Helloo people!

It's been a while since I've posted for AoS, but this is something I've been working on for a while now. Along with everyone I was horrified when I learned that Marvel was dropping not only Agent Carter but the chance for Bobbi and Hunter to have their own show. While what the writers were saying at Comic con has actually given me a lot of hope, this was just my way of giving some of my favourite characters the futures they deserved.

As always, I own nothing of this amazing (yet sometimes heartbreakingly maddening) show.

Hope you enjoy!

Chapter One: Daisy

[Fargo, North Dakota.

Three months after Lincoln's death.]

There're moments- quite a few now, if she's honest with herself- where Daisy simply has no idea how her life has come to this. Only a few years ago, she'd been relentlessly pursuing dead-end leads on the redacted words that made up her past, completely convinced that the answers she'd wanted were being intentionally hidden by military figures in black suits and ties. Back then the boundaries were simple, everything clear cut and easy. The government kept secrets they had no right to keep. Information belonged to everyone, not just those with the security clearance to read it. That sort of thinking had made the Rising Tide such a tempting opportunity; people who shared the same thoughts and possessed the same skills, a family for anyone who'd never had one.

Sometimes Daisy looks back at the girl who'd believed those things- back at Skye- and thinks despite outside appearances of a decrepit van and the dysfunctional relationships, just how good her life had been.

But she wouldn't go back to it. Not for a million years.

Skye was a nobody. Just a hacker desperately trying to make a difference.

As Quake, at least that's what she was finally able to achieve.

(The trick was to ignore what she'd lost in the process.)

She'd been in North Dakota for almost a week now, pursuing… well, pursuing something. She'd received a tip from a slightly-less-than-reliable source claiming that there was a facility in Fargo that had been racking in massive amounts of profit; money that obviously didn't fit within the manufacturing of hospital equipment it was claiming.

Daisy would have to be more careful about what sources she trusted from now on. Although the info on the time and place of the exchange was good, her old Rising Tide contact had failed to mention the sheer number of guards assigned to ensure its success. It was stupid of her to forget really; she had no one left anymore. Everyone she loved, well…

(His weak, breathless laugh crackles through the comms." Oh, I dunno, saving the girl I love and the world at the same time? Seems pretty right to me.")

It'd been an accident, not matter what any of the newspapers were saying. She hadn't meant to take out the entire bridge. Just the convoys carrying the illegally-produced weapons. She'd lost control (something that happened all too easy these days). She'd lost control, and everything had crumpled.

Those that had been left standing had ran at the sight of her shaking hands, hands that she curled into fists in an effort to contain her anger and the rolling, thrumming power Daisy could feel deep in her bones. There'd been an instant, where the sight of the men running away had been a reminder of all the friends she'd lost: Coulson, Fitzsimmons, May and Mack.

But that hadn't been right. Those were the one's she'd chosen to leave behind. The one's she'd abandoned.

The others were just dead.

Her mother- father as well, for all intents and purposes.

Lincoln.

God, she just kept losing people, when would she stop losing people?

And, with the thousand emotions that thought released, the world around her had exploded.

The newspapers showed scenes of the collapsed bridge, the destruction cutting through the cliff sides like bleeding wounds. They blasted the image of her hooded figure propelling herself out of the newly-formed ravine- a skill she'd only so recently learned, with an almost horrifying sense of satisfaction- the unconscious forms of the guards slung precariously over her shoulder and scrutinized the intentions of the unknown inhuman.

But they hadn't caught a glimpse of her face. That was probably the only reason she hadn't been arrested yet. Or why SHIELD hadn't caught up with her.

That being said, Daisy's current situation wasn't exactly promising.

The likeness they had in the photos was enough to prompt local police to put the entire city in lockdown. There were blockades at every road out of Fargo, her outline on every television. The media, no doubt at the strong-arming of some larger authority, encouraged doubts at the agenda of Quake and the resulting fear had had the exact desired effects: every citizen had promptly turned into a paranoid observer, one determined to find anything outside of the ordinary, and Daisy had been- all puns intended, she supposed- alienated.

Alienated, with absolutely nowhere to go.

Making her way casually down the pavement, Daisy forces a calm to her steps that she certainly doesn't feel in her quickening heart. She doesn't dare put up her hood, for fear that will draw unwanted comparison, but she's getting desperate. She needs a place to law low and gather her bearings before SHIELD gets here, but can't buy a motel room for the trail her fake ID will leave for when they do. There'd be plenty of empty warehouses in the industrial sector that she can rest in, but that's still a long way to walk with an decreasingly short amount of time.

She's just in the middle of debating with breaking into one of the apartments she's sure must be empty, when someone bumps into her shoulder. It's not particularly hard, but the pavements empty enough for it to be nothing but intentional, and Daisy's heart beats solidly in her chest. Her hands, shaking slightly, clench at her side almost unconsciously, but the figure continues walking for a few paces as if nothing had happened. It's a woman, with light brown hair that falls softly down her back. She doesn't move around to fully face Daisy, but swiftly turns her head slightly before inclining it in what can only mean 'follow me'.

And there's something- something in her height, her posture, the way she walks- that's familiar. And maybe it's for that reason, or merely because she just outright doesn't have any other options, but Daisy finds herself following.

Surely… Surely, it couldn't be-

The woman continues walking a few paces ahead, hands in the pockets of her jumper, pace measured and easy. She doesn't look back once to make sure her instructions had been heeded. Daisy is following her closely though, all the while feeling a sense of hope that burns in her chest in a way she hasn't felt in a long time.

After only a short time, they arrive at a stretch of small, adjoined apartments, identical from the outside in what can only occur in the outskirts of large cities. The woman leads her to the fourth house in. Instead of hunting for a key, she punches a 7-digit code into a pad that's only visible from this close distance. It's getting late now, but the setting sun provides just enough light for Daisy to easily see the sequence of numbers that opens the door with a soft click. The woman hadn't bothered trying to shield it with her body; was that her way of showing trust?

Or maybe she thinks she's simply going to kill her, so it doesn't matter keeping the passcode secret.

(There's a part of her, not as small as Daisy would like, that itches for this woman to try, just try.)

The hallway they enter is well-lit, bright and inviting. Despite it, Daisy walks in hesitantly, hating the boxed-in feeling the walls create despite the open door behind her.

There's a sudden pause, then-

"Bobbi? That you?"

Daisy hears the woman snort. "Who else would it be, Hunter?"

"You never know- and you're the one always yacking on at me being more careful!" There's no mistaking that British accent. With her heart lightening in her chest, Daisy slowly feels a smile stretch across her face- God when was the last time she'd had something to properly smile about?

Well, she knows that answer to that, of course.

She can practically hear the smirk in Bobbi's voice as the ex-agent answers back, "and yelling my name across the house is your idea of being careful?"

Hunter's voice carries across swiftly. "Oh shut up, you hell beast. Here I was worried 'bout you."

All air of mystery gone, Bobbi finally turns around. "Good to see you, Daisy," she says with a grin.

What follows next are several of the most unexpected hours Daisy has had in a long time. It's obvious this small flat isn't exactly lived in, with the sparse amount of furniture and lack of any fresh food, but with what they do have Hunter throws together to make a more-than-acceptable dinner, occasionally butting into the conversation where Daisy and Bobbi are sitting at the small, wooden table.

It's almost domestic, and slightly unnerving, but it's nice… more than nice.

Daisy slowly feels herself unwind under the ongoing banter Bobbi and Hunter throw at each other. It's been close to six months that Daisy had last seen the rogue agents, and the sense of familiarity they bring is nothing short of a welcome distraction from the last few months alone.

At some point early on, Hunter turns to her and says, "alright, I'm just gonna bite the bullet here-proverbial, of course, love," he smirks at Bobbi, then turns back to where Daisy's sitting, "but were you going for a completely terrifying goth look here?" He gestures to her hair, which Daisy had let grow out past her shoulders and dyed black. "I mean, the hair, sure, I can understand, but the fishnet gloves? Really?"

Bobbi's eyes slowly turn contemplative though, and Daisy knows it'll only be a matter of time before she looks for answers. Sure enough, with a timing that only comes from communication without the need for words, Hunter mutters an excuse about checking the outside security and leaves the room.

With a sigh, Bobbi crosses over to the kitchen and pulls open the fridge. Her face brightens considerably, and she draws back with two cans of Cactus Cooler gripped in her hand. She tosses one over to Daisy, before popping the tap on her own and taking a long, drawn-out gulp. "Hunter managed to find a couple of these at a shop 'round the corner," Bobbi says conversationally.

"That's how you know it's real," Daisy jokes, opening her own can with a soft click, but leaving it on the table, absently spinning the drink between her hands. "You guys going strong then?" she asks. Her voice is light, and Daisy congratulates herself at being able to mask any of the resentment she feels.

Bobbi grins, the blue of her eyes brightening in the light of the kitchen. "Turns out being on the run from anyone and everything is quite the romance builder."

Daisy forces the smile she knows is expected, but it falls quickly off her face. Her initial joy at seeing the two ex-agents has faded slightly with the conversation she knows is coming next. Sitting forward, she placed her hands flat on the table. Immediately there's a thrumming vibration through her fingertips, a shifting sort of power that aligns with her heartbeat, drumming through her veins. It calms her, knowing the endless supply of energy she could tap into; it gives her the strength she needs to talk first. "I know you want to know why I'm not with SHIELD."

Bobbi slumps back into her seat, eyeing Daisy with an intense stare. "Leaving those guys was the hardest thing I've had to do- Hunter too, from what I can tell. Made us wonder what could've happened that made you do it so willingly."

Daisy, despite herself, scoffs. Willingly? That would seem to imply some form of agreement. And there was nothing that had occurred three months ago that Daisy had agreed to.

"It wasn't willingly."

Bobbi raises an eyebrow. Her expression's hard, and instantly Daisy knows she's imagining a situation similar to the one months ago, where the changes within SHIELD had almost split the organization in two, with Daisy teetering uncertainly over the precipice. "No?"

Daisy hesitates, knowing full well that Bobbi is fishing for answers, and yet obviously doesn't want to resort to the various tactics that make her such a proficient interrogator. She wants Daisy to trust her, the way she did all those months ago; the way she did when they stood back-to-back in the building in Siberia, hunted by a seemingly invulnerable shadow. God, how much has changed since then? How many things did Bobbi and Hunter not know about? Surely, when they did, Bobbi wouldn't be nearly so eager to hold Daisy's trust when she found out the whole story.

"Lincoln's dead."

And there they are, there are the words that destroy her, the words that she repeats to herself, every night, as a reminder of why she can't go back, why she won't ever go back, because he won't be there.

And that might be an undoubtedly selfish thought, especially considering the undoubtable argument that Lincoln would've wanted her to carry on, but the Secret Warriors; that was a dream she'd wanted them to share and, without him, it suddenly seemed to hold no appeal.

So yeah, it might just be the most selfish thing Daisy's done. Lincoln had always been the most selfless one anyway.

Bobbi's eyes are wide. "Daisy…" she breathes, looking to the door, and it's easy to see on her face that she's thinking about Hunter, about what she would do without him. "Daisy, I'm so sorry."

Reflexively, Daisy shakes her head, rejecting Bobbi's sympathy when she simply doesn't deserve any. "Don't be. It was my fault."

"That's not true."

Bobbi's answer was immediate, and Daisy fixes her with a harsh glare. "You don't know anything about it."

"I don't need to. I just know you."

The amount of faith Bobbi has in her, contrary to what the ex-agent had probably wanted, sparks a flash of anger and suddenly Daisy's on her feet and her hands are fisted at her sides as the ground gives a threatening tremble.

And Bobbi just sits there.

Taking a sip of her drink, Bobbi lounges back in her chair, seemingly perfectly relaxed in the face of the potential disaster that could rip apart her kitchen. Bobbi's eyes though, they're scrutinizing; Daisy has no idea what for, but after a few tense seconds the ex-agent sighs, leaning forward to the table and frowning up at the Inhuman's imposing form.

"You've forgotten, Daisy," Bobbi starts, "that I was there when you first got your powers. I saw how scared you were of who you could become and I saw you make the choice to help people." She reaches to the side of the table, pulling back a small stack of newspapers, each blaring the headline and image of Quake; the new unknown inhuman, or the recent destruction she'd caused at the bridge. "I'm just trying to figure out if Quake has the same ideals."

Quake. Daisy doesn't even know where that name came from; it was just suddenly coined by some small bulletin a few months back. It's fitting though, she supposes; a force of nature that comes without warning, leaving only destruction in its wake. All the same, Daisy narrows her eyes. "You think I'm not doing good things? You think they," she gestures towards the papers, "didn't deserve any of it?"

"I'm sure they probably did, but that's a dangerous line, Daisy. There's a reason the world fears vigilantes; a lot of people aren't seeing what you're doing in the same way you are."

"Well maybe I don't care what other people think."

"Don't you see? Don't you get how dangerous that is? Confidence to believe in yourself when others don't is one thing, but distancing yourself completely?" Bobbi shakes her head vehemently, "forget your abilities, Daisy; it's that way of thinking that labels you as Inhuman."

And it's that- that accusation of her isolation, regardless of how completely true and self-imposed it is- that suddenly seems to drain all the anger and energy from Daisy's limbs. Exhausted and swaying slightly on her feet, she staggers and falls gracelessly back into her chair. Her hands are shaking again- but for entirely different reasons now. "I can't go back," she breathes, "not after what happened; not after what I did."

Bobbi's far too smart to ask for any clarification, but Daisy can practically see her mind working; knows that the ex-agent is thinking through the sources she surely still has to find out just what the hell Daisy's talking about. For now, though, Bobbi remains quiet, watching with careful eyes, which Daisy appreciates. There hasn't been anyone she could just vent to and the emotions that she's been keeping so carefully locked down are spewing out at an alarming rate.

"The great thing," Bobbi says slowly, carefully, "about all your friends being agents, is that they know what it's like to have everything out of your control."

Daisy lets out a breath through her teeth. "I… that's the thing. I don't know how much it was… me… and how much was what that thing was making me feel." She's well aware of how absolutely ridiculous that will sound to Bobbi, who has no idea about Hive or his powers over other Inhumans. But she can't bring herself to explain it now, and Bobbi shows no sign of needing clarification. Honestly, Daisy muses, she's probably figured most of it out already. Damn perceptive agents.

"Look, Daisy," Bobbi starts, sitting forward in her chair. "I can understand why you'd want to run. Especially after having lost Lincoln… God, I can understand wanting to just get away. But are you sure that this," she gestures again to the newspapers, "is what you want? It's a lonely life."

Daisy looks up, throwing the question back at her, "is it?"

Bobbi waves a dismissive hand. "Hunter and I only need each other. Believe me, it's a blessing and a curse."

Daisy can understand that. Having had three months to live with Lincoln's death, she gets the fear of being bound so closely to someone. It was a risky game in any circumstance- but practically playing with fire with their sort of lifestyle. Bobbi and Hunter though, they'd already been burnt, had the scars to prove it, and yet come out of it all the stronger.

That was the bond forged in fire. Those were the people you could never truly lose.

And Daisy suddenly felt horribly, irreparably alone.

"I've got some things to take care of first," she says in a low voice, struggling to keep emotions off her face, "some promises I need to keep."

Bobbi raises an eyebrow. "And then?"

"And then…" Daisy trails off, "then, I'll think about it."

It's a brush off, to say the least, but it's the best she can do without outright lying. And, like always, Bobbi seems to understand that.

Daisy's gone by the time they wake up. The blankets and pillows Hunter had scrounged from a dark cupboard were neatly folded and stacked at the end of the couch they'd offered her for the night. The dishes they'd left had been washed and now lay drying in a rack that Bobbi didn't even know they had. There was practically no evidence that another person had stayed there at all, except for a phone number hastily scrawled on a scrap piece of paper, as if the writer had decided to leave it only at the last second.

Still though, the fact that she left it makes Bobbi's chest lighten.

Hunter takes in the kitchen with wide eyes. "Bloody hell, this is cleaner than when we first bought this place."

Bobbi doesn't answer, but a smile is still tugging at her lips as she folds Daisy's number in half and tucks it into her bra. She knows what Daisy's offering here; she's giving her the chance to alert SHIELD to her whereabouts, letting her make the decision about whether or not to bring Quake in. The agent in Bobbi wants to but it's the other part, the one she doesn't let herself listen to all that often, that made her stop.

Daisy had been forged from SHIELD's ideals and while that was good in a thousand different ways, she should be allowed to find out who Quake was by herself.

Hunter comes up from behind her, crossing his arms across her chest and pulling Bobbi back into his embrace. He doesn't do this very often, arguing that it gives her the perfect opportunity to highlight their height difference, and Bobbi feels herself relax into the warmth his body provides.

"What did you guys talk about last night?" he asks, his voice tickling her ear.

Bobbi brings up a hand and threads it through the short strands of Hunter's hair. "Just reminding her of what she was leaving behind."

He's silent for a moment, then, "you think they miss us more than her?"

Bobbi rolls her eyes and pulls away, "not the point here, Hunter."

"I know that! I just reckon you and I made so much less trouble. I mean, remember the amount it cost to get the Playground refurbished after that first earthquake debacle? When did we ever cause that much mess?"

Bobbi disappears into the bedroom, emerging again a few seconds later with their two large rucksacks. She throws one to Hunter with a slight grimace- she'd been putting a lot of strain on her left shoulder lately, and Hunter knows she's aggravated that old injury despite her repeated assurances. "I think Daisy whines a whole lot less than some people," she answers.

Hunter grins. "I know, May was getting really sick of your attempts at girl talk." Chuckling at the glare she sends him, he looks down at the bag in his hands. "We're out of here already?"

"You know we can't stay. SHIELD will be here by now and we can't risk being seen with them."

Hunter shrugs one strap onto his shoulder. "I know, love, I just thought we could sneak a look at everyone, see if Mack's got his designs sorted for that shotgun axe he was telling us 'bout a while back."

Bobbi shoots him a look, but it's not filled with irritation now, but rather a myriad of emotions that do nothing but tell him how much she wants that too. "We can't do that," she says, her voice soft.

"I know we can't, Bob," he replies, bridging the distance between them and placing a quick kiss on her forehead. "But we will one day." His eyes are unwavering in their belief, and Bobbi nods.

They leave the apartment only minutes later.

Thank you so much for reading! I'm not entirely pleased with how this chapter is in several places, but I also want to have this done before Season 4 is released and with how long I take to update, that's not that much time!

But yeah, thank you again, if you could leave a review telling me what you think or what you'd like to see in the next few chapters, that'd be amazing.

Also, I've recently posted a story for Agent Carter. It basically follows season 1 from that episode in Russia, but with one very significant red-headed difference ;) If you have the time to please check that out too, I'd appreciate it infinitely.

Thank you!

-F