Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful omega princess. She was sweet and kind and loved by her kingdom...
Darcy had always been an omega. Biology was not something that she could change. No one could.
However, everyone who had ever met Darcy Lewis would tell you that she was an alpha, through and through. Her brash, brazen nature; Her caustic sarcasm and often offensive language; Her tendency to run head first into obstacles instead of side-stepping them. These were all things typically associated with alpha personalities.
This discrepancy between biology and public opinion was one that Darcy carefully fostered. No one could know what she really was. Not if she wanted to remain safe.
She hadn’t always shunned her true nature. As a small child, she had believed being an omega made her special. Her secondary gender set her apart. According to her mother, she was a precious gift that would be treasured.
Her mother had always been talented at spinning tales.
Susan Lewis had filled her daughter’s head with fairytale stories. The imperiled omega princess was saved by a handsome alpha prince, and the two would fall in love. Happily ever after.
The kingdom was peaceful and happy. Until one day when the kingdom was attacked by a fierce dragon...
When the stories were finished and Darcy was tucked in bed, safely asleep, Susan would close her daughter’s sticker-covered bedroom door and return to the reality that was their dirty little apartment. To the boozed and drugged out shell of man that was her alpha, her daughter’s father.
Too small to understand that there was something wrong with her homelife, Darcy had believe the bruises her mama sported were accidents. She hadn’t realized the lies her mother had been telling until the day her father came after her.
The dragon’s roar shook the castle walls. The people hid in fear. Who could save them? Who was brave enough to fight the beast?...
Susan had tried to protect Darcy, as she had done all throughout Darcy’s few years. She tried to step between her sweet child and the snarling dragon. However, as in the fairytales, omegas couldn’t save themselves.
Darcy’s mother, her rock, her whole world until that point, was slammed into the formica kitchen counter. Fine droplets of blood spraying over Darcy’s shock-still form. Blonde hair had darkened to red as the monster’s claws grabbed at Darcy.
The dragon snatched the princess up as she tried to run with her frightened people. Her guards could not aid her. Trapped in the dragon’s fierce claws, the princess screamed for someone to save her....
Screams replaced her shock, the frightened noise bringing attention to them as her father hauled her out of their apartment. Adrenaline kept her from feeling the pain when his rough handling snapped her bone as he tried to drag her down the stairs.
No one knew where he had planned on taking the little girl, or what he had intended to do with her. No one would ever find out either. When confronted by neighbors, the enraged alpha had clutched his child to his chest and then vaulted over the railing of the third story landing.
The dragon took the princess back to it’s lair. Imprisoned in a cave high on a mountainside, the princess watched her kingdom from afar, waiting for someone courageous enough to save her...
A broken arm and bruises in the shape of fingers awakened Darcy from her idyllic dreams into the reality her mother had kept hidden.
Sitting on a cold bed in the hospital, weighed down by her new cast and a pressure in her chest she had never felt before, Darcy listened to the police officer explain that her mother was gone. That she wouldn’t be coming back. That Darcy would be going to live with a foster family.
Alone in the harsh artificial light, Darcy swore that she would not wait to be rescued. She would not be a princess anymore. She would be her own hero.
Thus, at only six years old, Darcy Lewis began to weave her own fantasy. Small threads of lies at first. One after another woven together into strands. Those strands took on different colors as they passed over and under each other, creating a tapestry that masked the truth completely.
Of course the fact that no one had known Darcy was an omega helped considerably. She had been too young to be tested before her mother died, and usually orientation did not present until early teens. There were signs of course. Typical behaviors that would differentiate an omega child from a beta or a gamma or an alpha.
But Darcy had always known what she was, as had her mother. Darcy knew that when she did present, the lie she had been telling would be undone. So she researched. It became her obsession. How to hide the truth, how to further the lie. By the time she was twelve, she could pinpoint the exact differences in the orientations. She could spot an alpha in the way they walked, a beta by their tone of voice, an omega by their eyes.
From there it was only a matter of mimicry. Alphas stood tall so Darcy squared her shoulders and charged forward like she had a right to be where ever she was. She hid her changing scent with perfumes as she experimented with ways to suppress the underlying biology. A box under her bed in the foster home had enough natural remedies and supplements to open a store.
With adulthood came the options to seek medical options but she could never bring herself to change her very self. Not to mention that she would have to reveal what she was to a medical professional. Instead, she treated her own illnesses, kept herself healthy and away from anyone who might be able to spot her lie. Though what she did was unhealthy overall, she tried to go about it in the best way she could.
Success was surprisingly easy, even in the beginning. No one expected any person that young to be knowledgeable enough to do what she did. No one expected an omega, a gender that was widely stereotyped as vapid, to be capable of doing what she did.
Thus the lie remained. Darcy Lewis was an alpha.
Which was why, years later, when SHIELD created a file on her after the incident in Puente Antigua involving a certain god of thunder, she was listed as an alpha.