Chapter 65 : Unknown Futures – Curiosity and Courage
New York, Manhattan, ESU – Alex's POV
I slid into my seat as the classroom began to fill, the usual stir of students replaced by my own quiet focus. For the first time since Monday morning, I had a moment to think, uninterrupted.
Darcy's presence lingered in my mind, more than the memory of her flustered reactions or her bright energy. It was Jane Foster—the woman she worked for—that made my thoughts sharpen. Questions that had been dormant, or at least safely abstract, began to press against the edges of my consciousness.
Sitting at my desk, I let my mind run through what I knew—or thought I knew—about Jane Foster. Comics Jane: the astrophysicist turned Mighty Thor, chosen by Mjolnir for her worthiness, balancing the weight of godly power with her own mortal limitations, often romantically entwined with Thor, facing cosmic threats, banishments, and heroic decisions. MCU Jane: brilliant, yes, but framed mostly as a human anchor for Thor's story, later taking up Mjolnir in Love and Thunder, gaining the powers of Thor through a magical promise rather than pure worthiness, her role dramatic, symbolically heroic, but temporally limited. In both versions, she eventually becomes something more than human, caught between mortality and cosmic responsibility.
But the Jane Foster I was thinking about now—the one Darcy worked for—was still untouched by destiny. No hammer, no powers, no godly battles. She was simply a scientist, brilliant or not, with a future yet unwritten. Comics arcs, MCU plots, heroic transformations… none of that had happened yet. What lay ahead for her was unknown, a thread waiting to be spun in this new era of emerging heroes.
Which path would she follow? Would she rise to something extraordinary, shaped by forces and choices beyond ordinary comprehension, or remain firmly grounded in the mortal world, her story quieter, more subtle? And if Jane's future was a question mark, that immediately pulled Thor into focus.
Thor himself existed in multiple forms I could consider. Comics Thor: the god of thunder, bound by duty to Asgard and Midgard, occasionally stripped of his power as Donald Blake, sometimes romantically entangled with Jane, regaining divinity only through long, turbulent arcs. MCU Thor: exiled to Earth, humanized, funny and impulsive, a hero shaped by narrative beats and emotional drama, later sharing a fleeting, magical connection with Jane as Mighty Thor in Love and Thunder. Each version carried its own weight, its own rules, its own trajectory.
Darcy's cheerful instinct for chaos suddenly seemed more significant. Even her small, irrepressible energy could be a thread connecting to stories far beyond our classroom, to people yet untouched by fate but standing on the edge of extraordinary choices. I allowed myself the smallest fraction of a smile—the one that came when planning starts before the storm hits, when the unknown begins to outline itself in possibilities.
I shook my head lightly, letting the swirling possibilities fade into the background. For now, Darcy was the closest link to any answers about Jane, but patience was part of the game. I'd learn what I needed in time, piece by piece, without forcing it. For now, I'd observe, ask when appropriate, and let the chaos reveal itself on its own terms.
Turning my attention back to the present, I allowed the current to flow through the rhythm of the day. Lectures passed in a blur of notes and half-formed thoughts, my mind juggling calculus problems, historical analysis, and the occasional mental check-in on the city's undercurrents. Hours slipped by faster than expected, the cadence of campus life moving around me.
By the time the final class ended, I was already at the edge of my attention, scanning the exit for Gwen. Sure enough, she was there, leaning casually against the building with that faint, early‑evening glow catching her hair. Her eyes found mine almost instantly, and a small smile curved her lips, just enough to tell me she'd been waiting.
I adjusted my backpack and stepped out into the air, the weight of the day settling behind me as the weekend's calmness clung faintly to my mood. Gwen straightened, brushing a strand of hair from her face, and I could tell she had something to say—or maybe she just liked the quiet satisfaction of seeing me.
"Hey," she said, falling into step beside me. "How were your classes?"
"Interesting," I replied, letting my eyes scan the campus briefly. "Fast-paced. Productive in that quiet, structured way." I gave a small shrug. "And you?"
She smirked, the familiar mix of amusement and warmth in her expression. "Mostly lectures and lab work. Nothing as… strategic as your day, I imagine."
"Far from it," I said, letting a faint grin slip. "But enough about the mundane. How did you find your morning?"
"Relaxing, actually," she admitted, glancing up at the sky. "I mean, walking here with you, seeing Darcy and MJ earlier—it's a weird mix, chaotic but… refreshing. Beats rushing through crowded streets any day. Helps me reset for the week."
I nodded, letting the memory of our little quad encounter linger. Darcy had been… intense, eager, and unwittingly perceptive. MJ, as usual, was a mix of teasing and straight‑forward commentary. The exchange had been lively, but underneath it, threads of strategy and observation had caught my attention.
"She's… something else," I began slowly, glancing at Gwen as we walked. "After we split from the group, Darcy—she actually asked me, straight up, about what you said. About sharing me… she wanted to know if you were serious."
Gwen's eyes widened just slightly, a mixture of amusement and curiosity. "She actually asked that? That's… bold."
I smirked faintly. "Bold, flustered, panicked, all at once. It was… interesting to watch. And I'd say she's genuinely curious, not just teasing."
Gwen laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I can imagine. Poor thing. So, what did you tell her?"
"I laid out her options," I said, shrugging. "Café after class, or go straight to MJ. And I left her with a little… encouragement to figure it out for herself." My tone carried a hint of teasing, but tempered by observation. "I wanted to see how she handles the curiosity versus the courage part."
I paused for a moment, glancing at Gwen. "What do you think of her? Darcy, I mean. She's… perceptive, curious, maybe more than she realizes."
Gwen's grin returned, sly and confident, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Honestly? I think she could be… fun to have around. Add a little more… complexity to our little arrangement."
I raised an eyebrow, letting a faint smirk slip. "Complexity, huh? You mean… you'd like her to… join?"
Gwen nodded, leaning in slightly, frank and unapologetic. "Exactly. I didn't stop teasing her or giving her little hints for no reason. She's smart, sharp, and curious… I think she could find her place with us. With you."
I let that settle in, thoughtful but amused. "So… you're fully on board with testing her interest?"
"Absolutely," Gwen said, looping her arm with mine briefly as we continued down the sidewalk. "If she's willing to explore, I'm not going to hold back. Life's more interesting with more minds, and more hands, involved."
I allowed a small, satisfied smile to slip. "Good. Then it's settled. Let's go to the café."
We walked into the campus café, the familiar aroma of coffee and baked goods settling around us. I placed our orders—my usual black coffee, Gwen's chai latte—and we found a small table by the window. For a few minutes, we let conversation drift, light and meandering, talking about classes, campus news, and small anecdotes from the morning. The world felt quiet and contained here, a bubble away from the questions swirling in my mind.
Then my eyes caught movement outside the window. Darcy. Her hands fidgeted with the straps of her backpack, then tugged at the drawstrings of her hoodie. She took a step forward, hesitated, then stepped back. Her eyes darted around, scanning the street, the café, anywhere but committing.
"She looks… stressed," Gwen murmured, following my gaze.
"Stressed is an understatement," I replied, taking note of the tense set of her shoulders, the way her fingers clenched and unclenched, her body a taut coil of nerves. She rocked slightly on her heels, like a rabbit sizing up a predator—or a challenge she wasn't sure she could face.
Gwen tilted her head, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Do you think she'll actually come in?"
I smirked faintly, eyes still on Darcy. "Hard to say. She might bolt. Or maybe she'll wait long enough for one of us to coax her inside."
Gwen chuckled softly. "Or she could just freeze there forever, glaring at the door like it's a monster."
I shrugged, letting my gaze track her hesitation. "Either way, this is going to be… interesting."
For several moments, we watched her, weighing the possibilities: would she take a deep breath and step inside, heart pounding but determined? Would she linger, caught between curiosity and panic, refusing to commit? Or would she turn and flee, vanishing into the crowd like a startled animal?
I took a sip of my coffee, Gwen's hand brushing against mine briefly. "Guess we'll find out soon enough."
After what felt like an eternity of pacing and fidgeting outside, Darcy finally summoned the courage to step through the café door. I noticed immediately how every movement was careful, tentative, as if the threshold itself were a challenge she wasn't sure she could overcome.
Her eyes scanned the room frantically, searching for me, until they finally landed on my table. Relief flashed across her face, and she started moving toward us, each step gaining confidence.
Then her gaze shifted. Gwen, sitting across from me, casually sipping her chai latte, looked up at the same moment. Darcy froze mid-step, a sharp intake of breath betraying her panic.
And then she bolted. Literally. She turned and scrambled toward the exit, arms pumping like a small animal startled by a predator. I couldn't help but chuckle, glancing at Gwen, who was trying—and failing—not to laugh.
"Looks like she didn't expect to see both of us," Gwen said, grinning.
I set my coffee down and rose from the table. "Not quite the entrance I was expecting either," I muttered, moving toward the door.
Outside, Darcy had slowed but was still tense, glancing around like she was preparing for flight. I stepped closer, hands raised slightly to show I meant no harm.
"Hey, Darcy," I said gently, keeping my tone calm, steady. "It's okay. You're fine. Come on, you can sit with us."
Her wide eyes flickered between me and Gwen, uncertainty written on every line of her body. I offered a reassuring nod, and after a moment of hesitation, she shuffled back toward the table, visibly relaxing once she was safely between us.
Gwen leaned back, laughing softly. "Well… I guess that covers all three stages. She walked in, panicked like a terrified animal, and then we had to fetch her ourselves."
I let out a small chuckle, shaking my head. "Definitely not the quiet café visit I had in mind, but… memorable."
Darcy finally slid into the seat beside me, still flushed, still jittery, but no longer on the verge of fleeing. I offered her a faint smile. "See? Nothing to worry about. We're… manageable."
She blinked up at me, lips parting as if to reply, but Gwen's laughter filled the space first.
I watched Darcy take a cautious breath, finally letting a hint of her nervous energy dissipate. And as she settled into the seat, I realized just how… unpredictable this little experiment of ours was going to be.
I gestured toward the chair across from me. "Here, sit. You'll be safer at the table than wandering around like a startled rabbit."
Darcy hesitated, eyes darting between me and Gwen, before finally sliding into the seat, still tense but visibly easing. I offered a small, reassuring smile.
"Alright," I said, keeping my tone light, "start with the easy stuff. How's your day been so far? Classes, work, the usual chaos?"
Her shoulders relaxed fractionally as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Busy… but good. I mean, a lot of new faces, a lot of… things to process. It's been… intense."
Gwen leaned forward, teasing gently. "Intense? That's your polite way of saying you've already been slightly overwhelmed by Alex's charm, right?"
Darcy blinked, cheeks warming, unsure how to answer. I let a faint grin slip and jumped in, keeping the tone light. "Partially, perhaps. But enough about me. Tell me about Jane Foster. What's your daily work with her like?"
Her eyes widened, and she tucked her hands into her lap. "Oh… Jane is incredible. She… she really knows her stuff. She's meticulous, brilliant, and… very thorough. You always know she's thought three steps ahead."
I tilted my head, letting my words probe just enough without asking directly. "Thought three steps ahead, huh? Does she mostly stick to research, or does she take the lead on projects too?"
Darcy considered for a moment. "She leads a lot. She's not just following instructions—she makes the calls, coordinates experiments, supervises interns. You can tell she's… highly respected."
A faint smile tugged at my lips. That detail spoke volumes. In the MCU, Jane might be brilliant, but she's mostly confined to a supporting role. The way Darcy described her suggested someone with real authority, a scientist whose opinions carried weight—more in line with the comics version.
Gwen leaned back, sipping her drink. "Sounds like someone who knows what she's doing. Impressive."
I nodded, letting the pause stretch for a beat before pressing a bit further. "And the experiments themselves… do they focus more on applied, practical science, or the kind of theoretical stuff that stretches the limits of what we understand about the universe?"
Darcy's eyes lit up, her hands gesturing slightly now as the tension eased. "Oh, mostly theoretical. Cosmic phenomena, energy manipulation… things that aren't just for today's results. She's exploring possibilities, not just applying techniques."
"Now that you're a bit calmer… are you ready to talk about why we're actually here?"
Darcy swallowed, nodding slowly. "Yeah… I think so. I'm… ready."
Gwen smirked, nudging my shoulder lightly. "See? That's why Alex is good at this—gets them calm enough to actually participate."
I let a small, satisfied smile slip, turning my attention back to Darcy. "Good. Let's start there. No rush, no tricks. Just… talk, and we'll take it from the top."