In A Universe Where Everyone Is Born With Numbers On Their Wrists Counting Down To When They’ll Meet Their Soulmate, Send Me 00:00:00 For My Muses Reaction To Their Numbers Hitting Zero When They Meet Yours.
No one had ever been able to explain why Darcy’s timer was stuck on 1 minutes 12 seconds, but it was and had been since she was twelve. Her mother, panicking, had dragged her to doctors and specialists for years and none of them had an answer. It just was what it was.
Darcy herself was loathe to think about the implications or voice the fears it meant she was never going to find love. Thinking about it would probably just make it true, so she ignored it, learnt to cover her wrist up to avoid the questions, and got on with her life.
She went to school, got in to college, found her way to New Mexico and first contact with Asgard. Life was full and seriously interesting, even if she lacked the simple waiting that everyone else always seemed so full of.
Meeting Thor and working with Jane ended up landing her in with SHIELD, which was equal parts terrifying and awesome. The terrifying definitely picked up when wannabe-villain of the week decided the best way to make his mark was to go on a murder spree in the agency’s lobby. And of course, Darcy had the supreme luck of being there at the time. She watched him aim and shoot at her as though it was slow motion, the pain tearing through her chest. As she went down she heard more shots, and right before her vision went black badguy fell.
Typical was the last thought she had.
When she woke up the noise rushed in. There was so much pain, so many people moving and talking, beeps and pokes and too bright lights. Her head rolled and lighted on the door, and another beep cut through everything. The woman standing in the doorway, watching, scowling, looking between her wrist and the bed.
Darcy managed to lift her arm, just enough to see her own wrist. All zeroes.
“Typical”, she murmured, before blacking out again.
When she came to again the lights were still too bright but the rush of noise and activity had been replaced by stillness and the steady beep of the heart monitor. She’d lived. That was a shock.
The memories came back in bits and pieces and with a yelp Darcy brought her wrist up to her face. Zeroes. They were definitely zeroes. And there’d been a woman, looking at her wrist…
Like she’d summoned her just by thinking about it, a throat cleared from the doorway. Her.
Struggling to sit up, even as it caused shots of pain to run through her, Darcy tried to speak, but her throat was too dry.
“Don’t try and talk.” Moving towards her, the woman poured out a cup of water and pressed it in to her hand. “Drink. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”
Sipping slowly, Darcy raised an eyebrow, demanding answers as best she could given the circumstances.
“I’m Deputy Director Maria Hill. You were shot, in the line of duty, at headquarters in New York. Do you remember any of this?”
Rolling her eyes Darcy made a face. Of course she remembered. She put the water down so she could tap at the digits in her wrist, holding it out.
Sighing, Maria tucked her own sleeve up. “Wasn’t sure if you’d remember that. You’d flatlined, another few seconds and they were going to pronounce you. But then your timer started ticking. That’s why they called me in. It’s an unheard of situation, someone’s timer kicking in at death. Convinced them you weren’t past saving though.”
It took a minute to take that in and Darcy went back to her water, shooting glances at Maria every few seconds.
“I’m glad, though”, Maria interrupted the silence, voice softer than usual. She hesitated for a second, then reached out and took one of Darcy’s hands in her own, offering a small smile. “Darcy.”
Licking at her lips, Darcy tried to smile back, before croaking back, “Maria. Typical.”
The debriefing could wait. Sitting in silence, the pair just absorbed the changes their lives were about to go through.