Work Text:
Saying Goodbye
Darcy opened the door to see two very serious faced people in black suits standing before her.
“Shit,” she said, before she could stop herself. “Sorry, uh, I’m guessing you have something important to tell me. Why don’t you come in, sit down, and I’ll get us some coffee or something.”
“Thank you, Miss Lewis. I’m…” the man began, but Darcy cut him off.
“Dude, it is nine am on a Saturday. Coffee before speaking.” Darcy left the door open as she wandered towards the kitchen and she heard the two visitors step inside and close the door behind her. It wasn’t like she didn’t already know why they were here and what they were about to tell her. They were here to tell her that Phil Coulson was dead.
The majority of her was certain that if her father was actually died that it would be Fury who came to see her and not two random agents, but there was always that small part of her that worried that this time it was for real. To sooth her nerves, Darcy attempted to count how many times she’d been told that Phil Coulson was dead or MIA. The ridiculous number did great things for the vastly logical part of her brain, but that one quivering part of her was not mollified. Darcy didn’t have a serving tray so she took them their cups of coffee and laid the sugar and creamer along with a couple of spoons out on the living room coffee table.
When she was comfortably seated; both of them sat forward, it took everything Darcy had not to roll her eyes and give away that she’d done this about seventeen times before and every time was the same as the last. Well, except for the agents and one other detail. Every time the agents were sent with a different name. None of these agents had the clearance to know who her father was. One year she had been the sole relation to Michael Lewis, another year her father had been Clark Lewis. Darcy tried to remember them all Gilbert Lewis, Robert Lewis, and (possibly her personal favorite) Carroll Lewis. Really, didn’t these agents pay any attention to what they were saying?
“We’re very sorry to inform you that your father, Jerry Lewis, was mortally wounded in recent…” the woman said, but Darcy was pretty sure she’d heard enough.
She nearly choked laughing on the name Fury had picked this time, but she did manage to get the words out. “I know what you’re about to say and I don’t need to hear it. I don’t want to hear what happened. I don’t want to hear that he was a hero. I already know that stuff and it doesn’t… Dammit, just, did he leave me a letter?”
The two exchanged glances and one of them reached into the inside pocket of his jacket.
“He left this in case something happened to him. It was found in his personal effects,” the woman said as the man handed Darcy the letter.
The man picked up where the woman had stopped, “Miss Lewis, we’re very sorry for your loss and we’d like you to know that if you’d like to talk…” Darcy figured there was more, but she’d heard a ridiculously similar speech before and she found herself cutting the man off again.
“Let me read the letter, please,” she said as kindly as she could muster. The letter, more than likely would let her know if she really had lost her father.
My Dearest Philippa, (Darcy sighed in relief. It was always a good sign if he was using her first name)
If you’re reading this, then I’ve gone away and I haven’t gotten to say goodbye. I want you to know that I love you and that I’ll be watching over you, always. Keep looking after Jane, she needs you. Remember the things I taught you. Forgive me for not being around more often and, sweetheart, I’m so proud of you.
Call your mother.
I love you.
Darcy nearly laughed, but since these two needed to continue to think her father was dead and that she wasn’t a complete loony, she did manage to contain it. Time to put her game face back on.
“Agents, thank you. Whichever of you is the grief counselor, leave your card on the table. I may want to talk to you later, but right now I’d really like to be alone.”
“All right, Miss Lewis,” the man said. “We’re here for you if you need anything.”
“Thank you,” she said.
The agents left then and Darcy read the letter again making sure she hadn’t missed anything. “I’ve gone away” meant that his death had been faked, though she had a feeling he had actually been hurt this time, because if he’d said “I’m not with you anymore” she’d have known he was on an undercover assignment he couldn’t explain. “I didn’t get to say goodbye” meant that she couldn’t tell anyone he was okay (well duh). The watching over her meant that he was still keeping tabs on her (insert eye roll). The rest of the letter was pretty straightforward, no translation needed, except the last bit about calling her mother which meant that she could read her mother the letter. They might have been divorced, but they were still on good terms and it was a relief to Darcy if she didn’t have to pretend to her mother when they were in private that her father was dead.
When she was off the phone with her mother who had said, “I’m sorry honey, I know this isn’t easy for you. Let me know if I can help. I could stay with you for a bit if you want.” She was thankful for her mom’s offer, but that wasn’t what she needed. She needed to know how long her father would be gone and then she needed to immerse herself in Jane’s work.
Getting The Director on the phone was never an easy thing to do, but thanks to the fact that she was Coulson’s daughter, she did at least have a more direct route.
“Hill,” a curt female voice said over the line.
“Get me Fury,” Darcy said.
“Oh Darcy,” Maria said. “Did you just hear?”
“Yes, were you there?” Darcy wanted to know.
“I can't say much, you know that," Maria said.
"Look, did this have something to do with that business in New York a few days ago?”
“It was more about what lead up to it.”
“And I won’t be getting any more information that, will I?”
Darcy thought she could hear Maria smile through the phone when she said, “I’m afraid that’s all I can say. Maybe Fury will say more.”
“Yes, and maybe tomorrow I’ll have tea with the Queen of England.”
Maria actually did chuckle then. “Not outside the realm of possibility.”
“Thor turned out to be real and very hot so, yes, I suppose anything is possible.”
“Hang tight, I’m sure the director has a moment for you,” Maria told her.
It wasn’t long before Fury’s voice met Darcy’s ear. “Miss Lewis, I take it you’ve heard the news. You know I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“I know you must miss having him around too.”
“He was always my good eye.”
“When can I bury him?”
“Give us a few days. We’ll take care of all the arrangements.”
“That would be really helpful,” Darcy paused. “Can I ask what happened?”
“It’s a shame people will never know what he did for not just the country but the whole world. His sacrifice was… Well, he helped save the world. Again.”
Even knowing her dad was alive somewhere and that she would be seeing him in a few days, Darcy couldn’t help but choke up a little. She made sure that it was not audible in her voice when she spoke next. “Sounds like him. Bastard always was country and world first.”
“Is there anything else you need Miss Lewis?”
“Take great care with him. We may have had our differences but he’s my father.”
“Nothing less for a great man.”
“Thank you.” Darcy hung up then. She sighed thankful to hear that it would only be a few days before her father would appear alive and well again. Last time Fury had told her it was a cremation and Coulson had been under cover for the better part of year. Darcy tucked the letter into the lock box she kept under the Brussels sprouts in the freezer (she had to wear gloves to get it out because it got so cold, but no one ever wanted frozen Brussels sprouts). Pretending her father was dead for a few days wouldn’t be so bad. She smiled. Yeah, she could handle that.