Darcy’s eyes fluttered open, scanning a blank white room. A machine beeped rhythmically beside her. God, her head ached so bad, but the pain was beginning to cease compared to the splitting agony she found herself in earlier. She slowly sat up in the hospital bed, looking down at the I.V. in her arm. As her vision came into clearer focus, Darcy realized she was still at SHIELD headquarters, in their medical ward. Slowly, she remembered how she collapsed in Director Fury’s office, how blood began to pour from her nose as the pressure in her head mounted. She remembered how all she could remember was Loki’s words crushing her mind like a vice. Darcy flinched as she remembered it.
“Well, this is one way out of doing paperwork,” She muttered, as she peeled back the cheap bed covers and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. She looked down at the hospital gown she was in, frowning as she realized the medical staff must have stripped her bloodied clothes away. She looked over to a bag labeled Contaminated to see her hoodie, shirt, jeans, and underclothes. “Great, SHIELD’s going to pull a velveteen rabbit on me because of a friggin’ nose bleed.” She sighed, searching around for that convenient little button that made the nurses come at her beck and call. Not like the nurses would bring her a daiquiri or something, but maybe some water.
She heard the door click open, and her eyes met the man who walked inside.
“I should really stop being surprised, shouldn’t I?” She said with a sigh as she looked over at Loki.
Getting into SHIELD was far easier then he had anticipated. Sporting a new ‘face’, he blended into the faculty with little issue - it held avoided areas that would have Thor, not willing to risk the possibility of the oak recognizing him even under disguise. Locating the room in which she was in, he waited until the coast was clear, and entered, glamour dropping as soon as he was in, the door shutting solidly behind him. Back taut, his eyes were so trained on her form in the bed, that he barely even blinked. Head turning to the side, his voice was devoid of the playfulness he usually greeted her in. “Yes, you should. Particularly considering your little stunt, which was not, at all, amusing to me.”
Hands folding behind his back, he regarded her with an almost frigid superiority, eyes flickering to her forehead, before drifting back down to the plains of her face. A ball of emotion was churning in his gut; anger, sadistic amusement, and smugness rolled into one, with little flickers of everything else, just for good measure. “Though,” He added, “It did work well in it’s own way - there was a sense of tangible fear and anxiety as I walked through the hall. That was mildly satisfying.”
She glared back at him when he regarded her as less than amusing. She looked down to her arm, peeling the tape back and pulling the needle from her arm. She winced as she did it, her breath drawing in sharply. Once free of the IV, she shot up and paced over to him, crossing her arms. “What about your little stunt, big guy? Oh, you mean which one? How about all of them. But let’s start with the one of them that included leaving me over a thousand miles from my house. I maxed out my credit card just get a plane ticket, and that was after I nearly got arrested for trying to push my way onto the plane while drunk off my heels. Oh, and this?” She waved her arm behind her, to the room.
“Yeah, you did something to my head, and now who knows what Fury’s going to do to me! Probably lock me up and scan my brain and pick away at it until there’s nothing left! Because that’s always what I wanted to choose from — being either someone’s pet or someone’s science project.” She sneered, rightfully angry at him. She turned away from him and moved back to her bed, sitting on the edge and slumping her shoulders. She was already out of breath and dizzy, probably from the anemia. She looked up at him through the hair that fell in her face, matching his glare, with her own.
"I am certain you are overreacting a small amount," He responded easily, taking her words in stride as usual; though the mental image of her nearly getting arrested was amusing, and idly he wished he’d stuck around long enough to see it. Perhaps another one. "I sincerely doubt you will become a lab-rat, Darcy. I may not like SHIELD, but they are not idiotic in that sense, nor barbaric. If anything, they would likely keep stricter surveillance on you, in an attempt to get to me." A shrug came as he eyed the instruments around the room, picking up an examining an empty needle briefly, before setting it back, fingers dragging along the white rail of her supplied bed.
Sitting at the edge of the bed, his eyes wandered over the bit of machines were was hooked up to - mainly IV’s, of course - his mouth twisting to the side some in thought. “The only thing I did to your head, was implement my hold on it. Though I am certain you gave them quite a scar, it was nothing that will cause permanent or lasting damage; the effects were instantaneous, and temporary. Furthermore, unless I had the intention of killing you, and you are aware that for the time being at least I do not, anything I do to you will be done within certain….limits. To assure that you are not hurt beyond recovery.”