Chapter Text
Darcy Lewis stands on the curb in front of Stark Tower with no small amount of trepidation, neck craned and free hand shielding her eyes as she takes in floor after floor of windows. It seemed impossibly large, extravagant. But then, she supposes, that describes what she's heard of its owner in the tabloids rather well.
She's rather hoping the picture everyone paints of the man isn't true. She's hoping the things her mother has told her about him, she hopes that's the man she meets today. Though, she supposes, he is one of the richest, most famous people in the world. He must have his share of strange kids showing up, claiming to be his. Darcy nibbles her lip nervously, considering just turning around and heading back to her hotel. She's got enough money saved up for another week or so. She could find a job. She could provide for the baby girl sleeping soundly in the car seat hanging from the crook of her elbow. She didn't have to meet the man who never wanted to meet her.
But...
Darcy's hand falls, fingers touching the filigree heart hanging around her neck.
But her daughter is already going to grow up without one grandparent. Whatever she might think about the man, she wants her daughter to know her family.
So, with a steadying sigh, she sets her shoulders, tosses her curls over her shoulder, and heads into the glaring building.
And if she thought the outside was extravagant, it's nothing compared to the inside.
The floor is black and white marble, the walls and very high ceiling are pristine, and the receptionist desk has an entire fountain wall behind it.
"Well, Evie...we're not in Kansas anymore," she murmurs under her breath. Her sleeping daughter doesn't respond.
Darcy heads for the receptionist desk and gives the woman sitting there a polite smile. "Hi, um...I need to speak with Tony Stark, please."
The slip of a woman offers a smile of her own. "Do you have an appointment, ma'am?"
Darcy pauses. She hadn't even thought about it, and her features color. "Um, no."
The woman's smile doesn't waver. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark is unavailable at this time to anyone without an appointment."
Darcy hesitates and then reaches to sit Evie's carseat on the floor a moment. "Could you, uh...could you tell him Rose Lewis' daughter is here," she asks, undoing the clasp of her necklace. It slips down her chest and she plucks it from her shirt front and offers it to the receptionist. "And show him this, please. If he doesn't wanna see me, I'll go without a problem, I promise."
The woman seems to hesitate, and Darcy doesn't know what the woman sees in her eyes, but she nods and reaches to take the necklace. Darcy reluctant to even let it out of her sight -the necklace had been given to her mother by her father when he'd promised they would be together forever, and her mother had been wearing it when she died- but she's willing to. Just this once.
The receptionist disappears and Darcy settles in one of the low slung, obviously expensive chairs to wait. She's been sitting there almost five minutes when Evie wakes up, so she steps into the bathroom to change the girl's diaper and plans to feed her when she gets back to her seat. However, when she exits the bathroom, the receptionist is waiting for her with a smile and asks Darcy to follow her.
She leads Darcy to a set of elevators and they take them up to one of the top floors. They step out of the car when the doors open, and the woman leads her past the receptionist desk to knock on the double doors. She opens it a crack, murmurs something, and then opens the door further, stepping back to allow Darcy to step inside.
Inside is a large office, decorated sparsely, but beautifully. Tony Stark sits perched on the edge of the mahogany desk, arms crossed over his chest. He looks different than she's seen in magazines. There's a stained, faded ACDC shirt stretched across his chest, and his jeans have the look of well-use. It surprises her more than a little.
But what really gets her are his features. She's seen pictures, of course, but here, in person, she finds pieces of herself, of her daughter, in his face. It kind of makes her want to cry.
Before she can say anything, Tony speaks first. "So...my kid, huh?" A rueful not-quite smile stretches his mouth. "Boy, if I had a nickel."
Darcy's hackles rise, but she holds her ground, nods. "I know I'm not the first one to show up, claiming the same thing. I don't even know for sure, honestly, but...mom never lied. Never. I don't know why she'd make something like...this...up."
"Who knows why anyone does anything, kid. I only knew the woman for a weekend."
Darcy's glad that motherhood has taught her a little patience. Her old self would've told him to fuck off and walked out already. Her old self wouldn't have come at all.
"Look, Mr. Stark, I'm not here looking for money or fame. In fact, if it wasn't for my daughter, I wouldn't be here at all. But I want her to know her grandfather."
Tony pauses, flicks his gaze over her a moment, before he scoffs, shakes his head. "Nice touch, by the way. The kid. Everybody melts at the sight of a cute baby, right? Lower the guards."
"That's enough," she snaps, anger coursing through her.
"You know what? Let's take care of this right now." He stands from his leaned position, plucks something that looks a little like a cell phone from the desk. He taps the screen a few times, presses his thumb in the center, and then offers it to her. "Just put your thumb in the middle."
Darcy does, shifting her daughter in her arms. The screen flashes, the device beeps, and then 100% flashes across the screen. Darcy has no idea what that means. Tony's reaction tells her all she needs to know. He grimaces, glances at her, mutters, "Shit," as he rubs his palm across his face. It was like all her childhood nightmares were coming true. Finally meeting her father, and he wasn't proud of what he saw. She wants to push him out the window of his eyesore of a building.
"What? You thought I was lying?"
"More like hoped," Tony grumbles, and it's like a slap across the face.
"Well, don't worry," she says, voice clipped, kneeling to start strapping her daughter in her car seat, "We'll be out of your hair soon."
"Hey, hey, now what exactly was I supposed to think? For all I knew, you picked this up in a pawn shop." He's holding the necklace. Darcy wants to growl when she sees it in his hands.
"Right. Cuz I just happened to know what kind of necklace you gave a girl you hooked up with twenty years ago." She stands, snatches the necklace from his fingers. "Or do you have a collection of them? Just something you pull out to get a girl in bed? Just a prop, just like promising them the world, all designed to get you laid and out with as little effort as possible."
"I don't promise 'em anything, kid. They climb in all of their own volition, including your mother." Darcy wants to snarl. "Besides, I'm sure she wasted no time moving on. She had just broken up with that guy when we met. I've known enough girls that jump from man to man to know one when I-," Tony starts, and Darcy's hand cracks across his cheek. Evie gives an uncertain little cry from her seat.
"You can think or say whatever you like about me, but don't you dare say anything like that about my mother. She died in a hospital room still waiting for you."
He looks stricken and it honestly surprises her. He'd never cared about them before.
Darcy stuffs the necklace into her pocket and picks up her daughter's seat, settling the handle into the crook of her arm, and her voice is cool, clipped, when she says, "Forgive us for taking up so much of your time, Mr. Stark." She turns, heads out of the doors, calls, "Good day," over her shoulder, and she thinks she hears him sigh as the double doors close.
Darcy makes it further than she thought she would before bursting into tears. She walks across the room, ignoring the eyes on her, and punches the button for the elevator, stands and waits for the car with her chin wobbling and behind her eyes burning.
When the doors open, she steps inside, and the doors barely close fully before she's sagging back against the wall, dissolving into tears.
She should've listened to her instincts. She should've stayed right where she was.
She's shocked by the car pausing and the doors opening to male voices. Darcy sniffs and quickly rubs at her eyes, head bowed as she shifts over to one side of the car so the two men who step on can have the other side. The two men speak in murmured voices and Darcy concentrates on the floor buttons.
Suddenly, there's a tentative clearing of a throat and a, "Miss? Are you okay?"
Her chin wobbles once more, the urge to blurt her entire sad story strong within her, but instead, she draws the most upbeat smile to her face that she can, and turns it on the two.
"Yep," she pops cheerfully. "Those sob stories on Facebook always get me."
There's something familiar about the two men looking at her, and she suddenly realizes who's in the elevator with her.
Captain America doesn't look like he's buying what she's selling, and she can't tell what the Winter Soldier is thinking at all, features impassive.
"Are you sure? Is there...anyone we can call?"
"No, I'm fine, really." She's saved by the arrival of their car on the ground floor, and Darcy shoots them another cheerful smile as she moves before the doors even finish opening. "Have a lovely day," she trills over her shoulder.
Thankfully, no one chases her out onto the sidewalk and she catches a cab and is on her way back to her hotel before the hour is out.
There, she feeds Evie, orders out for dinner, and starts looking for a job on her phone. She puts in a few apps before her pizza arrives, and manages to spend the rest of the evening not thinking about her father.
When she turns off the lights, however, and settles beneath the unfamiliar blankets, it's all she can think about. She holds her sleeping daughter and sobs as quietly as she can. When she finally falls asleep, it's with her nose in Evie's baby-fine hair, and dreams of her mother's arms around her.