Chapter Text
“Welcome home, Captain Rogers.”
Steve glance up at the ceiling of the elevator. “Thank you, Jarvis.”
He stifles a yawn, body sagging heavily against the wall of the elevator. His duffle bag falls heavy at his feet. It’s been nearly a year since he’s been in the Avenger’s Tower, and he wants nothing more than to head straight to the apartment Tony assigned him and collapse into bed. He’s bone tired, a year of working his way back and forth across the world with Sam at the faintest hint of Bucky’s trail has certainly gotten to him. Steve runs a tired hand down his face when the elevator reaches his floor. The doors slide open to reveal Tony standing with crossed arms.
“Rogers.”
Steve leans down to scoop his duffle bag up before stepping off the elevator. “Stark.”
“We need to talk.”
Steve sidesteps the shorter man, heading down the short hall to his apartment's door. “Can this wait?”
Tony follows him into the apartment, nearly throwing himself onto the couch. ”No.”
Steve glance past Tony, down the the hallway is a bed that costs more than he’s comfortable with and he just wants to sleep. He heaves a heavy sigh and sink into a chair across from the scientist. “Right, well, what’s this about then?’
“Darcy.”
Steve’s body tenses, mouth set in a firm line. “What?”
“I just think it’s best if you avoid her while you’re here. She didn’t take the break up too well, and I think it’s in everyone’s best interest if you two don’t interact.”
“I don’t think the world will end if we run into each other.”
Tony merely stares at him, brow creasing. He opens his mouth to speak then shuts it again. With a shake of his head he stands. “Just - just consider it, okay?” He makes his way towards the door. “Right, well, my work is done here. Night, Capsicle.”
The door clicks shut behind him, and Steve slumps further into his seat. God, he’s been avoiding thoughts of Darcy. But if he’s honest, he misses her. Hearing her laughter on the other end of the phone, her sighs when she’d pressed up against him in bed, the comfort of her presence. They’d had a rocky end, him preoccupied with Bucky and on the road, not giving their relationship the attention it deserved. With a heavy groan he pushes himself up from the chair and staggers on tired legs down the hall. He just needs to sleep.
He collapses onto the bed, not bothering to remove his shoes or crawl under the covers. He’s out nearly as soon as his head hits the pillow. Dreams a mix of chasing after Bucky and Darcy, always being a step behind.
[][][][][]
“Hey man,” Clint greets when Steve enters the common space the next morning. “Coffee?”
“Please.” He settles himself on a stool at the kitchen island. Watches at the archer opens a cabinet and pulls down a mug with a picture of the Hulk on it. He fills it nearly to the brim and slides it across the counter. Steve takes it gratefully. The coffee scalds his tongue. “How’ve you been?”
“Good, good.” Clint answers. He shifts restlessly from one foot to the other, eyes darting over Steve’s shoulder. “Look, as glad as I am that you’re back, I think maybe it’d be best if you weren’t here when Darcy arrives.”
“What could possibly be so bad about us seeing each other? Tony came to me last night to say the same thing.”
Clint’s gaze snaps back to Steve, frowning. “Did he tell you all of it?”
“All of what?”
“Well, shit. I’ll take that as a no then.” Clint glances once more over Steve’s shoulder before folding himself over the island top, elbows propping him up. “Look, she’s not going to know who you are.”
Steve straightens in his chair and levels a sharp look at Clint. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Clint opens his mouth to answer but cuts off abruptly when the elevator doors leading to the common space slide open. A look of panic flits across his features and he leans closer to Steve and hisses “Don’t say a thing.”
“Morning, Bird Brain,” a voice chirps behind him. Steve’s chest feels tight, heart beating a frantic pace against his rib cage. Time feels narrowed down to this moment, his body turning on it’s own volition. And there she is. Darcy striding forward with Jane behind her, the petite scientist’s face pale with shock. Steve pays her no mind, eyes on Darcy as she scoots around Clint to reach for the coffee pot. She pours the brown liquid into a thermos, is twisting on the black lid when she finally glances up and seems to notice him.
He braces himself for her reaction. Expects her to be upset to see him. But her gaze skips right over him and back to Clint. “Who’s your friend?”
Clint straightens up, gaze flicking between the two. “Uh. This is Steve. He’s been away for awhile.”
Jane stands beside him, hands twisting nervously before her. She won’t meet his gaze. Not that it matters. He can’t take his eyes off Darcy, who takes a sip of her coffee before turning towards him. She gives a polite smile, hand reaching over the counter. “Hi. I’m Darcy.”
His hand slips around hers without thought, giving a brief shake before she pulls away. His hand hovers there, empty and tingling where she’s touched him. She doesn’t seem to notice, already turned towards Clint and speaking about something Steve can’t quite make out. The roar of blood in his ears a deafening sound. He wants to say something. Wants to ask what game she’s playing at. But she’s turning away, linking arms with Jane and making her way toward the elevator.
He watches her retreating back. The familiar cascade of brown hair, hips swinging the way they always have. He watches as she and Jane enter the elevator, Darcy’s gaze swinging shyly towards his. Just the briefest glance, her cheeks tingeing pink and then the doors are closing.
He’s pulled from his stupor when Clint collapses onto a kitchen stool beside him. He turns to the other man with a glare. “What was that?”
“I told you, man, she doesn’t remember you.” He sighs. “Fuck. Look, I wish there was a better way to say this, but Darcy doesn’t know who you are anymore, okay? She had you erased.”
“What do you mean erased?”
“Erased, erased,” Clint answers. “She had the procedure done a couple months ago. Tony has all the paperwork in his shop. We - we couldn’t bear to throw it away.”
[][][][][]
Tony hands him a cream colored card, the paper worn and creased down the middle. “We researched it,” he says, sitting down heavily on a stool as Dummy wheels past. “Me, Bruce, Nat. Hell, we all looked into it. Jane most of all.”
Steve reads the card twice, and it’s a punch to the gut. His hands shake. This can’t possibly be real.
Dear Mr. Stark
Darcy Lewis has had Steve Rogers erased from her memory. Please never mention their relationship to her again.
Thank you.
“When?” He croaks. The card falls onto the stainless steel table separating him from Tony.
“What?”
“When did she do it?”
“Four months ago, at the beginning of August.”
Steve’s head snaps up to look at Tony, the color draining from his face. “Oh,” he breathes. His whole body feels numb, and he sink into a chair that Dummy slides over. He remembers giving in to his loneliness, calling Darcy late at night from a hotel in Paris. Her breath hitching over the phone as she told him it hurt to hear his voice, to please not call her again. “Oh.”
“Look,” Tony sighs, reaching forward to snag the Lacuna Inc. card from the table, slipping it back into a manila folder. “We tried talking her out of it, but you know Darcy. How stubborn she is. Once she got it in her head to do this there was really nothing we could say.”
Steve shakes his head, still in disbelief. “How? What was the procedure like?”
“They had her gather up a bunch of her things - things that reminded her of you. They got rid of them for her. And they had her go in before, recorded her talking about your relationship. They used it to map her brain, figure out where they needed to target for the memory wipe.” Tony pauses, shifting the folder back and forth across the table top. “They came at night. She took a pill to help her sleep and in the next morning you were simply gone.”
It couldn’t have been that easy. One day there and the next gone. Steve can’t seem to shake himself free from the disbelief that has snaked it’s way through his body. “Is it reversible?”
Tony shakes his head. “No. But even if it was, this is what Darcy wanted.”
He can’t breathe. He feels young again, like he did before the war. Weak. Hopeless. God, this is really happening. He stands abruptly, the chair clattering onto it’s side behind him. He can’t stand to be in this room. The walls feel like they're closing in, the air thinning. “I have to go,” he mutters, staggering from the lab and down a glass lined hallway. The elevator seems miles away.
It feels like years when he finally reaches it, pressing incessantly against the call button. When the doors slide open he’s met with Darcy. Her head is bent, fingers flying across the keypad of her phone. It takes her a moment to realize there’s someone before her. She glances up at him, a soft smile on her face.
“Steve, right?”