Continuing Tales

The Blood-Dimmed Tide

A Marvel Movieverse Story
by ofravenwings

Part 2 of 33

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The Blood-Dimmed Tide

The nightmare comes, as it does almost every night.

No matter how many times she tells her waking self that she wasn't even in New York when it happened, it never makes a difference. Every night, when she closes her eyes, it will come.

She wonders sometimes, when she is awake, where her mind even gets all of the images from. She watched some of the news footage, of course, but unlike most people, she turned the television off after a day.

That day was enough. And now, every night, she gets to live the attack again and again.

Sometimes she's on the ground, running away from the Chitauri. Sometimes she's high in one of the buildings, watching from a desk as the Hulk plunges through the glass as though it wasn't even there.

One thing is always the same, no matter where her dream goes: she's never anyone of consequence. She's always faceless, always nameless, always just one of the screaming, terrified crowd. She's always running, and she's never getting anywhere. And she always knows that she's going to die.

Tonight, her mind offers up something different. Tonight, she's on top of Stark Tower.

She's standing on the edge of the building itself, right on the precipice, her back to the city. She can feel the waves of heat and rushes of air from explosions behind her, and before her, she sees them: Tony Stark, suitless, and Loki with that sceptre. They're talking, but she can't hear them. All she can hear is the rushing of the wind in her ears. She knows that they can't see her. They never see the nameless ones.

For the first time in one of the nightmares, she's herself. Jeans, sneakers, glasses, woollen cap pulled down over her hair. In her pocket is her iPod, the electronics vibrating, though there are no headphones plugged in.

For once, there is no fear, even when she turns and looks down the side of the building. Even when the wind tugs her cap free of her hair, wraps around her wrists, tugs gently.

She wonders what it would be like to fall. Would it be, just for a moment, like flying?

Maybe it would feel like nothing. Maybe it would feel like an end.

She's about to take a step forward when someone grabs her arm. She looks down, sees long fingers, closely trimmed nails, the gold edge of a vambrace. Smells leather and ice.

He turns her around, and she looks up into green, green eyes. Tall, she never realised how tall he was.

Loki pulls her away from the edge, keeping her so close that she can feel his body heat through the leather he wears. Around them, the city changes, becomes the wasteland that she walks through every day.

Everything is silent, as though the city is sleeping. As though the city is dead.

His fingers are still around her arm, and he looks down at her, his brow furrowed.

"Who are you?" he asks.

She finds herself captivated by his lips, the sound of his voice sending s shiver down her spine. "No one," she says. "I'm no one."

#

She wakes drenched in sweat, her heart racing.

She can still hear his voice, still see his eyes. Seeing her, the way no one else ever has.

She's scrabbling for her glasses when she realises how dark the room is. No light from her clock, no light from her phone.

At the window, she pulls the curtains aside. It's like looking out over a black ocean, as though the city has vanished. Even the stars are gone, swallowed by a thick blanket of cloud.

The only light she can see is the A that remains on Stark Tower, lights gleaming here and there in the tower itself. Trust Tony Stark to have power when no one else did.

"A for asshole," she mutters, and she doesn't know who's she's even talking to, Stark or herself.

She drags the blankets from the bed, wraps them around herself, sits in the window and watches the city, waiting for the light to come. Trying to forget the nightmare, trying to forget green eyes.

#

"Miss Lewis!"

Darcy scowls. The coffee machine is in her sights. Her stomach twists, empty. Someone has restocked the creamer, and there's even tiny packets of organic sugar. No one else but Tony Stark manages to get hold of sugar these days.

"Miss Lewis!"

She fixes a smile to her face, turns. The man flagging her down is barely more than a boy, a too-large suit draped over his skinny frame. His Stark ID is clipped to his collar, where no one can avoid seeing it.

"Daniel Blackwood," he says, tapping his ID. He extends a hand, a fat ring glinting on his pinkie. "I don't think we've formally met?"

Darcy forces herself to shake his hand, taking her hand back as soon as she can without being rude. "Can I help you with something?"

"Well," Daniel says,"I think it's you who can help me, Miss Lewis. Darcy."

She says nothing, just lifts an eyebrow.

Daniel clears his throat. "You just started here, right?"

She nods. "Jane got me the job here when they closed the university."

Daniel nods quickly, as though she's telling him something that he already knows. Which she probably is. "Well, you have a new one now."

She raises both eyebrows now. Something wells up inside her. "Oh?" She fights to keep her voice even.

Behind Daniel, she sees a door open. Tony Stark himself enters the foyer, trailed by Pepper and Jane. They're all talking quietly, their faces serious. None of them pay any attention to Darcy and Daniel as they pass. Not even Jane.

Daniel waits until the group has passed through the foyer before he continues. "Jane Foster, hey?" he says, his voice faux casual. "What a bitch, hey?"

Darcy blinks. "What?"

"You know, the way she just foisted you off as soon as she could. And taking you on just because you were the only applicant." Daniel shakes his head, finger tapping against his ID as though it is some secret code. "I don't know why you even stayed there."

Darcy stares at him, her smile become rigid. She was the only applicant?

"Anyway, none of that matters now," Daniel continues without pausing. "Because you're getting a promotion. Of sorts."

Darcy is staring at the door Jane vanished through, still trying to process what Daniel has said. "What?"

Daniel produces a folder from underneath one arm, holds it out. The plastic is damp. "The good news is that you get to stay at Stark Tower. You get your own apartment, food, everything. On the same floor as me, come to think of it," he adds casually.

She stares at the folder. "The good news? What's the bad news?"

She knows, even before she opens the folder. It only takes a moment to scan the first page, to thrust it back at Daniel. "I'm not a fucking babysitter!"

Daniel blinks, but doesn't take the folder back. "It's not an option, Darcy. You've seen the way things are out there. Tony's got plans for the city. He wants to rebuild it, bring people back." He speaks Stark's first name awkwardly, puffing his chest up as he does. "You take this job or you're out."

Tears are pricking at the back of Darcy's eyes. She wills them back. "Maybe I should talk to Jane." She takes a step towards the door.

Daniel grasps her arm, in the same place Loki had grabbed her in the dream. Daniel's fingers press harder. "You don't have clearance to go there."

He shoves the folder into her hands, then strides away, making a show of swiping his pass and going through the door. He doesn't look back.

Darcy stands alone in the foyer, coffee forgotten, the folder lax in her hands. She can feel pressure between her shoulderblades, as though someone is standing behind her, watching her.

"I'm not doing it," she says.

She lets the folder drop, papers spilling over the floor. Let Daniel come back and deal with it. She buttons up her coat again, shoves her headphones in her ears and heads out of the tower, back onto the empty streets.

The Blood-Dimmed Tide

A Marvel Movieverse Story
by ofravenwings

Part 2 of 33

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