Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was snowing again like it had been all week. The white flakes floated past her window covering the world in a thick white coat, growing deeper and deeper with every passing minute. There was already a foot of new snow on the ground, by the time this was over there would likely be two. Maybe more. Darcy frowned, her hands tightening around her steaming cup of cocoa. Maybe Vermont had been a bad idea.

Pulling herself away from the window Darcy shuffled along in her oversized slippers and checked the pantry. Still plenty of food. Rows and rows of canned soups and vegetables, enough to last her months if she had to. Lots of the Poptarts she could no long bring herself to eat. Plenty of rice and beans and everything else a girl needed to survive. There was even a tall row of canned dog food and an extra bag of kibble for Bear. Even if the snow continued and it took a while for the roads to clear she’d be fine. Thank God for the preparedness of Stark Industries. There was no way she would have had such a stockpile if left on her own.

Darcy shuffled over to the fire and added another log before curling up onto the couch. Bear raised his head and looked at her before laying back down, his interest in his new human forgotten as she picked up a paperback and began to read. The crackle of the fire and her own breath echoed through the tiny log cabin. Once Darcy would have put on music. She’d always been bored by silence, preferring to fill it up with noise and excitement, or even the sound of her own voice to pass the time.

That was before. Before the Snap. Before she’d watched in horror as Jane and Erik dissolved into ash right in front of her eyes. Before her powers emerged and she found it impossible to be around people anymore.

She had read once that extreme stress had a way of bringing undiscovered mutant powers to the surface. It turned out that was true.

Not that she’d be joining the X-Men anytime soon.

Next to the fire Bear yawned heavily, got up, and stretched. His toenails tapped on the wood floor as he padded over to Darcy and thrust his head onto her lap. He was a beast of a canine, a purebred Bernese mountain dog who’d once been her Grandfather’s pride and joy. This cabin had once been her Grandfather’s as well. His beloved hunting retreat where he’d returned year after year to hunt deer and spend some time being a ‘real man.’ He was gone now. Snapped. The neighbors had found Bear, barking frantically, in a storm of ash. Now everything that had once been her Grandfather’s was hers. She’d been the only one left to inherit.

Darcy looked out the window again, frowning at the still falling snow. She reached down and scratched Bear behind the ears. “Give it another couple minutes. I know you don’t mind the snow, but it’s really coming down out there.”

Bear huffed at her and jumped up on the other end of the couch. He laid down, eyes on the window and the snow outside.

Going back to her book, Darcy turned the page. Little Women. She’d read it before, dozens of times, but there was something soothing about reading it again. For one thing there was no lies in it. Fiction was fiction. Because it was all fake there were no lies to be found, nothing to trigger her powers. That had been a relief to discover. Locked in her apartment in Stark Tower just after the Snap, Darcy had been horrified to find that nearly everything around her was enough to cause her new powers to go out of wack. The 24 hour news cycle where reporters pretended outrage to gain viewers. Radio hosts who told fake stories just for the entertainment of their listeners. Even music, a singer crooning about some feeling that was a lie to connect with their listeners. All of it was just an exercise in torture.

It turned out that people lied pretty much all the time. Even a simple trip to the grocery store had been enough to trigger her newfound powers. Asking someone how they were doing and getting the polite “Good,” response was enough to send a sear of pain through her skull. Empty compliments gave her migraines. It didn’t matter if the lie was big or small. “I did not have sexual relations with that woman” caused her just as much agony as the little white “I love your shoes!”

It wasn’t fair. Other mutants got laser eyes, telekinesis, or flight. Darcy Lewis had been transformed into a human lie detector.

In another life she might have gone into the law. Become the world’s greatest detective who’d always know when a criminal was lying to her. Or maybe she would have worked for the IRS, tracking down tax evaders and making the one percent pay their share. Instead, she’d decided on Computer Science. She was okay at it and with her powers it wasn’t like she could go into her previous choice of Poly Sci. Turns out there were lots of liars in politics.

Stark had been kind enough to keep her on the payroll even as she struggled her way through learning how to code properly. In the past she’d dabbled, she’d even been good at it sometimes, but actually learning how things were supposed to be was a challenge. Darcy had never been good at conforming. Stark had also sent someone to collect Bear from her Grandpa’s neighbors and fix up the cabin for her. She’d let him baby her without complaining knowing it was just Stark’s way of saying that he was sorry about Jane. When a polite smile was enough of a lie to send pain shooting through her brain Darcy knew she couldn’t be around people until she got her powers under control.

If she could ever get them under control.

“It should all be ready for you,” Stark had said at their last meeting. He’d been careful to school his features, doing his best to not do anything that could trigger an attack. “We fixed the roof, added some installation, painted, and upgraded the kitchen. The dish on the roof should be enough to let you work remotely and also gets you all the cable channels.”

He’d smiled at her. Darcy didn’t smile back. She couldn’t watch TV anymore. An actor whispering “I love you” to a costar was usually a lie. Only the fiction of books was distant enough to not cause her pain.

Tony’s smile had flickered and then faded. She was grateful that he hadn’t tried to force the smile to continue for her sake. It would have been a lie. “I wish you would have let me install a furnace,” he had said instead. “I installed a second stove and hooked you up with some wood, but I’d feel better if you weren’t living like an Amish person all winter.”

“I have a laptop and all the channels. There’s not much Amish about that,” Darcy had said. She didn’t say that the reason why she didn’t want a furnace installed was because she didn’t want the cabin changed too much. Her Grandfather was gone. Everyone who’d been Snapped was gone. Yet it still felt weird changing his beloved cabin so much without his permission.

She had gone back to her apartment and packed slowly. Folding and refolding her belongings as she debated what to bring. Luckily most of her wardrobe was a natural fit for Vermont. Her large collection of shapeless sweaters, jackets, and knit beanies would fit in perfectly there. Pepper had promised her that Bear would be waiting for her at the door when she arrived. It was all arranged. A place she could go, a refuge where she could escape from the never ending lies of the world.

So why did she cry herself to sleep that night?

*****

Thor had been there when she’d finally packed the car to leave. The car had been another gift from Stark. A big SUV that usually she would have balked at but knew she’d need in Vermont. She’d need the weight and the four-wheel drive in the winter. He’d even converted it to electric, powering it with a baby arc reactor so she wouldn’t have to worry about gas or emissions. She would have been touched if she hadn’t felt so exiled.

She’d just put in the last of her boxes and slammed the back door shut when Thor cleared his throat. “Lady Darcy.”

She’d turned. Thor had looked awful, somehow deflated and pale. He smiled at her weakly and Darcy felt the pulse of pain in the back of her mind. A lie. Thor didn’t have anything to smile about. She forgave him instantly though, knowing how hard he’d taken the news that Jane was gone. The two of them had broken up, but they’d still loved each other. After losing all of Asgard and his family Thor had returned to Earth just in time to lose Jane too. It had to be hard.

Thor had stared at her uselessly for a long moment before opening his arms. She hadn’t needed an invitation. Darcy ran to him, throwing herself into his arms and letting him crush her into a tight embrace as she did her best to hug him back.

“I’m sorry,” Thor whispered against her hair. (Truth.) His voice was low and gravelly, breath almost hitching as he held her tight.

“I’m sorry too,” she whispered back, tears pricking at her eyes. That had also been the truth.

*****

Bear raised his head, looking at her, and whined gently. She sighed. “I swear, you love snow more than you love me,” Darcy said, setting her book aside. Bear perked up the instant her feet hit the floor, tail wagging madly as he jumped off the couch. He was an older dog so he didn’t dance around her like a puppy would, but his entire body screamed excitement. He panted at her, tail wagging as he followed her to the door.

The only thing that Bear ever did with his body was tell her exactly what he was thinking. That was the nice thing about animals. They didn’t lie.

Darcy cracked open the door and Bear darted through, bounding into the drifts of snow without a care. She smiled at him, watching him roll and bite at the snow before closing the door again. It was freezing outside. Bear might not have minded with that heavy fur coat of his, but she did. Shivering she shoved the door shut and headed for the kitchen.

The stove Stark had his people install was a huge stainless steel monstrosity that would have looked better in an industrial kitchen then in her tiny log cabin. She had a feeling someone had picked it because it was expensive and hadn’t considered anything else. That would be just like Stark. He probably didn’t even cook his own meals. In the end though it was fine. The stove might have been twice the size she needed, but it was gas and she never had to worry about burner room on the thing. She started a saucepan of milk on low for more hot chocolate before going to the fridge and wondering what she should make for dinner.

Bear started to bark outside. Silly dog. She was glad one of them was having fun.

Darcy pulled out a chicken from the fridge and eyed it wearily. She’d purchased it the last time she’d braved town, going in for fresh food and nothing else in her massive SUV. She’d been feeling ambitious when she bought it, thinking of roast chicken with potatoes and lots of thick, rich gravy. Now that it was in her fridge her ambition had flown and now it was just a thing she had to cook but didn’t want to. Darcy checked the date. Well it was going to be chicken tonight or she was going to have to freeze it. Her freezer was already stuffed full of other thwarted ambitions. Best to just bite the bullet and cook it now.

Sighing at the chicken, Darcy tossed it onto the counter and tried to figure out what else to do with it. Soup sounded good, but it would take forever. Maybe she should just roast it after all. Actually, what she really wanted was Chinese but rural Vermont was not well known for their abundance of authentic Asian restaurants. Besides, it was still snowing. She didn’t want to drive in that unless she had to.

Darcy glanced out the window and froze when she didn’t see Bear. That wasn’t like him. Usually he was happy to play in the clearing in front of the cabin until she finally dragged him back inside, covered in snow but happy. Forgetting about dinner she went to the window and peered out. The yard was empty but she could hear him barking in the distance.

Barely remembering to turn off the stove Darcy went to the cabin door and opened it. “Bear!” she shouted out into the silent snow. Leaning out she whistled and clapped her hands. “Come here boy!”
Bear barked again, the sound still echoing in from far away.

Frowning, Darcy called for him again and then a third time in vain. Cursing she shut the door and kicked off her slippers. Pulling on her boots and coat she stepped out into the snow. “Bear!” she shouted again, winding a scarf around her neck. “Bear get back here!” The barking continued, still far away and distant. Whatever it was that had drawn him away from the cabin still had his entire attention.

“Stupid dog,” Darcy muttered and trudged out into the snow.

It was deep, coming up well over her boots and soaking through her sweat pants almost instantly. Darcy cursed again under her breath, shoving her gloved hands deep in her pockets as she followed Bear’s footprints into the woods. Under the trees the snow was lighter, but only just. The world seemed to pause, sounds muting as Darcy trudged through the snow. More than once she glanced behind herself, checking to make sure that she could still see her footprints and cabin off in the distance. In the strange atmosphere of the forest she almost expected to see them gone, her trail of breadcrumbs snatched away by opportune birds.

Bear had gone silent but his footprints were still there in the snow. She followed them, feet crunching through snowpack and shouting his name as she went. Deeper and deeper she went into the forest until she came to the ravine. In the summer the ravine was just a bit of steep terrain with a creek at the bottom. Now that it was winter it looked like a death trap of ice and snow. Darcy hesitated at the edge, frowning at Bear’s footprints heading down.

“Bear!” she shouted, voice echoing through the silent forest. “Bear! Come here boy!”

From down in the ravine Darcy heard Bear bark again. She peered through the trees, still frowning as she spotted Bear barking and whining at something down below. The trees were closer together in the ravine, the light was dimmer and poor. She couldn’t exactly make out what it was besides that it was on the far side of a tree and upsetting Bear.

Darcy glanced over her shoulder again. Her footsteps were still there and she could faintly see the glow of her cabin through the branches. “He better not have found anything dead,” Darcy growled. Grabbing a nearby tree trunk she half-walked, half-slid her way down the slope.

Bear greeted her at the bottom, whining loudly as he thrust his head into her hands and looked up at her with big brown eyes. “What’s wrong you stupid mutt?” she asked, ruffling his snow crusted fur. Bear just barked at her again, turning and running back towards the dark shape under the tree. He looked back at her, whining again and Darcy sighed, trudging after him.

“What is-“ Darcy started and stopped. Her breath caught in her throat as her heart began to pound.

A dead body sat under the tree.

Slumped and limp it sat there, the tree trunk it was propped against the only thing keeping it upright. Its bowed head and naked male torso almost seemed to shine blue in the dim light under the pine canopy. There was no telling how long the body had been there. The snow around it was untouched beyond Bear’s footprints. A thick layer of snow covered the body’s lap and shoulders. But from the glimpses of tattered clothing Darcy could see under the snow she thought that the body had to have been there for a while. Maybe months. Maybe longer.

“Fuck.” Darcy shoved her hands in her pockets and cursed again when she realized she didn’t have her cell phone. Not that there was great coverage out at the cabin, but still she had to call someone about this. Get the sheriff out here so they could take the body away and return it to whoever was missing their person. If anyone was missing them. Maybe the poor bastard had come out here and killed himself after losing everyone in the Snap. She’d heard of people doing that. She’d even considered it herself.

Whining loudly, Bear trotted towards the body. “Bear, no!” Darcy yelped, grabbing for his collar, but he ignored her and shoved his face up against the body’s chest, pawing at an arm and whining loudly as his tail wagged. “No, no, no!” Darcy hissed, grabbing at him. She pulled, straining to move 100 pounds of pure muscle and fur. “No touching the dead body! The last thing we need is-“

The body stirred, head rising up. A sheet of snow fell off dark, greasy black hair as the face lifted towards her. Darcy shrieked and fell, scrambling backwards in the snow as the not-so-dead body blinked at her. His eyes were red. Red like the sun just before it set. Red like blood. They nearly glowed in the faint light, glazed and unfocused as the body stared at her.

Bear barked, jumping around the man and whining pathetically. Blinking again the figure looked at the dog and his gaze seemed to focus a little. His eyes drifted shut again and with a little sigh the body slumped once more.

Darcy stared at him a long moment, eyes wide and practically holding her breath as she waited for the body to move again. When he didn’t she swallowed heavily and slowly got to her feet. “Hello?” she said, voice wobbling as she took a step towards the man. “Mr Dead Guy?”

Reaching out with a single gloved finger she prodded the body. The man let out a little grunt but did not stir. From this angle she could see that his chest was rising and falling shallowly, but besides that he didn’t move. From here she could also see that he was blue. Like not from cold, but actually blue. His skin was darker then sapphire, strange ridges and valleys covering his skin like biologic tribal tattoos. He was an alien. A blue one. And somehow he’d gotten himself lost in her woods. 

Some of Darcy’s best friends were aliens. Well, just Thor; but this guy being an alien wasn’t enough of a reason to just let him freeze to death in the snow. Reaching out again she firmly shook his shoulder. She could feel the chill of him radiate up through her glove. He was absolutely freezing. How long could he survive being this cold?

“Hey you, wake up.” He didn't move. Didn’t even flinch as she shook him, head bowed and slack. She tried to pull him away from the tree and couldn’t. He seemed to be stuck somehow and when Darcy dug down through the snow to see why she found that the alien had been tied to the tree by a thick rope low against his waist. His hands were bound tightly in front of him, the wrists black and raw from his struggles. 

So maybe he wasn’t lost. It looked like someone had done this to him. Darcy wasn’t sure what to think about that. It didn’t matter though. Not right now. She couldn’t just let him freeze to death in the snowy forest and that meant bringing him back to her cabin and warming him up no matter what. 

Bear whined at her, brown eyes pleading as he wagged his tail slowly. “Don’t worry,” Darcy reassured him. “I’ll be right back.”

Turning, she ran back to her cabin, taking the ridge on all fours as she practically crawled up the steep embankment. Her footsteps were still clearly visible in the snow and she followed them quickly back to the cabin. Bursting in through her door she dashed to the kitchen, grabbing a knife, then ran to the wood stove and shoved another two logs on the fire. She did the same to the smaller stove in her bedroom, yanking a blanket off her bed before racing back outside. 

She was already out of breath by the time she got to her Grandpa’s old shed. Darcy wheezed on frigid air, kicking aside snow until the door was open enough for her to squeeze through. The shed had no power, but there was enough fading sunlight coming through the door to see. She grabbed the snow shoes from the wall, quickly strapping them to her feet. They were too big, sized for her Grandfather, but they’d work. She grabbed some rope down from the wall then hesitated looking until she spotted the harness. 

Her Grandfather hadn’t been a proud man. But he hadn’t been opposed to occasionally bragging either. Darcy could remember a Thanksgiving, well before the snap, when Grandpa has been pleased as punch bragging about how great Bear was on a hunt. How the dog would lay at his feet, silent as a mouse, in their little deer blind, not even stirring, until Grandpa took the shot and the buck went down. That was when the real excitement for the dog came. Grandpa would harness up Bear with a little sled and, after field dressing the deer, Bear would proudly haul the carcass all the way back to the cabin. Darcy didn’t know how a full grown alien would measure up weight wise to a dead white tail, but it was worth a shot. Grabbing the leather harness and the sled, Darcy headed for the door. 

Her tracks were somehow harder to follow, heading back into the woods. The snow fall had increased, the twilight lengthening as the cloud covered sun began to dip below the horizon. Squinting through the rapidly approaching dark Darcy wished she had remembered to bring a flashlight. But if she turned back now she might never find the path back to the alien and her dog. 

Darcy found the ridge by falling down it, yelping as her feet slipped out beneath her and she tumbled into the snow. Rolling down the hill she cursed as she hit the bottom, unhurt but covered in snow. Bear ran over, whining and licking her cheek as she struggled upright. “I’m fine,” she told the dog. “Now where’s our new friend?”

Grabbing up everything she had dropped, Darcy trudged over to the alien. He was just as she’d left him, limp and unresponsive but still breathing. That his chest continued to rise and fall had to be a good sign. Pulling out the knife, and glad she hadn’t stabbed herself in her tumble, Darcy walked around to the back of the tree and dug down through the snow until she found the ropes. They were tight, she could barely get a grip on them, but she carefully sawed away until the ropes frayed and snapped. The alien fell forward with a sigh, collapsing fully into the snow. 

Darcy hurried back around, picking up the harness and calling for Bear. The dog yipped in delight, standing stock still as Darcy knelt down and buckled it down around him. Trotting over to the sled Bear sat down at looked at her expectantly. At least that was going to be easy. Bear seemed to know what his job was already and was looking forward to it, the silly dog. 

Now the hard bit. Darcy wrapped her blanket around the alien. His tattered clothes fell apart in scraps as she wrapped him and he moaned lowly at her touch though his eyes didn’t open. At last she had him as covered as she could make him and she stepped back, reaching for the sled before she paused. In the dim light, the alien’s head no longer bowed, she could finally see his face. It was delicate and thin with high cheekbones and a pointed nose. But that’s not drew her attention. No, her gaze went and stayed on his lips. Someone had sewn them shut with thick black thread. 

A pang went through Darcy’s chest. Someone had sewn the alien’s mouth shut and tied him to a tree in the snow. That wasn’t right. That wasn’t fair. He would have no way of freeing himself while bound, no way to call for help. If she hadn’t let Bear out to find him he just would have slowly frozen to death in the cold night. Nobody would have found him until spring. Maybe he never would have been found. 

There’s was also something she vaguely remembered about sewing a person’s mouth shut, but she pushed that thought away and grabbed the sled. She could figure it out once they were both indoors and warm. Rolling the alien on the sled she tightly tied him to it using the holes her Grandpa had drilled into the sides. Bear was already there waiting when she was done, his tail wagging as Darcy grabbed the sled’s line and clipped it to his harness.

Glancing over the alien Darcy nodded. It was as good as it was going to get. “Let’s go Bear.”

With the sound of his name Bear leapt to his feet and started pulling. At first it looked like he wouldn’t be able to budge the sled, feet digging through the snow but finding no traction. Yes as Darcy leaned down to help push the sled began to move. 

Slowly the two of them made their way back to the cabin. Getting up the ravine took nearly an hour, Bear panting and steaming under the weight as Darcy crawled behind them, pushing at the bottom of the sled or the alien’s feet to help. By the time they reached the cabin it was pitch black, the friendly glow of her lights the only illumination as they wove the sled between the trees. 

Bear pulled the sled to the front of the door and laid down with a huff. “Good dog,” Darcy muttered, giving him a quick scratch. Shouldering open the front door Darcy felt herself shiver as she looked down at the alien at her feet. Bear has gotten him this far. Now it was her turn. 

Untying him, Darcy grabbed ahold of the blanket with numb fingers and slowly pulled him into the cabin. Things were easier as soon as she got him inside, the blanket slipping easily over the smooth wood floors. Originally she’d planned to try and get the alien into her bed, but gave up on that idea as soon as she slipped on the puddles of melting snow she’s dragged in. If she could barely get the alien into her house, there was no way she could get him into her bed. She kicked off her boots, unharnessed Bear and shut the door, locking the cold out with a satisfying click.

Dragging the alien in front of the fire, Darcy pulled the sodden blanket from him. The rest of his clothes went with it and she flushed slightly. The strange ridges went all the way down she noted with fascination before looking away. She was pretty sure her new guest wouldn’t appreciate her ogling him while he was naked and unconscious. Instead she went to the bathroom, stripped, quickly changed into her pajamas, and grabbed a stack of towels. Sitting next to him by the fire she carefully dried him off before wrapping him tightly in her Grandfather’s thick wool blanket. It was the scratchiest thing in existence but it was thick and warm. Besides, wool was the thing for when you were wet and cold. 

Covering him with all remaining blankets in the house Darcy tucked a pillow under his head and surveyed her work. The alien’s chest continued to rise and fall though he didn’t look any better. His eyes remained closed, his color staying blue as he laid there, unmoving. Darcy’s fingers itched to do something about the stitches that held his mouth shut but resisted the temptation. From the crusted blood that lined his lips it looked like his mouth had been sewn shut for a while. Taking out the stitches would hurt and the last thing she wanted was for her guest to wake up naked and in pain in a strange place. It might give him the wrong impression. Better to wait until he woke up, when she had the chance to explain herself and get his consent before removing them. 

Instead she dried off Bear then wandered back into the kitchen. Exhausted and no longer hungry she put the chicken away again before finishing her hot chocolate. She poured it into a mug and curled up on the couch.

The alien had shifted while she was in the kitchen, his face turned toward the fire. She thought that was a good sign. Setting down her mug on the end table, Darcy grabbed her Stark laptop and flipped it open. 

What to do with her unexpected guest? Well, she couldn’t turn him over to the regular police, that was for sure. While the whole world knew that aliens existed that wasn’t the same as accepting them in the general population. Thor was still struggling to find his remaining people a home on Earth and for all intents and purposes Asgardians looked human. Whatever race this alien was he was blue with creepy red eyes. He wouldn’t exactly blend into a crowd.

SHEILD was probably the people to contact to collect him and yet Darcy hesitated. If she called SHEILD now they’d probably dispatch someone to her cabin immediately. They’d be here within an hour, packing up her alien visitor and taking him who knows where. She’d never find out his name, who he was, or how he’d gotten out into the woods in the first place. She’d never learn who’d sewn his lips shut. Darcy was many things and curious was one of them. The blue alien was her first and only guest since obtaining her lie detecting powers. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to keep him around a bit longer.

At least until he started lying to her.

Biting her lip Darcy hesitated. She looked up at the alien and saw that Bear had curled up beside him. The big dog was curled up against the alien’s back, eyes closed and tail gently thumping in his sleep. If Bear liked him he couldn’t be all that bad, Darcy reasoned. She couldn’t give up her guest quite yet.

Putting her laptop away she stood and went into her bedroom. Opening the smaller stove she banked the fire, covering the wood with ash to keep the coals nice and warm for the morning. Grabbing an extra blanket from her closet she tossed it onto the couch and did the same for the main fire, adding a few more logs to get more of a smolder and heat for the night. The blue alien looked to be sound asleep, his face almost relaxed as he laid between flame and dog. His chest rose and fell evenly and his color may have even improved. If by improving it meant he’d gone more blue than before. The sort of ashy undertone his skin had held was gone and now he was a blue as a blueberry. Tucking the blankets tightly around him Darcy regarded him carefully and wondered what he was. She’d have to google it in the morning.

Fire banked Darcy went around the house turning off the lights and making sure all the doors were locked. You could take a city girl and put her in the country but you’d never get rid of her sense of caution. Unlocked doors meant no stopping strangers. Not like that mattered when you’d dragged perhaps the strangest person around into your home and installed him in front of your fire, but still. It was a habit.

Curling up on the couch Darcy pulled the blankets tight around her and looked at the alien silhouetted by the glow of the fire. “Bear,” she whispered into the darkness.

Bear raised his head up and looked at her, tail thumping once.

She yawned, settling back into the cushions. “Be sure to wake me if our guest gets up.”

Bear stared at her another moment before settling back down. He shifted with a huff, curling up tighter against the mass of blankets and alien next to him. So much for his support.

With a smile on her lips Darcy quickly fell asleep to the sound of the crackling fire. Outside a shadow shifted then vanished, the only traces of it and her rescue erased by the still falling snow.

Chapter Text

Darcy awoke only once during the night. The wet wood in the stove had let out a large pop, dragging her out of sleep as the wood crackled and spat. Her eyes had drifted open at the sound, blinking blearily into the darkness to see that the alien had shifted while she slept. Instead of being buried under the blankets he had kicked them aside and was now lying on top of them. His blue legs were sprawled out over the blankets and he was laying his stomach, clutching the pillow against his chest. A thin sheet barely covered his modesty and Darcy blinked at him, noting the reflection of firelight against the deep indents of skin on his back. The deep ridges of his built-in tribal tattoos were almost everywhere she sleepily noted. Really it was just the palms of his hand and his feet that didn’t seem to have any. She wondered if they served a purpose at all or it they were just for show as she sleepily remembered to take off her glasses and snuggle back down into the blankets. Bear was still at the alien’s side, furry head resting on the alien’s ankle as the two of them slept. Her alien looked comfortable enough and Darcy was wonderfully warm so she drifted back to sleep as the fire continued to softly hiss.

She sun was shining thinly through the clouds, the snow finally finished, when she awoke the second time. Bear’s face inches from her own, the dog looking at her expectantly as he huffed and wagged his tail. Blinking at the tricolored dog Darcy yawned heavily. “Shit, did I forget to feed you last night?” she muttered.

Bear just continued to stare at her, a silent confirmation of her failings as a dog owner.

Grumbling under her breath and rubbing her eyes, Darcy sat up and stretched. Grabbing her glasses she briefly wondered why she’d spent the night on the night on the couch before memories struck like a viper and her eyes went to the spot in front of the fire. To the empty spot in front of the stove.

The alien was gone. So were her blankets.

“Shit,” Darcy muttered, jumping off the couch. Her eyes darted around the room as she looked for her missing guest. “Hello? Mr Alien?” Her decorating couldn’t exactly be called Spartan but there wasn’t many places a human-sized blueberry could hide either. She checked under the table and in her overflowing storage closet and with that she was stumped. No alien.

Well fuck. Where did he go then?

Darcy checked the doors, front and back, finding them still locked. She hadn’t exactly gotten around to giving her guest a key so he hadn’t left that way. The windows were all shut and latched too. And she didn’t have an attic he could have crawled into.

Could it have all been a dream? Darcy wasn’t a stranger to weird dreams but usually they were of the ‘Ryan Reynolds and Colin O’Donoghue are battling over my affections! Better fuck them both just to be on the safe side,’ variety. She’d never dreamed about saving weird blue aliens from torture porn in the snow before. That really wasn’t her jam.

Bear was still staring at her though so Darcy gave in and fed the mangy beast. As he eagerly wolfed down dry kibble as if it was prime rib, Darcy glanced out the window at the thick snow. It was practically up to the window frame, the white fluff heavy with drifts all through the clearing in front of her cabin. Yeah, there was no way anyone was getting out in that. She’d probably be forced to call town to try and find someone with a truck to plow her out at this rate.

If her alien had gone out into that he was probably just as bad off as when she found him. Still, she had to check. She hadn’t put the snow shoes away and as soon as Bear was done eating he’d want to go out to pee. She’d just do a quick jaunt around the cabin to make sure that there were no aliens in snow drifts freezing to death just out of sight and call it a morning.

Darcy opened her bedroom door to change and walked into an ice box. Her breath puffed out in white bursts and she could swear she could practically see ice crystals in the air as she shivered in the doorway.

“What the fuck,” she muttered looking around. Had she left a window open? No, both windows were shut. Frozen shut by the looks of things. The tiny wood stove that she remembered carefully banking was ice cold as well, a thin layer of frost covering the cast iron. This was not normal and suddenly Darcy realized a hiding place she hadn’t even thought of checking as she’d searched for her missing alien. Apparently she needed coffee or something because this was a glaring omission in her search.

Pulling her long sleeves over her hands Darcy carefully turned the knob to her closet door and nudged it open. All of her clothes had been shoved to one side, a mound of blankets taking up most of the floor space between her shoes. The shape jerked back into the corner as the door opened. Red eyes peered at her from a dark gap in the fabric, nothing else of her guest visible as he cowered in her closet and apparently leaked cold into the air.

“Hey there,” Darcy said, trying for soothing and ending up with worried and starting to freak out a little instead. Since when did aliens have magical Elsa ice powers? She smiled at the alien then found herself wondering if flashing teeth at him was considered aggressive in his culture. Didn’t chimps smile only smile when they were trying to warn other chimps to the hell off? Dropping the smile she stared down at the pile of blankets as the red eyes stared back at her.

“Well this is awkward. Can you even understand me?” she asked the fabric mound. No reaction. The eyes didn’t even blink as they stared up at her. Darcy shifted her weight from foot to foot and sighed. This was getting her nowhere. Slowly she closed the closet door again, leaving it open a crack so that alien wouldn’t be trapped in total darkness. It was still freezing in her bedroom and she shivered as she went back to the main room and added another couple logs onto the fire.

So she had a blue ice alien hiding in her closet. That was definitely something. Flopping down on the couch she grabbed her laptop and opened a browser. There still wasn’t too much information on aliens out on the web, but there was enough to do a basic Google search. Of course there would have been more on Stark’s servers but then she’d have to contend with Friday possibly reporting her search to the higher ups. That wasn’t really her department so a search like that might lead to some questions she really wasn’t interested in answering right about now. After all, if her alien was so terrified he was hiding in the closet from little old her, SHEILD and Stark would be a complete nightmare for him. Better to keep things general and only go to the Stark network if she really needed help with her guest.

Navigating to AlienPedia, Darcy typed ‘blue alien’ into the search bar. One result. Some alien race called the Kree. There was barely any information there, the entry didn’t even have a real photo, just a crappy sketch. She scanned the entry, frown growing. A couple mentions that the Kree were humanoid aliens with blue skin, a reference that they may have been serving Thanos, and that was pretty much it. The entry was better than nothing, but only just. No mention of weird freezing temperature powers. No mention of any reason why she’d find a Kree with his mouth sewn shut tied to a tree in the forest outside her cabin.

So where did that leave her? Either Darcy had a Kree on her hands and she really needed to ask him some questions or she had some other alien race on her hands and she was on her own. Peachy.

Either way, she couldn’t exactly let him cower in her closet all day long. If nothing else she needed him to come out so she could do something about those stitches. Kree, other alien, or not he’d starve to death if his mouth stayed sewn shut.

Shutting her laptop, Darcy went to the storage closet and started pulling out boxes. The storage closet was where she’d put pretty much everything she’d been too lazy to unpack when she’d arrived. Where she stored everything she no longer needed. Like all the DVDs she could no longer watch, all her CDs, her iPod…

Blinking back tears, Darcy shook her head. It was no good feeling sorry for herself. She was better than that. Digging through the closet she grabbed the small box in the box labeled ‘Grandpa’ and hauled it out. Everything her Grandfather had left in the cabin before he’d been Snapped was inside. It hadn’t been much, but Darcy had insisted Stark’s workers box it up for her instead of getting rid of it. She hadn’t so much as looked inside since her arrival and her hands trembled as she took a deep breath and opened it.

Inside were a couple changes of clothes, a wool hat, some scattered gloves, and a few dog eared paperbacks. Her Grandfather had been the Spartan type yet strangely she felt disappointed as she gazed down at the meager possessions. This cabin had only been her Grandpa’s weekend retreat though. The place he went to hunt and not much else. Everything he actually owned was still at her parent’s house, the place she’d refused to even think about after the Snap. Pepper had mothballed it for her, securing the property and setting up Darcy’s accounts to automatically keep on top of the tax payments until she could manage to cope with it. That wouldn’t be anytime soon. Maybe not ever.

Picking out the clothes Darcy carefully closed the box and shoved it back into the closet. She haphazardly stacked the rest of the boxes inside, shoving the door shut with a bang. Picking up the small stack of clothes she went back into her freezing bedroom and slowly reopened her closet door.

The alien flinched back again as the door opened, red eyes peering at her from the mound of fabric. She risked a smile again, a small one, and held up the pile. “These are for you when you’re ready to come out,” she said and placed the folded clothes on her bed. The red eyes followed them, snapping back to her as she stepped back. Still smiling Darcy slowly left the room, shutting the bedroom door behind her but leaving the closet door wide open.

Sighing, Darcy pinched her brow. She could already feel a headache coming on. Not a lie induced one, thank goodness, but still. This was not going to be easy. Grabbing aspirin she marched over to the kitchen and lit the stove. She needed cocoa and breakfast stat. This day might not get any better, but a decent breakfast couldn’t make it any worse.

*****

It was snowing again. Darcy scowled out the window, stabbing at her eggs as the fat white flakes drifted past. Vermont had for sure been a mistake. She’d wanted silence and isolation, but she hadn’t wanted to be trapped in a Steven King novel. She was two creepy children and a croquet mallet away from recreating The Shining and she didn’t even have an empty hotel to play in all winter.

No TV and no beer make Darcy something, something…

The no TV bit fit. Though she was pretty sure she had some beer she’d been trying to ignore for the sake of her liver and mental health. Not every pop culture quote was perfect.

Bear rested his great fluffy head on her thigh, looking up at her with wide brown eyes as she continued to stab at her plate. Despite skipping dinner the night before she wasn’t all that hungry. Mostly she’d cooked to try and coax the alien out of hiding but that hadn’t worked at all. She still had a mountain of bacon left on her plate and no appetite to eat it. It was a crime to waste perfectly good bacon.

She looked down at Bear who wagged his tail eagerly, thumping it against the table. “No. Bacon’s not good for dogs,” she told him. He obviously didn’t believe it, brown eyes still pleading as he stared up at her.

Darcy sighed again, debating how far she was willing to go to spoil this dog when the floor creaked. She looked up to see the blue alien peering at her from around the corner, red eyes staring at her.

Darcy froze.

Swallowing hard she very slowly set down her fork, moving carefully as if she might startle a fawn. She smiled at him carefully, mentally trying to project that she was friendly and definitely not a threat. The AlienPedia article hadn’t said anything about the Kree being mind-readers, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t. To be honest no one really knew anything about any aliens besides the Asgardians and again, they were practically human in comparison.

“You hungry?” Darcy asked, her eyes still on the alien. Slowly she raised a hand, pausing when the alien flinched back and looked as if he would bolt. In the end he stayed, red eyes following her fingers as she pointed at her monster stove. “I can cook you some more food if you are. I have eggs, bacon, cereal, toast… I can make you a little of everything if you’re not sure what you’d like.”

The alien stared at her for another long moment. He seemed to take a deep breath and stepped out from behind the wall, staring at her as in in challenge as he stood there fully within her sight.

He’d changed into her Grandfather’s old clothes. They didn’t suit him. At all. Her Grandpa hadn’t been a big man, but he’d been heavier and shorter than the alien. His jeans hung off the blue man’s waist, coming dangerously close to falling down entirely and were shorter than waders on him. The plaid shirt was somehow even worse. While the red plaid almost came close to matching his eyes the rest of it was awful. Too tight in the shoulders, too short in the arms, too loose at the stomach. Her alien looked like an adult who’d tried to squeeze into children’s clothes. It was a horrible, absolutely ridiculous look and she couldn’t even laugh at him for fear he’d bolt.

Darcy pursed her lips, biting back a smile and the alien’s eyes narrowed. That was clear cross-species communication. She was being glared at. He squared his shoulders, holding his head up high as he glowered down his nose at her as if daring her to laugh. His sewn together lips were even twisted down into a frown, crusted blood shining at the edge of the stitches.

If anything that made him look more ridiculous and Darcy covered her mouth with her hand, faking a cough. It wasn’t particularly convincing. The alien continued to glare at her, Grandpa’s jeans threatening to fall at any moment and make the moment even more awkward. Just how tall was he anyway? Six foot and a million inches? She didn’t exactly think of her Grandpa as short but however tall this alien was he had him beat by a lot. She’d probably look like a midget standing next to him.

“Let’s get you some breakfast,” Darcy said. She stood and the alien darted back, hands raised as if he was about to either attack or shield himself. His red eyes were blown out and wide, his chest heaving as he looked at her as if she was the most terrifying thing in the room. He radiated pure fear and the worst part was that the inner mutant power inside of her screamed that his reaction was the truth. He was genuinely afraid of her. No one had ever been afraid of her before.

Darcy frowned, slowly stepping out from behind her kitchen table. The alien’s eyes followed her carefully as she slowly raised her hands to show that they were empty. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you,” she said, voice soft. “I found you out in the woods yesterday and brought you here because I thought you needed help. I’m not the one who did any of those things to you.”

The alien continued to stare at her then slowly lowered his hands to his sides. He nodded at her once. What that meant she wasn’t sure, but if she had to guess it was an acknowledgement that she hadn’t been the one to sew his lips shut or bind him to the tree.

Pointing again to the stove she smiled as the alien followed her fingers once more. “Are you hungry?” she asked.

He looked at her then reached up and touched his lips. The shadow of a frown crossed them and he winced.

Darcy mirrored his movement touching her lips as well. “Yeah, that looks like it hurts. I would have tried to remove them last night, but I didn’t want to frighten you,” she said gently. She took a step forward, encouraged when he only flinched but held his ground. “Would you like me to try and remove them now?”

More staring. His expression seemed to flicker between suspicion and fear, all of it reading truthful but conflicted as he gazed at her.

“We’ll have to remove them sooner or later,” Dary said, trying again. “It’ll be really hard to eat breakfast with your mouth sewn shut.”

The alien’s gaze drifted to her plate still stacked with bacon and his hand drifted against his stomach. Looking at her again he slowly nodded again and waited.

Darcy smiled. “Okay, why don’t you sit at the table and I’ll go find some scissors and gauze. Does that sound good?”

No response to that. The alien just stared at her as Darcy slowly walked past him, turning to follow her until she turned the corner and headed down the hall back to her bedroom. The room was warmer then it had been though the windows still looked frozen shut and there was a definite chill in the air. Rummaging through her drawers Darcy found the tiny mending kit she’d tucked away and grabbed the scissors.

When she returned to the kitchen she found the alien standing in the center of the room, a knife in his hand and his eyes closed as he held the blade poised to stab himself in the mouth.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Darcy shouted, diving across the room and grabbing his arm. She winced, almost letting go as soon as she touched him. The alien was cold, uncomfortably so. His skin was like grabbing hold of an ice cube, her skin starting to tingle as she tried to pull his arm down.

His eyes flew open, red gaze full of alarm as he stared down at her. Breath coming in short gasps he pulled back as she kept her grip on him. For a moment she thought he was going to stab himself or maybe her but then he froze, eyes closing tight as he cowered away from her. Darcy swallowed and gently reached up to pry the knife out of his hand. He dropped it as soon as she touched his fingers, stepping away as soon as she let go of his arm. He nearly collapsed against the counters, grabbing hold of them tightly as his chest heaved.

A panic attack. That’s what it looked like at least as the alien slid to the floor. Bear trotted over and shoved his head into the alien’s face and to her surprise the alien grabbed him, clutching to the big dog and burying his face into thick fur as his shoulders shook silently. Wetting her lips Darcy picked up the knife and carefully put it away, giving the alien a wide berth. Going to the other side of the kitchen she also sat down, not looking at him but just waiting silently for the alien to calm down.

Eventually his shoulders stopped shaking and his grip on Bear loosened. The dog wagged his tail and panted as the alien pulled away, leaning back into the counter with an exhausted air.

Darcy studied him carefully from the corner of her eye. If he’d been human she would have called his expression pained… And embarrassed. Hell, she was going to call it that anyway. That seemed to be as good of a description as any of how someone would feel upon being discovered about to stab yourself with a kitchen knife and then disarmed by a human half your size. The alien looked down at Bear, gently stroking his fur with trembling hands. Bear sat down next to him, tongue out and seeming content in that way dogs had of enjoying everything. His tail thumped against the floor as the alien stopped petting him to look at Darcy.

She risked another smile. The alien hadn’t seen insulted by them yet so there was no reason to stop. “Sorry about that,” she said gently. “I know you want those stitches out, but there’s a right tool for every job and a kitchen knife is not the one for this case. I didn’t want you to hurt yourself.” She held out the scissors, putting them on the floor in front of her. “I think these might work better. Would you like me to use them to cut the stitches out?”

Looking at the scissors the alien nodded once and held his hand out. He glared when she didn’t immediately slide the scissors over, face twisting up into a scowl.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Darcy told him. “You can’t see your own face. You might stab yourself with them on accident.”

He shook his head and held out his hand again. Confident bugger. He really did seem to think he’d do a better job of it. Darcy bit her lip and slid the scissors across the floor at him. He snatched them eagerly picking them up and inspecting them carefully before fitting his fingers through the holes.

The alien’s hands were still trembling though. His grip seemed weak, movements clumsy, as he lifted the scissors to his face and vaguely stabbed at his mouth. Darcy winced at the same time he did, dark blood appearing at the corner of his mouth as he braced himself and made another wild stab.

“Dude, wait,” Darcy said, holding out a hand. The alien froze, eyes watching her intently and pressing himself up against the cabinets. Lowering her hand, Darcy scooted back until the alien’s shoulders relaxed marginally. “That looks like it really hurts and you’re bleeding. Are you sure you don’t want my help? I’ll do my best not to hurt you or touch you if you don’t want it.”

Regarding her, the alien’s hand now trembling like a leaf, he finally nodded and dropped the scissors to the ground. Looking away, breath heaving again he shoved the scissors across the floor at her and closed his eyes tight.

Darcy picked up the scissors and slowly scooted across the floor on her butt until she was next to him. He was radiating cold like a block of ice, a sheen of condensation covering his skin. He smelled like cold too. Like the woods outside in winter and fresh snow. She wondered if he was too hot in her cozy cabin or if he was always this chilly. Something to ask when his mouth was free. He certainly seemed to understand English. Maybe movie clichés were real and he’d be able to speak it as well.

“Could you turn your head towards me a little? I’m going to try and cut the first stitch,” Darcy said.

The alien did as she asked, eyes opening a crack to watch her as she raised the scissors.

Being slow was the name of the game. She made every movement at sloth speed and deliberately, giving him time to watch her and adjust as she carefully navigated the scissors against the stitches. They were tighter then she hoped, the alien not even having the space to open his mouth a little. It took a bit of work to get the narrow blades under the thread and in a place where it wouldn’t cut his skin. The alien winced but didn’t jerk away though, still watching her with those red, red eyes.

“I’m cutting the first thread,” she told him and when he only blinked at her, snipped it. The scissors clicked loudly but did their job, severing the thick black thread. “I cut the first stitch. Moving on to the next one.”

Over and over she cut, talking to him and telling the alien exactly what she was doing with every move. It was heartbreaking work. Whoever had done it hadn’t been much of a seamstress. The stiches were all uneven, some of them going so high up that they nearly hit the gums, some so small and tight she had to tell the alien she was skipping that stich and coming back after she freed up some flesh on either side. Dark blood welled up as she worked, crusted scabs breaking as she cut the thread. The blood smeared red on the scissors and that was kind of interesting. She’d imagined that the alien’s blood would have also been blue or maybe even black considering the color of his skin.

“This is my Grandfather’s house,” she told the alien as they took a break. Darcy was maybe half-way through and had decided she needed a moment to rest her hands and give the alien some time to breathe. He hadn’t seemed to mind, eyes closing and his head thumping back against the cabinets as she moved back. For a moment she thought he’d fallen asleep, but his eyes flew open at her comment, gaze darting about as if trying to see where her Grandfather was hiding.

“I guess I should say that this used to by my Grandpa’s house,” Darcy corrected quickly before he could panic. “My Grandfather is… gone. Snapped. Did the Snap happen by you? It was supposed to erase half the universe but, well, it’s hard to imagine that power reaching all the way out there. It’s just me and Bear here now.” The alien’s brow furrowed. “Bear is the dog.”

Summoned by his name, Bear trotted over and looked at them both. He grinned a sloppy dog grin and pushed himself between them. The alien didn’t seem to mind, raising an arm to give Bear room then burying his fingers into the fur once he was settled. It was nice that the alien seemed to like Bear. The dog seemed to be the one thing the alien wasn’t afraid of, his fingers cording through the soft fur as his eyes drifted shut again.

“I lost a lot of people in the Snap,” Darcy said. She wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe it was the silence in the cabin, the need to fill it up now that she had humanoid company. Maybe it was because she wanted the alien to trust her and telling him about herself seemed like it would fit. Maybe it was because she hadn’t talked about this at all. To anyone. She didn’t dwell on it, leaning back against the cabinets herself.

“I lost my Grandpa. Both my parents. My brother, his wife, and all three of their kids. I’ve read that the Snap was supposed to erase only 50% of the people but it’s amazing how many holes that makes when your entire family is in that half.” Pulling her knees up, Darcy loosely wrapped her arms around them and stared at the wall. It was completely blank and painted a boring white. She needed to put some pictures up or something when she had the chance. “I lost a lot of other people too. Coworkers. Friends. I lost my best friend Jane…”

Darcy stopped, blinking back tears. “I really miss Jane. If she was here she’d know just what to do with you. She’d probably even be able to figure out how to send you home.”

The alien made a soft scoffing noise and Darcy turned to look at him to see that he’d been watching her silently. He reached out, fingers outstretched as if he was about to wipe away the tears that were dripping down her face but stopped before he could touch her. His eyes refocused and he stared at his own hand before his face flashed disgust and he entirely shut down. Dropping his hand he turned away from her, eyes tightly closing once more.

There was no need to take it personally, Darcy told herself as she wiped away her own tears with her sleeves. Just because she thought the alien looked kind of strange but interesting didn’t mean he’d find her interesting at all. Thinking she was so disgusting that he couldn’t touch her kind of hurt though. The worst part was that his disgust had rung so true in her mind. It wasn’t a lie, wasn’t something he was pretending. He’d been genuinely revolted at the idea of touching her.

Wiping her hands on her pajama pants Darcy took a deep breath and smiled. “Ready for me to get the rest of those stitches?”

The second half was the same as the first, Darcy carefully narrating her every step for the alien’s approval as she cut the threads. When she was done she peered at his mouth closely, nodding to herself. “I think I got them all. Can you open your mouth? Slowly, in case I missed some.”

A bright red tongue darted out between the alien’s lips, running over the bumps and still embedded thread that she hadn’t pulled out yet. With that the alien’s shoulders slumped, his entire being relaxing as he reached up to touch his mouth, opening and closing his mouth with what looked like total bliss. When he was done making weird faces and breaking open the scabs that ringed his mouth the alien looked at strangely. He swallowed audibly and took a shaking breath.

“Thank you,” he croaked. His voice was hoarse as if it hadn’t been used in a while. Which it probably hadn’t, considering the state of his mouth. He’d also been speaking English, proving that every lazy Hollywood stereotype of all aliens being able to speak English was true. That was almost disappointing really.

“You’re welcome,” Darcy said. She put the scissors down and gestured at his mouth. “Do you want me to get the threads too? I think I should have some tweezers to get those out. It’ll probably hurt like hell though.”

The alien considered her for a moment and shook his head. “No,” he rasped. “I… want…” He trailed off, looking weak and tired and Darcy nodded.

“Okay, we can leave that for when you’re ready,” she reassured him. Wondering what to do next she stood and offered him a hand up. He barely flinched at her movement, hesitating only a moment before allowing her to pull him to his feet. Progress. His hand was still noticeably cool in her own, but not as bad as it had been. She wondered if that was a good sign or not. “Come on. I’ll show you how you can freshen up.”

Leading him by the hand the two of them padded through the tiny cabin until they were back at the bedroom. She opened the other door though, gesturing to the bathroom. “This is the washroom if you want it,” she said, dropping his hand. Darcy dug around under the sink, pulling out a manicure set and removing the tweezers that she set by the sink. She showed him where the spare towels were, pointed out the toilet, and showed him how to turn the shower on as he gingerly stepped into the room, eyes darting everywhere except the mirror as he followed her inside.

“Take as much time as you want,” Darcy said after she was finished making sure he knew which taps were for hot and cold. Considering how frigid his skin was she really didn’t want to surprise him with a hot shower if he couldn’t stand it. She stood, drying her hands off on a towel. “When you’re ready come find me. I’ll be in the kitchen making your breakfast when you’re ready.”

The alien looked at her and nodded slowly. Darcy squeezed past, careful not to touch him but paused in the middle of shutting the bathroom door. “Before I forget, my name’s Darcy,” she told him with a smile. “What’s your name?”

He regarded her for a long moment before turning away. “Stianger,” he said quietly, hands clenching into fists.

Darcy flinched but forced a smile. “Nice to meet you Stianger,” she said and closed the bathroom door. Taking a deep breath she pinched her brow. Her head was throbbing again, a low even beat that told her one thing.

Her alien guest was lying to her.

Chapter Text

The issue at hand, whether Darcy wanted to face it or not, was that she didn’t know a thing about her new house guest. Stianger, and that was definitely not his real name, was a question mark wrapped in a big-boy Smurf costume, wrapped in ‘Holy shit! Now what!?’ She didn’t know how to deal with him. So far he’d seemed more scared of her then she of him, but that didn’t mean he was going to stay that way. He was bigger than her, probably stronger, and he had his weird ice powers that had transformed her bedroom into a chest freezer. All Darcy had was the power to tell when someone was lying and Bear. And she had the feeling that Bear might love his new alien friend more. 
 
She should probably call someone and tell him about the alien currently cleaning himself up in her bathroom. In the past who to call would have been a no-brainer. Jane. Before the Snap, Darcy wouldn’t even have made it back to the cabin before she would have called Jane. Her sort-of boss and actual best friend would have been racing down snowy streets all night, to burst in through the door in time for coffee and breakfast. There would have been no need to worry. Jane would have taken point, interrogating Stianger with that wicked gleam she got when science was on the line. All Darcy would have had to do is sit back and enjoy the show, keeping her taser on hand in the event Mr Blue-Da-Ba-Dee-Da got the wrong idea and started talking back.
 
Yet Jane was gone. Snapped. Poof. Dead. And her taser…. Shit. Her taser! She hadn’t seen it since the move. 
 
Glancing over her shoulder, Darcy looked to her storage closet wondering what box it could be in. She’d been lax thinking that there was no need for it in the woods of Vermont, being buried in snow, but that had been a mistake. She might have left the majority of humanity behind to reside in the middle of nowhere, but now she had an alien guest. Not to mention whoever had done those things to him was still out there somewhere. Flipping bacon, Darcy made a mental note to dig through her boxes the first chance she got. Who knew when her taser would come in handy.
 
With a creak of the floorboards, Stianger reappeared behind her. While she hadn’t heard the roar of the pipe’s plumbing the alien’s long black hair was wet, dripping slowly down onto her Grandfather’s shirt. The area around Stianger’s lips glistened with fresh blood. Apparently he’d put the tweezers she’d set out to good use and already plucked out all the threads that had once bound his mouth shut. That was good. He already looked better. His blue skin was bright like a sapphire and his eyes seemed to glisten as nodded at her carefully and padded over to the place at the table she’d set for him. 
 
Opening the oven Darcy grabbed out the warm plate she’d stored in there. It wasn’t much, just scrambled eggs and toast, but it seemed simple and safe. Considering she was dealing with an alien who likely didn’t have any experience with Earth food simple was probably a good idea. Pausing before she set down the plate, Darcy looked at him uncertainly. Stianger refused to look back, gaze on the table, his hands too casually resting next to the fork she’d placed there for him. She had the feeling that if she moved too quickly Stianger would have the cutlery in hand to defend himself before she could blink. Getting forked to death would be a pretty embarrassing way to die.

Setting down the plate she took a step back, giving him space. “I wasn’t sure about allergies or anything so if you can’t or don’t want to eat something, tell me. I’ll find something else for you to eat. Okay?”
 
Nodding once, Stianger’s hand trembled as he picked up the fork. He fumbled with it, hands unsteady, and began to eat. 
 
Leaving him to it, Darcy went back to the bacon. She wondered if Stianger was a straight and crispy or floppy and greasy bacon kind of person. It didn’t particularly matter, she’d never had the patience to figure out how people kept the bacon so flat for the crispy kind. Floppy and dripping grease it was. Loading up a fresh plate she set it on the table. 
 
“That’s bacon. It’s a kind of pork in case you can’t eat that for religious reasons,” Darcy said and regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth. It didn’t help that Stianger had stopped eating the moment she’d turned back towards him, freezing in place as if he was hoping she’d overlook him. Did she really think that her very alien guest was Space!Jewish or something. No, obviously he was Space!Muslim. Or maybe he was Space!Mormon. If any religion could figure out a way to convert the stars it would probably be them.
 
“I... do not have religious restrictions,” Stianger said faintly. It was the most words she’d heard out of him so far. He stared at the plate, red eyes practically glowing with want. 
 
“Okay,” she said. Shifted her weight as Stianger sat there frozen, not moving besides breathing. “Uh... dig in then?” Turning back to the fridge she heard the clink of metal on her plates as soon as her back was turned. So no allergies so far, no religious restrictions to his diet, but Stianger had a real problem with people watching him eat. Good to know. 
 
Opening the fridge she wondered what he’d like to drink. She almost turned back to ask but thought better of it. Grabbing out three small cups she poured a little of everything in each one and sat them next to Stianger. He was chewing this time when she turned around and he didn’t stop when he realized she was looking at him. “Cranberry juice, orange juice, and milk. There’s more of all of them if you like one of them and water if you don’t like any of them.”
 
Stianger’s plates were already almost empty. He must have been inhaling his food when her back was turned. It was Thor level appetite. If he always ate this way she’d have to go to town for sure to pick up more supplies. From wrapping him in blankets Darcy knew how skinny and lean Stianger was. Part of that could have been his alien biology, but she felt that even aliens shouldn’t have visible ribs. He was in need of some serious feeding up. 
 
“Do you want more of anything?” she asked, gesturing to his plates. 
 
Swallowing audibly, Stianger nodded once. “Eggs.”
 
“Sure.” 
 
Going back to the fridge she took out the egg carton and got cooking. This time she fried them, making eggs over easy and sunny side up for him along with more toast for the runny yolks. The next time she turned back Stianger didn’t even put his fork down, continuing to eat without hesitation. Darcy smiled and poured him a mug of coffee, adding that to the line of drinks in front of him. “There’s sugar in the bowl if it’s too bitter,” she told him. 
 
The food situation looked good for now. Half of the bacon was gone, Stianger had six new eggs to eat, and he hadn’t even touched his drinks. It would probably be okay to leave him for a moment. “You keep doing what you’re doing, but I’m going to go outside for a bit,” Darcy said, turning off the stove and putting the dishes so far into the sink. “There’s some stuff I didn’t put away last night and Bear could use a stretch.”
 
Stianger was staring at her when she turned back, his food forgotten. “You will return?” he asked, looking uncertain. 
 
“Yup, I’ll be back before you know it,” Darcy reassured him. She went to the front door, putting her coat and boots on over her pajamas as Bear pressed close and whined in excitement. Wrapping her scarf up tight and donning gloves, Darcy gave the dog a firm look. “Playing, pooing, and peeing only this time. No more aliens. You hear me?”
 
Bear barked at her, tail wagging in what she took to be agreement. He burst out of the door as soon as Darcy opened it, diving into the first snowdrift with a poof of powder. 

Watching the dog Darcy laughed a deep belly laugh. Even as a kid she didn’t remember loving snow as much as Bear did. The dog lived for it, he would never forgive her if she ever moved back to New Mexico and the heat. Still laughing she chased Bear and Bear chased her, the two of them running like fools through the deep snow and enjoying the clean crisp air. She hadn’t dressed properly for the cold though and soon enough Darcy started feeling chilled. That was fine though. It wasn’t like the snow was going anywhere anytime soon. She could come back out whenever she wanted to and play. Time to do what she’d actually come out for. 

Trudging through the thick snow she dragged the sled back to her Grandpa’s shed and neatly put everything she’d taken back where she found it. Grabbing the shovel she made a halfhearted attempt at shoveling a path through the snow before giving up and settling on being happy that the steps to the front door was clear. There was easily two feet of snow on the ground. She would need to call for someone to plow her out for sure. 

Even though Bear looked like he could take another hour or two outside he followed her back in with minimal hesitation, shedding snow as he raced through the cabin. Kicking off her boots and hanging up her things, Darcy shivered as she headed back to the kitchen. After all that hard work she deserved a hot chocolate from the biggest mug she owned with all the marshmallows. Maybe Stianger would like one too. 

If she could find him that is. Turning the corner into the kitchen revealed that Stianger had vanished again. Hopefully he hadn’t snuck out the back she thought as she set up a saucepan of milk on the stove and turned to do the breakfast dishes. Which were already all done. Each pan and pot she’d used that morning, every dish and cup, had all been carefully scrubbed and placed into the dish drainer. 

“Our alien knows how to do the dishes,” she told Bear. “We might have to keep him around.”

Bear panted and wagged his tail expectantly.

“Just because I happen to be in the kitchen doesn’t mean you’re getting fed,” Darcy informed him, reaching up for the mugs. She paused, a thought striking her. Twitching aside the sheer kitchen curtains she looked out at the carnage of snow she and Bear had kicked up. The kitchen looked directly out at the clearing in front of the cabin, only the bedroom had a better view. The entire time Stianger had been doing dishes he must have been able to see her and Bear running around like idiots. She wasn’t sure what to think about that. Hopefully it meant Stianger would be less terrified of her at least. 

Adding the powdered chocolate Darcy stirred frantically until she got a little foam before carefully pouring the precious liquid into her mugs. A dash of extra chocolate on top and a heap of mini marshmallows and they were done. Now to track down her guest to give him his share. 

Darcy’s fingers twitched and she picked up the bigger mug. It was practically a soup bowl with a handle, the words “I do not spew profanities. I enunciate them clearly like a fucking lady” written on the side surrounded by little hearts and stars. It was her favorite mug by far. She carefully carried it into her bedroom, toeing open the ajar closet door. 

Stianger was curled under the mound of blankets again. This time at least his head was uncovered and he blinked up at her as she stood in the doorway. 

“You know that if you’re tired there’s a bed right there,” Darcy said, jerking her head at the Queen sized bed pushed up against the wall. “If you really want to sleep in the closet that’s fine but, I mean, bed. It’s comfy. Fourteen inches of high end memory foam.”

“I was not invited,” Stianger muttered. He pulled his blanket burrito tighter around himself. 

She couldn’t help it. Darcy rolled her eyes. “Consider yourself invited then,” she said. Gently she set the still steaming mug of cocoa down on the end table. “You’re invited to this too. It’s best hot.” With that she turned to go, but paused by the still stone cold wood stove. “Also, if you want a fire in here just tell me. I don’t know how hot or cold you like it, but tell me before you freeze to death, okay?”

Shooing Bear out of the room Darcy turned back one last time. Stianger had stuck his head out of the closet, watching her depart. His lips pursed as she turned around again. “If you need anything I’ll be on the couch trying to get some work done. Have a good nap.” She shut the bedroom door behind herself, grabbed her own cocoa (in her second favorite mug) and flopped down on the couch. Forget work, she also needed a nap. Too bad she liked getting paid. 

Sipping her cocoa Darcy checked her emails and listened carefully. Sure enough, she heard the heavy creak of her wooden bed frame and she smiled. Stupid aliens. Thinking they needed invitations for the stupidest things. She’d kick Stianger out and make him sleep on the couch soon enough, but for now he looked like he needed a bed and a real night’s sleep way more than she did. 

*****

Work had been boring, just updating the Stark website and keeping an eye on the company Twitter feed. Really, it was something that Friday could have done on his own. Not for the first time Darcy felt like a charity case, working for Stark only because he felt sorry for her rather than actually being useful. Slamming shut her laptop exactly at five she resisted the urge to throw it across the room and instead put it away before going to the kitchen to check on dinner. 

In the end she’d given in and decided she couldn’t put off cooking that chicken any longer. It was already two days past the best by date. Any more and she might have to toss it. With a ravenous alien mouth to feed she’d decided on soup. Broth was filling and easy enough to eat. She’d set the chicken boiling in broth a couple hours ago and now the smell of it filled the cabin entirely. It was enough to make her stomach rumble and Bear hadn’t left the kitchen in forever, staring despondently at the pot as if willing it to fall over so he could have the chicken. 

Turning the heat off, Darcy began fishing around with a fork to spear the chicken so she could take it out. She needed the broth to cool enough to skim the fat off and to strip the chicken flesh from its bones. If she was going to make soup she might as well do it right after all. The damn thing broke into pieces as she stabbed it, making things that much more difficult of course. 

Darcy had just about most of the chicken into a bowl and was seeing if she’d missed any when Bear’s ears perked. Woofing softly he trotted towards the front door, tail wagging. Wiping away the condensation from the window over the sink she could see headlights in the gathering darkness, heard the scrap of metal over gravel and dirt. 

“About time,” she muttered. Darcy had called the town post office hours ago for advice on someone who’d be able to plow out the driveway. The thing about small towns was that there was always a nexus point. Someone who knew everything about everyone and who would instantly connect people together when a need arose. It was usually always the local librarian or the post master, the places where people were most likely to congregate for town gossip on long snowy days. Having seen the town library, or rather what the people here called a library, she’d gambled on post office and struck gold. The post master had been promised that someone named Bill would be around to plow her out before dark. Now, as the shadows lengthened, here he was.

Taking the opportunity of Bear whining at the front, Darcy staggered over to the back door and shoved the pot of chicken broth into the snow. Nature’s refrigerator. By the time she came back for it would be ready to be skimmed. The bowl of chicken went into the fridge and Darcy headed towards the door, grabbing her coat before hesitating and turning back. 

It might have been her bedroom but she knocked twice before opening the door. Stianger was standing by the window in the darkness, his fingers holding the side of a curtain open just enough to see outside. He turned to look at her as she opened the door his face calm and serene. Which evidently was a lie because instantly Darcy’s head began to pound. 

“Just wanted to ask you to stay put for a bit,” she said, forcing a smile. “That’s Bill. He’s here to plow the driveway so I can get the car out of this place. Can you just... stay in here and maybe keep a low profile until he leaves?”

Stianger nodded once and with a quick thank you Darcy shut the bedroom door. Sighing, she rubbed at her temples before going back to the front and grabbing her coat, putting it on again over the pajamas she’d never changed out of. 

Shooing away Bear from the door she went out, the dog whining at her as she shut it on him. Bill was already halfway done with the driveway by the time she made it out, using the plow attached to his battered red pickup to push the snow far into the clearing and out of the way. She grinned and waved at him as he paused in his work, killing the engine, and rolling down the window to holler a hello. 

“Lots of snow you got here. Double of what fell in town,” Bill said as she approached the window. Bill looked like the picture of what a Northeastern old timer should look like. Bundled tightly in a thick canvas winter coat, the barest hint of a plaid shirt peaking out, and a battered old flannel hat he didn’t smile at her at all. That was almost expected though. She didn’t picture Bill as the type that would smile much at all, some old people were like that. Instead he seemed even and measured as if he’d tell her with the same level of excitement about how his side business of maple syrup was doing as he did talking about the latest football game. 

Darcy adored him instantly. “Hey Bill! Thanks for plowing me out. You’re a real lifesaver.”

He nodded at her, not looking comfortable with the praise. “Snow’ll be holding off for the next coupl’a days, but more will be coming. I can do this on the regular if you’d like. I bill monthly.”

“That sounds great. Send me the bill, Bill.”

He nodded, starting up his old truck again. Conversation over. Practical to a fault. Darcy started to turn to go but instead headed back, Bill killing the engine again as she grinned at him. “So, uh, I have a question for you. I have this cousin and he’s stupidly tall and skinny. With Christmas coming up and all I was thinking about getting him some clothes. Any suggestions that aren’t just Walmart?”

Bill looked at her and sucked in his bottom lip. “My daughter would suggest the online markets,” he said slowly. “Amazon and the like. If you want something high end you’ll have to go to Burlington or down south to Springfield.”

Darcy smiled, thinking of the way Stianger had tried looking down his nose at her when she’d first gotten him into her Grandpa’s clothes. “He’s pretty high end. I’ll have to haul out and make a day of it then.”

“Careful on the roads. They’re slippery this time of year,” Bill said and rolled up his window. Giving him a cheerful wave she went back into the cabin, blocking Bear before he could escape.

Well that settled that. Tomorrow she’d get up early and get some shopping done. Put that Stark paycheck to some good use at last and get Stianger some threads. While she still wasn’t sure how long her alien would be sticking around, at least when he moved on he’d be wearing clothes that didn’t look like and adult trying to play dress up in their child’s wardrobe.

Humming cheerfully Darcy went back to dinner prep. She skimmed the fat off the broth, picked the chicken clean, and was adding carrots and zucchini to the still simmering liquid when Bill finished the driveway. He drove off without a word and a few minutes later she heard the bedroom door creak open. Bear’s tail started to wag.

“Hey! Dinner should be ready soon,” Darcy said, scraping the last of the vegetables off the cutting board and into the pot. She looked around for the celery. It had been right there a second ago. “Could you add another log or two to the fire? It probably needs it.”

“I would like to know when it will begin,” Stianger’s voice said behind her.

She turned to see Stianger standing on the edge of the kitchen, that same lying mask of calm and coolness painted on his face. Wincing, Darcy turned back to the counter and started chopping celery. Sometimes not looking helped trick her powers into not responding. While she didn’t know what Stianger was feeling it definitely wasn’t the calm facade he had going. “When what will begin?”

“The torture.”

Darcy froze mid chop. “The what?” she demanded, grip tightening on her knife. She didn’t understand. Was that a threat or-

He moved so fast Darcy didn’t even have time to recognize it. Just one moment he was at the edge of the kitchen, the next he was at her side gripping her right wrist so tightly she dropped the knife. Stianger jerked her around, red eyes flashing with fury as he snarled at her. “Do you think I’m a fool?”

Bear got to his feet, the big dog whining as Stianger towered over her. He was even more stupidly tall when he was inches away from her. Tail between his legs Bear let out a distressed little bark but Stianger didn’t even glance at him.

“I-uh-“

“Is this your kind’s idea of some sort of joke? A way to get me to drop my guard? I will tell you now that whatever it is that you are planning, it will not work. Dispense with your mind games and get over with it. I’d rather have it begin then spend another moment with your false friendship.”

Stianger’s voice was all venom and fury, yet Darcy’s head was pounding. She could feel the tremor of Stianger’s hands, hear the barest hitch in his voice. His red eyes were fever bright and she didn’t think that was entirely due to them being such a weird color. A drum beat screaming not again, not again. He was terrified. You could practically smell it on him. Raw terror and like any frightened animal he was lashing out to fight rather than choosing to continue to cower.

He was also too close. Way too close.

Darcy reached up and shoved him as hard as she could. “Get off me!” she shouted as Stianger staggered back. He’d raised up his hands as if trying to ward off a blow, a look of almost relief on his face as she pushed him away. His hands dropped and he stood there, eyes closing and shoulders sagging as if expecting her to continue.

Instead Darcy stared at him, chest heaving. “What the fuck is the matter with you?” she demanded. “Torture? Who the hell do you think I am?”

Stianger’s eyes opened and he looked at her, confusion on his face. “That is the reason I was sent here. If you did not intend to become my new keeper, why bring me to this place?”

For a moment Darcy forgot how to breathe as the implications set in. Somebody hadn’t just left Stianger in the woods outside her house, they’d put him there on purpose so that someone from Earth would find him and continue his brutalization. That the reason he’d acted so afraid of her was because he’d thought she was only pretending to be nice. That he thought she was trying to get him to drop his guard in order to make his torture worse. That Stianger thought that she, Darcy Lewis, could be so cold hearted to torture someone she didn’t even know. It hurt even more because it was all so true. She could feel it in her skull, the pounding knowledge that Stianger fully expected to be tortured in her cabin. That somehow he deserved it.

There were things she probably should have said. Soothing things like assuring him that she would never stoop so low to torture another living being. Reassurances that he was safe. That Earth was different from whatever planet he’d come from where they played hot potato with torture victims. She could have told him that everything was fine and gone back to finishing their dinner as if nothing had happened.

Something inside her snapped. Rage like she’d never felt before filled her, funneling down to a pinprick and focusing on the alien standing before her. “Fuck you,” Darcy whispered. Tears pricked at her eyes and Darcy found the knife in her hand again. “Fuck you!” she screamed, throwing it at Stianger. It missed by a mile, striking the wall instead as he stared at her with wide eyes. She threw the cutting board at him too, celery bouncing uselessly off his chest as the wooden plank hit the kitchen table and crashed to the floor.

Her throat was clenched full of the things she wanted to say. The how dare yous and I would nevers. The accusations that Stianger had actually seemed relived, that he’d wanted her to torture him. That he deserved everything that had happened to him and everything still coming.

Instead she pointed at the door. “Get the fuck out of my house!”

Stianger continued to stare at her, actually taking a step back. “I…”

“No! No excuses! If you want to be tortured so badly then get the fuck out and find someone else because it won’t be me!”

Fleeing her own kitchen, marching past Stianger and his stupid expression of astonishment, Darcy slammed the bedroom door behind herself and threw herself into her bed. Her head was killing her. Pounding an irregular beat through her skull like an uncoordinated toddler playing with a hammer. She couldn’t tell anything anymore. Lies or truth she couldn’t see them. Everything just hurt and it had been such a mistake to let another person into her house. It felt as if every nerve ending in her brain was on fire and she didn’t even know why. The pain was almost as bad as the first time she broke through and then she had Doctor Banner and opioids to help her through. Now she had no one and the pain was excruciating.

The pillow smelled like ice and pine sap. Her brain screamed truth and her brain screamed lie and she threw the pillow across the room. She heard it collide with her dresser and the sound of something breaking. Bear whined and pawed at the bedroom door and that was a lie, lie, LIE. The dog didn’t care about her. The last people who’d cared about her had dissolved into ash and been blown away by the wind. Everyone else was just pretending. They’d exiled her to this godforsaken cabin in the middle of the snow rather than trying to help her. They’d all lied to her. Her entire life everyone had lied to her. If she died here no one would even notice. No one would mourn her. No one would care.

No one wanted her, no one cared.

No one wanted her. No one cared.

NO ONE WANTED-

The front door slammed.

Darcy sat up with a gasp. For one brief shining moment her mind felt empty and clear. Then it all came tumbling back and she collapsed back into her bed as tears welled up in her eyes. Letting out a sob she buried her face into the blankets that still smelled of winter and cried herself to sleep.

Chapter Text

Darcy awoke the next morning to the sound of birdsong and blood on her face. The blood had crusted during the night, glueing her skin to the blankets and leaving behind a deep stain of brown. Rubbing her cheeks, Darcy stared at the flakes of dried blood and wondered where they had come from. Checking her face in the mirror didn’t reveal any injuries. Had she gotten a bloody nose and smeared it all over her face in her sleep?

In any case she awoke tired and exhausted, her entire body aching dully as she pulled herself from the bed. She felt hungover. Only this wasn’t one of the hangovers of her youth that could be fixed with a Tylenol and some coffee. This was a proper hangover. The ‘I’m way too old to still be drinking like this’ variety only she couldn’t remember drinking last night. What did she remember? Oh yeah.

Stianger.

The memory of hating him, of hating herself, welled up within her without any of the heavy emotions attached. In the clearness of daylight she couldn’t even remember why she’d been so upset at him. Sure, he’d accused her of wanting to torture him and that had hurt, but she’d thrown a knife at him. She’d kicked him out of her cabin, an alien alone on a strange world with only her Grandfather’s clothes on his back. He was probably already freezing, or worse, and it was all her fault. All because she’d gotten angry and now didn’t even know why.

Darcy opened the bedroom door slowly to find Bear laying by the door. The big dog got up, wagging his tail wearily and Darcy sank to her knees, giving him a big hug. “I’m sorry, boy,” she whispered into his thick fur. “I forgot about dinner again, didn’t I?”

Dinner! Shit, she’d left a pot boiling on the stove. Darcy didn’t smell anything burning and when she raced into the kitchen she saw why. Someone had turned off the burner. Someone had picked up the cutting board and knife and carefully placed them back on the counter. Stianger obviously. Bear might have had a hand in cleaning up the celery from the floor, but unless he’d grown opposable thumbs she didn’t think he could have managed the rest.

Sighing, Darcy lifted the lid to the pot and looked at the congealed mess inside. Now she felt even worse. She’d blown her top with Stianger and he’d taken the time to tidy the kitchen and make sure the cabin didn’t burn down before he’d left. She was the worst host ever. There was nothing for it though. Peering out the window she couldn’t see any tracks heading in or out of the woods. Stianger had probably followed the freshly plowed driveway to leave and who knew where he was now.

She had to find him. Or rather, she had to try. Maybe she could catch back up with him. Apologize. While she doubted that he would want to come back to stay with her in the cabin again the least she could do was try to find him a safer place to land.

SHEILD still seemed like a bad idea considering that Stianger thought he was there to be tortured. Maybe Thor could come by and pick him up? She hadn’t seen that big lug in months. Stianger wasn’t Asgardian, but maybe he’d be happier surrounded by other aliens while on Earth. Not to mention that Thor could probably get Stianger back to wherever he wanted to go. Or at least help defend him from whoever had sewn his mouth shut and made him expect to be tortured on Earth. She should have called Thor from the start instead of trying to deal with this on her own. After all, she’d completely fucked things up and it hadn’t even been 48 hours.

Hurrying to the bathroom, Darcy jumped into the shower and did the fastest wash ever. The water hadn’t even the time to heat up before she was rinsing the shampoo out of her hair and scrubbing the blood off her face. Barely toweling dry she rushed naked into her bedroom and put on the first set of warm clothes she could find. She brushed her hair, still wet, and plaited it into a messy braid before shoving on a beanie. Wool socks and she was ready, headed for the door.

Bear looked excited as she put on her coat and did up her winter boots. He yipped at the door, tail wagging madly as she wound her scarf around her neck. Grabbing her gloves and her keys Darcy opened the door and Bear dashed out, making a beeline for the snow.

She’d take the car, Darcy decided, shutting the front door behind her and heading for the garage. Depending on how far Stianger had gone the car would let her catch up much quicker. She’d follow whatever tracks she could find down the driveway and brave the snow if she saw them heading off into the woods. Besides, if Stianger had collapsed again it would be easier to get him back to the cabin if she had the car then trying to drag him back on her own.

Darcy unlocked the garage, hit the door opener, and opened up the trunk of her car as the big garage doors squeaked open. The garage had been a Stark addition but she wasn’t about to complain about not having to take the time to scrape the car off every time she went anywhere.

“Bear! In the car!” she shouted. Bear jumped eagerly into the back, tail wagging madly. Going in the car was his favorite thing in the world. Darcy had a feeling it was because the dog thought that they were going to find her Grandfather, but pushed that aside. No maudlin thoughts when she was already beating herself up over kicking her alien out into the snow.

Looking at Bear in the car made Darcy realize something. If Stianger had collapsed in the snow even getting him back to the SUV could be more than she could handle on her own. She needed to get Bear’s harness and sled. That had worked pretty well the first time. The snowshoes too so she wouldn’t struggle as much through the thick snow.

“Stay here,” she told Bear who ignored her the instant she turned away from the car. He raced ahead of her to the shed, panting eagerly before peeling off to dive into a snowdrift. Silly dog.

Darcy shoved open the shed door, reaching for the the harness when she noticed the shape on the floor. Stianger was there, leaned up against some shelves and staring blankly out the small building’s sole window. For a second she thought he had died, frozen to death with his eyes open, but then he blinked slowly. Other then that he didn’t move an inch, not even when Darcy tapped one of his sprawled out legs with her boot.

“Stianger?” she said, voice wobbling. All that worry that he’d wandered off and here he was. Easiest rescue ever. “Stianger, what are you doing here?”

He blinked again moving so slowly it was like someone had put him on half time. “I did not know where else to go,” he finally rumbled. He sounded miserable and looked it too. From deep within Darcy she heard the tiny trill of truth and her heart broke for him.

Darcy sat down on the floor, headless of the snow she’d tracked in. It crusted against her pants and she knew she was going to have a wet ass soon, but that didn’t bother her. “Stianger, I’m sorry. I lost my temper last night and you didn’t deserve that. I shouldn’t have kicked you out of the cabin and I wanted to apologize to you. You can come back if you want. I’ll make us some breakfast.”

No response. The alien just continued to stare out the window as if it was the only thing in the world to look at.

Darcy glanced out it as well but only saw a cracked pane, dirty glass, and the impression of branches covered with snow out the window. Nothing that made it interesting. She looked back to Stianger, worrying her lip. “Aren’t you cold?”

Stianger shrugged. It look like it took a lot of effort but it was enough to make Darcy wince. Apparently a non-answer was as bad as a lie and her head began to pound again softly. Sighing, she reached up and rubbed her brow.

“Stianger, I have something I need to tell you. It’s part of the reason I was so upset last night… Do you know what a mutant is?”

While his gaze didn’t shift away from the window at all Darcy had the feeling she’d gotten his attention. Something in the way his body shifted seemed to say that he was listening to her at last even though his response was a dull, “No.”

“A mutant is a kind of human with a little bit extra to them. Sort of human plus,” Darcy said. She didn’t know how to explain it, but she knew she had to try. If Stianger knew about how she could detect lies, even lies where feelings didn’t match actions, then maybe they wouldn’t have another repeat of last night’s incident. “Don’t ask me about what part of our DNA has mutated, but whatever gene it is causes weird powers in humans. Ones that we ordinarily shouldn’t have. Some mutants grow wings and can fly. Some get super smart or super fast. There’s this one guy you see on TV all the time, this mutant-rights terrorist guy, who can manipulate metal with his mind. Like stop bullets in mid-air, toss cars around like toys, the whole nine yards.”

At last Stianger looked at her, his expression unreadable in the dim light. “And you also possess a power such as that?”

Darcy winced. And not because of her actual mutant powers, but because of how lame her answer was about to be. “Not exactly. While some mutants have powers like that, I don’t. All I can do is tell when people are lying and last night… Well, your body language was saying one thing but your eyes were saying another and I guess it sort of triggered my powers. That sort of thing gives me migraines and it made me flip out on you and I’m sorry. I’ll try not to let it happen again. If you help me and try not to lie that is.”

Stianger stared at her for a long, long moment that seemed to drag on and on with every beat of her heart. “Prove it.”

“What?”

“Prove it,” he repeated. His gaze seemed to sharpen, red eyes blazing.

Darcy blinked and swallowed, unconsciously fiddling with her gloves. The air had seemed to change in the tiny cabin and suddenly she felt like a bug under Stianger’s bright red gaze. “Prove what? That I’m sorry?”

“No, girl. Prove to me that what you said about your powers is true.”

Girl? Really? She was pretty sure he knew her name. Well, maybe. Darcy tried to roll her eyes but instead just felt self conscious and awkward as her butt slowly went numb due to the melted snow she’d sat in. “Fine,” she said, wavering under his eyes. “Let’s play two truths and a lie. Tell me two things that are true and one thing that is a lie and I’ll tell you which one is which.”

Gaze still burning, Stianger nodded his head slowly. He seemed to consider a long moment before beginning to speak. “Once I visited a realm where the sky was as pink as a virgin’s blush and the air tasted of honey. The beings there subsisted entirely on the leaves of a lotus plant which caused euphoria and hallucinations to all that consumed it. They spent their entire lives under the influence of that drug, making love and spending their days in abandon. I nearly joined them there, but before I could fall sway to the plant I fled to continue my travels.”

True. But kind of creepy. Apparently the land of the lotus eaters was something that actually existed out there in space instead of just in the pages of Homer. Darcy nodded and gestured for him to go on.

Stianger sat up a bit straighter, eyes intently focused on her. “My mother is not a kind woman,” he said. “It was she who handed me over to my misery and would gladly see me returned to it. It was she who prescribed the realms I would travel to and the hardships I was to face in each one. If you were to contact her and apprise her of my location she would reward you greatly. She may even send you my skin to decorate your floor once she was done with me.”

Lie. Also, what kind of lie was that? Trying to suppress a wince, Darcy nodded again.

Leaning in, the faintest smirk crossing Stianger’s lips he told his final truth. “Far away, beyond the realms that you know, is a place where a single maiden dwells. No one knows how long she’s been there, not even the woman herself, but she has been there for as long as memory and may have dwelled there since the beginnings of time. Every day she goes to a well, stands above it, and weeps great tears over her lonely plight. Over the eons she has filled it to overflowing. It is said that if one was to brave her realm and drink of the well they would gain true immortality, perfect health, and the knowledge of the universe. Yet it is also said that to do so risks certain death for as lonely as the maiden is, she hungers even more.”

Again, creepy as fuck but also true. Glad it was over, Darcy smiled at him. “The middle one was the lie, the other two were true,” she said. “See? Happy now?”

Stianger’s smile grew. “All were lies.”

Darcy blinked. “What? But that’s impossible. Ever since my powers manifested I’ve been able to sense lies everywhere. They ran tests to prove it. Lots of tests!”

Looking satisfied, Stianger’s head tilted from one side to another as he regarded her carefully. “I believe that you are sensing something, last night was proof enough that something ails you, but it is not precisely the difference between truth and lies that causes you pain. Not even the Fates would be so cruel as to put me into the thrall of someone who can sense lies.” He smirked, as if at some private joke. “No, what you sense is something else, but similar. I wonder what precisely it is.”

She didn’t follow. Not exactly. The way Stianger was looking at her, he seemed to be looking for something that wasn’t there. She wasn’t sure what he wanted, but she also didn’t like it. Also, he seemed to be taking this news awfully well even though he disagreed with what she said her powers did. Had something else happened?

“Last night, as you shouted at me, your eyes wept blood,” Stianger said, answering her unspoken question. “It was alarming. I was not under the impression that such a thing was common in humans and wondered of the cause.”

Well that explained the blood on her face. And it was also new. Or at least she didn’t remember that happening the first time her powers activated. “It’s not common,” she said and couldn’t help but wonder what was wrong with her. If inviting Stianger back into her cabin was a bad idea after all. Maybe she should just stick with this morning’s plan and call Thor to pick her alien up. Shifting and feeling uncomfortable under his intense gaze, Darcy scowled at him. “Well can we at least wonder about what a freak I am inside? It’s colder than a harpy’s tit out here and I still want breakfast.”

Stianger’s eyes seemed to dim at that but he nodded, getting to his feet. Scrambling up as well Darcy headed out the door, shutting it behind the blue alien as he exited. As soon as they were both outside, Bear bounded over woofing excitedly as his new best friend reappeared. A hint of a smile on his face, Stianger buried his hands in the dog’s fur, giving him a scratch behind the ears.

“When I was a boy I was gifted a creature such as this,” he said, voice almost wistful. “They live such brief lives, like a candle to be snuffed out too soon, but I was never more happy when I had that beast by my side.”

Any other time Darcy would have labelled that as a truth but if Stianger was right about her powers then she had no idea what to call it. Probably still a truth. Instead she scowled at him more deeply, marching through the snow back towards the cabin. “Come on. I don’t understand why you’re not freezing to death out here, but just because you aren’t doesn’t mean I want to.” She turned back to call for Bear only to stop.

Stianger was standing on top of the snow. Like literally on top of a snow drift right next to where her footprints had broken through. His blue feet gleamed on top of the snowbank.

Pointing, Darcy’s jaw dropped. “Oh that’s not fucking fair!” she protested.

Looking down at his own feet, Stianger frowned. “My kind are adapted to cold conditions,” he said, not sounding particularly pleased about it.

“Yeah, well, you’re now on Bear duty for as long as you’re here. That means taking him outside for potty breaks, taking him on runs, everything outside and Bear related is your job now. And the snow shoveling! Not all of us are strangely immune to cold and can walk on top of snow like some sort of damn Legolas.”

Stianger shrugged again as Darcy turned back around and continued to march back to the cabin. He caught up easily, feet crunching lightly on top of the snow while she punched through. “What is a Legolas?”

“Seriously? Oh my god, we need to educate you. I don’t care how much it hurts, I have six DVDs of Lord of the Rings Extended Editions that you need to watch, stat.”

*****

Breakfast had been an awkward affair. Darcy hadn’t felt much like cooking and had tried to get away with cereal and feeding Stianger PopTarts. From the expression on his face he’d not been impressed and she’d caved, cooking him the last of the eggs and bacon.

It hadn’t been all bad though. While she had cooked Stianger had relit the extinguished wood stove and warmth was starting to flow through the cabin again. He’d also fed Bear when she told him how, nose wrinkling at the kibble but he seemed satisfied when Bear eagerly scarfed it down. Right as she set the table he vanished briefly to change, putting on the other set of her Grandfather’s clothes and washing his face and hands before joining her at the kitchen table.

They sat at the table together and ate, this time Stianger apparently not minding that she could watch him eat. Maybe yesterday was because he kept expecting her to take away his food or stab him while he ate or something? She didn’t know. What she did know was that Stianger could put food away like nobody’s business. Clean and precise in his movements he ate neatly and politely, but packed in more than she would have expected. He even looked a bit disappointed when he was done, looking over at the fridge and narrowing his eyes as if blaming it for running out of eggs and bacon.

When at last he was done he carefully set his knife and fork down on his plate and drew his mug of coffee closer. He looked at her again and Darcy decided that officially she did not like that look as he regarded her more like a puzzle to be solved then an actual human being. “These powers of yours, from your tone it sounds as if they are a recent addition. Under what circumstances did they manifest?”

Darcy scowled and wished she had something besides cereal in front of her. It would have felt really nice to stab at something. “You need new clothes,” she said, ignoring his question. “I mean I can put Gramps’ clothes in the wash for you, but you look ridiculous. We need to get you something else to wear.”

Stianger raised an eyebrow at her, cocking his head to one side. “I’m afraid I don’t have the figure to do any of your clothing justice,” he deadpanned.

To both of their surprise, Darcy laughed. She grinned at him, feeling warmth spread through her. “Hey, that was a joke! You told a joke!”

Lips pursing, Stianger looked away from her and sipped his coffee. “Humor is also known on my realm,” he sniffed.

“Yeah, but so far you’ve been all grim and blarg and ‘why aren’t you torturing me, Darcy?’” she said, still grinning. Maybe making fun of the recently tortured alien about his torture wasn’t a good idea and she dropped it. “So what do you say, want to go shopping?”

“I do require new garments,” Stianger muttered, more to himself than her as he gazed down at his new ensemble. He was wearing the other shirt her Grandfather had left behind, an orange plaid, and it didn’t suit. Besides the fact that it was still too short and way too tight the color also looked awful against his blue skin. “How does obtaining garments work in your realm? Will measurements sent to a tailor suffice?”

If anything Darcy’s grin widened. “Dude, nobody gets made-to-measure clothes anymore unless it’s something super fancy. It’s all off the rack for us plebs.”

Lips twisting in displeasure, he sighed. “Ah. Then I shall send you with the measurements.”

“Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to come with.”

Stianger stared at her as if she’d gone mad or perhaps only sprouted a second head. He glanced down at himself, gaze lingering on his own blue skin with its raised ridges and he frowned. “I will not exactly blend in here in your realm,” he said, voice distant and harsh.

A feeling almost like disgust rolled up through Darcy and she touched her mouth, swallowing back bile. Had the milk gone wrong? Pushing through it she focused on Stianger, forcing a smile as she tried to concentrate on breathing over her roiling stomach. “I told you about mutants, right? There are blue mutants,” she said confidently. That was mostly the truth too. She was almost certain she’d seen pictures of blue mutants before. “Or we can tell people the truth and tell them you’re from space. The Asgardians made it to Earth, people know that aliens are real.”

Eyes shooting up, Stianger stared at her with something akin to shock on his face. “The people of Asgard made it to this realm?” he asked quietly. “They survived?”

“Uh, yeah. Not many of them though,” Darcy said. Her stomach thankfully settled as she thought of poor Thor and the rag-tag party of refugees that had somehow braved space to make it to Earth. “Between whatever happened to Asgard, trouble on the way, and the Snap there weren’t many left. The ones that did made it to Earth, though they’re still trying to figure things out.”

Nodding slowly, Stianger stared at his coffee cup. “The Snap. You have referred to it multiple times. What event are you referencing?”

Loss. Profound loss that she could barely begin to explain. Darcy thought of Jane, dissolving into ash right in front of her eyes in the middle of lunch. Of turning and seeing the same happen to Erik. Of not getting any of her frantic calls returned as she tried to reach her family only to hear from Maria Hill that they’d been taken as well. Wetting her lips, Darcy took a deep breath.

“Thanos,” she said and saw Stianger stiffen. “He came here, to Earth, looking for some things called Infinity Stones. He found them, put them all together and-“ She snapped her fingers, the sound almost echoing in the quiet of the cabin. “Half of the universe’s population was gone. Just like that. I lost a lot of the people I loved. My mom. My dad. My brother and Grandpa… My friend Jane. They were all just gone in an instant and there was nothing I could do. Nothing that anyone could do.”

“Thanos. I know of Thanos,” Stianger said softly. “The Mad Titan. I knew of him and for a time I even served him. My only regret is that I-“ He stopped, eyes closing in pain before he reopened them slowly. “It is no matter. It is in the past now, no matter how much I may desire that I had done things differently.”

He’d served Thanos? Darcy didn’t like the sound of that but it fit with what she’d read about the Kree. She’d have to let it pass for now. Stianger did seem sorry enough about that part of his past. “What about you? If you didn’t even know about the Snap then what about your family? I know some people if you want to try and contact them.”

Shaking his head, Stianger smiled bitterly. “I lost my family long ago. What remains of it would never wish to see me. I have failed them too many times. They’re better off thinking me dead.”

That was… truth. And lies. Complicated. Darcy felt as if her head should be pounding but instead felt bittersweet as she watched her alien sit there stewing in his own thoughts and private pain. It couldn’t have been as bad as that though, could it? She really needed to call Thor. Maybe even Stark. Between the two of them they’d know what to do with Stianger and maybe even get him back where he belonged. It really couldn’t be so bad that his own family wouldn’t want him anymore, could it?

“Does the King of Asgard still live?” Stianger asked, breaking the silence.

“No,” Darcy said softly. Stianger’s shoulders stiffened and Darcy frowned. “Well, maybe yes. It depends on which one you mean. The old King, Odin, he died. That had something to do with why Asgard fell. I’m not all that sure what. But there’s a new King. King Thor. He’s here on Earth with his people.”

Nodding, Stianger’s eyes drifted shut and he smiled faintly. “The people of Asgard will survive with their King to lead them. He is a good man. He will be a good king.”

There was something strange in Stianger’s voice, something she couldn’t really pin down. “Do you know Thor?” she asked, frowning.

“Not as well as I should.”

And that was confusing. Somehow a truth and a lie all mixed together in a way that Darcy just couldn’t explain. Her head wasn’t hurting at least. That was a nice change of pace.

They sat there in silence as the fire in the wood stove cracked and Bear stared at them, silently begging for one of them to put down their plate for him to lick. At last Stianger took a deep breath and looked at her. “If I was to say that I was like you, a mutant, I would be accepted by your people?”

Darcy frowned. “Well, not really. People can be like super racist, especially against obvious mutants. It kinda, sorta, really incredibly sucks. Mutant is still easier to explain then alien though. Especially since the only aliens Earth has had a lot of experience with are the Asgardians and those Chitauri things that attacked New York.”

Discomfort filled Darcy as she shifted in her seat. Stianger didn’t look particularly relieved, in fact he looked shut down as he went back to staring at his empty mug of coffee. It was harder than she expected to air humanity’s dirty laundry and tell Stianger why people on Earth wouldn’t like him solely for the color of his skin. She wasn’t going to go all out and tell him about slavery and every reason humanity sucked about racism, but still. Darcy found that she just couldn’t stop talking. She just kept going, likely just making the situation worse.

“There was a lot of really vile stuff in the news when the Asgardians got here,” she said. “My country is not the best when it comes to immigrants and even though the Asgardians are all these huge, beautiful, super models of a people there was a lot of people online saying that we shouldn’t let them stay on Earth at all. In the end Norway took them in because the Asgardians really didn’t have anywhere else to go and, you know, Norse mythology. Asgard. They sort of fit right into the cultural landscape.”

“Norway is where?”

“Europe. That’s like, a quarter of the way around the planet? On the other side of the ocean and way north compared to here.” Darcy hesitated, the urge to call Thor rising up in her again. “Do you want to go to Norway? I’m sure we could find a way to get you there if you think you’d be more comfortable with other aliens.”

A cruel smirk crossed Stianger’s lips and he shook his head. “They would not be pleased to see me,” he said and that was the truth all the way through. “So claiming to be a mutant, a being hated and reviled by your people, would still be preferable to admitting that I am from another realm. How welcoming your people are.”

“Yeah, but like I said, we hate and revile mutants a little bit less than the extraterrestrials.” Darcy smiled weakly and her smile was not met. “Things are different after the Snap. Our planet went from over seven billion people to a little over three point five in an instant. There’s been a lot of problems keeping supply lines running and even with fewer people around it’s still been hard keeping everyone fed. If it hadn’t been for Stark Industries stepping in most of the world would have dissolved into chaos as services broke down.”

“Stark Industries. The Man of Iron,” Stianger muttered under his breath. She was about to ask him how he’d known about Stark when he looked up at her, his gaze fierce. “If it would suit my situation better I shall say that I am one of your mutants,” he said firmly. “I wish to go out and see your world. Of the damage that has been wrought.”

Darcy smiled at him. “Plus, you’d like some clothes that fit,” she grinned.

A smile cracked Stianger’s lips and he nodded. “Yes. In addition I would enjoy having clothing more suited to me. When do we leave?”

Glancing at the clock, Darcy made a face. It was already almost noon. So much for an early start. “Let me throw a load of laundry into the washer and we can go. It’s a bit of a haul in to town. We can swing by Walmart to at least get you something that fits before we hit the city to get you something you’d actually like. We can pick up groceries and a pizza or something on the way home.”

Gathering up the breakfast dishes, Darcy dumped them into the sink to deal with later while Stianger scowled in obvious displeasure. With a sigh he went to the sink to wash them while Darcy stripped the bed of her bloody mess and tossed it into the washer with extra detergent and bleach. That probably wasn’t how you were supposed to clean out blood, but honestly she didn’t care. She’d just put the bloody end on the foot side of the bed and call it good enough.

Texting Friday that she was taking a sick day, Darcy grabbed her purse and double checked that her wallet was inside. “Come on Bear! This time you’re getting that car ride,” she said.

Stianger actually looked wary as he followed her outside, hesitating as she loaded Bear into the back of the SUV. He got into the passenger seat when Darcy opened the door for him, clumsily getting his seatbelt in place after she showed him how. As they backed out of the garage and Darcy hit the door button he fussed with the strap of his seatbelt and looked unsure.

“How am I to interact with the people of your realm when I encounter them?” he asked, staring stock straight out the window. “Are there things I must do to not draw offense?”

Darcy forced a smile at him. This was really happening. Shit. What had she been thinking suggesting a field trip to Stianger? Sure, he looked way better, his lips barely had any blood on them anymore, but he was completely blue. Blueberry blue. Smurf blue! Pushing down the absolute dread at her terrible, horrible, no good idea she put her car into gear. “Vermont’s a stronghold of liberal hippies,” she said, voice light. “Just tell people that you like maple syrup and everything will be fine.”

Or rather she hoped everything would be fine. Please, let everything be fine.

Stianger looked at her, alarm crossing his face. “What is maple syrup?”

Not being able to stop herself, Darcy laughed. “Remind me to add that to the shopping list. It sounds like tomorrow we’re going to need pancakes.”

The cabin faded into the distance behind them the air going still and cold. When the car was well out of sight a figure stepped out from behind the trees. Glaring at where the retreating lights of where the car had gone it looked back at the cabin and scowled. With that it turned and vanished back into the woods, not a single footprint appearing in its wake to say that anyone had been there.

Things were not going as expected. The King needed to be informed.

Chapter Text

In a lot of ways it was actually surprising that the local Walmart was still operational. The shelves were sparse, only one checkout lane was open, but there were still people shopping. People still walked the aisles, filled up carts. They still checked prices against their shopping lists. Kids still begged for candy and snacks from their mothers as they trailed them around the store.
 
Considering everything that had happened recently that was a goddamn miracle.
 
Darcy had locked herself into her apartment for the worst of it. After watching Jane dissolve before her eyes, after hearing what had happened to her family, she’d retreated to bed and hadn’t been able to get out. So she’d missed the majority of the world’s agonized throes as it learned to cope with half of its population vanishing in an instant. The anarchy of it all as the country’s leaders vanished and everyone realizing that neither the President nor the Vice President had been immune from the Snap. The rush for resources as everyone tried to grab everything they thought they needed to survive all at once. The rumbles of war as the shattered remains of various world governments pointed fingers at each other trying to find someplace to assign the blame.
 
She’d read the reports after. How planes had crashed out of the sky and cars had spun off the road, their driver’s suddenly vanished. Death cults appeared. People screamed that it was the end of the world. That God had forsaken them. That God was punishing them. That God had never been real. So much chaos, so much pain.
 
And into that quagmire stepped the Star Spangled Man with a Plan. When no one else was there to lead, Captain America stepped in and with sheer force of will got people to listen. It didn’t work everywhere, not every country rightly would trust the living embodiment of American spirit, but it worked here at least. People calmed down, starting to learn to live with their loss. The global temperature cooled as the thought of more death made people ill. When Stark Industries stepped in, forcing its way into the global scene with technology and determination to get services back up and supply chains operating again, no one had protested.
 
Banner had told her after she’d emerged from her self-exile how difficult that had been for him. How even the good old Captain had wanted to lick his wounds and mourn the lost. That he had stepped up anyway only made him seem like more of a hero to Darcy’s eyes.
 
Now, even though it was only a year later, things could almost be mistaken for normal. Or at least the new normal.
 
Pushing her cart through the aisles, Darcy noted the gaps in the products. There was only two kinds of barbecue sauce, the bread was looking awfully sparse, but there were things to buy. There were still plenty of kinds of cereal to pick from and Darcy grabbed a box of Cheerios because she hadn’t seen that in a while. Factories were coming back online. Some due to automation, helpfully provided thanks to Stark Industries, but people were also getting back to work. In a few years she imagined that you wouldn’t even know that the world had almost ended due to a Snap.
 
The world would never be the same, but at least it wouldn’t be too different.
 
Rolling her way into the men’s clothing section, Darcy wrinkled her nose. Sparser then she’d hoped, but that was to be expected. Most of the clothes pre-Snap had come from China and from what little she’d read, China was reeling harder than most countries over losing its people. Going from over a billion people to 500 million had to be tough, especially since most of their economy had been based on having a never-ending supply of workforce eager to be put to use. Last she’d heard there’d even been riots in Beijing. There was talk of the one party system collapsing entirely. If the Party couldn’t protect them, what could be trusted?
 
Thanos had a lot to answer for.
 
Shaking those gloomy thoughts out of her head, Darcy tried to focus on the mission at hand. Clothes. Her tall skinny alien would be hard to fit with the selection available. Not to mention she didn’t have him with her. In the end she’d chickened out at the thought of taking him out into public and asked him to stay in the car, fleeing into the store before he could look betrayed or get snippy with her. She’d been the one who’d insisted that everything was fine, but in the end she’d been the one to force him to stay in the car. At least he had Bear to keep him company.
 
Grabbing a bag of socks that looked big enough for Stianger’s magical snow walking feet was easy. Underwear took another minute until she made the command decision that he was definitely the boxers kind of gent. After that her options dried up and she was wandering the half-empty racks of clothes, glaring at them as if they’d personally offended her. None of the jeans looked long enough for his giraffe legs and they didn’t have a single pair of slacks anywhere in the men’s section. She really needed to get him to a real store.
 
In the end she settled on sweatpants, size XXL, but at least they looked long enough. And drawstrings were easy. After that she really didn’t care anymore. None of this stuff was really going to work and she just needed something that would let him blend in long enough to get him into a real store and shopping. Not like Stianger could exactly blend in with his blue skin or red eyes, but still. Happy thoughts.
 
A t-shirt and a black hoodie rounded out her clothes selections and voilà! Her alien now had the uniform of disenfranchised teens everywhere. She hoped he’d appreciate it. Grabbing a pair of the largest sized sneakers in stock Darcy made for the checkout lines, piling junk food and soda on top of the clothes to make it slightly less obvious she was only there for men’s clothes. 
 
Thrusting the bag of clothes at Stianger as soon as she got back into the car, Darcy forced a smile at his petulant look as he opened the bags. “What are these?” he asked, holding up a single red sneaker with disgust. 
 
“Human clothes,” Darcy said, dripping false cheer. “Come on, dude. It’s not so bad. It’s just until we can get to the city and buy you some proper things.”
 
Stianger sniffed derisively, not saying but obviously wondering loudly whether Darcy would let him out of the car at their next destination. He continued to rummage, face growing more and more annoyed with every discovery. “Honestly now,” Stianger said, revulsion dripping. He’d found the t-shirt, his nose wrinkling at the image of the Incredible Hulk, the big cartoon bubble shouting ‘Hulk Smash!’ on the front. “You must be joking.”
 
“I was in a rush. Besides, the Hulk is cool,” Darcy defended. What she wanted to say was that Doctor Banner was cool. He’d been so nice to her after the Snap, trying to help her figure out her powers once they manifested. He’d even offered to take her on as a lab tech until she’d realized that working with him reminded her too much of Jane and turning it down. He still sent her emails just to check up, asking after her like he really cared if she was doing okay. But telling Stianger that, even if he didn’t recognize that it would be weird that she knew so many of Earth’s greatest heroes, didn’t seem like a good idea for some reason. To him she was just this normal, boring little human and she really wanted him to keep thinking about her that way. If nothing else she didn’t want him to start to wonder why she hadn’t hooked him up with anyone who would help him get home. She kept meaning to… But she couldn’t force herself to make the call no matter how much she psyched herself up to it. “Like I said, it’s just for a couple hours. You can survive a silly t-shirt for a couple hours.”
 
Stianger glared at her suspiciously before sighing deeply. Dropping the offending item, his hands went to the buttons of the plaid shirt he wore, popping them open with ruthless efficiency. There was no shame in this one. 
 
“Dude,” Darcy said and then said it louder when he didn’t stop. “Dude! Are you seriously going to do that here?”
 
“Where am I supposed to change? In the shop you said I was to not enter? Shall I go out into the street and change there?” he demanded peevishly. He had a point but she also really didn’t want him changing in the seat next to her. Awkward would be an understatement.
 
“Well no, but, uh... Maybe the backseat?”
 
Stianger glared at her and unclicked his seatbelt. He stepped outside and went to the back without a word, slamming the car door shut behind him. With quiet pops he undid the remaining buttons. “If I’m back here there’s no excuse for you to watch,” he said shortly, practically ripping her Grandfather’s shirt off.
 
Flushing hard, Darcy snapped her eyes forward. “Right, fine,” she muttered under her breath. She could feel the heat burning under her skin. It’s not like she’d been trying to ogle, it’s just that he was there. And blue! How could you not look at the blue guy? She picked at her steering wheel cover feeling embarrassed and annoyed. “Not like I haven’t seen it all already.”
 
The sound of outraged silence from the backseat was deafening. 
 
Darcy felt her blush intensify as she kept her eyes steadfastly forward. The rustle of clothing resumed, apparently Stianger was not so insulted that he’d given up entirely on changing. That long rustle of sound with Stianger swearing under his breath and moving to shake the car? That was his pants coming off. She had a pant-less alien in her car now. His naked ass cheeks were on her leather upholstery. She determinedly kept her eyes forward. Not that seeing him naked hadn’t been so bad the first time. Despite his blue skin and the weird skin ridges that went all the way down he’d not looked all that much different from a human. At least where it counted. For that matter, Thor looked pretty much human as well. And she knew from a giggling Jane back when the two of them were an item that he had all relevant parts present, accounted for, and operational.
 
Somehow she flushed even hotter. No. Bad Darcy! She was dealing with an alien torture victim who probably had all sorts of space PTSD from, you know, the literal torture he’d been through. There was no need for her to creep on him. Just because he was male, interesting looking, and she kinda liked him didn’t mean he’d be keen on letting her jump him. Even if she was in the longest dry spell of her life since discovering sex as a teen.
 
She was trying her very best to not think of anything sexual at all, especially not his penis, when Stianger leaned forward and thrust fabric in front of her face. “What are these?” he demanded, waving the boxers under her nose.
 
“Boxers,” she said. Looking back at him she was only somewhat relieved to see that he’d already put on the t-shirt and sweatpants. “Underwear. You know, for wearing under your pants.”
 
“Pants,” Stianger repeated flatly, giving her a look. 
 
“You know jeans, slacks, shorts... the long things you wear on your bottom half.”
 
“Breeches,” Stianger corrected her, sounding like an annoyed Elizabethan earl. He sighed deeply, pulling it back to gaze at them. “Are they required?”
 
“Uh.... no?”
 
Stianger tossed them over his shoulder to Bear and rummaged through the bag again. Well that answered some questions, Darcy thought to herself as she tried and utterly failed to control her blush. So he was the commando sort. So what? She mentally tried to beat her brain into submission. Stianger didn’t struggle with the socks though he quietly complained that ‘this hose is too short.’ The shoes however...
 
“Why is this so difficult?” he growled, struggling with the laces. “Hasn’t your people heard of buckles?”
 
“Want me to tie them?” Darcy offered. Tying his shoes for him was safe. She’d never had a foot fetish. Wisely, she also didn’t point out that people taught toddlers how to tie their own shoes. “I’m sure that where you come from everything is perfectly tailored bespoke wear, but here laces are easy when you don’t know what exactly the foot shape is going to be.”
 
“It’s a foot. How many shapes are possible?” Stianger grumbled, but he thrust his foot through the gaps in the front seats and watched carefully as Darcy tied his shoe. He did the second one himself, mimicking her perfectly. Fast learner. She wondered what other things he could learn quickly.
 
“You are correct though. Where I come from the garments are designed to fit their wearers. This is none of these... slapdash efforts to force a proper fit.” As if to prove a point he yanked at the drawstring of his sweatpants, pulling it in, in, in with a little grumble of disgust. 
 
“It’s comfy at least, right?” Darcy asked. She tried not to stare at the narrowness of his waist, instead focusing on how ridiculous he looked in that t-shirt. Which he filled out remarkably well considering he was just an overgrown bean pole.
 
“The fabric is cheap and the weave is strange. I doubt that it will hold up to many wearings and it has a strange scent,” Stianger complained. He picked at the fabric, glaring down at the Hulk on his chest before looking up at her. His face went strangely soft as he pursed his lips and refused to meet her eyes. “How do I look?”
 
Darcy thought he looked ridiculous and she thought he looked disturbingly good. She also thought that she’d like to climb into the backseat and ruin the clothing she’d just bought him by yanking it off with violence as she kissed him. Before she could figure out which thought to voice Stianger’s eyes flashed and he drew back into his seat. His expression hardened and Darcy was about to ask him what was wrong when there was a tap on her driver’s side window. Jumping, Darcy turned. While she halfway expected to see a SHEILD agent on the other side of the glass, it was just some middle aged lady. Darcy recognized her from the town’s sorry excuse for a library.
 
As the woman waved cheerily at her, Darcy rolled down her window. She was blond, fifty-ish, and plump, beaming that sort of fake sweetness that instantly set Darcy’s nerves on edge and started her head low-grade pounding. About a pound of Avon makeup on her face, the woman’s face split into a wide, false, grin. “You’re James’ granddaughter, right? The one up in his cabin all by your lonesome? Fancy seeing you here!”
 
“That’s me all right. Darcy Lewis,” she said, faking a smile. She could practically feel Stianger staring at them both and all that she could hope was that he’d stay still enough that he’d be overlooked. “Yeah, I mean it’s quite the surprise. Why would anybody be at Walmart? It’s not like there’s anywhere else to shop.”
 
The woman’s smile faltered for half a second before shining back in full force. She stuck her hand through the open car window, still beaming. “Karen Brown. I work in the library. Run it now, I suppose.”
 
“Nice to meet you,” Darcy muttered. She started up the SUV, annoyed for the first time that the mini-arc reactor it ran on didn’t make a peep as the engine came to life. “Well, I’ve got to be going-“ she started, but it was too late.
 
Karen turned her head and peered deeper into the car. “And who’s this with you…“
 
To Karen’s credit she didn’t scream as she caught sight of Stianger. Instead she froze, jaw dropping and letting out a little hoarse gasping noise that was probably a sound so high pitched it was only audible to dogs. Bear let out a bark, proving her theory. In a way Darcy really couldn’t blame her, in the gloom of the poor winter light, dressed mostly in black, Stianger was just a dark figure with brightly glowing red eyes. He probably looked like a monster or a demon back there. Darcy just hoped that he wasn’t smiling. She’d seen his teeth when she’d cut the stitches around his mouth. They were pretty creepy. Very sharp.
 
“Karen!” Darcy said loudly before the woman could regain enough brain function to scream or faint. “Let me introduce you to my cousin...” She mentally fished for a name. “Steve!”
 
‘Steve’ shot her a look and slowly moved so he was more visible. She didn’t know if it helped considering the little whining noise Karen was making but at least he looked less like a demon as he shifted into the light enough to be seen. “Hello,” he said, sullenly. 
 
Karen stared at him, eyes widening. “C-cousin?” she stammered, starting to recover. “But he’s... he’s...”
 
“A mutant? Yeah,” Darcy filled in quickly. “It’s really sad, you know? The way people treat mutants. Steve’s parents got taken in the, you know, too so I told him to come up to stay with me for a while. Everyone’s just been so kind to me since I got here I just knew they’d treat Steve the same way.”
 
“Mutant,” Karen whispered. She swallowed and nodded slowly, but the panic was retreating from her face. A frown crossed her brow. “A cousin? But James only had the one child.”
 
Of course that would be something that Karen would know right off the top of her head. Probably everyone kept track of it to prevent inbreeding in these tiny towns. Darcy’s smile grew tighter. “On my mother’s side,” she lied.
 
“Oh,” Karen said. She wet her lips, eyes still intent on ‘Steve.’ Nodding again she took a little shaky step back. “And you’re up from?”
 
“Texas,” Darcy said quickly. She tried her best to paste an exasperated look on her face as she sighed. “And you know how Texas is about mutants.”
 
That did the trick. Seizing the opportunity for a little state rivalry and regional superiority, Karen collected herself in an instant. The smile was back though it was a little weaker as she nodded sympathetically. The space behind Darcy’s eyes pounded. “Oh you poor thing,” she cooed. “Texas of all places, and you a mutant! No wonder you wanted to leave. Well let me be the first one to welcome you to Vermont. You’ll find we’re so much more accepting up here of the… differently abled.”
 
Yeah, which was why your first instinct was to scream bloody murder, Darcy thought but managed to bite that back. “You’re so kind,” she hissed out instead. 
 
Karen took another step back, smile starting to fade. “Well, if there’s anything you need...”
 
“Nope, we’re fine!” Darcy said quickly, shifting the car into gear. 
 
From the backseat Stianger cleared his throat quietly. “I enjoy maple syrup,” he said slowly, enunciating each word clearly. 
 
Darcy could have slapped him. Or maybe slapped herself. Either way it was all she could do to not slam her head against the steering wheel. However Karen’s face just lit up like a firework, her smile coming back genuinely. “Oh sweetheart, I bet you do. I’ll have my husband come on over with a gallon of last year’s batch just for you.” Her smile faltered then dropped. “Or rather, I’ll bring some over. I keep forgetting that Arny’s…”
 
Shifting the car back to park, Darcy bit the inside of her lip and looked at Karen again. This time she saw the wrinkled unwashed clothing and the frizzled hair. She was plump, yes, but in that hollow way of a woman who’d recently lost far too much weight too quickly. Her fingers worried her ring finger under the glove.
 
“The Snap?” Darcy asked quietly.
 
Karen shook her head. “Diabetes. He was type one. We couldn’t get the insulin after it happened. Supply lines,” she nearly whispered. Closing her eyes briefly she opened them and pasted a massive smile on her face. Instinctively Darcy drew back, prepared for pain but found that it wasn’t as bad as she’d thought. She just felt a little sad for the older woman in front of her. “They say that’s all fixed now though. Good thing, because I don’t know how I’d function without my magazines. My daughter’s coming to town tomorrow with her boyfriend. I don’t know when I’ll be by with that maple syrup, but I’ll bring it.”
 
Darcy smiled at her softly. “There’s no rush. Don’t worry about it if it’s too much of a hassle.”
 
“I’ll get it to you. With Arny gone I don’t know if I can handle the sugar bush on my own. This could be the last of our maple syrup and if you like it, then I’ll get you some, sweetheart,” Karen pledged. Her voice was firm, eyes almost fierce as she looked back at Stianger in the back of the car.
 
Darcy could hear him inhale sharply, breath coming out a bit ragged. “Thank you,” he said quietly.
 
Karen stepped back at that and with a too-cheerful, “Pleasure to see you both,” headed towards the store. She still seemed shaky on her feet as she walked away but Darcy could see that she was still grinning widely with her head up high as she walked away.
 
“Well that somehow went both better and worse than I expected,” Darcy muttered, rolling up the window.
 
“Sweetheart. She called me sweetheart,” Stianger said. Disapproval was heavy in his voice as he zipped up his hoodie with a huff. “I am nothing to her.”
 
“Is that seriously your biggest takeaway from all that? That she called you sweetheart?” Darcy asked. She turned to glare at him, feeling tears prick her eyes. Stianger refused to look at her, staring out the window in the opposite direction Karen was heading. “Fine. Be that way. Either get your butt back to the front seat or put your seatbelt on. We’re leaving.”
 
Without a word Stianger slipped out of the car and got back into the front. He buckled himself back in as Darcy angrily finished checking her mirrors and put the car into gear. While she really wanted to go back to the cabin and hide, she also didn’t want to have to put this shopping trip off to another day. It wouldn’t get any easier. Taking a deep breath she focused on the road and getting this day over with.
 
Leaving town behind they quickly hit the highway. It was mostly empty in the dim winter light but at least it was plowed and well salted. Darcy had been slightly worried about whether it would be maintained, but it seemed fine.
 
Her fingers itched for music. When she usually went on long car rides like this it had been an excuse to play the radio too loud and sing along poorly with all the tunes. She’d even gotten Jane to sing with her, Erik sitting in the backseat and trying not to smile as he pretended to disapprove. But she didn’t know what to tune the radio to for the classical station. And anything else was a risk. Instead she just sat in silence as Stianger gazed out the window and Bear panted loudly in the back.
 
They passed a wreck, the car barely visible under the snow. You could still see it though, the car wrapped around a tree, all the doors and windows open letting in the elements. Not every post-Snap accident had been cleaned up. Darcy had seen a lot of them driving in from NYC.
 
Stianger’s eyes lingered on it, head turning to follow it as they passed. “That woman’s husband died. Why would she give us something he’d made?” he asked, breaking the heavy silence.
 
“She was being nice. People are nice here.”
 
“She doesn’t know me,” Stianger said, voice cold. “She was frightened when she saw me. There is no reason for her to be ‘nice.’”
 
“Just because you don’t know someone doesn’t mean you can’t be kind to them,” Darcy argued. “I didn’t know you before Bear found you in the woods. Was I just supposed to let you stay tied to that tree until you starved to death or froze?”
 
Stianger didn’t respond but he didn’t have to. She could practically feel what he was thinking, the silent confirmation that he thought Darcy should have left him. She sighed, wanting to punch him on the shoulder for being an idiot while also not wanting to take her eyes off the road. Dumbass.
 
Letting him stew in his own thoughts, not knowing what to say to change his mind, Darcy focused on the road. They’d gone another few miles, not a single other car to be seen, when Stianger finally let out a sigh and shifted in his seat. He buried himself in his hoodie, shoving his blue hands into the pockets. “I don’t need her kindness,” he grumbled, pulling the hood over his long black hair.
 
This time Darcy couldn’t resist the urge to roll her eyes. “Maybe not, but it probably feels nice that she cares. Even if you’re too tough to need it.” He only snorted in response. Eyes narrowing, Darcy shot him a look and wagged a finger at him. “If Karen comes through and brings us that maple syrup it’s going to be your new favorite food, you hear?”
 
Stianger sighed dramatically and seemed to slump into his seat. “I don’t even know what it is,” he groused. “I only said it because you stated it would allow me to blend in better with your kind.”
 
“It’s your new favorite food, that’s what it is,” Darcy repeated and smiled when he no longer protested. They drove on in silence, the lengthening shadows the only change as they headed into the city.

Chapter Text

“I am beginning to question your intentions. I do believe that this is a form of torture, though the purpose is unclear,” Stianger deadpanned as he stepped out from the changing room. “Is it psychological? That seems to be the only explanation for this.”
 
Darcy laughed and cheered, clapping her hands. “You look great!” she gushed. “Like the reject pile of an LL Bean men’s catalogue.”
 
Stianger stared at her, red eyes narrowing. “I do not know what any of that means,” he said, voice peevish as he turned to face himself in the mirror. “I look ridiculous.”
 
“You look like a lumberjack!” Darcy grinned. “Lots of people want to be lumberjacks. Especially the British! They wrote a whole song about it.”
 
Having covered the drive to Burlington in almost record time, Darcy had been nervous arriving in the city. While the traffic had been lighter than expected the city still hummed with people and activity. Taking Stianger here had seemed like such a bad idea, especially when they arrived at a promising looking strip mall to find it packed. Apparently removing half of the world’s population wasn’t going to stop people from Christmas shopping.
 
Speaking of Christmas, Darcy had been shocked to see the signs proclaiming ‘Only 22 Days Until Christmas!’ posted everywhere. She’d been so caught up in her own misery and hiding in her cabin that she hadn’t even realized she’d missed Thanksgiving. Which was too bad. Stianger would probably love Thanksgiving.
 
It had taken a long time before either of them were brave enough to get out of the car. Stianger had spent a good ten minutes scowling at the milling people with their bags of shopping. On the cusp of suggesting that maybe he’d like to stay in the car again he’d surprised her by suddenly unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out. Still, he’d kept his hood down low and his hands solidly in his pockets as he followed her into the store. Glancing this way and that he’d stared at every nearby human as if they were about to jump him as Darcy led the way through the racks and started picking out clothes.
 
Hence her first choice, the lumberjack look. Darcy was ready to defend to the death that Stianger actually looked surprisingly good in it. She’d found jeans that actually fit his ridiculous long legs, a red plaid shirt, poofy vest and boom! If she could get his hair back into a man-bun and a pair of glasses on his nose he’d fit into any hipster coffee shop. It wasn’t a bad look on him by any means. 
 
Stianger twisted this way and that in front of the mirror. Grinning, Darcy thought he was trying to get a look at his own butt and wasn’t about to tell him it looked exceptionally nice in those jeans. Very firm and fit. She could bounce a quarter off that thing. Not wanting a repeat of her perverted musings from the car, Darcy tore her gaze upward to smile at the annoyed as hell look on Stianger’s face instead.
 
“Seriously, you look great. Very Vermont. You’ll fit right in with that getup.”
 
If anything, Stianger’s scowl deepened. “What even is the purpose of this garment?” he said, picking at the poofy vest. “It has no sleeves so it cannot be fully functional for warmth. It will not block a blade or blow. Yet, the size of it makes it awkward for movement.”
 
Biting her lip, she tried her hardest not to laugh at him. He was vainer than a peacock, wasn’t he? In a way it was kind of endearing that he cared so much for his appearance. Considering the way that she’d found him, mostly naked and tied to a tree, she would have thought he wasn’t the type to care what he looked like. But apparently even blue aliens were slaves to fashion. She wondered what would happen if she made the mistake of introducing him to guy liner.
 
“It’s for floatation,” she said. “Vermont being landlocked and all, the people here don’t know how to swim. So the smart ones wear vests like that in case an inopportune flood comes along.”
 
Staring at her, Stianger’s eyes narrowed. “You’re lying to me,” he said, sounding outraged.
 
She dissolved into giggles not stopping until she’d noticed Stianger go shifty, his expression tight as he gazed into the mirror. “What’s up, dude? If you really hate that outfit so much it’s fine. Go change into the next one.”
 
“People are staring at me,” Stianger said, somehow barely moving his mouth but still staying the words clearly. “I do not think I am welcome here.”
 
Despite his obvious caution Darcy looked around to see it was true. Several shoppers had stopped to stare at them, disapproval on their faces as they took in Stianger’s blue skin. She glared at them hotly, some looking abashed enough to move on while the others just glared back.
 
“Ignore them,” Darcy said firmly. “We’re here to shop and I have plenty of money to do so. If anyone tries to hassle us I can unlock my phone and start recording in less than a second. Not to mention I have a mean ‘I want to talk to your manager’ voice.”
 
“What does that mean?” Stianger asked. His shoulders had relaxed minutely but his eyes stayed trained on the people staring in the mirror.
 
“It’s a magic spell you can use against shopkeepers on Earth. It means that the person who says it is about to transform into a mega-bitch and the shopkeeper better just give them whatever they want to make them go away.” She picked up a stack of Henley shirts, offering them up. “What about these? If you’re not into plaid these are the next best thing.”
 
Frowning, Stianger picked out the green shirt from the stack and looked at it thoughtfully. He sure seemed partial to green. Not that she was complaining as it still suited his bright blue skin. “This may do. Though why do the buttons only go down part of the way? Can your people not afford buttons to the hem?”
 
“It’s so you can pop the first couple ones open to make the girls swoon without going, you know, full open chest and needing to call the fire brigade,” Darcy grinned and gave him a gentle shove towards the changing room. “Go on, I’ll grab some other stuff for you to try. But keep those jeans on! They do amazing things to your ass.”
 
Mentally groaning, Darcy hurried off before she could hear a reply. Seriously? She’d just been reminding herself not to creep all over her alien. It was not cool. If their situation had been reversed she would have needed to call the cops and issue a restraining order by now. Throwing herself into the racks she tried to focus on what Stianger might like compared to what she wanted to see him in. A couple more pairs of skinny jeans and some button ups in hand made her start to feel good about her choices. Spotting a leather coat that would fit she blanched over the price but added it to her pile anyway. Stianger would look good in it and he needed a coat, even if the cold didn’t bother him much.
 
“Can you believe the nerve?” she heard someone hiss behind her. She turned to see a woman and her husband glowering in the direction of the changing rooms where Stianger had emerged and was looking at himself in the mirror again. “How can they let someone like that in here?”
 
“I’m calling the cops,” her husband growled, pulling out a phone.
 
Darcy swallowed hard. Looking over at Stianger she could see all the glares he was getting, the sheer venom all directed his way. There seemed to be way more of them now then there had been when she’d stood with him. A few people were even clenching their fists, looking as if they would like to attack. People looked like they wanted to hurt him and all Stianger was doing was preening in the mirror. The word ‘mutant’ was on everyone’s lips as they milled about, closer and closer towards him.
 
This shopping trip had been a bad idea. Clutching the clothes to her chest, Darcy hurried over and tugged on Stianger’s sleeve. “You look great, now let’s go,” she muttered, eyes darting about.
 
Glancing down at her, Stianger followed her gaze and frowned. For a moment he looked as if he was going to bolt for the door but then he inhaled and began sorting through the clothes she had brought. “You were the one that said to pay them no mind,” he said, picking out the leather coat and swinging it on. As she’d expected he looked delicious, adjusting the bottom straps to better hug his narrow waist as he nodded to himself in the mirror. “Ignore them, human.”
 
“But one of them said that he was going to call the cops and-“
 
Giving her a sharp glare he turned and shoved his hands casually into the jean pockets. “How do I look? Do I pass human muster?” he asked, face cool and calm.
 
That was a lie too, but it didn’t hurt. Darcy just felt the racing nervousness of her heart as she smiled weakly and nodded. “Yeah. You really do look great.”
 
Nodding at her graciously, Stianger smiled. His blue cheeks seemed to darken a bit though she wasn’t sure what that meant at all. Taking off the leather jacket he looked at it a long moment, hands caressing it. “Thank you, Darcy,” he said, so quietly she almost missed it.
 
Warmth bloomed through Darcy’s chest and she couldn’t stop herself. Dropping the clothes she launched herself at Stianger, grabbing him in a tight embrace. The alien froze, eyes going wide before relaxing as she squeezed him. He patted her awkwardly on the back, face softening, when a timid voice cleared its throat near them.
 
They both looked to see a terrified store clerk standing there, her eyes almost blown wide with fear. “E-Excuse me,” she stuttered. “B-But you’re making the other customers uncomfortable. I… I’ve got to ask you to leave.”
 
Stianger drew himself up to his full height and glowered at the woman down his sharp nose. “I would like to speak to your manager,” he sneered. The shop clerk went white. Darcy laughed so hard she nearly collapsed.
 
In the end it was a successful trip. If anyone could pull off mega-bitch with an overinflated ego it was Stianger, he’d adapted to his role instantly. Within five minutes of the manager coming over he’d somehow given him the impression that he was a plant from some sort of mutant rights organization. All without a single lie. Darcy would have been terrified if she hadn’t been so impressed. The manager assumed that meant high powered attorneys, pictured the unfavorable headlines, and suddenly every employee of the store was eager to please the huge blue mutant in their midst. They fetched him clothing and shoes as if that was their jobs, nearly bowing and scraping in their efforts to please.

That only seemed to piss off the other customers more, Darcy saw several leave without items, but Stianger was in his element, directing staff around as if their devotion was expected. She got the feeling that whatever Stianger had been before he’d come to Earth he’d been someone important. Someone used to giving orders and being listened to. Confident at last, he didn’t seem a bit uncomfortable as he made the people around him squirm.
 
They even gave them a hefty discount to get rid of them quicker. Darcy didn’t entirely mind that, her credit card would be hurting from this trip for a while, but it was sort of hilarious to see the manager herd the employees outside with their bags to load up the SUV for them.
 
Bear barked at them from the back as Darcy grinned and opened the car. “Now that’s what I call service,” she said, flipping the manager a nickel. He glared at her, expression furious as they drove away, face going all sorts of interesting colors.
 
Stianger made it to the road before he collapsed in his seat, looking exhausted. “If I ever see another human again it will be too soon,” he grumbled, rubbing his brows.
 
“Don’t look to your left then. You’re still stuck with me for the long drive home.”
 
“You’re different,” he scoffed, leaning his head against the window. “You don’t annoy me.”
 
“Not even when I give you Incredible Hulk shirt to wear?”
 
Silence. He turned to regard her, eyes narrowed. “An excellent point. You’re correct. You actually annoy me more than the rest. I should have disappeared into the woods when I had the chance to escape you.”
 
Darcy laughed and felt warmth bloom inside of her again. Even Stianger smirked, looking away from her and out the window as she giggled. “Come on you,” she grinned, getting them on their road back towards the cabin. “Let’s find a spot to let out Bear so he can stretch and pee and then I’ll introduce you to pizza. It’s an Earth delicacy.”
 
Rolling his eyes heavenward, Stianger sighed deeply. “Wonderful. I’m certain that I shall be ever so impressed.”

*****

They’d found a dog park for Bear on the outskirts of town. Letting him do his thing, aka, pee on everything in sight to mark his territory, Darcy went back to the car to lecture Stianger on the art of layering. It was a tough sell. His eyes stayed narrow in disbelief as she tried to convince him that, as attractive as the hoodie or leather coat were on their own, they were better together. In the end he’d given in, but she’d decided that was enough for one day and dropped the lesson on the allure of the undershirt peaking out along the collar. No one man should have that much power over women anyway.
 
He’d also let her do his hair. While it wasn’t quite long enough for the man-bun she wanted, she’d carefully pulled it back into an elastic tie. Stianger’s hair was thicker then she imagined, though a little too greasy. It needed a good wash and conditioner, maybe the barest trim for his split ends. Considering how he had sat stock still between her feet, barely breathing, she didn’t think he’d be up for a hair stylist though. He’d leapt up as soon as she released him, putting distance between them without looking at her at all. She had the feeling he wasn’t too keen on being touched and made a mental note to herself to cut it out.
 
Not that she could really help herself. Ever since she’d hugged him in the store her fingers itched to touch him all the time. She wanted to run her hands over his skin and feel the chill there. Have her fingers run down the ridges of his face and follow them down to where they’d lead her. Then put his hands on her and see what it felt like to have them explore her body. 
 
She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. Damn. She really needed to kick Stianger out of the cabin and make an appointment with her vibrator. This sort of raw thirst was just not acceptable when it came to traumatized alien guests.
 
Loading Bear up into the car they went on the search for pizza, finding a local joint that didn’t look too busy for a weekday night. There, she made several important discoveries. First, Stianger ate pizza like a fucking lord using a knife and fork and looking horrified when she went after it with her fingers. Second, he really hated soda. Like really.
 
Taking his first sip Stianger had practically gagged on the carbonated beverage, barely managing to swallow as his eyes watered and his face scrunched up in disgust. For the second time that day Darcy lost her shit, laughing hysterically as he glared at the drink and set it far away from him. His glare shifted to her, blaming her for nearly being poisoned.
 
“How can you drink that? It’s just sugar in bubbling water.”
 
Still laughing Darcy shook her head, unable to form words while Stianger glared at her. The other guests and staff gave them odd looks but at least no one here said anything and the waitress happily switched Stianger to water when Darcy recovered enough to wave her over.
 
The haul back to the cabin felt longer than driving to town had. A couple times she’d eyed the shifty looking motels they drove past, parking lots full of snow mobiles, but in the end decided to keep going. It might have been a bad idea but Darcy didn’t want to risk introducing her alien to the dangers of drunk dudes with nothing better to do at night. Also, she didn’t know if she’d be able to keep her hands to herself if they were actually forced to share a small room. Stianger was putting on a brave face but she could tell he was just as exhausted as she was. Still, as they drove she felt her eyelids begin to droop and she had to slow, yawning as she struggled to keep her eyes open.
 
“You’re going to have to talk to me to help me stay awake or we’re going into a snowbank,” Darcy yawned.
 
Tearing his gaze away from the window he looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “What do you wish for me to say to you?”
 
“I dunno. True things or I’ll send us into the snow due to a migraine instead. Do you have any family?”
 
Utter silence. Instead of answering Stianger just stared at her, his expression unreadable. “I think we should discuss your powers instead,” he said, tearing his eyes away from her to gaze straight ahead. “I still need to correct your erroneous assumption that what you sense is purely the difference between truth and lies.”
 
She frowned, grip tightening on the steering wheel. “Is that really a good idea? I gotta admit, I find it pretty annoying that you want to keep man-splaining my own powers to me.”
 
“I’ve found that the truth is a bitter thing that few are willing to accept. Myself included,” Stianger said dryly. “However, once the truth is uncovered you can do with that knowledge what you will. Clinging to falseness only blinds you to the reality of the world. No matter what the pain, the truth at least unlocks you from the shackles of ignorance.”
 
“The truth can set you free,” Darcy muttered then nodded. “Fine. Lay it on me then. What do you think my powers really are?”
 
“I believe a demonstration would best allow me to prove my point,” Stianger said. His voice had gone remote and distant as he spoke and Darcy’s stomach rolled with a certain amount of dread as he reached into the pocket of his new leather jacket. He removed a knife – Shit! Where had he gotten a knife!? – and looked at her. Twirling it in his fingers to be sure she was watching he suddenly plunged the knife down into, and through, his own hand.
 
Darcy shrieked, jerking on the steering wheel and slamming the breaks. Bear yipped loudly in the back, the SUV spinning on the icy road before it slammed to a stop. Gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles turned white Darcy took a moment to realize that she wasn’t actually dead, that they actually hadn’t hit anything on the empty road, before turning and slapping Stianger as hard as she could on the arm.
 
“What the fuck’s the matter with you!?” she shouted, moving to hit him again.
 
Stianger grabbed her wrist with his good hand, the knife still embedded straight through the other. His red eyes blazed at her in the darkness. “Focus,” he ordered. “How do you feel?”
 
“Pretty fucking pissed off!”
 
“No!” he snapped at her. “How does your hand feel?”
 
“My hand? But you’re the one that stabbed…” Darcy stopped as the feeling of pain began to overwhelm her senses. “What the fuck?” she muttered, staring down at her own left hand. It throbbed in agony. As she held it up to the dim light she could see the skin was whole and unbroken, nothing was wrong. It hurt though, hurt more than anything she’d ever felt before, and tears welled up in her eyes. “Why does my hand hurt?”
 
“That’s because you’re not detecting the difference between truth and lies,” Stianger said coolly. He released her, using his good hand to fish through his pockets to remove a stack of napkins he’d probably pilfered from the restaurant. Had he been planning on doing that from the start? Had he stolen the knife from the pizza place too? The bastard. Bracing his hand against the dashboard Stianger gritted his teeth and yanked the knife from his palm. It exited with a sick slurp of blood and Stianger dropped the knife to the floor, pressing napkins to either side of his hand with a detached air. “You are not a detector of lies. You are a detector of emotions.”
 
If that was true then Stianger must have really wanted a boot to the head because that’s all she was feeling right now. She stared at him blankly as he struggled with the napkins before reaching over and taking his hand. Her own still ached but she fought through it, yanking the scarf from her neck to wrap tightly around his injured palm. 
 
“You idiot. I can’t believe you did that to yourself just to prove a point. Somewhere in that stupid head of yours is a dial labeled high drama and you need to turn it way the fuck back down,” she muttered. Wrapping the scarf carefully she tied it tightly and released his hand. 
 
“I shall heal quickly.” That was true enough. The holes from the stitches had nearly vanished, the only sign they’d been there the faintest hint of lighter blue dots along his lips. “Besides, I feared you wouldn’t believe me unless I surprised you with proof.”
 
“Well consider me surprised,” Darcy said. She slumped in her seat, staring out the dark windshield. Her hand still throbbed but it was better now. She stared at it a long moment before grabbing onto the steering wheel again. So much for being tired. Her heart was still pounding a million miles a minute and she didn’t think it would let up anytime soon. “Don’t surprise me like that again. Not while I’m driving.”
 
“I will admit that your reaction was a bit more extreme than I had been anticipating.”
 
She shot him a nasty look before focusing back on the road. “Okay, so I sense emotions not lies. What does that make me?”
 
“An empath. Potentially a powerful one,” Stianger replied automatically. His voice was still distant and remote as the moon as he also stared straight ahead. “In my realm, empaths are revered. They are great healers, mediators, and teachers. You have that potential.”
 
Darcy’s nose wrinkled. “I’m having enough issues with keeping up with computer sci and holding my own life together. I don’t really need other people’s problems right now. So why does it hurt when people lie to me? If I’m detecting emotions then why do lies feel like someone’s taking a hammer to my head?”
 
“When I lied to you, you felt nothing. I believe that out of all emotions you are particularly adept at picking up on pain. The majority of people feel negative emotions such as guilt when they lie to others no matter how fleeting the sensation. This negative emotion registers as pain to you, hence the migraines you receive when you are lied to.”
 
“So people feel bad about lying and that’s what I’m reacting to,” Darcy mused out loud. “But when you lied to me I felt nothing because you didn’t feel bad about lying to me at all.”
 
“Correct.”
 
“You know, putting it that way makes you sound like a complete sociopath,” she said, glaring at him. 
 
Stianger shrugged, the faintest hint of a smile of his lips as he looked out the window. “I’ve been called worse.”
 
They drove on in silence for a long moment, Darcy mulling this over in her head. In a way it all made sense to her. In a way it didn’t. Besides the hand thing she didn’t think she’d been picking up any emotions from Stianger, but how did she know? She’d never even thought that was possible until now, but her hand still ached with Stianger’s residual pain so he had to be on to something. A thought struck her. 
 
“When we played two truths and a lie and you lied to me all three times... the middle lie hurt. The one about your mother.”
 
“My Mother is a painful subject,” Stianger said after a long moment. “I will admit it causes me pain to think of her.” 
 
Suddenly Darcy could feel it. The overwhelming sense of grief, of loss, of self-loathing all flowed through her and she cursed under her breath and slammed her foot on the breaks again. She jerked the car to the side of the road, pointing her finger at Stianger when he looked over to her, questioning. “You! Last night when we had the fight. All that crap in my head…You really hate yourself, don’t you?”
 
He smiled at her bitterly, chuckling dryly. “Of course I do. What is there not to loathe?” he asked, gesturing to himself. “I’m a monster made flesh. The world would be better off without me and yet I can not bring myself to do it the favor of allowing myself to be removed.”
 
And Darcy felt that too. The deep set self-loathing that picked at the inside of her brain and told her she wasn’t good enough. That somehow it was all her fault that Jane and her family had been Snapped away. That her every negative inner thought was true, that the rest of the world knew it, and everyone else was just waiting for her to realize it as well. Was that all from Stianger? It couldn’t be, but the deep sense of loathing was so intense that Darcy almost couldn’t breathe. She’d had dark thoughts in the past but this was on a whole different level. It seemed to physically hurt, her heart growing stiff and cold the longer they went on.
 
Was this how Stianger felt all the time? How could anyone live like that?
 
“I don’t think you’re a monster,” Darcy said quietly. 
 
Stianger smiled at her without mirth. “Give it time,” he said and turned his gaze out the window. 
 
Darcy stared at him for a long moment but the self-loathing didn’t fade. Swallowing hard she put the car back into gear and drove them the rest of the way home. 
 
*****
 
Bear barked like a crazy thing when she let him out of the SUV, diving into the snow as if it was the first time he’d ever seen it before. She heard more than saw Stianger head towards the cabin shouting after him that there was a first aid kit under the sink before he vanished. She didn’t follow him though. Instead she stared up at the perfectly clear night sky and shivered in the cold. 
 
An empath. That was different. 
 
She didn’t even know what one really was besides what Stianger had said. But what she had learned was kind of scary. The self-loathing she’d picked up from Stianger, she had felt it directed at herself, not him. She wouldn’t have even known it wasn’t her own emotion if he hadn’t confirmed it. If she was picking up emotions from other people, mirroring them, what other feelings had not been her own? She racked her brains trying to figure out what else could have been Stianger’s thoughts instead but came up with nothing. It was scary not knowing if she could trust her own emotions though. 
 
Grabbing Stianger’s clothes out of the back of the car she cursed as she realized she’d forgotten to stop for groceries. Sure, she had the junk food she’d picked up at Walmart, but that wasn’t the bacon and eggs Stianger favored. Bone tired and weary she wasn’t ready to go out on another shopping run though.
 
Carrying the bags inside, Darcy dumped them all on the bed. The bathroom light was on under the closed door. She hoped that Stianger was taking care of his hand. Hands on her hips she surveyed the shopping carnage before fishing out a shirt and holding it in her hands. She studied it for a long moment, mind racing before coming to a decision. 
 
Stianger was too broken for whatever remained of SHIELD, she thought to herself, heart racing. The organization had too much on their plate to help a single traumatized alien work through whatever issues had made him hate himself that way. Thor might be able to help, but he was also caught up in his own grief for Jane, the loss of his family, and the destruction of his homeworld. No, she’d not pass her alien off to anyone else. Besides the dramatics, Stianger didn’t seem to mind that she was an empath. She’d keep him here. If she could sense his emotions maybe she’d even be able to help, distracting him when his demons came out and trying to show him that he at least mattered to her. She would have to be firm with herself and not perv on him, it would be too confusing for him, but maybe they could be good for each other. 
 
With that in mind she went to the dresser, opening the top drawer and yanking out her clothes by the handful. She tossed them onto the floor of the closet before going for a second round. 
 
“What are you doing?” Stianger’s voice was quiet and confused from the hall. He looked at her, brow furrowed, as he stood in the doorway and watched her stuff her clothes in the closet. 
 
She beamed at him, feeling more certain than she had for a long time. While she hadn’t known Stianger long, two days - wtf, really?? - she knew she wanted to keep him around. Despite everything that had happened so far she liked him. He made her laugh and it had been a very long time since anything but Bear had managed to do that. He was her alien and she wanted him there for as long as he wanted to stay. “Just making you some space in a drawer. You can’t have all these nice new clothes and then just keep them in the bags.”
 
For one wonderful, horrible moment Darcy felt the overwhelming urge to kiss him. She could do it too. Just three steps and she could have Stianger in her grip. She could yank his mouth down to meet hers and show him how much she wanted him to stay. Hell, the bed was right there if she really needed to prove the point. But before she could work up the nerve to just walk over and do it, Stianger took a step back.
 
“I… Thank you,” he said, looking shaky and more than a little confused. Turning quickly he walked away leaving Darcy to mentally curse at herself.
 
By the time she’d finished putting his clothes away and walked out of the bedroom Stianger had already finished setting up the couch as a bed. Darcy made a face as she realized that the bedsheets were in the wash. Why didn’t she own a second pair of bedsheets? What was wrong with her anyway? Her mother had been right to worry about her ability to keep house.
 
After throwing everything into the dyer, Darcy grinned at Stianger. “Want to start on that reading list?”
 
He looked over to her, brow creasing. “Haven’t you done enough to me already without subjecting me to the literature of this world?” he asked.
 
It wasn’t clear if that was the most passive-aggressive ‘thank you’ ever or a complaint, but to be honest Darcy didn’t care. Going over to the storage closet she threw open the door and hauled out the big tub from the bottom shelf. Stianger was suddenly there, practically breathing down her neck as he helped her pull out the tub.
 
“Do you always keep your books in such a manner?” he drawled. His eyes betrayed him though. Burning alight he reached in and eagerly snatched up the first book, greedily ruffling the pages.
 
“Woah, woah, woah,” Darcy said, snatching the book away. “You’re not ready for the terrible majesty of Twilight. We need to start you off small dude. Here. Try this. The OG of human fantasy, The Hobbit.”
 
Stianger raised an eyebrow at her, clutching the book tight to his chest. “Fantasy?”
 
“Made up human stories,” Darcy explained. “As much as I love fantasy, Tolkien got some stuff seriously wrong. I’ve seen elves and Tra-la-la-lally they were not.”
 
“You have seen elves?”
 
She didn’t need to be an empath to recognize the disbelief in his tone. Rolling her eyes, Darcy started tearing through boxes until she found a carefully wrapped picture frame. “Of course I’ve seen elves. I’ve been places. Here! It’s a picture of my team,” she grinned. Stianger looked over her shoulder, his body stiff as a board as she pointed out the figures. “See? This is my best girl-boss friend Jane. That’s Thor, he’s all muscle-y and stuff but a major sweetie. That’s Erik, just be glad he’s wearing pants in this photo. I’m serious. And that’s Ian. He was my intern.” Smile softening she gazed down at the photo and tried to blink back tears. “This is from when we were all together in London. Jane had to be saved from some crazy elves and their bad mojo that they were using to try and destroy the universe.”
 
Reaching around her, Stianger’s finger gently rested on the photo next to Jane’s face. His hands were trembling again. Poor dude was probably exhausted. “This is Jane, the Jane you said was destroyed in the Snap.”
 
“Yeah. Right at the lunch table,” Darcy whispered. “One minute she was gushing about science and eating a PB&J and then she just… dissolved. Poof. Her ashes were all over the table, all over me, but Jane was just gone.” Sniffling loudly, Darcy shoved the photo back where she found it. “The only good thing is that it was quick. I don’t even think she knew what was happening before it was already over. She wasn’t like those poor people who had go through their plane going down or dying slowly because their meds ran out or something.” She looked up at Stianger and smiled brightly. “I don’t even think Janey felt any pain. That has to count for something.”
 
Reaching over Stianger cupped her face in one of his massive palms and gently brushed a tear off her cheek. “I am sorry for your friend,” he rumbled softly. “It is obvious you cared for her greatly. I am only sorry that I did not know her the way you did.”
 
“It’s okay,” Darcy muttered, jerking away and scrubbing at her face with her palms. “It’s not like you could have known her or anything. You were probably too busy up in space doing your Space Man things.”
 
Stianger was silent, gazing at the floor for a long time. “I don’t suppose you could make more of that sweet, warm, brown milk?” he asked, breaking the silence. “I will rebuild the fire if you wish to sit with me for a time and read.”
 
“Just so you know, that is the weirdest description of hot chocolate ever,” Darcy said and smiled, genuinely this time. “But yeah. I can do that.”

Chapter Text

From: [email protected]
Sent: Thursday, March 14, 2018 5:39 PM
To: [email protected]
Cc: [email protected]; [email protected]
Subject: Update from the Darcy Lewis case
 
Stark,
 
We’re still looking for traces of Miss Lewis, but a sweep of her laptop recovered this document. It is further evidence that someone was staying here in the weeks leading up to her disappearance though who that individual was is still unclear. Interviews with the locals continue to be unproductive. We’ve taken the head of the library into custody and I will be conducting the interview myself in an attempt to gain more information on this ‘Steve’ and how he ties in to the disappearance of Miss Lewis.
 
I’ve attached the document in question as well as Darcy’s recent search history. She had repeatedly searched for information on the Kree, though there is no evidence at this time linking her guest to this species. I will keep you appraised of developments as they come.
 
-Natasha
 
Attachments:
From the Laptop of Darcy Lewis: Tips on Dealing with Alien Houseguests
 
#1 - Don’t freak out when other people start to like your alien friend.
 
Things had calmed down into a steady routine since their expedition to get Stianger some clothing. While they’d been successful Darcy had found the trip exhausting and considering that Stianger had ended the night with a knife through his hand he didn’t seem keen on repeating the experience either. Instead, the two of them kept a low profile, hanging around the cabin.
 
Taking her joking order seriously, Stianger had taken almost full responsibility for Bear and everything outdoors. More than once she’d awoken in the morning to find him already up, shoveling the front steps or expanding paths through the freshly fallen snow. If he minded he didn’t say so and Darcy didn’t mind having someone else take the cold work. Not to mention Bear loved it. The great dog followed Stianger around like a shadow, refusing to let him leave his sight. 
 
Most of her days was spent working for Stark on her laptop, doing things she was sure Friday could handle on her own if Stark would let his AI. The company social media was her biggest duty, coming up with posts based on the employee bulletins and photos Friday sent her, but she also maintained the website and occasionally transcribed Dr. Banner’s notes for him. He was researching something weird about the Hulk, Darcy couldn’t quite parse out what he was trying to do, but he seemed excited about it. She could only hope that meant he was finding a way to bring out his big green friend again. That, or maybe get a little more control.
 
Stianger had taken a marginal interest in her transcription, leaning over the back of her chair and radiating cold in a way she found incredibly distracting, but in the end he had scoffed loudly and rolled his eyes. “Amateur,” he muttered then refused to answer any questions besides to claim that Banner was lightyears behind what his own people could do.
 
Jerk. Darcy bet that they didn’t even have a Hulk.
 
Just finishing up a hard day’s work, organizing her new Spotify playlist filled exclusively with classical or no-lyric ambient music and getting paid to do it, when there was a sharp rap on the front door. That was weird. It hadn’t snowed since the last time Bill plowed them out and she hadn’t been ordering anything from Amazon recently. Her family was all dead so there was no one to visit. 
 
Nervously, Darcy snuck to the kitchen window, peering out at an angle to try and see who it was at the door. 
 
“Who is it?” Stianger rumbled in her ear nearly causing her to shriek. Despite his size, Stianger could move like a damn cat when he wanted to. Completely silent, he could glide across her creaking floorboards without making a sound. It might have been fine if he wasn’t so set on using his super power for evil by choosing to sneak up right behind her whenever she was trying to concentrate. Or whenever he was bored. Or whenever he thought it might be funny to make her scream.
 
Really, why had she decided that keeping him around was a good idea?
 
Taking another look out the window, Darcy recognized the dusty blond hair as the figure rapped again at the door. “It’s Karen,” she said, surprised. “What the hell is she doing here?”
 
Stianger pursed his lips. “I do believe you had me tell her that I enjoyed maple syrup,”
 
“Fuck,” Darcy breathed. “I can’t believe it. She brought some over. I thought for sure that was just false politeness.”
 
Together they stood and watched Karen rap a third time at the door. “Aren’t you going to get that?”
 
“I don’t really want to,” Darcy said with a sigh. “Karen is fine and all, but if I go to the door she might try to invite me to join her bingo club or something. She seems really lonely.”
 
Stianger stared at the deflated woman still knocking at their door and huffed. “Very well then.”
 
Darcy blinked as the big blue alien began to determinedly march towards the door. “What are you doing?” she hissed after him.
 
“We have been brought an offering. It would be rude to deny it,” Stianger said simply. He paused in the doorway to the hall and flashed her a tooth filled smile. “I will not allow her to keep me long. Or invite me to bingo.”
 
Mouth agape, Darcy stared after him before running and booking it into the bedroom. It was further from the front door but the windows opened easier now that Stianger wasn’t freezing them shut at night and the curtain was thicker. Perfect for spying. She’d managed to get the window opened a crack just in time to listen to Karen stop freaking out over Stianger being the one to open the door.
 
“I, uh, this is for you,” she heard Karen say. The older woman’s voice was hesitant, unsure. “I know I promised you a gallon, but I’m afraid we’d sold more of it than I thought. I only had a quart left, but you’re free to have it.”
 
“Thank you,” Stianger said and Darcy frowned. His voice was so much softer then she was used to, far different from the routinely haughty tone he used with her now that he was feeling better. A long moment of silence. Darcy peeked out between the curtains to see the two of them there, standing in awkward silence. “I am sorry for the loss of your husband,” Stianger continued after a pregnant pause. “The loss of my mother struck me deeply. I possess nothing to remember her by, but if I did I would be loath to give any of it up. You are very kind to share the fruits of your husband’s labor with ones who are strangers to you.”
 
“Oh sweetheart, it’s just maple syrup,” Karen laughed but her voice was wobbling. She sniffled loudly and for a moment Darcy feared she may begin to cry. The brief look of absolute panic that crossed Stianger’s face said that he must have thought the same. Yet Karen collected herself, reaching up to squeeze the big blue alien’s shoulder tightly. “You’re such a nice boy. If you ever come in to town be sure to stop by the library and I’ll help you find whatever you need. And if you’re still here in the spring I’ll be sure to get you that gallon of syrup. The very first one we bottle!”
 
“When is spring?”
 
“Well the sap starts running end of February or March. By the end of March at the latest I’ll be able to get that gallon for you.”
 
Stianger tilted his head to one side, considering, before he smiled. “I would enjoy that,” he said and even from a distance Darcy could hear the lie. Or the not-lie. The guilt, or whatever it was that she was supposed to be picking up instead. Her brow furrowed. So he had no problem lying to her but he drew the line at lying to fragile middle-aged women? Her alien was a weird one.
 
Waving her goodbyes Karen left and Stianger shut the door. He put the bottle of maple syrup on the counter, eyeing it for a long time. “When is the end of March?” he asked her.
 
Darcy shrugged. “Like three, really more like four, months out.”
 
Pursing his lips, Stianger frowned. He looked at the bottle again and pointed at it, narrowing his eyes. “You have no more excuses. Explain this obsession your people have with this liquid now.”
 
Laughing, Darcy rolled her eyes. The haughty was back. In a way she was glad to hear it. It was nice to know that her alien trusted her enough that he was comfortable being a dick to her. To everyone else he was remote and polite as if still somewhat concerned that they might get the idea to torture him. With Darcy at least he could be himself. Even if that self was a massive, egotistical nightmare of a man.
 
That night Darcy made breakfast for dinner. Pancakes, bacon, she even busted out the waffle maker to show her alien how maple syrup was done. Stianger took one bite and his eyes went narrow. “You humans consume far too many sweet things,” he growled, voice dripping with disgust.
 
He complained throughout the entire meal. Yet he ate every bite.
 
#2 - Before you invite your alien to stay in your home, ask to make sure your views on clutter are the same. 
 
Her laptop was gone. She’d just had it, had only just set it down for five minutes to pee and refresh her coffee and now it was gone. Not again. Stianger was a goddamn nightmare when it came to tidying, practically stalking Darcy around the cabin and picking up everything she set down in an obsessive attempt to keep their living space tidy. He even made the bed with perfectly square hospital corners like some sort of psychopath. This was going too far though. She needed that laptop! To google memes! Also work, but she’d been on a big vintage meme kick lately. Glaring suspiciously at the perfectly clean kitchen table she turned her gaze to the alien who sat far too innocently in her Grandfather’s easy chair. “Oi! Blueberry!”
 
Stianger didn’t even glance up from his book, turning the page casually. The bastard practically had a halo glowing over his head he was so serene. 
 
Marching over to him, Darcy snapped the book shut and leaned over him, a hand on either side of the chair. “Hey, I’m talking to you!”
 
“Were you? I didn’t hear you say my name at all,” Stianger said dryly.
 
“Where’s my laptop?”
 
“Why should I know where it is?” he asked innocently. He smirked an evil smirk up at her, not backing down in the slightest even though she was doing her best to be intimidating. “Perhaps you misplaced it?”
 
“Or I could be living with an OCD asshole who doesn’t leave my stuff alone.” Darcy sighed harshly and pinched her brow. “Look, I get that you’re probably still pissed over the towel incident-“
 
“Dirty items belong in the hamper, not the floor,” Stianger interrupted. 
 
“-but you can’t just go putting away all my stuff whenever my back is turned! I was using that laptop! For work! Work that pays for your food and your addiction to mini marshmallows!”
 
Stianger’s said nothing, staring at her expectantly. 
 
Caving, Darcy threw her hands up in the air. “Fine! I promise that I shall never again leave my wet towels on the floor. Happy now?”
 
“Exceedingly,” Stianger purred. Smirk fully in place he went back to his reading, dismissing her entirely. 
 
Glaring at him for another hot second, Darcy slapped the book out of his hands. “Where’s my laptop?”
 
Sniffing haughtily over her rudeness, Stianger picked up the book and pointedly dusted it off with his hands. “Have you tried looking for it where it belongs?” he asked, settling down into his chair and beginning to read again. 
 
And that was likely the best answer she was going to get out of him. Jackass. She could do this though. Her cabin wasn’t all that big, there wasn’t many places where he could hide things. “Where it belongs. Okay. So where does it belong?”
 
It turned out the answer to that was inside the shed, underneath a pile of broken flowerpots. Darcy never could figure out how Stianger had gotten it there in so little time, but she kept her word. She stopped leaving her wet towels on the floor. Instead, she started stuffing them into Stianger's bed. 
 
#3 - Never ask him what’s wrong. Aliens apparently don’t do feelings.
 
Her alien seemed to be growing stronger by the day. Stianger had begun with the shoveling, then he’d moved on to chopping wood as his chore of choice. A day of that and he started to take Bear on long walks in the snowy woods, then jogs, then flat out runs.
 
Darcy could tell he was pushing himself, trying to regain the strength he had lost before he’d come to Earth. You didn’t get that many muscles from sitting around reading books all day. She watched him from the kitchen window sometimes as he put himself through his paces. His hand had healed remarkably fast and he was regaining strength quickly as well. Sometimes she could even catch glimpses of him practicing some sort of strange alien martial art. Bending and weaving like a snake he’d dodge invisible blows, striking out in quick sudden movements before melting like water into what she had to assume was a defensive stance.
 
He’d also stolen and ruined almost all of her kitchen knives. In a way it could have been disturbing, how masterful he was at palming her knives without her realizing, but he’d never threatened her with him. No, instead she saw him use them sometimes in his martial arts, swinging the blade out from hidden pockets and then palming it again to make it vanish. Sometimes he stood at the edge of the forest and threw the knives at targets he marked into the trees until the shadows lengthened and the light began to dim. 
 
Whoever her alien had been before he reached Earth he had been some sort of solider. She’d tried to do more research on the Kree but hadn’t gotten far. A few new sites had popped up more possible connections to Thanos, something about another alien race called the Skrull, but considering the way that Stianger’s eyes narrowed whenever she mentioned Thanos she doubted that he had served the evil alien willingly. He’d probably been raised to fight in an army. Maybe as a general. It would explain the attitude.
 
She’d only tried to ask him about it once and got nowhere. “So what are the Kree like?” she’d asked once after dinner. The two of them were relaxing by the fire, Stianger half way through The Two Towers.
 
He turned a page. “Why?”
 
“Because you’re a Kree. Aren’t you?” she’d asked, trying to pry.
 
That seemed to get Stianger’s attention at least. He looked up at her, brows raised as he clocked his head to one side. “What makes you think I’m Kree?”
 
“You’re blue and you look like the picture.” And the Kree were the only blue aliens she could find any info about on the web. She kept that last one to herself though. Grabbing her laptop she navigated to the page on the Kree and showed him the article. He’d been silent as he looked at it, his face a neutral mask that she couldn’t get a read on as he read the article. “So seriously, what are the Kree like?”
 
“Blue and they look like this picture,” Stianger said and snapped the laptop shut. He refused to say a word for the rest of the night, eyes not straying from his book no matter what Darcy said and no matter how much she whined.
 
She should have given up on prying right at that moment.
 
But there were other times too. Times when Stianger would sit or stand somewhere and stare at his own hands as if he didn’t recognize them. He’d twist his fingers into complex shapes over and over again for hours at a time. Straining, he’d do it until white ice crystals of sweat dotted his brow and his entire body seemed to shake from exhaustion.
 
Darcy didn’t know why. She’d tried asking once only to be snapped at and for Stianger to retreat into the shed again. He hadn’t emerged for an entire day and only then he’d come out on the promise of hot chocolate. It seemed as if he was looking for something, missing something, but whatever it was she didn’t know and he would not let her find out.
 
She wished he would let her in. That he’d trust her enough to even open up a little and tell her one of the secrets he wore so close to his heart. Yet no matter what hints she dropped to let him know that she was a great listener he’d said nothing. All she could do was to try and give him a little space and hope that one day he’d finally come around.
 
#4 - Always give him more mini marshmallows. It’s just not worth the whining.
 
It had almost become a little ritual for them. Darcy would do her work in the kitchen, shutting her laptop down exactly at five. After a good long stretch she’d go to the stove and get a saucepan of hot chocolate going. At that point Stianger would reappear as if by magic from whatever he’d been up to that day, building up the neglected fire in the stove for her before taking his place in her Grandfather’s easy chair. She’d bring him his cup of cocoa, they’d sit together for a bit to chat, and then Darcy would find the energy to make dinner or complain at Stianger until he did it. Her alien was actually a surprisingly good chef. Whenever he did it he went a bit heavy on the meat and his portion sizes were out of control, but he could actually cook. Better than Jane at least.
 
So far the day had gone exactly like usual. Darcy had finished putting together a gag-worthy PR post talking about how great Stark Industries was and how they were saving the world, sending it off for approval before shutting her laptop down for the night. Stianger had come back from his run, Bear at his heels, just as she turned on the stove. Both were dusted with snow but Bear’s tail was wagging as he panted and followed the alien into the house. Having stopped to grab some wood, Stianger started building up the fire as Darcy added the powered chocolate to the milk and grabbed the mugs.
 
Carefully pouring out the sacred brown liquid, Darcy handed Stianger the larger of the two mugs before taking a seat on the couch. She’d barely had the chance to get settled when Stianger had started to complain.
 
“Why so few of the white things?” he scowled. He looked over to her, mentally calculating, then frowned back down at his own mug. “You have more of them than I do.”
 
“You mean the mini marshmallows?” She took a sip of her cocoa, reveling in the warmth it spread through her. “How do you figure that?”
 
“My cup is half again larger than yours. It stands to reason I should have half again more marshmallows as well.”
 
She fought a smile. Hearing him say ‘marshmallow’ in his high-brow, almost English accent was always hilarious. “How many marshmallows do you have?”
 
“Nine. You?”
 
Looking down, Darcy counted. “Ten.” She took a massive slurp, sucking up one of the marshmallows and swallowing it as her mouth burned. “Nine now. So we’re even.”
 
Petulant outrage covered Stianger’s face as he glared at her over his cup. “Even was not an issue,” he sniffed. “As I said, if you were listening, is that the issue on hand is proportions. As my cup is larger, I should have a proportional amount of marshmallows to compensate.”
 
“We can switch mugs. I’ve only had a couple sips, you won’t die from my backwash. Will make you quit your bitching?” Darcy asked, reaching for his.
 
Shrinking back, mug held protectively in his hands, Stianger’s glare only intensified. “No,” he practically hissed. Darcy rolled her eyes as he got to his feet, marching into the kitchen only to find- “You have been lax in your shopping,” he said, emerging with the mini marshmallow bag in his hand. The empty mini marshmallow bag.
 
Shrugging, Darcy took another sip of her cocoa to stop her from laughing in his face. Alternating between heartbreak and outrage her alien friend looked absolutely ridiculous as he pouted at the empty bag. “Yeah, we’re out. I’ll get some when I run to the store next time. No biggie.”
 
Sighing like a child, Stianger’s eyes landed on her cup. She could practically see the cogs turning as his eyes raked hers. “Those who are lax in their duties do not deserve marshmallows. Give me your cup.”
 
“Dude, you have a problem,” Darcy shrieked then laughed as her alien made good and tried to snatch her mug out of her hands. Keep away was ineffective, they both ended up drenched in hot chocolate, but after that she made sure to keep the pantry fully stocked with marshmallows to satisfy her alien guest.
 
#5 - Remember he has the social skills of a wombat. Don’t let him rile you up.
 
“I’ve been thinking about what you said about me being an empath,” Darcy said out of the blue one evening as they relaxed after dinner.
 
To her surprise Stianger looked up from his book at once. Usually she had to throw stuff at him to get his attention when he was reading. Red eyes on her he tilted his head. “Yes? And?”
 
She took a deep breath and handed him the notepad she’d been working on for the last few days. “Fifteen reasons why Stianger is wrong about my powers,” she said, grinning widely as his eyebrows raised.
 
Lips pursing he looked back at her. “A numbered list.”
 
“I like lists.”
 
“That’s nice,” Stianger said. Without breaking eye contact he ripped the page from the notebook, crumpled it up, and tossed it over his shoulder. “You’re wrong, though I understand your frustration that I would know more about your abilities than you.”
 
“Hey, I worked really hard on that,” Darcy protested, reaching for the crumpled wad of paper. A blue hand clamped down around her wrist and she looked up to see Stianger’s face far too close to hers. Heart skipping a beat it felt like she’d forgotten how to breathe as his eyes bore down into hers.
 
“I can see now that I was wrong,” Stianger purred, eyes alight. “I thought that you would come to me when you were ready to begin training, but you’re far too stubborn for that. I’ve been lax. We should have started this immediately after I discovered what you are.”
 
“Training?” She could feel her face start to flush as Stianger cradled her wrist more gently in his cool hand. He was still far too close. Just a little push and she could have him pinned to the chair, hands in his hair, and wrecking every chance to keep this burgeoning friendship as it was. “But you’re not an empath.”
 
Wait, was he an empath? Googling the Kree hadn’t mentioned anything about psychic powers… But Google didn’t have much actual information on aliens. If he was an empath she was so fucked right now.
 
He chuckled and warmth spread through her stomach as his lips twitched up. “No, but I have experience in related areas. So let’s begin. Darcy… what are you feeling right now?” His cold fingers tickled their way up her inner arm as he smiled softly and leaned in further.
 
She could just picture it. On her Grandfather’s chair or maybe she’d yank him to the couch. Her on top, Stianger’s hands on her waist. Him on top, the muscles in his ass flexing as he made her scream. Swallowing heavily, Darcy ordered her heart to calm the hell down already and not do this to her already.
 
“Well?” Stianger purred again. He was so close she could smell him. Wintergreen, ice, and just a hint of the hot chocolate he’d just finished. “What do you feel?”
 
“Very confused,” Darcy said honestly. She jerked back, yanking her hand back and giving herself a little distance before she knocked him to the ground and ravaged him. “I don’t understand what it is exactly that I’m supposed to be feeling here.”
 
Stianger’s face seemed to shut down. Where he’d seemed soft and open a moment ago his entire being seemed to shift and close back off to her. Whatever she had done he wasn’t the person she’d nearly kissed half a second ago. “You did not feel any of that?” he asked, voice guarded.
 
“Feel what?” The overwhelming lust that she knew was entirely one sided? Yeah, she wasn’t about to scare her alien off by admitting that out loud.
 
Searching her face for another moment, Stianger stood. “I’m getting a knife,” he growled, heading towards the kitchen.
 
Lunging for him, Darcy missed by a mile and hit the floor with a grunt. “No! Don’t get a knife, you idiot!” she shouted, scrambling to her feet. “If you stab yourself again I’m going to kick your ass.”
 
He whirled, catching her wrist again and glaring at her hotly. “I will do whatever it is that I want. I am the master here. You, the student. Do not presume to question my teaching methods.”
 
Annoyance flooded through her and Darcy jerked her hand away again with a little grunt. “God, you’re so annoying!” she growled. Why was it that no one could get under her skin like the blue bastard in front of her? She wanted to slap him. She wanted to yank his body to hers and work out her frustration with his skin. She wanted to strangle that stupid smug look off of his face. “Why do you have to be like this?”
 
“Be like what?” Stianger asked, a cruel smirk crossing his lips. “How am I being, Darcy? Tell me, what is it exactly that you’re feeling?”
 
“You! You’re just such an ass, all the fucking time!” Darcy shouted. She began to pace, gesturing wildly as the tall blue alien continued to smirk down at her. “You always think you’re right even when other people know better than you! You’re so stubborn! So fragile! Don’t you know how infuriatingly fragile you are!? I could blink and find you gone, your short lifespan snuffed out and-“ She stopped suddenly, blinking. Wait. What? Short lifespan? Fragile? Stianger?
 
Smirk widening, the alien stepped forward again. He grabbed her hands again, squeezing them tight. “Focus,” he said, voice low. “Study those thoughts. They’re not yours. Accept that, understand that, and examine them. How are they different?”
 
Gaping at him like a fish, Darcy tried to do as he’d said. As soon as she’d recognized that the annoyance wasn’t hers, well maybe not entirely, the emotions had faded. They were still there but distant, remote. More like a memory of an emotion. A dream. She pictured it as a ball of angry red light in her mind, circling it as if it was a specimen in a cage. It was different from her own emotions. Somehow a bit more powerful with her own emotions, more bitter, more…
 
“Wintergreen,” Darcy muttered. The taste flooded her mouth and she licked her lips, feeling the flavor there as well. “Those emotions taste of wintergreen.”
 
Dropping her hands, Stianger nodded. “At last you start to recognize your ability,” he said dryly and continued his way into the kitchen.
 
Darcy followed absently, watching him set the saucepan on the stove and start to heat up some milk. He moved quickly and deliberately, his movements smooth as she watched him start the hot chocolate up.
 
“Is that really how you think of me?”
 
He froze.
 
Darcy licked her lips again, the taste of wintergreen still on them. “Annoying. Stubborn. An inconvenience. Tiny.”
 
Putting the milk away, he looked at her from top to bottom and smiled bitterly. “You are only human.” Calling Bear he walked out the door leaving her standing there in the kitchen, alone and with the milk starting to steam.

Assface.
 
#6 - Don’t worry so much. He’s really doing a lot better.
 
Stianger walked through the door just as she’d finished up work for the day and started up the hot chocolate. Right on time. Bear trotted in first leading the way and absolutely covered in snow. It covered his entire black back, matting into his fur and making him look twice the size he normally did. Making a circle of the kitchen, dropping chunks of semi-melted mush, he happily made his way to his bed by the fire and collapsed down into it with a huff.
 
“What the hell did you do to my dog?” Darcy demanded, yelling down the hall where Stianger was still fussing with his outdoor clothes out of sight.
 
“There’s snow outside,” came her alien’s blasé reply and she rolled her eyes.
 
“No shit! But why does Bear look like he brought half of it inside?”
 
“It’s deep.” That ass. She could practically hear him smirking and despite herself Darcy smiled too. What did it matter really? A little snow indoors wouldn’t hurt anything and Bear could always use the exercise. She couldn’t encourage him too much though so Darcy mentally subtracted three marshmallows from Stianger’s allotment and added it to hers. So said the keeper of the minis!
 
She was halfway through her mental maniacal laughter when Stianger finally stepped into the roof, his arms full of logs of wood for the stove. “We have been invited to Christmas Eve dinner tomorrow. I accepted on your behalf.” He announced this earth shattering fact as if commenting on the weather and went to stove as usual, racking the coals apart and adding the logs one by one.
 
“Wait, what?” Darcy stammered, rushing after him. Since when was Christmas Eve tomorrow? Since when did Stianger even know what Christmas was? Perhaps more importantly, since when did Stianger know people to invite them over to dinner???
 
“Who invited us over for dinner?” Darcy asked, mind still spinning.
 
“Karen.”
 
“Who? Do you mean Maple syrup Karen?” she asked. There was no way she had been focused on her work enough miss someone driving down the driveway for a visit. “How did you manage to run into Karen and snag us an invitation for dinner?”

Stianger continued to load the wood stove nonchalantly. “I typically see her in town.”

In town?? Now that raised more questions than answers. “How the hell have you been getting to town? Have you been stealing my car?”

He shook his head. “I run.”

“You run.” She stared at him blankly. “You run into town. But that’s miles away.” No wonder Bear was looking so trim. 

“It is quite invigorating to exercise the body as well as the mind,” he drawled casually, closing the grate. Brushing off his palms he looked at her, the barest hint of a smirk on his face. “Dottie makes excellent hot chocolate.”

“Who the fuck is Dottie?” Darcy demanded then glared at him when he just grinned and went to his chair. Well, her Grandfather’s chair... but Stianger had pretty much claimed it as his own. Muttering more for her own benefit than his, she went and collapsed on the couch. “Okay. So you’ve been running into town enough to get a Christmas Eve dinner invite to Karen’s place tomorrow. Shit. Christmas Eve is tomorrow?”

“The milk is boiling,” Stianger said dryly and Darcy cursed, leaping up and running to the kitchen. By the time she tossed out the ruined milk, started a new batch, and brought out the finished mugs Stianger was already absorbed in his book. She set the mug down next to him and went back to the couch. 

“Do you even know what Christmas is?”

“It has been explained to me,” came the dry reply.

Darcy stared at the ceiling. She hadn’t even celebrated Christmas last year. There hadn’t been anything to celebrate. Throwing a party for her Mom’s favorite holiday when she no longer had a mom was just too painful a thing to do on her own. She glanced over at Stianger, still reading his book. This year was a little different, what with her alien being around. She could stand celebrating Christmas if it made him happy.

“I haven’t gotten you a present.”

“That’s fine,” Stianger said, not looking up from his book. 

“I completely forgot that the holiday was coming and I don’t have anything for it really.”

“That was perfectly obvious.”

“So don’t feel bad if you don’t get me a present either. Christmas isn’t about the presents, really.”

“Your media would argue otherwise,” Stianger said. He licked his thumb and turned the page. “Also, too late.”

“What?” She sat bold upright and stared at him. “You got me a present.”

“I did say that.”

“And it’s not like one of those crappy certificates that you made yourself promising one free back rub or something that you should be doing for me anyway?”

He looked up at her at that, eyebrow raised. “Would you like a back rub?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Too bad. That’s not the present I obtained for you,” he said, going back to his book again. 

Darcy pouted, glaring at him. “Where did you even manage to get money?”

“What’s the phrase that was used? Oh yes. I have been doing ‘odd jobs’ for Karen and Dottie in exchange for funds,” Stianger said casually as if this was something that giant blue aliens did on the regular. 

“Who are you? I don’t even think I know you anymore,” Darcy hissed. She glared at him as he laughed and flopped herself back on the couch. Well fuck. What had he been getting up to while she’d been at the kitchen table working? Now she’d have to figure out a present and everything by tomorrow morning because there was no way to order anything and get it in on time. She bit her lip. What could she even get Stianger that he’d like? He had clothes. He was still working his way through her books. What to get the alien who had nothing but didn’t seem to want anything either?

Covering her face, Darcy let out an annoyed growl. “We’re going to have to get a tree!”

Snapping his book shut without a word, Stianger left the room. Walking quickly she heard him open the front door, grunting lowly before dragging the biggest evergreen that would fit through her door into the main room. He grinned at her widely, red eyes glistening with mischievous glee. “You mean like this?”

“Seriously dude, who are you even?”

They’d decorated the tree after dinner with popcorn garlands that Darcy popped and lights Stianger had obtained from Karen. Again, Karen! She hadn’t even thought her alien was interested in other humans but apparently he’d been going out on the town and becoming besties with the woman. He refused to say much about it besides that Karen had been lonely and very kind to him after her daughter had left town, but he spoke of her in this gentle, non-malicious tone she’d never really heard from him before.

When she asked him about it he’d looked at her blankly. “She’s not a challenge,” he said, face blank. “Also, she’s very kind to me when she has no reason to be.”

Looking at him, Darcy was suddenly struck with a memory. It was of a Christmases past, holding her mother’s hand and squealing over some stupid toy or something that she wanted. The feeling of sadness in her chest was suddenly so intense she almost felt like crying but the taste of wintergreen flooded her mouth and she looked at Stianger knowingly. “She reminds you a bit of your mom.”

Stianger’s head jerked up. Nostrils flaring he glared at her hotly. “She is nothing like my mother,” he snapped and marched off to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. 

Darcy sighed and shook her head. Well shit. From prior attempts to pry she’d known his family was a touchy subject. She shouldn’t have said anything, especially if the holiday was also making him think of home. Finishing the setup of the tree on her own, Darcy smiled in satisfaction. It was more simple than her usual family trees, but the lights were bright and the popcorn was inviting. If Stianger would forgive her and come out they’d be able to have a nice Christmas. 

Glancing at her phone she realized it was still pretty early. Not even nine. Man, it was getting dark fast. Texting Friday that she was taking the next couple days off she stared at her phone feeling that she should probably do something about everyone she wasn’t going to see over the holiday. Not that she was particularly close to any of them, but it still would be nice to reach out. She knocked on the bedroom door, telling Stianger that she was calling some friends and if he could please be quiet until she was done.

She heard him snort loudly though the door. “You have friends?” he sneered and she smiled, knowing he was already halfway towards forgiving her. 

Calling Doctor Banner first, Darcy left him a cheerful voicemail wishing him holiday greetings and hoping he’d stay out of the lab for at least Christmas before hanging up. One down. Then she texted Stark an early happy holidays for two. Hesitating she texted Friday a happy holidays as well, eyebrow raising when the AI immediately responded with a gif of the Hulk decked out in Christmas lights and an enthusiastic Merry Christmas. So many exclamation points...

Glancing at the clock she mentally tried to calculate the time zone differences and gave up, hitting the video call button. Hopefully it wasn’t too late in Norway. She was just about to hang up when the call finally connected. There was a crash and the nausea inducing movement of the screen as someone fumbled with it and then Thor’s face came into view. “Lady Darcy!” he cried, almost dropping the phone again and catching it at the last moment. “Are you in distress? Do you need me to rescue you?”

Darcy laughed, shaking her head. “No, I’m fine Thor.” She paused as the bedroom door suddenly opened, Stianger striding out. He didn’t look at her in the slightest but returned to his chair and picked up his book without a word. Wishing she could glare at him she angled the screen so it would be harder to accidentally catch him on camera and grinned at Thor. “I just wanted to wish you an early Merry Christmas, dude. How are you doing?”

The screen settled enough for her to see and Darcy’s smile faltered. Thor looked rough. His beard was unruly, his loose hair obviously unbrushed, and he looked like he’d been wearing that shirt for a while. “Me? Oh, I am fine,” he said and hastily brushed something that looked like Cheeto dust off his sleeve. “Excellent really. My people have received a warm welcome in Norway and are settling in well. We are fine. Everything is fine.” He looked at her though the screen, his smile obviously strained. “Are you also fine?”

He’d said fine way too much and even over video chat she could feel the lies. Instead of her head pounding she felt a vibration under her skin and in her mouth. It felt like when you chewed aluminum. “I’m pretty good. It’s pretty snowy here in Vermont but I’m trying to keep busy. I’m going to a neighbor’s place for dinner tomorrow.”

Thor’s face fell. “Yule Eve. That was a night of great feasting and dancing on Asgard,” he said, voice miserable. “Mother would always insist on opening the dancing with father. My friends and I would sit together and tell great tales of our adventures to all who gathered. The mead flowed like water... Even Loki would seem content on Yule Eve. I could usually find him dancing with mother or getting in to some small mischief.”

The smile stayed on, but her heart broke for her friend on the other side of the world. Shit, she’d been a really bad friend. While she’d been so obsessed with her own grief and suffering, Thor was in the same place. No family, his people devastated, he was just as alone as she was. More so now that she had Stianger around. 

“Loki’s not turned up then?”

“Nay,” Thor sighed. “My brother would have come to me if he’d lived or at least sent word. I’m afraid that he was truly killed by Thanos.”

“I’m sorry Thor,” she said, and she found she actually was sorry. Just because she thought of Loki as some sort of evil megalomaniac monster didn’t mean Thor couldn’t miss his brother. She still thought of Loki and the destruction of Puente Antiguo and the Battle of New York, but Thor has centuries of memories of his brother that didn’t have all that. Besides, even Jane had said that Loki occasionally had showed signs of decency during the Convergence. When his mouth was shut or he was otherwise rendered unconscious. 

She glanced up at Stianger who was staring at his book, an unreadable look on his face. “Hey Thor, you doing anything for New Years? Maybe we could meet up in New York or something.” Stianger looked up at her in alarm, but on the screen Thor’s face just lit up like a kid on his birthday. 

“The changing of the year? No, I am not busy. Shall I summon the Bifrost and come for you then, Lady Darcy?”

And have him potentially run into Stianger? Her alien was looking at her in absolute horror, his blue skin going pale and taking on a grey hue. That pretty much summed up what he thought of that. “No Thor it’s fine. I’ll drive to New York and see you there. We can make a long weekend of it!”

The look of absolute delight on Thor’s face was enough to tell her that this was a good idea. While she still didn’t have her powers under control they were better, Darcy thought she could handle herself for a single weekend, especially if Stianger helped her prep between now and then. He’d been a big help so far, purposefully triggering her with various emotions so she could identify when they weren’t hers and cope. Maybe it was time to break out her gifts in the real world again. 

Pledging to get permission to hold the party at Stark Tower, Thor signed off much more cheerfully than when she’d first called him. Tossing her phone aside, Darcy felt warm fuzzies spread through her... Until she noticed Stianger glowering at her. 

“What?”

“Abandoning me so soon?” he sniffed, looking insulted. 

“You’re free to come,” Darcy offered with a smile. “I’m sure that everyone would love to meet you.”

Pursing his lips, Stianger looked down at his own hands again. “That would not be wise,” he said after a moment.

“Why not? I’m sure no one will care that you’re Kree. I’d be more than happy to vouch for you.”

Smiling weakly, Stianger’s gaze went soft as it landed on her once more. “Perhaps in the spring,” he said softly. Eyes hardening he stood and gazed down at her. “For how long will you be gone?”

Darcy shrugged. They’d only just made the plans. It wasn’t like she had a set itinerary or anything. “I dunno. Maybe a week?”

Nodding, Stianger frowned at her. His eyes were bright, almost fierce as he suddenly leaned down. Cupping her face in his cool blue hands he pressed a searing kiss to her lips. Darcy’s eyes went wide and she gasped against his mouth but before she could respond, pull him close, or even think anything beyond ‘OMG Stianger is kissing me!!!’ he pulled away.

“Don’t forget me,” he ordered her firmly and walked away.

Darcy watched him go, mouth agape. What the fuck had that been?

#7 - Expect the unexpected. He hates being boring.

They didn’t talk about the kiss. At all. Instead, Darcy had stared at the ceiling all night, barely getting any sleep, then hurried into town as soon as the clock hit 9am. Stianger had never emerged for breakfast. She stopped at the grocery store to buy a small ham and potatoes for Christmas Day dinner, the entire time her mind racing. He had kissed her! Stianger had kissed her! This entire time she’d thought her little crush on her alien friend was weird and unwanted but then he’d gone and kissed her and now she didn’t know what to think. Maybe he liked her too?
 
What was she, in highschool? Rolling her eyes over her own mental ‘oh no, does he like me’ schtick, Darcy focused on the job at hand. She needed a Christmas present for Stianger stat. And now that he’d kissed her it had to be a good one. Her original plan of seeing if she could find him a gag gift of anything Smurf related was now off the table. If there was any chance that Christmas Day could end with her breaking her dry streak then she wasn’t going to ruin things by getting Stianger a present he’d hate.
 
Finally finding something, Darcy had it wrapped and hurried back to the cabin. Dropping the gift under the tree she all but ran to the bedroom to get ready for dinner while Stianger glared at her and made little exasperated noises over her slowness.
 
Dinner at Karen’s was actually pretty nice. She’d done her best and made them a pretty nice spread with roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, potatoes, and broccoli. Her gravy had been to die for, Darcy slathering it on everything and feeling like she’d gained five pounds just from that alone.
 
Dottie had been invited too. Dottie was apparently a little old 88 year old woman who lived in town and didn’t have any family left. Karen had started to look in on her after the Snap and apparently that meant Stianger had gotten involved as well.
 
“He’s such a sweet boy,” Dottie cooed as Darcy sipped her third glass of wine. “He’s been helping me ever so much around the house. Shoveling the walk and salting it for me. Such a good boy.”
 
It was official. Her alien had a gaping sweet spot for older women. She smirked over her wine glass mouthing, “I’m on to you,” as Stianger rolled his eyes at her and discretely made a rude gesture. It was all she could do not to laugh. She’d finally started rubbing off on him.
 
Leaving Karen’s just before midnight, Stianger had snatched her keys out of her hand and wrapped an arm around her waist as she staggered towards her car. “You’re drunk,” he muttered.
 
“No I’m not,” Darcy protested. “”sides… You drank more than me!”
 
“I cannot get drunk on the weak swill you call alcohol,” Stianger said. Ignoring her continued protests he packed her into the passenger’s side of the car and drove them home flawlessly.

“Could you always do that?” Darcy murmured as Stianger helped her back indoors.
 
He snorted, dropping them both on the couch. His head hit the seat back and he stared up at the ceiling looking exhausted. “Human, I have piloted vessels far more advanced than your wheeled conveyance. It was not particularly difficult.”
 
“You say that but I could taste how nervous you were,” Darcy giggled. She snuggled up next to him, slotting herself in the space under his arm and resting her head sleepily on his shoulder. Her alien looked down at her strangely but shifted his arm to give her more room, dropping it down around her after she’d settled. “Like a big ball of bees all rolled up in wintergreen.”
 
He chuckled lowly and she could hear it reverberate through his chest. Settling back he dropped his cheek to the top of her head, his fingers playing with the starting to fray hem of her sweater. “There are deer about. It would have been dangerous for you if I struck one while at speed.”
 
“Dangerous for me, huh? The only danger would be for you if you wrecked my car. I’d kick your big blue butt.” She snuggled closer, feeling Stianger’s breath hitch. “You smell good. Like winter things.”
 
“Yes, well, it’s called bathing regularly,” Stianger drawled. Face impassive he nonetheless drew her closer until she was pressed flush against his side, dozing happily. “You should try it sometime.”
 
Struggling for an appropriate comeback that wasn’t just ‘fuck off Stianger’ when she was so tired, Darcy blinked as the clocks began to chime. Stianger turned to look at the one on the wall as she counted twelve. “Midnight.”
 
“Merry Christmas Stianger,” Darcy whispered. Too comfortable to move she shifted her head just enough to press a kiss against his shoulder. He jerked a little at that, eyes whipping to her as she snuggled back in. “You better have gotten me a good present.”
 
He chuckled again and pressed his lips gently against the top of her head. “Merry Christmas Darcy Lewis.”
 
The two of them sat and dozed together on the couch for Darcy didn’t know how long before Stianger sighed and began to stir. Ignoring Darcy’s sleepy pleadings he got to his feet and stretched. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes he looked down at her and frowned. “You should have the bed tonight,” he said, kneeling down to prod her side until she growled and tried to slap his hand away. “Get up.”
 
“Go ‘way,” she growled. “I’m comfy here. Besides, you’re like two million feet too long for the couch.”
 
“I can sleep on the floor.”
 
Muttering something vulgar she buried her head into a cushion and flipped him the bird.
 
“We could share,” Stianger suggested cautiously. He paused, looking down at her and sighed. Already sound asleep. He should have tried that line earlier. Gently covering Darcy with a blanket he removed her shoes and checked the fire then retreated to the bedroom. Bear sleepily following him inside before he shut the door.

*****
 
Darcy dreamed of spring. The snow was melting, the forest floor a sea of snowdrops as the sun beat down overhead. She was looking for something, looking hard, but no matter where she turned she couldn’t find it. The taste of wintergreen was rich on her lips. She tried to follow it, becoming more and more frantic in her dream when it refused to be found. Running into the forest, snowdrops shattering like glass with her every step she stumbled down the ravine. She’d just reached the tree, finding the desiccated husk of a blue man with his lips tightly sewn shut when she abruptly woke.
 
Blinking in the darkness, Darcy sat up and rubbed her eyes. She looked around the tiny cabin. It was dimly lit by the low fire, the golden glow covering everything as she fussed with the glasses she’d fallen asleep in. What had woken her? Yawning, she stood and walking to the kitchen. She needed a Tylenol and a big glass of water to drink to get ahead of any hangover that dared show its face. She wasn’t about to ruin Christmas morning by spending it worshipping the porcelain throne.
 
Not turning any lights on she grabbed a glass from memory and shoved it under the tap. She was in the middle of drinking it when she heard it again, the sound that had woken her.
 
Thump. Thump. Thump.
 
It sort of sounded like someone was at the door. Peering outside the kitchen window Darcy caught a glimpse of movement. Had Stianger locked himself out? Stupid alien. She barely remembered to lock her doors when she left the cabin, how had he locked himself out? Yawning again she rubbed her eyes as she went to let him back in.
 
Plodding down the hall she sighed as the knock came again, even and heavy. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” she muttered, reaching the door. Fumbling with her glass she hit the porch light on, clicked open the lock, and turned the knob.
 
“Darcy.” Stianger’s voice came from down the hall. Turning her head Darcy could see him at the end of it, softly lit from the fire. If Stianger is there, then who was knocking? He reached for her and she could see his face was a mask of terror. She could taste it too, the wintergreen rush of panic that shook her to the core. “Don’t open the door!”
 
Unfortunately it was too late for that. Even as Darcy yanked her hand away from the knob the door shifted and opened. A massive blue hand pushed the door the rest of the way open revealing a giant version of Stianger standing on the other side of the door. His red eyes flashed as he leaned over, kneeling down until they were eye level. Reaching out for her, he grinned at Darcy with teeth that were more like tusks as cold radiated through the room.
 
“Greetings, Human. We have much to discuss.”

Chapter Text

A lot of things happened all at once. As the huge blue giant - a giant! - tried to push his way through the doorway Stianger shoved her back. With a snarl he threw himself at the larger creature, bodily knocking him away from the door and into the snow. Darcy could hear the sound of Bear barking frantically in the distance as her glass slipped from her hand, shattering on the tile of the landing. Mindlessly she stepped back, feet crunching on glass.

The two blue aliens rolled in the snow. Stianger was smaller, but faster. He got to his feet first. Her kitchen knives were in his hands, the blades flashed in the porch light as he screamed loudly, diving at the bigger giant with them upraised.

A massive club more like a telephone pole knocked him away, sent Stranger flying, and suddenly there were two more of the giants standing there. Just as huge as the first they smirked, hitting Stianger again. With a crack so loud it sounded like a gunshot in the still winter night, Stianger hit a tree and went still. One of the giants raised his club again to finish him off and Darcy could only stand there, scream frozen in her throat as her mind chanted giant, giant, giant and tried not to end on what that meant.

Stianger looked just like the giants only smaller. He radiated cold and didn’t mind the snow. He was ridiculously strong even though he tried not to show it. He had an appetite to rival Thor.

Giant. Frost giant. Jotunn. Lo-

No!

The big giant that Stianger had tackled got to his feet and held up a hand causing the other two to bow their heads and step away. Whatever was happening he was clearly in charge. Knocking snow from his long fur cloak he marched forward, feet crunching in the snow until he stood before the tree where Stianger was too slowly trying to recover. Stianger was clutching his side. Leaning against the tree he tried to stand, but stumbled and fell back down as the huge giant loomed over him and chuckled.

“A pathetic attempt from the so-called prince,” the giant rumbled. “Did you really think it possible to kill me? Or did you hope that I would simply end your torment?”

“I am the rightful King of Jotunheim,” Stianger growled. He coughed, blood on his teeth as he glared up at the giant. “You should kneel before me.”

“A true King kneels to no one,” the giant growled. His arm struck out like a viper, smacking Stianger and knocking him back towards the cabin.

Landing with a loud crack, Stianger cried out in pain before looking up and meeting Darcy’s shell shocked gaze. “What are you doing? Get out of here!” he shouted at her.

She could only stare back though, tears pricking her eyes as the huge giant walked towards Stianger and picked him up with a massive hand. “Why would your captor run?” the giant boomed. “She and I will have a talk, we will make her understand her role in this farce, and then we shall leave this realm until it is time to collect you once more. No, in this matter she has nothing to fear from us. Not like you should fear.”

The huge blue hand lifted Stianger up, up, up until his feet were a good three feet off the ground. Fingers wrapped around Stianger’s throat and face and Darcy could see him kick desperately, clawing at the hand that held him. Wintergreen filled her mouth and she could feel his absolute terror. It was a deep feeling of overwhelming horror, a kind of sick dread of knowing what was about to happen and being utterly powerless to stop it. A knowledge of pain, and the despair that it would happen again. Letting out a wheeze Stianger’s eyes closed as he tried to squeeze out a pleading ‘please.’ He was going to die, of that Darcy was certain, and it was enough to get her to finally move.

Glass crunched under her feet as Darcy grabbed the first thing she could lay her hands on and burst into the snow. “Let him go!” she screamed, and hit the giant as hard as she could with an umbrella.

The giant grunted and looked down at her, red eyes narrowed. He didn’t seem phased in the slightest. Fuck, that had been a bad idea. Yet, to her surprise, he dropped Stianger and stepped away. Stianger hit the ground with a thump, coughing and clawing at his own neck and Darcy ran to him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, heedless of the cold, kneeling in the snow and cradling him as the big lumbering footsteps retreated then returned.

Stianger froze, almost cringing against her as the giant dropped a bag by her side. “Mortal child of Midgard, this is for you,” the giant said. He glared down at them, Darcy glaring fiercely back up as Stianger trembled against her. “You have been derelict in your duty, but we forgive you for it. Your kind has been long removed from the nine realms and you have obviously forgotten our ways. Now let us inside. There are things that must be discussed before we depart.”

Swallowing heavily, Darcy stood. Stianger, the person she’d thought of as Stianger, reached for her and whispered her name but shuddered back as she bent over and grabbed the bag. The fabric was coarse and it was heavy in her hands as the giant followed her back to the cabin and she led the way inside.

It was a tight fit. The giant was a full ten feet tall and built like a brick wall but he’d squeezed himself through her front door and down the hall with minimal indignity. Even standing in the vaulted main room he looked huge, head almost brushing the ceiling as he gazed at the mounted deer head on the wall and smiled.

“Will you not offer me a drink? Food and salt for my guest price?” the giant rumbled.

“This isn’t fucking Game of Thrones and you said yourself that you’re not staying. Let’s just get this over with,” Darcy spat. She threw the bag to the ground as her mind continued to scream giant, giant, giant. She could smell smoke, remembered fire and people screaming in terror. She’d dashed into a pet shop to save the animals, running through town with a puppy in her arms and promising it that she’d save it as a way of promising herself the same. All because of Thor’s brother. The adopted one. The one that Erik and Thor had called a Frost Giant like the creature now chuckling at her and sitting on her couch. He nearly took up the entire thing, springs squeaking loudly in protest, but at least it didn’t break under his weight. With the giant seated and her on her feet, they were nearly eye level. In a way it almost made him more intimidating.

“I am Býleistr, son of Laufey, King of Jotunheim,” the giant said. “Nearly a month ago we sent to you the traitor, the betrayer, Liesmith, the destroyer of worlds-“

“You mean Loki.” Darcy’s mouth stumbled over the name. She’d wanted to say another. One that was more friendly and familiar, but she couldn’t. Something inside of her broke at that, happy memories shattering in an instant as the horrible feeling that she’d been played as a fool raced within her. Wrapping her arms around herself she shuddered hard and thought of fire and terror and the feeling of something small and helpless in her arms. “You sent me Loki. Why?”

“There is a Way near here,” Býleistr said with a shrug. “My spies told me you had experience with the King of Asgard but were no friend of the betrayer. We thought you might understand the message.”

“Well, I didn’t.” She hadn’t understood a thing. How stupid had she been, taking him in like that? So eager to help and please him that she hadn’t even questioned him when he’d lied to her about his name. She’d given him his space. She hadn’t pried. She’d even helped trick herself into thinking he was someone worth helping, coming up with the idea that he was one of the Kree all on her own instead of… This.

“We shall admit that was our error,” Býleistr boomed. Looking at him again Darcy could see how he and Loki differed. Besides the height the ridges on the giant’s face were deeper, more jagged. More like the broken off edges of ice than the smoother tribal tattoos Loki’s face held. Býleistr’s teeth were longer too, almost tusk-like in his mouth. He was dressed all in tattered furs, the long cape draping all over her couch and floor as he sat there and gazed at her with his almond shaped bright red eyes. “We thought he would be recognized here, even with the changes we made to his form. We did not realize that your people would have forgotten the signs of a traitor.”

“How did he even survive?” Darcy asked. She was trying her best to dismiss the thoughts of smoke and couldn’t. Of Thor laying there broken before a massive machine that roared fire and destruction. “Thor said that Thanos killed him while they were still in space. Then the ship was destroyed.”

“It was a near thing,” Býleistr said and smiled. It was not a particularly nice smile, each one of the giants sharp yellow teeth on display as he grinned cruelly. “I led an expedition to the ruins of Asgard in an attempt to recover something precious to my people. While in the quadrant we overheard a distress call and went to investigate.” His smile only widened, eyes glinting darkly. “It was glorious. The bodies of our enemies were all around. And in the center, the so-called Prince of Asgard. My traitorous little brother in his false skin. He was a breath away from death. It took many healers to bring him back and make him well, but it was worth the cost to see him finally face his rightful punishment.”

“So you healed him just so you could sew his lips together and tie him to one of my trees?” She was so confused. The smell of smoke seemed to be everywhere and all she wanted was to go back to bed, wake up, and find that this was all just a dream. She wanted to laugh at Stianger’s bed head and give him her crappy Christmas present. She wanted things to go back to the way they had been yesterday before she had a frost giant sitting on her couch.

“The mark of a traitor. The sign that the one before you is on a journey of retribution before their final punishment,” Býleistr hissed. “Open the bag.”

Darcy hesitated, wanting to scream at the giant to get out, but picked up the bag. Opening it she removed a huge crystal ball. It was nearly the size of a basketball, the inside clouded with smoke that seemed to move as she turned it in the light. She placed it by her feet before removing the second item which looked like a remote more sized to Býleistr’s hands than her own. “What are these for?”

“For the fulfillment of your duty,” Býleistr said. “Unless Midgard wishes to surrender their claim to the traitor and return him to us for judgement.”

It was on the tip of Darcy’s tongue to say, yes just take him, but she stopped and looked at the giant. She thought of Stianger when he’d first arrived. His conviction that she’d been trying to trick him before she could begin his torture and her mouth went dry. “You expect me to use these to somehow torture Loki.”

“For the destruction of Jotunheim and the murder of the King we sealed the traitor’s magic. A traitor’s walk is to spend three months with each of the parties he has betrayed before final judgement, but that was not enough for us to get our fair retribution. So we created these.” Reaching out with an impossibly long arm Býleistr picked up the orb. It didn’t look as ridiculously over-sized in his hands. Tapping the top he turned it and the smoke inside cleared to reveal a scene of devastation and fire.

“For three months he stayed in our power and I granted him what he deserved. Fire and blood and pain. Then we sent him to Svartalfheim for his part in the death of their leader, Malekith.” He tapped the orb again. The smoke reappeared then cleared once more to show a tiny chamber, dark and claustrophobic. The walls were stone and seemed to be dripping water as she looked into the orb. Býleistr’s brows narrowed, looking displeased. “The elves do not have much creativity. Yet, they also fulfilled their duties and after three months he was sent here for the terror the betrayer spread on your world. You did not do your duty.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t have your fancy orb thingie and torture is so last year. So that’s it? You guys tortured him for six months and dropped him off here?” Darcy asked. “That’s your big punishment for everything he’s done? For all the people he’s killed?”

“We did not provide you the orb because we had hoped you could provide the traitor with something… different than what he had experienced. We’ve watched your people for a long time. Your realm is well known for its creativity.” The giant smiled at her and gestured to the remote. “No, what we punished the traitor with was time. To use the device separates the traitor’s mind from his body and places it in the orb. For every day in our world, a hundred years passes in his.”

“A hundred years,” Darcy whispered. A pang went through her as she thought of the tiny cold chamber. Three months. If the elves had used it every day he’d been with them then Loki had spent the equivalent of nine thousand years locked up in that tiny thing. Not to mention the nine thousand years he’d spent in the fires of the giant’s torture. Eighteen thousand years of torture. If that was true then she was surprised he could still function and wasn’t just a gibbering mad man. How could anyone survive something like that? “And now you want me to do the same.”

“With your time remaining. If you do not choose to send him directly to his final trial.”

“Which is?”

“Execution,” Býleistr said. His smile widened revealing every single one of his sharp yellowed teeth. “We will gather a council and each world that has been wronged will decide on the method.”

Torture and execution. It was probably what Loki deserved but Darcy’s traitorous mind thought of Stianger sitting in her Grandfather’s chair, laughing himself sick over the elves singing in The Hobbit and her stomach flipped. “What about Thor?” she asked, looking at the giant. “Loki didn’t just attack our worlds, he also helped destroy Asgard. When does Thor get his turn?”

“The new King of Asgard is weak-willed and soft,” Býleistr growled, eyes narrowing. “He would protest our sentencing and attempt to hide the traitor from us. He shall not take part. After Midgard takes their turn the trial shall be decided. Now, human, tell me, will you do your duty or will you surrender your claim on the traitor and send him directly to sentencing?”

Darcy stared at his hateful red eyes for a long moment before reaching out and grabbing the orb back with both hands. “Get out of my house,” she hissed.

Býleistr laughed, slapping his knees and stood. “I knew I could count on the children of Midgard,” he boasted, heading towards the front door.

It took more undignified hunching, but he made it outside where the other two frost giants were still hemming in Loki, their clubs upraised as if to strike him if he moved. He looked so small in between them, clutching his side tightly and wincing in pain. Loki’s eyes went to her and his skin went ashen as he saw her with the orb and remote. Darcy heard him whisper her name in a shaking voice as the huge cloaked giant crossed the snowy expanse of her driveway.

Býleistr reached down, clasping Loki on the shoulder and smiling widely. “Well met, brother. Until our next meeting. We greatly look forward to it.” Looking back to her he nodded. "We will return when the second moon rises to bring final judgement. Until then, mortal."

Loki fell to his knees, eyes still on Darcy as the giants stepped onto the snow. Moving quickly they vanished between the trees. The woods were silent. Not even the sound of the wind interrupting them.

“Darcy,” Loki whispered. He looked over to her, chest heaving and his eyes wide. “I can explain.”

“You lied to me,” Darcy said. She stared out at him, recognizing a familiar face and somehow not knowing it at all. “You lied and now I’m wondering why I should even be surprised that you did it. What is it that they call you again? Oh yeah, Liesmith? Father of Lies? Something like that.”

Loki winced as if he’d been struck, gaze dropping to the ground. “I did not intend to betray your trust.”

“Like hell you didn’t!” Darcy screamed. Tears were streaming down her face and she clutched the remote tightly as she glared at him. “I was there, you know. When you attacked Puente Antiguo and tried to kill Thor. You wrecked the entire town, you almost killed me! You tried to destroy New York and take over the world! You knew that if I found out who you were I’d turn you over to SHEILD in a hot second and they wouldn’t be afraid at all of making sure you were punished for your crimes. Admit it!”

“I…” Loki seemed lost for words which was impossible for him. Erik had called him Silvertongued. He had to be trying to figure out how to manipulate her again. “The thought did cross my mind.”

“So you lied! You lied and made me think you were my friend! Made me trust you…”

“I wanted to be your friend,” he said, voice so soft she could barely hear it over the pounding of her own heart.

“Stop lying!”

“No,” Loki said, voice firm. Shaking slightly he got to his feet, taking a step towards her. “I am not lying. I wanted to be your friend. I wanted to fit in here.” His eyes screwed shut and he looked pained as he took another step forward, feet dragging in the snow. He was still clutching his side, fighting a wince as he moved toward her. Darcy’s side hurt with residual pain. “I wanted to be the person you thought of me as.”

Her tears were almost blinding her as she trembled. “Keep away from me you psycho son of a bitch!“

“I’m sorry.” That was enough to shut her up. The expression on Loki’s face was so raw, open and pleading as he continued forward to stand before her. “I am sorry that I lied to you. That I did not tell you who I was as soon as I entered your home. I… I did not wish for you to think of me as a monster.”

She could taste wintergreen. Felt the roar of his emotions flood through her. Desperation. Guilt. Concern. Anticipation.

A flicker of a frown crossed Loki’s face as he looked down. “You’re bleeding. Your feet,” he said softly.

Darcy glanced down to see her sock stained red by blood. It was all in a trail down the hall. The broken cup. She hadn’t even realized that she’d stepped on it in her haste to try and save Stianger from the frost giant… To save Loki…

“Let me help you,” he said. He reached for her, eyes soft and pleading. “Please, Darcy."

His hand brushed her cheek and Darcy jerked back, eyes narrowing. Without thinking she yanked up the remote and, as Loki cringed back, slammed her finger down on the central button.

Loki looked at her eyes wide as he whispered her name. Then his eyes dropped shut and like a puppet who’s strings had suddenly been cut he toppled into the snow.

Darcy stared down at him, heart hammering. He didn’t move. Didn’t even stir as she dropped the remote with numb fingers and knelt next to him in the snow. “Stia- Loki?” she whispered. Nothing happened when she prodded him. When she turned him over and held him in her arms he was limp as a rag doll, jaw slack and head lolling. She shook him, calling his name over and over until the first hint of dawn broke over the horizon. “Shit,” she whispered. Darcy sat in the snow, clutching him close as she stared out over the silent forest. “Fuck!”

What had she done?

Chapter Text

Shit, shit, shit…

Loki hadn’t moved as she dragged him back into the cabin. He barely seemed to be breathing. Collapsing next to him in the hall, Darcy took a moment to break into a minor panic attack. Loki. She’d been rooming with Thor’s crazy younger brother, Loki. She’d been letting Loki sleep in her cabin’s one bedroom and taken Loki clothes shopping. She’d enabled Loki’s addition to mini-marshmallows and trusted Loki enough to think of him as her friend. Wrapping her arms around her knees she closed her eyes and tried to take long slow breathes to calm down.

Shit. So she’d been rooming with Loki. A blue version of the terror who had come to New York and sent the Destroyer to New Mexico. A Loki that didn’t seem to have any of his magical powers. She should call Thor. She could raise the remaining Avengers and sound the alarm. She should…

Her eyes drifted to the still body on her floor. Loki still wasn’t moving. Even though she hadn’t been thinking straight she’d hit the button on the remote and that meant… That meant Loki was being tortured. Right now. In his own head so that the experience would last longer. She was torturing Loki. It was exactly what Stianger/Loki had feared when he first arrived.

Fuck. What had she done?

If nothing else you could say that Darcy Lewis was practical. Though her hands trembled at the thought, she knew there was nothing she could do for Loki right now. Hobbling to the kitchen she checked her foot. It was still bleeding freely but there didn’t seem to be any broken glass embedded in her skin so she bandaged it carefully and went back to where Loki lay in the hall. She’d probably need a tetanus shot just to be on the safe side, but that could come tomorrow. Right now she had an unconscious Jotunn to deal with.

But how?

There was a part of her, a dark part, that thought she should bind him while she could. Truss him up, hog tie him if she could figure out what that meant, and have Thor haul him away. He’d likely be furious when he woke up and from watching Stianger she knew that even without his magic he was naturally much stronger than she was. After he awoke he’d probably snap her neck first thing and be done with her. He was a murderer after all. A murderer and a monster and…

…Stianger had been so afraid that she’d come to think of him as a monster. He’d said as much to her in the car. It had been in the ugly and dangerous self-loathing she’d picked up from him with her powers as well. Stianger, actually Loki, had expected her to think of him as some sort of hideous monster and she’d proven him right within minutes of learning his true name. Without even comprehending what it would do to him she’d pushed the button and sent him off into a hundred years of torture. All while he’d done nothing to harm her. Sure, he could be annoying sometimes and he had a bit of an attitude, but she’d thought of him as her friend. She’d tortured her friend.

Wiping tears from her eyes, Darcy nodded to herself and grabbed Loki by the feet. He was ridiculously heavy, way heavier than a skinny guy like him should be, but she planted her feet and began to drag him back towards the bedroom. Opening the door revealed a frantic Bear and a puddle of piddle in the corner. She knew exactly how he felt. The big dog barked at her before running behind her to whine at the too-still Loki. He continued to whine as Darcy slowly dragged him into the room, his doggy brain only caring that his friend was down for the count, not that his identity had changed. Dogs were great like that.

It took forever to get Loki onto the bed. As a dead weight he was floppy and refused to stay in place when she moved him. Cursing under her breath and pledging to lift more weights she finally managed to boost him onto the bed, rolling him to the center. With trembling hands she carefully arranged his limbs until he looked comfortable, fluffing the pillows under his head. Loki’s forehead was cool to the touch as she reached up and gently stroked back his hair. He didn’t move as she quietly tucked a strand behind his ears.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, looking down at him. “I really didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry.”

Nothing. Not even a twitch touched the deep clefts on his face. Darcy’s fingers ran down the tribal tattoo ridges on Loki’s skin as she bit her lip and tried not to cry. Despite always wanting to she’d never had the courage to touch him this way before. Probably after he woke up he’d never want her this close again. So she stroked his face gently and tried not to cry as she silently mourned the all the things she’d ruined without even thinking first.

Leaving his side, Darcy went and got the remote from where she’d dropped it by the front door. Briefly she considered breaking it, but instead brought it back to study it and sit vigil by Loki’s still form. Turning it over in her hands she looked at the rune covered markings wishing she knew what any of them meant or what the buttons actually did. She couldn’t risk making whatever was happening to Loki worse.

Grabbing her laptop she tried to google the runes but it didn’t help in the slightest. The runic alphabet didn’t correspond well to English. Apparently runes could represent either individual words or ideas as well as sounds. Great. Also, even if each grouping of runes did spell out words it wasn’t like there was an easy Frost Giant to English dictionary. Especially one that covered phrases that might be found on alien torture remotes. 

Cursing under her breath she threw the laptop across the room. It hit the wall, screen going black and she buried her face in her hands and screamed. There had to be something she could do. There had to be! She couldn’t just sit here and do nothing!

Setting the remote on the end table, Darcy began to pace. Loki laid still as a corpse on the bed, his chest barely moving as he breathed. More than once she laid her head on his chest, listening closely to his heartbeat just to assure herself that he was still alive.

She should call Thor. Running into the main room she grabbed her cell phone and pulled up Thor’s number, but froze before she could place the call. If she called Thor what was she going to tell him? Oh yeah, hey Thor! Funny story. Turns out your brother is alive and blue and has been crashing with me for the last couple weeks. Also, guess what? Before I got him he’d been magically tortured in a crystal ball for thousands of years. Fun! Also, my bad, but I ended up sending him into the torture ball too. Merry Christmas!

Hands trembling she stuck her phone on the charger and went back to the bedroom. No, she couldn’t call Thor. Not until Loki woke up. Not until she got the chance to explain herself and convinced him to forgive her. If he could ever forgive her. She wasn’t certain she could forgive herself. 

Crashing into the bed next to Loki, Darcy wrapped her arms around his too still body and clung to him. “You stupid head. I said I was sorry. Please, just wake up already so you can yell at me for being such an asshole. I’ll let you rant for as long as you need. I promise. I totally deserve it,” she whispered. Bear looked up at her teary voice from the foot of the bed letting out another whine before laying down and resting his head back on Loki’s ankle.

“See?” Darcy asked, eyes full of tears. “Bear wants you to wake up too. You better wake up. Please, Loki…”

There never was a response.

*****

Somehow Darcy managed to fall asleep. When she awoke the sun was high in the sky and Loki was still dead to the world at her side. Remembering a trick she’d seen on a medical show to test whether someone was faking unconsciousness or not, she picked up his hand and pulled it up. Frowning, she dropped it. His hand hit his face with a dull smack and she sighed. According to TV, if he’d been faking unconsciousness he would have missed hitting himself in the face.

Rearranging him comfortably, she looked for the time and found that it wasn’t even noon. Býleistr had told her that pushing the button would send Loki to the torture ball for a full day. It had been well past midnight when she pressed the button. There was still over twelve hours before Loki should wake up.

If he woke up. What if she’d fucked up the remote?

That thought sent her on a whole new round of panic. Again she googled the runes on the remote and found nothing particularly helpful. Nothing that would tell her how to wake Loki up at least. Pacing again, she remembered the huge glass orb and ran for it, picking it up and shaking it to try and get the smoke to clear. If she couldn’t wake Loki up than maybe she could at least affect the torture he was under. Make it not so bad. Maybe make it not torture at all. Loki had been ploughing through her book collection ever since she’d shown him where it was. A hundred years in a perpetual library didn’t sound so bad. With snacks and an infinite hot cocoa machine that dispensed endless mini-marshmallows. Maybe she could send him someplace like that instead. 

How had Býleistr worked the thing? Carrying the orb back into the bedroom she set it on the bed next to where Bear had draped himself over Loki’s legs and tried to figure out how to use it. Býleistr had just tapped the top. Repeating that action she grinned as the smoke began to clear and-

Fire. Endless fire. It was everywhere inside of the orb and in the middle of it she could see a small figure. It was Loki, chained to a rock. His fingers had been blackened, huge swaths of his skin burned past recognition from the flames as the chains held him and cooked him in place. A shadowy figure stood over him, a jagged stone spear in its hand as it repeatedly jabbed Loki with it again and again. Loki’s chest was awash in blood as the spear sank in again and he was screaming. She could hear him screaming, distant and tinny through the walls of the glass orb. He was screaming and begging and-

Darcy barely made it to the bathroom before she was sick. She heaved, retching for long after her stomach was empty and then sobbed on the floor, curled into a ball. What the actual fuck was that? Loki was trapped in a hundred years of that torture because she’d pressed a button without thinking. He’d been in seemingly thousands of years of that torture before he came to her because Býleistr and the like thought that Loki deserved a punishment like that. Thousands of years of fire and being stabbed and being absolutely alone through each and every second of it.

It was all her fault that he was back.

Yelling at the orb did nothing. Trying to use her thoughts to end the torture, to quiet the flames, did nothing. Throwing the orb against the wall did nothing either. Darcy ran out to the shed in her stocking feet and brought back a sledgehammer to break the orb but was too afraid to follow through after a single whack chipped the surface. She didn’t know what could happen if she broke the orb. It could wake Loki up or it could trap him in it permanently. Maybe even kill him. Without knowing what to do with it, but desperate to do something she buried the orb in a snow drift outside, hoping but not convinced that doing so could possibly lessen the flames. 

She called Thor right after what should have been lunch. It took him a long time to answer during which Darcy debated hanging up dozens of times before the call finally went through and Thor’s face lit up the screen. He was flushed from drink, a sad smile and a demure greeting on his lips. Loud music played in the background and she could hear the sound of people’s laughter. Fuck. She’d interrupted him at a party. 

Darcy stared at her phone screen and willed her tongue to work. She needed help, needed advice on what to do with Thor’s blue brother who was still unconscious on her bed. Loki needed to wake up. She needed him to wake up. At this point she was prepared to do anything if it meant Loki would wake up sooner, consequences be damned. Even if it meant Loki would be furious with her and murder her dead she’d consider it worth it. There was no way she could stand by and do nothing while he was tortured for a minute longer.

All this and more was on the tip of her tongue but she couldn’t get it to work. Fuck. She was such a fucking coward. Mutely Darcy stared at Thor and Thor stared back through the screen until his face dropped with concern. “Lady Darcy? Is all well?”

“Yes!” she said brightly and the pain that wracked her heart had nothing to do with her powers. “I’m fine. Just overdid it a little last night. I’m glad to see that you’re doing better Thor.”

They chatted for a while about nothing despite the fact that her eyes kept drifting to her open bedroom door and the bed beyond. No matter how hard she tried, no matter how determined she was, she couldn’t make the words leave her lips. Thor deserved to know that the brother he mourned was alive, he deserved that, but she just couldn’t force the words out of her mouth. It would mean confessing to what she did. To telling Thor what Býleistr had said about coming back to execute Loki in just a few months. But she just couldn’t do it, couldn’t risk Thor hating her. So instead she talked of pointless things with Thor until that talking raccoon came looking for him and dragged Thor back to the party. After another promise to see him next week for New Years they said their goodbyes and she signed off. 

Darcy stared at the floor, phone dropping from her hand. Tears dripped from her eyes as she mentally berated herself. That had been a pointless exercise. She should have told Thor about Loki. It wouldn’t have mattered if either brother ended up hating her, Loki could have been awake sooner if she’d gotten Thor out to the cabin to help. Burying her face in her hands, Darcy concentrated on taking deep breaths. What now? If she managed to summon her courage she could call Thor right back and try telling him this time. Or maybe there was someone else to call? Who on Earth would even know what to do with a frosty alien and a magical torture remote though? Especially on Christmas Day.

Shit. It was Christmas, wasn’t it?

Despite herself, her eyes drifted to the unlit Christmas tree and the two presents underneath its green boughs. Stianger... Loki had put her present under the tree on Christmas Eve, yesterday, right before they’d left for Karen’s house. He’d sneered at her in that way where he was actually trying not to smile, saying that he hadn’t wanted her to be tempted into opening it early. Humans had such little self-control, Darcy most of all. Yesterday that had made her laugh. Today it was too true and she wanted to cry. His present to her was covered in emerald green, a big golden ribbon wrapped around the box and done up in a complicated looking bow. Again, yesterday she’d thought his wrapping game was on point. Today the box was so painfully color coded ‘Loki’ that she couldn’t help but berate herself for not realizing it sooner.

Picking up the green package, Darcy stared at it for a long moment. The paper was folded perfectly, every edge crisp and the tape straight and even. The ribbon and bow look like something out of a Martha Stewart ad or an impossible to replicate Pinterest post with its perfectly even loops. It was Stianger’s military precision and obsessive attention to detail in a present and she couldn’t help but wonder how Loki come to be like that. Whenever Thor had stayed with them to be with Jane at the lab he’d been a horrible slob. The sort of person who’d expected others to pick up after him and didn’t understand why it didn’t happen. Stianger had always picked up after himself, tidied after her as well. Maybe that was why Thor had never learned if Loki had always been there to clean up his messes.

Staring at the box she just couldn’t resist. While there was not a single part of her that thought she deserved a Christmas gift she had to see what it was. What Loki had wanted to give her while he was masquerading as Stianger. Yanking off the bow she tore open the perfectly wrapped package and opened the box.

She pulled out a picture frame. It was heavier than any of the others she owned, fancier, the wide frame colored Asgardian gold. Looking at the photo Darcy felt her throat go tight as her eyes pricked with tears once more. The picture was of a selfie she had taken with Stianger not too long ago. She’d insisted that the two of them watch the extended Lord of the Rings trilogy after Stianger finished the books. Claiming they needed a before and after picture she’d practically tackled Stianger into the couch to take the photo.

There she was in her favorite Spider-Man pajamas, a wide grin on her face and her hair done up in a messy ponytail. Stianger was…. Loki was at her side, her arm dragging him into frame as he tried to make sure their bowl of popcorn didn’t tip over. He hadn’t been particularly fond of popcorn, said it was too salty, but he’d enjoyed throwing it at her as she tried to catch pieces in her mouth instead of watching the movie. In the picture Loki was looking at her and smiling with that little twist of the lips of his that meant that anyone else would be grinning widely. He looked happy. They both looked happy. And a real happiness, not one that they were faking for posterity. 

Eyes welling with tears, Darcy turned the golden frame around to see a note had been attached to the back. ‘Darcy and ᚻ, 2019’ it read in perfect cursive writing. She stared at the rune for a long time before looking it up. Despite looking like a weird n it was the rune for Haglaz which represented hail, crisis and catastrophes, sudden change, transformation, and the acceptance of the unalterable. She didn’t understand until she stumbled across a website hosted by a New Agey Norse type that said the rune was sometimes associated with Loki due to his tendency to shake things up and break shit in the myths. Darcy looked back at the bedroom as tears dropped down her cheeks. 

That bastard. He’d all but spelled it out for her. Between his favorite colors, his attitude, and now this he’d all but told her who he really was. Yet, she’d been so happy thinking he was a Kree she’d never even attempted to put it together. 

Carefully putting the framed photo up on a shelf she returned to the bedroom and climbed back into bed with him. “You’re an absolute bastard, you know that?” she whispered. Wrapping her arms around him she tucked herself under his arm and held him as tight as she dared with his injuries. “You better wake up so you can call me an idiot and I can yell at you properly.” She sniffled, dragging her sleeve over her face to mop up the tears and snot. “I only got you a Kindle… So you have to wake up so you can tell me what a terrible gift giver I am. You got that? ….Please, Loki….”

The Norse god in her bed never moved. The sun faded and set, darkness invading the cabin and yet he never moved. Darcy tore herself from the bed to restart her wood fire and to feed herself and Bear, but when she returned to the bedroom Loki still hadn’t moved. She checked the clock. Probably close to four hours to go. Her fingers twitched as she sat on the edge of the bed and watched Loki breathe. She tried to read, she tried to watch YouTube videos on her phone, but her eyes kept drifting to Loki’s blue form and wondering when he would awake.

Midnight came and passed. Darcy felt jittery, like she’d had too much coffee, as the minutes ticked by.

One AM.

Two AM.

What time had she pressed the button anyway? She hadn’t even bothered to glance at the clock. As three AM arrived Darcy began to pace, trying her best not to wring her hands as she wore a groove into the floor.

Four AM.

Five AM.

“For fuck’s sake, you have to be ready to wake up by now,” Darcy growled, tearing at her hair.

Six AM.

It was almost like Loki’s still form was mocking her, reminding her on what she’d done. There had to be something wrong. Some step that Býleistr had neglected to mention and that she hadn’t known to complete. Maybe there was a different button on the remote she had to press. One that would wake Loki up after his 24 hours were over. Maybe he’d stay trapped in his torture dream until it happened.

She’d just grabbed the remote again, peering at it closely to make sure she hadn’t missed anything, when Loki awoke with a jerk. One minute he was dead to the world and the next he was gasping loudly, suddenly sitting upright and clutching at his chest. Darcy squeaked, barely keeping a hold on the remote as Loki groaned again and seemed to curl in on himself in the bed.

For a moment Darcy couldn’t do anything but stare at him, elation and guilt warring in her gut, but tentatively she took a step towards the bed. "Stian- I mean, Loki… You’re awake."

Loki blinked rapidly and looked up at her only for his eyes to focus on the remote still in her hand. Scrambling, he fell from the bed, hitting the floor hard as he struggled to get away from her. His shoulder touched the wall and he pressed himself hard against it, practically cowering as he covered his face with his arms.

She swallowed hard. Carefully setting down the remote, Darcy walked around the bed to look down at the frightened Norse God on her floor. ”Loki,“ she whispered softly. "I... I... "

Shuddering hard, Loki lowered his arm and looked up at her with wide red eyes. He stared at her for a long moment before wrapping his arms around himself and looking away. "If it is all the same to you I would request that you give me five more minutes to recover before sending me back. I would appreciate it greatly."

It felt like she’d swallowed cotton balls as Darcy stood there numbly. Her mouth opened and closed but she couldn’t find the words to say. This wasn’t how she’d pictured Loki waking up. She’d expected him to be furious, not terrified of her. She wanted to throw her arms around him and beg for forgiveness, but she didn’t want to frighten him worse either. There had to be something she could do to make him feel better. Taking up the remote she walked back around the bed and carefully set it at Loki’s feet. "I’m not going to torture you," she whispered softly. "Loki, I’m sorry..."

Still not looking at her, Loki let out a snort. It was almost a laugh, his eyes closing as he pressed himself more tightly against the wall. "I won’t be fooled a second time," he said, voice shuddering.

“I’m not going to torture you,” Darcy said firmly. Kneeling before him she tried to angle herself to look into Loki’s eyes but he kept dropping them, refusing to look at her face. “I promise that I won’t do it again. I didn’t even mean to do it the first time, but I-“

“But what?” Loki interrupted. His voice was full of venom as he finally looked at her, red eyes striking her dumb. His face was an agony of pain as he gazed at her, open hurt in his expression. “But then you realized what I had been telling you all along and found me to be too much of a burden, too much of a monster to bear it any longer? You sent me to that Hel until you could gather enough of your wits so that you could pretend to be my friend again.” He laughed brokenly, hysterically, the hairs on the back of Darcy’s neck rising as he banged his head back against the wall hard enough to leave a dent in the plaster. “Who would want to be a friend to Loki when you can trick the Trickster and strike when you’ve lured him into your trap.”

She swallowed hard. “Loki… I didn’t mean any of this. It was never a trap. I… I wanted to be your friend,” she whispered.

Loki’s eyes were blazing as the temperature in the room suddenly dropped a dozen degrees. Her breath was visible in little puffs, Bear whimpering somewhere behind her as Loki shakily got to his feet to tower over him. “I will not fall for your lies again,” he spat. “Do it. Send me back. It is your right as my captor.”

“I’m not-“ Darcy choked back tears as she scrambled to her feet, backing away. She held up her hands soothingly as Loki continued to glower at her and the temperature continued to plummet. “I’m sorry, okay? How… How can I make this better? Do you want me to call Thor-?”

“NO!” Loki shrieked. The wall behind him seemed to explode with ice crystals, the walls and floor going white with frost. Loki buried his hands in his hair tearing at it as he bent over, shoulders shaking. “He can’t see me like this. He can’t! He can’t!”

Darcy’s breath left her body, the air so cold it hurt to breathe as she scrambled back across the ice. From under the bed Bear yelped and burst out the door, Darcy at his heels as she looked back to the bedroom to see Loki convulsing and losing his shit in the corner. She hesitated at the door, eyes cold with frozen tears. “Loki-!”

He looked up at her and his own face was streaked with ice. “Get out!” he roared. “Get out! Get out!”

A wall of ice flew towards her. Darcy yelped, falling backwards into the main cabin as the bedroom door slammed shut and immediately iced over. Scooting backwards she stared at it, wide-eyed, but the ice didn’t come any further. It only sealed the edges around the door and stayed there, sealing her out as much as it was sealing Loki in. Darcy stared at it for what felt like an eternity, panting in fear and trembling. Fear sweat dotted her brow as she listened to Loki thrash and cry out in the bedroom before suddenly and abruptly going silent.

Hands trembling, Darcy crawled towards the door. It was freezing to the touch, the wood like touching an icicle as she pressed her ear against it. There was silence on the other side. A horrible thought crossed her mind. She’d left the remote in there, what if he’d pushed it on purpose or on accident? What if he’d opened the window and escaped? Was he even still in there?”

“Loki?” she called out tentatively. Her voice wobbled and she hated it, but she gingerly knocked on the door. “Are you okay?”

There was a muffled groan from just on the other side of the door. Jerking away, eyes wide, Darcy realized that the Frost Giant had to be leaning against it, just like she was. Only the ice and an inch of wood was separating them. Looking at the door as if it was a viper ready to strike, Darcy closed her eyes and pressed up against it again.

“I won’t call Thor, I promise,” she said quietly to the wood. She tried to picture where Loki was, how he would be leaning against the door listening to her words. Touching the wood where she thought his shoulder would be she choked back a sob. “I’m so sorry, Loki. Is there… Is there anything I can do to make it better?”

Absolute silence. Then his voice, broken and hoarse. “Leave me alone.”

She snorted hard, choking back snot as he nodded. Some girls could still look pretty as they cried, but Darcy had never been one of them. Mopping up the snot factory that was her face she backed away from the door. “O-Okay. But if you need me for anything I’ll be right here. I promise.”

Looking at the door she waited for a reply but heard nothing. Biting her lip she stared at it for long beyond what was reasonable before getting to her feet and shakily going to the kitchen. The photo of her and Loki, happy and smiling in its golden frame, mocked her from the shelf as she walked by. She couldn’t look at it, hurrying past as she went to go make a cup of hot chocolate. Bear was cowering under the kitchen table, tail solidly under his legs as he looked up at her with brown eyes. He didn’t attempt to come out and Darcy didn’t call for him, walking past to pour milk into the saucepan. Like a robot on autopilot she added the chocolate powder, stirred, and pulled down the coffee mugs. She topped up Stianger’s favorite mug first before filling her own and went to the pantry.

They were out of mini marshmallows.

She stared at the empty bag. There was a bright pink post it note on it, perfect cursive writing on it reading, ‘I regret nothing, but shall complain about it anyway.’ There was a smiley face instead of a signature. Loki knew emoji. Who knew?

Darcy swallowed hard then turned and picked up Stianger’s mug. With a scream she threw it at the wall. Hot chocolate went flying as the mug shattered into a thousand pieces and crashed to the floor. Screaming again Darcy threw her own mug than the saucepan as Bear whimpered. Striking the corner of the shelf, the saucepan crashed to the floor and the picture frame from Loki followed. It hit hard and Darcy heard glass break.

“No, no, no!” she whispered, hurrying over. Ignoring the broken ceramics and cooling milk, she knelt in the mess and picked up the frame. The glass had broken, chocolate milk seeping in to stain Loki’s blue face. Dabbing at it with her sleeve, Darcy felt tears stream down as trying to clean the photo only made it worse. It was just a cheap print. Probably off of someone’s computer. The ink smeared as she rubbed it until she was just looking at an out of focus blur.

The only evidence that she and Loki had been friends, that they could have been friends and she’d destroyed it. Just like she’d destroyed everything else. The only monster in this place was her.

Letting out a sob she clutched the frame to her chest and began to cry in earnest.