A/N: I love how I wanted originally for this to be a collection of like scene extensions from the show, or scene rewrites, or AU stuff, or exploring Daisy's childhood, and instead a majority of this has been mini prompts and writing exercises (like Sense and Sensibility, it wasn't a story, nothing happened, it was just an exploration of the mind. I dunno, I really really like writing things like that). I'm trying to not make this so samey samey to everyone else's oneshot collection but like... I feel like that's sort of hard to do?
I dunno. I will gladly take requests though.
3x15 - What transpired after Coulson found Daisy on the rooftop.
The world was growing hazy, speckles of ash and dust swirling around her head in slow motion, glowing with ember. Daisy's chest burned and her muscles screamed in protest as she curled her aching body to one side to let out another cough, vaguely aware of the sticky blood rising from her throat and spattering the ground. Though her head was spinning, she let her eyes land on Charles Hinton's unmoving body next to her one last time, a wave of regret washing over her.
I was sure I could save you.
But you were meant to save me.
Those two little sentences echoed through her mind again and again, loud as the ringing in her ears, and feebly she reached for the wooden bird that perched between them, her fingers closing around the soft, whittled body of the robin. I'll protect her, she told herself again as the world around her started fading away. Always.
~/~
Coulson's frantic footsteps echoed through the hallways as he took the stairs two at a time up to the rooftop. He'd located Lincoln and sent him back down with the other agents; to his dismay, Lincoln's appearance had fit Daisy's future description perfectly.
His heart leapt to his throat. The rooftop. She had to still be on the rooftop.
She had to be okay.
Good God, please let her be okay.
His heart slammed in his chest as he pushed the gray door open, skidding to a halt to take in the scenery. Above his head a fire raged across the building's sign, emitting an eerie amber light that set the ash fluttering through the air aglow.
On the ground a few yards away lay two bodies, both unmoving.
"Daisy!" Coulson's blood turned to ice and a lump formed in his throat as he was by her side in an instant, dropping to his knees. Her skin was ghostly pale and her face was covered in newly forming bruises and gashes, her own blood smeared against her cheeks, sweat beading on her temples from the heat of the fire. To his relief her eyes fluttered as his fingers pressed against her neck, searching for a pulse, but his stomach lurched upon the realization of how faint it was. Her whole body shook as she coughed again, little gobs of blood shooting out of her mouth. "Come on Dais, stay with me."
"Coulson..." Her voice was hoarse and soft, and she squinted at him, trying to focus her eyes. He cradled her head in his lap, brushing his fingers softly through her hair to try and keep her awake as his attention shifted towards Charles. Reaching out a hand, he gently placed it on Charles' arm, bracing himself for gruesome visions he didn't receive.
So Charles was dead.
But his Daisy was alive.
"M'sorry." Daisy's voice slurred slightly, her eyes squeezing shut as her head tipped back, the effort of holding it starting to weigh her down. "Tried to..."
"You did good, Daisy," he murmured. "I promise. You did good. Just focus on staying awake for me, okay?" When she didn't respond, he stroked her cheek. "Hey, hey, open your eyes for me, okay?"
"Th'light..." she groaned, her eyes fluttering again.
"I know. I know. But I can't have you falling asleep, you've got to stay awake."
Guilt gnawed at his stomach once again. He should never have let her on this mission. He gritted his teeth, pushing that thought aside for the time being. His Daisy was alive - he had to focus on keeping her that way.
"Daisy, we're going to have to get you down to the ground floor again, I'm going to have to carry you."
"M'kay."
"That means we're going to have to get up, and you might be in pain."
"Mhmm..."
Coulson's brow knitted in worry - the color seemed to be draining from the young woman's face right in front of his eyes. His heart thudded in his chest at the thought of her losing consciousness altogether... again, he shoved that thought aside. "You ready Daisy?"
She nodded feebly, and he adjusted his arms to scoop her up in the most comfortable way possible; she grunted in pain, shifting a bit to accommodate her injuries. Out of her loose grip fell the wooden bird, making a hollow sound as it hit the ground. Her eyes opened, and groggily she shifted to try and reach for the bird, hissing in pain.
"I got it," Coulson reassured her, awkwardly kneeling back down to pick up the wooden bird. He lifted her once more, holding onto her tightly. "We're heading downstairs now. Let me know if you need a break, okay?"
A feeble nod told him that he needed to move. Pushing aside that rising, sickening feeling that he was watching the life drain out of his daughter right before his eyes, he started his descent back to ground level, making sure to take the stairs as steadily as possible so as to not jostle her too much.
About halfway down, her eyes shut and her head tipped back. He stopped abruptly. "Daisy..." His voice rose as anxiety flooded his chest. "Come on Daisy... stay with me..."
"Couldn't save'm..." she mumbled almost incoherently, though there was an unmistakeable mournful note to her voice.
"Just a little further." Coulson gritted his teeth, nudging the young woman in his arms. "Stay awake Daisy. Stay awake."
Her eyes fluttered again, and Coulson quickened his pace down the stairs.
He didn't realize how hot it had been up on the rooftop until he kicked the door open at ground level and felt the cool, crisp air hit his skin. Daisy winced in his arms, but he could tell she was losing consciousness fast. Outside was a whirlwind of action - agents running around cleaning the messes left behind, tending wounds, doing damage control. He spotted Lincoln sitting on the curb next to one of the S.H.I.E.L.D. vans, holding an icepack to his head, as Simmons stood nearby, rummaging through her medical supplies. Fitz jogged past, tablet in hand, but he skidded to a halt and whirled back to face Coulson as his eyes landed on him and Daisy.
"Sir!" he gasped. "Is she-"
"Alive, but in need of medical." Coulson forced himself to steady his breathing, to maintain his professionalism and push aside his personal feelings.
Fitz breathed a sigh of relief. "We were worried, we thought that maybe-" He stopped himself as Coulson's expression unconsciously changed. "I'll get Simmons," he finished, spinning on his heel and charging towards the young doctor.
"Breathe Dais," Coulson murmured, nudging her once more. "Wake up. Stay with me."
She only shifted slightly in response.
"Daisy!"
Coulson looked up to see Simmons running towards them, her expression twisted in concern. She took one swift glance over Daisy before spinning back around. "I need two more agents now!" she ordered sharply, and three who were running by spun around to look at her. "Get her on a van!"
Daisy being taken from him and put on one of the vans was all one giant blur to Coulson, and so was the entirety of the night until they got back to the base. Once Coulson no longer had the woman in his arms he forced himself to check up on the other agents and start giving them direction. This was the part of the job he resented - knowing that even though his daughter was severely injured, practically unconscious in his arms just a few moments ago, he couldn't be with her, he couldn't ensure she was okay, because he had to step up and lead.
At some point they'd all made it back to the base. Coulson barely remembered giving orders for the next steps. His attention was trained on his next instinct - finding May.
He knew he had to tell her. She'd probably already found out.
And he wasn't surprised to find her sitting outside the med bay, her eyes staring straight ahead at the door.
He approached.
She flickered her eyes over in acknowledgement.
"Can I join you?" he asked.
A curt nod gave him the permission he needed. He took a seat, staring straight ahead at the door.
"Andrew?"
She shook her head slightly. He nodded, but didn't say anything.
"I should have gone." Her voice held a harsh edge, forced through gritted teeth. "It should have been me."
"Mel-"
"Phil."
She looked over, and the intensity in her eyes almost took Coulson aback. He opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again.
There was no convincing her that it shouldn't have been her there.
Just like there was no convincing him that he hadn't made the wrong call sending Daisy in.
The image of those two lifeless bodies on that rooftop flashed before his eyes again...
He reached a hand over to hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. Her eyes flickered down at their hands, and for a moment Coulson thought she would pull away sharply, cross her arms, shoot him a glare. But instead she returned the squeeze, turning her gaze back forward towards the door.
The time seemed to tick by agonizingly slow. The exhaustion and emotional taxation of the day was catching up to both May and Coulson, but they refused to let sleep take over. They had to be there when Simmons came back through that door; they had to know the moment there was any news about Daisy.
~/~
The light was absolutely blinding, sending her head whirling as Daisy tried to open her eyes.
The ringing in her ears had subsided, but now there was this annoying, rhythmic beep next to her. Daisy blinked her eyes a few times before screwing them shut again, moaning groggily as she shifted in the bed.
The bed.
She was in a bed.
With her eyes still shut, she let her fingers stretch out beside her, caressing the smooth, cool sheet underneath her body. She was suddenly aware of a presence in the room, as her movements must have alerted whoever it was to step towards her.
"Daisy?"
The voice was chipper and sweet, but it sounded a bit like whoever it was was speaking into a tin can. Daisy tried to open her eyes again, but the light flooded her senses too fast and her eyes fluttered instead, squeezing them shut once more. She gritted her teeth, shifting once more before trying once more, letting her eyes land on the blurry figure that stood at the foot of her bed.
"Simmons...?"
Daisy's voice was so hoarse, but the figure was taking shape and starting to look like her British doctor friend. The woman nodded in confirmation, and Daisy breathed a sigh of relief, starting to sit up.
"Oh, no, not yet!" Simmons scolded her lightly, and suddenly she'd made her way over to Daisy's side and was guiding her back down. Daisy squinted at her in annoyance.
"Doesn't hurt?" she protested, though it was an odd mixture of confusion and disorientation.
"You had some nasty injuries," Simmons explained. "You're on a fairly decent amount of painkillers right now."
Daisy nodded, taking it in. As she sat for a moment, processing, suddenly the events leading up to her sitting in the bed with the bright lights and the beeping rushed back to her and she looked back up at Simmons, worry creasing her brow. "Lincoln?" she asked hesitantly, dread filling her lungs.
"He's okay!" Simmons reassured her quickly. "He sustained some injuries, and he's got a concussion, but he's okay."
Content with that answer, Daisy sank back into her pillow, her muscles starting to feel a bit tired again. "Good," she murmured, soaking in the comfort of a bed, the memory of the hard, tar rooftop on her back making her appreciate the soft, cushiony mattress that much more.
"Do you feel up for some visitors?" Simmons asked. "Coulson and May have been waiting up for you."
Daisy nodded, and Simmons promptly turned to retrieve her surrogate parents from the hall.
Alone in the room, Daisy was starting to remember the events that had transpired more vividly. Gideon Malick and the fire and the control room and Charles Hinton's lifeless body - Daisy swallowed thickly, guilt rushing in once more knowing that he'd traded his life for hers.
I was sure I could save you.
The wooden bird.
Daisy sat back up sharply, wincing a bit at the dull ache that coursed through her muscles at the action, but she needed to find the bird, it was important that she find the bird. She vaguely remembered reaching out on the ground, her fingers clasping the wooden surface, so she'd grabbed it, where was it?
It wasn't anywhere within sight, and Daisy couldn't move from the bed. Defeated, she sank back into the sheets as May and Coulson entered the room, rushing to her side. She registered the concern written all over both of their faces.
"Hey Dais," Coulson said softly, his eyes full of relief to see her awake. "How are ya feeling?"
Feeling. Feeling. She shifted again; her muscles were a bit sore, and her head was still spinning a bit, but otherwise she felt okay for the time being. "Tired," she croaked.
A smile played on Coulson's lips. "I can imagine," he agreed. "You scared the crap outta me on that rooftop."
"Sorry." Daisy smiled feebly, but then it faltered when she remembered Charles again, her brow knitting in frustration at herself. "I tried... Charles-"
"I know," Coulson murmured sympathetically. "You did good. I'm so proud."
"Make it mean something," May added. Daisy nodded, finding comfort in the idea of not letting Charles' death be for nothing. She looked over at Coulson suddenly.
"The bird-" she started, but Coulson was already drawing it from his pocket, holding it in his outstretched hand. Feebly, Daisy reached out to take it, letting her thumb run over the intricately carved, smooth surface of the wood. "Thank you."
I'll protect her. Always.
I promise.