Chapter Text
Clint had suspicions about it since the moment he met her. Her voice was oddly familiar, as if he'd heard it before when he knew that was impossible; she was humming that godawful song that had been stuck in his head for a week. When she smiled, his chest did something strange that he didn't like, so he spent most of his time on the range or sparing...Anywhere she wasn't. Then there was the way his jeans grew tighter when she tried to keep cool in summer by wearing shorts and vests, or harmlessly flirted with him over breakfast. Truth is, he'd never looked forward to Steve's rubbery pancakes more. It was how when she was sat next to him, squashed into his side because Thor took up a lot of room, his thoughts were filled with the sensation of her body pressed against his...the dreams he'd woken up from in a cold sweat.
The team would be watching a movie and she would make a comment about stupid people running up the stairs instead of out the door, at the same time that the very same thought popped into his head. They'd both roll their eyes at a sappy scene, scream the same insults at the umpires on game day. It could be a coincidence, they were both known for being sarcastic shits. Or she could be the voice inside in his head. His soulmate.
It wasn't until later that Darcy figured it out. She assumed that the sudden urge to workout was just another healthy phase that had been brought on by living with superheroes, and that it would fade out like her last one. She found herself talking to inanimate objects, wearing more purple and considering the structural integrity of the vent above her bed while she tried to sleep. She'd have dreams of him, his arms wrapped around her body and his mouth on her skin. She'd wake with a start, on the cusp of orgasm, his name on her lips. She'd never denied that she found him attractive - really damn attractive - but this was ridiculous and crushing on an Avenger would leave in her pieces in the end.
It was around the time that Jane's lab was attacked that she figured it out. There he was, flinging arrows around like freaking Legolas and she was keeping Jane in the panic room. Only one of the goons had managed to get past Clint - because one man cannot fight an army - and was heading towards Jane's hard drive. Darcy was out of the panic room before she could think about it, just as Thor and Steve showed up. Just as a bullet grazed her arm. Just as both she and Clint grabbed their biceps with a shouted "fuck!"
Oh. Well, she gets it now.
Nobody knows where soulmates come from. Many people believe that it's all a hoax, some urban legend. A lot of people never find their soulmate, because it really is a proximity thing. Say you drove from New York to Vegas. You could hit Ohio and be bombarded with all these thoughts and feelings that weren't yours...You've been allergic to peanuts your entire life, but you're driving through a small town in Ohio and you're craving Reeses. As soon as you're out of Dodge, the craving, the thoughts and the feelings just leave. You never want Reeses again and your soulmate never has the urge to blow all their money in Caesars Palace.
It was like a dollar store walkie-talkie. The closer you were, the stronger, louder it all was. But that was it. Just thoughts, just noise. There were urges that were shared...If one person hadn't eaten in three days then the other would feel hungry too, but it was still all mental. The second person couldn't actually die from starvation like the first could.
Some lucky ones end up in love with their soulmate. Some stay friends...some hate each other. There are people who travel the world, hoping to find even an inkling of someone else inside their head. The Department for Soulmate Study (DSS, because didn't the world need another alphabet agency?) was set up back in the seventies, when people were all about free love and whatever. They can't really do anything to help you find your soulmate, because that would mean making everyone on the planet stand still while they walked someone around. They run tests on pairs who have found each other, singles who haven't. They discovered that not all pairs were romantic, that platonic soulmates were real and that was okay. They try to understand how and why this happens, and document anything new.
Darcy was pretty sure she'd be having a call from them some time soon.
She'd passed out for a little...both from the shock of realising that Clint was her soulmate and hitting her head as she dropped to the floor to avoid being shot again. Darcy had woken up in Medical with Jane in her room.
The doctor Tony had sent for told Darcy that she had a concussion and should be monitored for the next day or so. She'd also been grazed by a bullet, which is what she and Clint felt before she ducked for cover. Luckily for Darcy, Justin Hammer hires goons that can't shoot for shit, so all she had for that was some ointment, a bandage and a bottle of wicked pain killers. Oh, and she'd have a pretty neat scar too.
Her shirt sleeve was bloody and torn, so Jane had brought a baggy sweater for her. She still wasn't back from the coffee store, but the doctor said that Darcy could leave as soon as someone was there to make sure she didn't pass out again. She sat fiddling with a loose thread on her jeans while she waited.
"Oh, um, I can come back-" Clint was in the doorway, stepping backwards with an apology. Darcy grabbed for the sweater and pulled it over her vest, motioning for him to come in.
"No it's fine, come in."
"I've spoke to the DSS" he said, straight to the point and avoiding her eye line.
"So what's the verdict?" She asked, shifting and tried to hide her wince. The way his eyes narrows on her arm and his fists clenched told her she hadn't been as subtle as she would have liked to be. She'd been shot, give her a break!
"The experts are...baffled" he smiled sheepishly and scrubbed his head with his palm. "They have no idea why I was able to feel it when you were hit."
"Isn't that wonderful" Darcy grumbled under her breath. "So what now?"
"I'm leaving tomorrow." He shrugged, as if to say 'no big deal'. It most certainly was a big deal. A very big deal.
"You can't leave now!" Darcy protested. He held up a hand and she stopped whatever argument was about to come flying out of her mouth. It wasn't so much the hand but the pained look on his face that shut her up.
"They said that whatever has happened with us, there's only been a few cases of it before...people who have grown up together, and have no idea that they're...that they're soulmates" his voice broke over the word, as if he couldn't quite believe it. To be honest, neither could Darcy. "The DSS said that it's likely that it happened because we hadn't acknowledged the bond after months of living in the same building."
"So the universe got tired of waiting and gave us a kick. Why does that mean you have to leave?" She really didn't like how...ruined he looked over this, or how quiet and broken her voice sounded. She had to focus on her voice because she couldn't see her own face, but she was fairly positive that she wore a similar look to his.
"I get beat up practically every day" he snapped, shocking Darcy into a stiff silence. "If this happened because we were close and not doing anything about it, I can't...I can't risk that you'll be able to feel everything that happens to me. Saving the world? You get hit pretty badly. I can't count the number of times that I've been shot, stabbed or sent flying by an explosion. Darcy, I jump off buildings! And what about when I'm not fighting? When I'm sparring and Natasha winds me? Or if I nick myself cleaning arrows? You didn't sign up for this, I'm not going to let myself hurt you because of a platonic soul bond. If I leave, if I'm far away, we'll stop feeling it."
"Platonic?" She whimpered. He made a very strong case; his job was risky and she didn't want either of them to get hurt because of the other but...Platonic? She hadn't thought that they were platonic.
"Yeah" he sighed. "The people who were able to feel each other before, it didn't stop for them. They were platonic and they spent their entire lives being able to feel each and every touch, hit and caress the other got. It got too much for them, so they moved away from each other. There hasn't been a recorded pairing like this who were romantic, did you know that? Well, I guess you didn't." His head hung low, eyes downcast.
"And you think that we're platonic? You're not...interested?"
"Well, you're not, so whether I am doesn't really matter" he cocked a smile, one of his easy going ones that never failed to make her smile back. Until now, because the grin he sent her was forced and not quite right.
She stood from the bed and walked over to him. Standing in front of him, she raised her uninjured arm and pressed her fingers on her wound. She winced and gasped with the pain and Clint shot up from his seat to stand in front of her. There was barely an inch between their bodies. It was a very long shot, but she was probably high on painkillers and bordering on desperate. She had a hunch and she was going with it.
"What the hell are you doing?!" He roared and yanked her hand away, inspecting the bandage.
"Did you feel that?" Darcy asked, the lingering pain making her words weak and her voice breathy.
He looked her in the eyes, his calculating gaze slowly morphing into something different that Darcy couldn't name as he figured out what she was showing him. He hadn't felt it...Whatever it was between them had cut out. They'd never be certain, but based on the other pairs and themselves, she figured that romantic soulmates stopped feeling everything once they acknowledged the bond. Clint came to the same conclusion.
He kissed her then, starting slow but not staying that way. It was hot and passionate and downright sinful until Jane cleared her throat from the doorway.
"So you'll stick around?" Darcy asked, doe eyes boring into his, daring him to say no.
"Until you ask me to leave" he promised. Now wasn't the right time, but one day she'd make sure to tell him that she'd never ask him to leave.
"Does this mean that we're the first?" She laughed and glanced at the doorway, noticing Jane's retreating figure and the coffee she'd left behind.
"Darlin', I think we've made history."