and your mom never came home from the hospital last night. When I smelled pie, I thought someone had left the oven on. I only beat Bucky to the top of the stairs by a few seconds. He’s checking things on the other side of the house.”
“No, no, it’s just me. I couldn’t go back to sleep.” She sniffled, remembering suddenly what got her out of bed at just after one this morning and moved her to self-comfort with healthy pie. Her lip wobbled. “Mama called a couple hours ago. Daddy took a bad turn last night. He’s back in surgery.”
“Oh, Darcy.” She only had time to set the pie on a trivet before his arms closed around her. She sank into his warmth and comfort, siphoning off as much of his steadiness as she could, trembling in his arms. “We’ll go over to the hospital first thing, if you want. I’ll get the girls ready and you can pack a bag of things your mom will need to freshen up.”
She nodded, mostly silent, trying not to get tears and snot on the soft smedium tee she loved so much on him.
“Mama said the doctors warned her he might not be out of surgery until this afternoon.” She swiped the hair out of her eyes. “I don’t know if we should wait for a call or just go over and hold Mama’s hand or what. Mama doesn’t need the girls underfoot right now, you know?” Darcy’s breath caught and she choked on a sob. She couldn’t cry now. She’d wake the twins.
Between them, Steve’s phone beeped in the pocket of his pajama pants. Impatient with the interruption, he only loosened his hold enough to check the notifications.
“It’s Friday. She says your mom texted Thor this morning, too, to keep him in the loop and Thor insisted on flying over to be with her. Thor called Dr. Cho, then, apparently. So he’s keeping your mom company and Tony flew Cho in with an Avengers medevac transport team to take your dad back to the Avengers campus for long term care once he’s out of surgery and stable, hopefully later today. It’ll be closer to the farm for you and your mom, and Tony can bring in any specialists your dad needs to our private hospital, including some military specialists he wouldn’t otherwise have access to.” Steve’s eyebrows climb his forehead as he continues reading. “Tony and Pepper are with your mom now, too.”
“Oh, that’s.” Darcy’s breath hitches again. “That's really nice of them.”
“There’s a text from Tony here, as well.” Steve’s brow furrows. “Something to worry about later,” he decides, and he’s about to put the phone away with a roll of his eyes like it’s just Tony being Tony, but it beeps with another notification. “Laura and Clint are offering to take the twins for the long weekend. Laura says to pack them some swimming gear; they’ll take them up to the lake to wear them out.”
Darcy covers her face and gives in, weeping quietly against Steve’s chest. It’s grief and gratitude all rolled into one and she just can’t hold it in anymore. She can’t.
“It’s okay, let it out, sweetheart,” Steve croons, gently caressing her back and shoulders.
So she does.
Even when the sound of bare feet and soft socks sliding across the wood floors herald others joining them, Darcy cries.
The coffeemaker clicks as someone warms it and loads a fresh filter and grounds.
The fridge opens and closes.
There’s hot, vanilla-hazelnut coffee in no time. Someone loads a tray of bacon in the oven while it’s still on and starts cracking enough eggs for two super soldiers and a few standard humans.
When the twins wake later that morning, breakfast has already been cleaned up except for the plates warming breakfast in the oven for the girls. The remains of the pie are packed up for the twins to have as a dessert after lunch and Darcy’s eyes are dry.
Natasha is the one who actually ends up packing the twins’ bags for the weekend, since she knows the kinds of things they’ll be doing at the Barton farm.
Bucky packs a bag for Darcy’s mom and sets out some things he thinks Darcy’s dad might benefit from having on hand when they pack a bag for him later to take over to the Avengers campus.
Steve moves the twins’ car seats to a family-sized SUV with third-row seating that Tony’s sent over for the Bartons to use for the weekend. Steve even wrestles Darcy’s mama’s double-jogging stroller into the small storage area in the back for Laura. Once the diaper bags are packed and loaded, everything’s done.
And for the first time in a month, there’s really, truly nothing for Darcy to do at all.
She thanks the Bartons when they arrive, hugs and kisses all around, then stays on the porch long enough to wave them off on their weekend adventure.
“Your dad is still in surgery, according to Thor,” Steve announces from the doorway. Bucky and Natasha have gone up to shower. They’ll head into town to keep an eye on things at the garden center and diner today as the new managers of each get their feet wet. “Thor says your mom says you should go back to bed for a few hours, to take a pill if you have to.”
“I will if you come with me instead of going out for a run,” Darcy wheedles, but she’s tired. There’s no heat or suggestiveness in it. She just needs to be held right now.
“Well, with my running partners gone—” he gestures in the direction of the twins and the jogging stroller headed off toward the Barton farm, “—my whole morning is free, so you’re in luck.”
“Mm,” she agrees, “the luckiest.”
But she takes the pill, too, and snuggles into the warm curve he makes around her back under the pile of bedclothes when they climb back under the covers for a few hours with the shades drawn and the drapes closed tight.
“It’s gonna be okay,” Steve murmurs into her hair, followed by a kiss to the crown of her head. She blinks sleepily around the room she’s grown up in with all of its horse toys and show ribbons tucked away and all turned into a grownup bedroom for two. Yeah, she thinks, it might be okay now.
She might be okay
For the first time in more than a month since she heard about her daddy’s heart attack, Darcy has to agree.
Everything’s gonna be alright.