awritinglilypea (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
awritinglilypea) wrote2012-10-13 07:22 pm
awritinglilypea) wrote2012-10-13 07:22 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: Thin Pink Line 1/? (Rated PG, Clint/Darcy)
Title: Thin Pink Line
Fandom: The Avengers
Pairing: Clint Barton/Darcy Lewis
Rating: PG
Complete: No
Genre: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort
Summary: Darcy decides to pull her socks up and get to business and Clint is concerned over his girlfriend's behaviour.
Warnings: Contains talk of assault in later chapters, as well as child abuse.
Notes:Dedicated again, to my best friend who let me pick her pregnancy brain and let me know, that yes there are things I can gloss over. I love you chicky.
And also, ibonekoen who helped me start this fic in another way, who is basically my co-writer and who is just plain awesome.
Previous Chapters">
Darcy sat on her couch for a while, curling in on herself she rested her chin on her knee, one hand pressed gently to her lower abdomen. She couldn't believe this was happening, couldn't believe that she was going to be someone's mother.
It wasn't like she had never planned on having children, because hey, she did like babies. They were pretty cute, with their little hands and feet and big eyes.
She liked her cousins, they were cute, and chubby, and they loved her, unconditionally because she was willing to cuddle.
The thought of being loved unconditionally made her breathless, and she knew then that no matter what her baby did she would love him or her forever.
She couldn't imagine doing what her mother had done, placing conditions on love like it was something to be traded and bought.
She was not going to be that type of mother.
She was going to start this off right, she thought to herself as she got up and grabbed her bag, slinging it over her shoulder she rushed out of the room and hurried to the elevator, hardly stopping for a moment until she was outside the clinic where her old Doctor worked.
She marched in, resolve all over her face.
When she walked back out, an hour or so later her steps were slightly less determined, and her shoulders were a bit slouched, an envelope of papers and information clutched in one hand, a prescription for prenatal vitamins shoved into her purse.
Darcy Lewis was going to be a mother.
The baby's father was Clint “Hawkeye” Barton.
And it's aunt and uncles were the fucking Avengers.
She supposed a child could have a worse life, and despite her fear she couldn't help but be bolstered by the thought that no matter what ever happened to her her child would be protected.
Walking a little further down the street Darcy paused in front of Old Navy, and hesitated before sauntering in, glancing around before she did so she didn't notice her boyfriend watching her from across the street, a bag of Chinese food in hand and concern all over his face.
~
Darcy walked back into her suite, putting the bags down she sank back down on the couch, opening the envelope with all the information in it she took a deep breath as she opened it, and within seconds was bolting to the bathroom, one hand clamped over her mouth.
When she had finished losing her lunch, dinner, and about every meal she had eaten for the past week she slumped to the floor of the bathroom.
She knew it wasn't morning sickness, not yet, and knew it had a lot to do with anxiety but suddenly she wanted Clint there, with her and knowing so much it actually pushed her to tears.
Hugging herself Darcy allowed herself a few moments of self pity, and was not surprised to feel that she was being watched. When she lifted her head to find Clint in the doorway she managed to muster a small, tremulous smile.
Clint sighed and grabbed a cloth, wetting it he wiped her mouth gently, then folded it delicately in half and swiped it along her cheeks, brushing away her tears. “Darcy,” he muttered her name, looking into her eyes. “You're scaring the shit out of me, and not a lot-”
“Scares the shit out of you, I know,” Darcy sighed softly. “Just let me brush my teeth okay?” She accepted his help up and leaned against the sink a bit, refusing to look at her own reflection or the concerned look on his face.
Clint lingered awkwardly in the doorway for a minute, watching her, brows furrowed. “I bought Chinese, lemon chicken, your favourite...”
Darcy smiled at him, wondering how much either of them would want to eat after they had this conversation but hoping for the best. She quickly brushed her teeth and joined him in the living room, perching on the couch next to him just in case she needed to escape.
Clint handed her chopsticks, and opened his own carton of food, digging in even as he watched her as surreptitiously as he could manage.
Picking at the food Darcy took a few bites, finding that the taste of toothpaste lingering in her mouth and the lemon flavour of the chicken was rough and not all that appetizing.
A few more minutes passed before Clint put his carton down with an audible noise, huffing out a sigh. “Are you going to tell me what's going on or what? Cause this,” he gestured between the two of them, “is not fun.”
“Fun?” Darcy asked, unable to help the laugh that left her mouth, edging in on hysteria. “Oh you don't know how much fun we're going to be having soon.” She grabbed the test results off the table and tossed them at him, standing up she didn't understand her anger other than that it was spurned on by panic.
Clint caught the paper, keeping it from falling onto the floor he unfolded it, staring at the paper in a seemingly confused way. “Darcy,” his voice was rough.
“You're the only one I've slept with since the first time,” Darcy spat, defensive before he could even begin to accuse her.
“Jesus, Darce, I wasn't even going to say that,” Clint shook his head, stunned. “We're pregnant,” he muttered, looking at the paper.
“Yes, I am pregnant,” Darcy replied, wrapping her arms around herself. “And I am not getting an abortion or putting the baby up for adoption so don't even think those things.”
“What the hell have you been secretly thinking about me all this time?” Clint snapped, waving the papers in the air as he stood up, not surprised when she rose shortly after him.
“I don't know, what am I supposed to think?” Darcy asked him, crossing her arms over her chest. “You're not exactly the most open of people.”
“I work as a professional spy and assassin, Darcy,” Clint finally dropped the paper on the table, sighing. “I am shocked, yes, but I would never...would never ask you to do either of those things.”
Darcy nodded, letting out a soft sigh. “I know, I know, I'm sorry, it's just...I killed my goldfish, Clint.”
Clint laughed, the sound a bit on edge but he nodded his head. “Yes, yes you did. But in your defence...I'm not entirely sure it was that healthy to begin with.”
Darcy hummed in agreement, touching her stomach lightly she rubbed a little bit, almost wishing she could feel little him or her already because it would make this seem a little less surreal.
Clint grasped her wrist when he could and pulled her in close, his lips ghosting across her temple as he kissed her, wrapping his arms around her and keeping her close. “We're gonna be okay,” he told her, bobbing his head in a quick nod. “You, the kid and me, it's us against the world.”
“And its Avengers,” Darcy mumbled into his shoulder.
“So, you found yourself a doctor, you've got your vitamins right?” He waited for her nod. “We need to get some food into you, because you threw up and then we'll move my stuff in here since you've got the second bedroom. I'll stay in there if you want me to.”
“I didn't agree to you moving in here,” Darcy told him, laughing softly, “even though you've been living here for about the last three months.”
“Yeah,” Clint drew the word out as long as he could. “I've pretty much only got my bow left in my room, and it's not even my good one. There might also be a box of socks.”
Darcy smiled into his neck as she adjusted her stance, one arm across his shoulders. “I knew it.”
“Not surprised, you're pretty fucking smart girl,” Clint kissed her cheek. “We'll be okay.”
Nodding Darcy tried to believe that, but she just wasn't that sure.
Fandom: The Avengers
Pairing: Clint Barton/Darcy Lewis
Rating: PG
Complete: No
Genre: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort
Summary: Darcy decides to pull her socks up and get to business and Clint is concerned over his girlfriend's behaviour.
Warnings: Contains talk of assault in later chapters, as well as child abuse.
Notes:Dedicated again, to my best friend who let me pick her pregnancy brain and let me know, that yes there are things I can gloss over. I love you chicky.
And also, ibonekoen who helped me start this fic in another way, who is basically my co-writer and who is just plain awesome.
Previous Chapters">
Darcy sat on her couch for a while, curling in on herself she rested her chin on her knee, one hand pressed gently to her lower abdomen. She couldn't believe this was happening, couldn't believe that she was going to be someone's mother.
It wasn't like she had never planned on having children, because hey, she did like babies. They were pretty cute, with their little hands and feet and big eyes.
She liked her cousins, they were cute, and chubby, and they loved her, unconditionally because she was willing to cuddle.
The thought of being loved unconditionally made her breathless, and she knew then that no matter what her baby did she would love him or her forever.
She couldn't imagine doing what her mother had done, placing conditions on love like it was something to be traded and bought.
She was not going to be that type of mother.
She was going to start this off right, she thought to herself as she got up and grabbed her bag, slinging it over her shoulder she rushed out of the room and hurried to the elevator, hardly stopping for a moment until she was outside the clinic where her old Doctor worked.
She marched in, resolve all over her face.
When she walked back out, an hour or so later her steps were slightly less determined, and her shoulders were a bit slouched, an envelope of papers and information clutched in one hand, a prescription for prenatal vitamins shoved into her purse.
Darcy Lewis was going to be a mother.
The baby's father was Clint “Hawkeye” Barton.
And it's aunt and uncles were the fucking Avengers.
She supposed a child could have a worse life, and despite her fear she couldn't help but be bolstered by the thought that no matter what ever happened to her her child would be protected.
Walking a little further down the street Darcy paused in front of Old Navy, and hesitated before sauntering in, glancing around before she did so she didn't notice her boyfriend watching her from across the street, a bag of Chinese food in hand and concern all over his face.
~
Darcy walked back into her suite, putting the bags down she sank back down on the couch, opening the envelope with all the information in it she took a deep breath as she opened it, and within seconds was bolting to the bathroom, one hand clamped over her mouth.
When she had finished losing her lunch, dinner, and about every meal she had eaten for the past week she slumped to the floor of the bathroom.
She knew it wasn't morning sickness, not yet, and knew it had a lot to do with anxiety but suddenly she wanted Clint there, with her and knowing so much it actually pushed her to tears.
Hugging herself Darcy allowed herself a few moments of self pity, and was not surprised to feel that she was being watched. When she lifted her head to find Clint in the doorway she managed to muster a small, tremulous smile.
Clint sighed and grabbed a cloth, wetting it he wiped her mouth gently, then folded it delicately in half and swiped it along her cheeks, brushing away her tears. “Darcy,” he muttered her name, looking into her eyes. “You're scaring the shit out of me, and not a lot-”
“Scares the shit out of you, I know,” Darcy sighed softly. “Just let me brush my teeth okay?” She accepted his help up and leaned against the sink a bit, refusing to look at her own reflection or the concerned look on his face.
Clint lingered awkwardly in the doorway for a minute, watching her, brows furrowed. “I bought Chinese, lemon chicken, your favourite...”
Darcy smiled at him, wondering how much either of them would want to eat after they had this conversation but hoping for the best. She quickly brushed her teeth and joined him in the living room, perching on the couch next to him just in case she needed to escape.
Clint handed her chopsticks, and opened his own carton of food, digging in even as he watched her as surreptitiously as he could manage.
Picking at the food Darcy took a few bites, finding that the taste of toothpaste lingering in her mouth and the lemon flavour of the chicken was rough and not all that appetizing.
A few more minutes passed before Clint put his carton down with an audible noise, huffing out a sigh. “Are you going to tell me what's going on or what? Cause this,” he gestured between the two of them, “is not fun.”
“Fun?” Darcy asked, unable to help the laugh that left her mouth, edging in on hysteria. “Oh you don't know how much fun we're going to be having soon.” She grabbed the test results off the table and tossed them at him, standing up she didn't understand her anger other than that it was spurned on by panic.
Clint caught the paper, keeping it from falling onto the floor he unfolded it, staring at the paper in a seemingly confused way. “Darcy,” his voice was rough.
“You're the only one I've slept with since the first time,” Darcy spat, defensive before he could even begin to accuse her.
“Jesus, Darce, I wasn't even going to say that,” Clint shook his head, stunned. “We're pregnant,” he muttered, looking at the paper.
“Yes, I am pregnant,” Darcy replied, wrapping her arms around herself. “And I am not getting an abortion or putting the baby up for adoption so don't even think those things.”
“What the hell have you been secretly thinking about me all this time?” Clint snapped, waving the papers in the air as he stood up, not surprised when she rose shortly after him.
“I don't know, what am I supposed to think?” Darcy asked him, crossing her arms over her chest. “You're not exactly the most open of people.”
“I work as a professional spy and assassin, Darcy,” Clint finally dropped the paper on the table, sighing. “I am shocked, yes, but I would never...would never ask you to do either of those things.”
Darcy nodded, letting out a soft sigh. “I know, I know, I'm sorry, it's just...I killed my goldfish, Clint.”
Clint laughed, the sound a bit on edge but he nodded his head. “Yes, yes you did. But in your defence...I'm not entirely sure it was that healthy to begin with.”
Darcy hummed in agreement, touching her stomach lightly she rubbed a little bit, almost wishing she could feel little him or her already because it would make this seem a little less surreal.
Clint grasped her wrist when he could and pulled her in close, his lips ghosting across her temple as he kissed her, wrapping his arms around her and keeping her close. “We're gonna be okay,” he told her, bobbing his head in a quick nod. “You, the kid and me, it's us against the world.”
“And its Avengers,” Darcy mumbled into his shoulder.
“So, you found yourself a doctor, you've got your vitamins right?” He waited for her nod. “We need to get some food into you, because you threw up and then we'll move my stuff in here since you've got the second bedroom. I'll stay in there if you want me to.”
“I didn't agree to you moving in here,” Darcy told him, laughing softly, “even though you've been living here for about the last three months.”
“Yeah,” Clint drew the word out as long as he could. “I've pretty much only got my bow left in my room, and it's not even my good one. There might also be a box of socks.”
Darcy smiled into his neck as she adjusted her stance, one arm across his shoulders. “I knew it.”
“Not surprised, you're pretty fucking smart girl,” Clint kissed her cheek. “We'll be okay.”
Nodding Darcy tried to believe that, but she just wasn't that sure.