3x22 - 4x01: Perennial
The only sound that could be heard on the ride home was the sobbing of a heartbroken Daisy Johnson.
In deafening silence, the team exited the Zephyr. Daisy didn't move from her spot on the ground, soft cries shaking her body as she held the radio against her chest. As everyone mournfully cleared out, Coulson somberly stood behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Daisy," he murmured softly. "Let's go."
With guidance from Coulson, Daisy shakily got to her feet, still clutching the radio firmly. Coulson stood quietly watching as she looked down at the radio, bit her lip, and slowly put it back. Her gaze lingered for a moment longer before sniffling once more and turning back towards him, unable to meet his gaze. Coulson's chest ached as he watched her, and when she was ready they made their way to her containment unit.
"It's just a precaution," he explained, his tone matter-of-fact but still gentle. "We know you've been through a lot... we just want to make sure you're okay."
She didn't speak. She didn't look at him. She just sat on her bed and stared at the ground.
Coulson began walking back to meet the others and debrief them for the day. He kept his gaze forward, but his mind was buzzing with worry. Ever since she returned from Hive, she looked so absolutely broken. He had never seen her like that... It seemed as though ever since she had joined S.H.I.E.L.D. that she had been met with so much trauma. From the initial discovery of her true origins, to getting shot so early on in her career with S.H.I.E.L.D., to Ward turning on her... then going through Terrigenesis and meeting both her parents and the way that played out... now the backlash Inhumans were facing from the "Inhuman Outbreak" and everything that's happened with Hive... So much had happened, piled on top of itself, and yet she always persevered and fought another day. It wasn't fair. None of it was fair. He couldn't even begin to imagine the pain she was in.
How can we move forward? How can I make this better for her?
"Coulson."
He stopped, looking over his shoulder to see May approaching. Her usual no-nonsense attitude was off, her brow creased in worry, but her voice betrayed no strong emotion.
"May."
She matched his pace and they walked side by side, looking straight ahead. "How is she?"
"Not great," Coulson reported. Unlike May, he couldn't verbally hide his concern. "She's taking everything hard. Like... really hard. But I know she just needs some time."
"She's strong," May stated, keeping her eyes straight ahead. "But she's not invincible." Coulson stopped. May turned, meeting his gaze. "We need to be there for her, but we also need to respect her. She might want space, she might push us away."
"We're not giving up on her," Coulson said, his voice firm.
"Of course not. You didn't give up on me. Now, we have to do the same for her."
Coulson nodded, looking down for a minute before meeting May's gaze again. "I hate seeing her like this," he confessed.
May bowed her head in agreement. "Me too," she murmured. They stood quietly for a minute before she straightened back up again, lifting her chin. "Go debrief the team," she said as they started walking again. "We'll send Simmons to do daily check-ins with Daisy to evaluate her mental health. She took a hit - we just need to know how hard so we can figure out what's best going forward."
"You're right," Coulson agreed. "It's been a long day for everyone. Once I let everyone go for the rest of the night, I'll pull Simmons aside and fill her in. And May-" She stopped and looked at him. "I think you should talk to her. I think you'll be able to relate and get through to her."
"Of course."
Day One
"How are you feeling today Daisy?"
She didn't move. She didn't even acknowledge Simmons' presence. She just sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the floor.
Simmons clutched her clipboard close to her chest, her brow furrowed as she looked, concerned, at her friend in the containment unit. "Daisy, on a scale of one to ten, how do you feel mentally?"
No response.
"Daisy?"
Nothing.
Simmons sighed softly. "Daisy, I need to give Coulson an accurate reading on your current mental state so we can help you overcome this. I know I'm no therapist but we can help. Together we can fix this."
No response.
Simmons frowned. "What would Dr. Garner have done..."
"Garner..."
Simmons looked up sharply from her clipboard. Daisy's gaze was still fixated intently on the floor, but she had spoken. Her voice was raspy and soft.
"Yes, Garner," Simmons murmured somberly, remembering their fallen friend. Daisy looked away. "Daisy-"
"My fault..."
Simmons shook her head. "Not your fault. Don't ever think-"
"My fault."
"Daisy, I promise you, it's not-"
"Stop."
"Daisy-"
"Please."
Daisy looked up pleadingly. Simmons looked away, biting her lip. This is worse than I thought... She turned back to look at her friend, her strong, amazing, resilient friend...
She was so different. Unrecognizable, even. Her hair was a mess, her cheeks were stained with tears... their eyes locked and Simmons' breath caught in her throat as she saw how much pain Daisy's held.
"Daisy..."
Daisy looked away, closing her eyes.
"Daisy... We're all here for you. I promise. I know it might be hard to talk about things right now. Coulson said you'd need time. But I promise you, we'll get through this. The pain is temporary, eventually you'll-"
"No." Daisy's tone was shaky but intense.
"No?"
"No."
"...No...?"
"I deserve every ounce of pain I feel. And I deserve to feel it forever."
Simmons stepped back, her eyes fixed on her friend. "D... Daisy..."
Then, came a soft, defeated; "I shouldn't even be alive."
Simmons froze. She could feel a sob rising in her throat, but she pushed it away. She stared at Daisy, unable to wrap her mind around how her friend must be feeling. After a few moments, she spoke; "Daisy... nothing that happened was your fault. You didn't-"
"Go."
"Daisy?"
"Leave."
"But Daisy-"
"Please. Just go."
"Daisy..."
"Please."
Simmons sighed, letting a single tear roll down her cheek. "I'll... I'll check up with you tomorrow. Please try to eat something and get some rest, okay?"
Silence. Not even a gesture to show acknowledgement. Simmons wiped her cheek, clutched the clipboard close, and walked away as more tears started to fall.
Day Three
The ground rumbled beneath everyones' feet. Fitz looked down at the glassware on his workbench, then back up at Simmons. Her eyes held the same level of concern he felt.
After quickly moving some of the glass towards the center of the bench and back into drawers in an attempt to reduce the sea broken glass they'd return to, Fitz and Simmons quickly ran down to where they knew the source of the earthquake was.
They found Coulson and May standing side by side by the window of the containment unit.
They looked like worried parents.
Without a word Simmons and Fitz joined them, and not too long after Mack came running after. His breath hitched when he laid eyes on the situation.
The Inhuman was curled up on her bed, tossing and turning, letting out little whimpers every now and again. Her face was scrunched in pain, and suddenly the ground shook again.
"We have to do something!" Fitz cried, starting for the unit door. Simmons grabbed his wrist, shooting him a knowing look.
"There's nothing we can do," May said softly, not taking her eyes off of Daisy.
The tremors became stronger, and more constant. The team watched quietly as Daisy thrashed in her bed, suddenly letting out a loud cry as she sat straight up, her eyes wide. She looked around slowly, taking in her surroundings, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She closed her eyes, sucked in a deep breath, and let it out. The ground stopped shaking.
Mack crossed his arms, furrowing his brow. "I'm going in," he announced.
"No." Coulson averted his gaze away from Daisy, who now had her legs pulled up to her chest and was rocking gently, her head buried in her knees. Soft sobs echoed through the room. "That's an order."
The team stood quietly, watching, waiting, hoping. Simmons had one hand placed gently on the glass. Fitz knew she shared his desire to go in and help, to comfort their friend. But he knew that wasn't possible. He reached out, lacing his fingers with Simmons' other hand, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. She looked at him, and he nodded.
There was nothing they could do.
Mack averted his gaze, looking down at his feet. Fitz knew he couldn't stand to see his partner in this way. His gaze bounced from Mack to May, who had her arms crossed over her chest. It wasn't often Fitz saw one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s best agents so emotional. It was scary. May looked like she was sick with worry, unable to take her eyes off of the agent she had trained so long ago.
Coulson wasn't faring much better. Fitz knew there must have been a million thoughts running through the former director's head. It wasn't a secret that Coulson had a soft spot for the young agent he took off the streets. Coulson pinched his temple, closing his eyes as he thought before turning back to the team.
"The new director won't be happy to find us wasting time," he said finally, though his voice wavered. They didn't like it, but they knew it was true. "I'm sure he'll have some words to say later today about this, and I know they're not going to be good. For now, it's best if we all go back to work."
The team lingered for a moment before starting to disperse. Mack shook his head, turned and walked away, not looking back but keeping his head bowed. Fitz and Simmons shared one more look before starting back for the lab, not before stopping and turning back to glance at Coulson and May one last time.
May's hand was gently placed on Coulson's arm, her head bowed as they exchanged soft words. They really did look like worried parents.
Fitz was almost as concerned for them as he was for Daisy.
Day Four
"Everyone, clear the room. I would like a private word with Agent Coulson and Agent May."
May shared a look with Coulson as the other agents cleared out from Director Mace's office. She knew this wasn't going to be a fun conversation.
"Shut the door behind you Burrows."
Once they were alone, Mace stood up, walking over to Coulson and May.
"Director, I know what you're-"
"Coulson, let me speak." May looked directly at Mace, keeping as straight a face as she could. "Agent Simmons' reports are troublesome. I know I put you and May on Project Perennial, but I worry that you and the team you've assembled are not objective enough when it comes to the situation."
"Can we stop calling this 'Project Perennial' and call it what it really is?" Coulson cut in. "We have an agent down. An asset to S.H.I.E.L.D. We are the closest thing to family she's got, and supporting her through a hard time isn't some mission or field op."
Mace raised an eyebrow. "An asset would suggest she is useful to us. Agent Coulson, Daisy Johnson is a liability at this point."
"That's where you're wrong," May said. "Daisy is an asset. Look at everything she's done. She was an integral part in dismantling Hydra. She was the one who put a stop to Jiaying and the impending war with the Inhumans from Afterlife. She assembled the Secret Warriors, and while that didn't end up going as planned, we did gain another Inhuman asset from it." May paused, looking back at Coulson. He nodded, and she spoke again. "Daisy is one of our best agents. I would know. I personally trained her, made her the agent she is. I've trained a lot of agents, Director Mace, and trust me when I say that I've never been more proud of anyone than I am of Daisy."
Mace narrowed his eyes, studying the two agents in front of him. "That's why I fear you are too biased. I've looked through her file over and over. She was in the system. Bounced around from family to family until she aged out and was on her own. You're her family. You two are basically her parents. And that makes you too biased."
Coulson and May exchanged a look.
"Keeping Daisy here is wasting valuable resources, especially where she's down and not doing anything in return. We should have sent her to a facility when she started showing signs of her trauma."
"No," Coulson argued politely but firmly. "That will only make things worse. She needs to be here with all of us. She needs to be surrounded by family."
Mace thought for a moment. May lifted her chin, hoping he would see things their way. It was absolutely vital that Daisy remained with S.H.I.E.L.D. at the Playground, surrounded by people who care about her. It was what had helped May in the past, and she knew it was best for Daisy.
"Okay," Mace finally decided. "I'll give it until the end of this month. But after that, if she's not showing any signs of improvement, we will have to relocate her to a facility and put her under intensive watch. If you two are correct that she'll pull through this way, then fine, she's back on the team. If not, she's dismissed from S.H.I.E.L.D. forever."
"Thank you Director," May said, bowing her head.
"You won't regret this," Coulson added. "You'll see."
As they started towards the door, Mace spoke again. "You know, only some daisies are perennials, bouncing back year after year. Many varieties are annuals. After their time, they don't come back."
Coulson sighed. "The metaphor isn't lost Mace. But I assure you, Daisy isn't going anywhere."
Day Seven
"Okay team, we need to discuss some things."
Coulson stood in front of the group, handpicked agents who were close with Daisy. May, FitzSimmons, Mack... They all knew which situation they were discussing. The energy in the room was too heavy to be anything else.
"Simmons, you've checked in every day since the incident, what's your analysis?"
Simmons held her clipboard close to her chest. Fitz stood right next to her, a hand placed gently on her back. She sighed, looked down at her notes, then looked back up. "It's not good," she confessed, her voice wavering. "She's severely traumatized. She won't eat, she won't sleep, she barely speaks during our check-ins. I don't think this is something that's just going to fix itself in a few days, or weeks... maybe even months."
Coulson nodded, frowning. "Do you see any signs of improvement at all? Do you think we're getting through to her?"
Simmons bit her lip and shook her head hesitantly. "...No," she said softly. "It's... Well at first she seemed so devastated, but now it's... it's like she's numb. She doesn't appear to feel anything at all."
Coulson looked down. This was not the news he had been hoping for. "Thank you Simmons. Mack? What's your take on this? Anything noteworthy to report?"
Mack's arms were folded. The large, muscular man's eyes held nothing but sadness and concern. "The other day..." His voice cracked; he cleared his throat, lifted his chin, and tried again. "The other day, I brought her her breakfast and I noticed that... Well, Simmons said she's not eating and I can vouch for that, I always find her plates untouched but... The utensils... The knives we bring... You know to cut the meat... I noticed yesterday that the knife was missing from her plate... I didn't notice until I got back to the kitchen but... It made me wonder how many she's taken. What she's doing with them..."
Coulson sighed, closing his eyes and pinching his temple. Tears pricked at his eyes, but he forced them away, looking back at Mack. "Thank you. How about you May?"
May shrugged, but Coulson could see that even she couldn't hide her emotions. "Same thing," she said softly. "Barely speaks, hasn't slept. I've tried getting through to her but... nothing."
"It's like she doesn't want our help." Fitz's voice was full of despair. "I don't know how we can help her if she doesn't want to get better."
"It's not that," May stated, looking over at him. "It has nothing to do with wanting to get better. She thinks she doesn't deserve it."
"Of course she deserves it!" Fitz protested.
"Not in her eyes." May folded her arms. "She doesn't think she's worthy of love anymore, that she doesn't deserve to have a support system or a chance to feel better."
"She feels every ounce of guilt for everything that's happened," Simmons added. "She said... she said she deserves to feel all of the pain all the time. That she shouldn't even be alive."
The group went silent.
Mack turned away, taking a few steps and holding his head in his hands.
Fitz looked down at Simmons. Simmons turned towards him, leaning her head against his chest as tears escaped her eyes. He hugged her close, resting his chin on her head, letting a few of his own tears slip as well.
Coulson looked at each member of his team before his gaze finally landed on May, who was looking down at the floor, her brow creased with worry. She looked up to meet his eyes. They nodded at each other, silently sharing the same concerns. After a moment to collect his thoughts, he addressed the distraught agents again. "We're not giving up hope for her. She'll come around eventually. We just need to keep checking in and making sure she knows we're here for her. Also... Mack, when you bring her food, I think you should start precutting it all. And... I'll send someone in to sweep her room for anything she could harm herself with."
The team shared uneasy glances with each other.
"We're not losing hope for her," Coulson reinforced. "Daisy is a member of this team, and she always will be. She's never abandoned us, she's always been there for us. Now, we need to be there for her. Dismissed."
As the meeting broke up, May approached Coulson. "I know you're worried sick."
"I know you are too," he responded.
"You haven't slept," May observed.
"Neither have you," Coulson responded.
After a pause, she spoke again. "I'll try to get through to her again tomorrow.."
"I'll see her again tonight," Coulson added. "We have to get her to listen."
"We can't make her." May crossed her arms. "If she won't listen, it doesn't matter how many times we give her the same speech. She has to meet us halfway."
Coulson sighed. "I know. But we have to keep trying."
May nodded. "Get some rest," she murmured.
"You too." As she started to walk away, Coulson added; "Thank you."
"For what?"
"Everything. Being here. Being persistent. Not giving up."
May nodded curtly. "In that case, I could thank you for the same things."
Day Eleven
"Okay Tremors, we made you some scrambled eggs with toast and a strawberry banana smoothie today, how's that sound?"
Mack placed the plate of food down on the table, looking away. It sickened him to see his partner in the state she was in. She didn't move from the bed, nor did she speak. Mack sighed, shaking his head. He started towards the door, but stopped as he reached for the keypad to punch in the code. He turned, slowly letting his eyes land on Daisy, who sat on her bed, knees pulled to her chest.
"Tremors," he said softly, taking a step forwards. "Daisy..."
Nothing.
"Daisy look at me."
No response.
"Please."
Still nothing.
"Daisy, I can't just stand by and watch you be this shell of a person. You need to eat something. Anything."
Mack took a step forward. "Please, Daisy," he pleaded. She turned her head. Mack sighed, turning back to the table. He picked up the smoothie, slowly making his way over to sit next to her. "At least take a sip. It's been over a week. This isn't sustainable. You need your strength."
He placed a hand on Daisy's back. She recoiled, glaring at him. "Don't," she rasped. But when Mack held out the smoothie to her, she took it, at first taking a small sip. After swallowing and letting it settle for a minute, she drank the rest in large, greedy gulps. Mack smiled a little as she finished it off, but the smile faded when she looked away again.
"Daisy, do you remember... do you remember when you first came back from Hive-" She flinched. "-and I came to see you? Do you remember any of what we talked about?"
Daisy looked down at the glass in her hand, tracing the top with her finger. She stared intently at it, avoiding eye contact.
Mack sighed, keeping his eyes on his partner. "Well, I do. I told you that you could either let the darkness inside you consume you, or you can let the light in, become stronger, move on."
"I don't deserve that," Daisy rasped, so softly Mack almost didn't catch it.
"You do, Tremors," he insisted. "You do."
"No."
"Daisy-" He placed a hand on her arm. She flinched away, glaring at him.
"You don't understand," she hissed. "You shouldn't be here. You shouldn't pity me. I don't want your forgiveness. I don't deserve it."
"You know that's not-"
"Yes it is." She placed the glass on the floor and stood, glaring. "I deserve to rot. I need to pay for everything I've done. The blood I spilled. The lives lost because of me. Because of my actions." She paused, standing up and taking a step away. Then hesitantly, softly, she whispered; "I almost killed you."
Mack stood, grabbing her hands. "I know, but I forgive you. You know that."
"I don't deserve that," she growled. "You should hate me." She fought, but he kept a firm grasp, and finally she gave in. She's too weak to keep fighting.
"Daisy, the pain you feel, that's a normal part of life. It's understandable that you feel the way you do after what you went through. But you can't take it out on yourself. You can't starve yourself, not sleep, spend every moment fixated on the past." Mack sighed, pausing for a moment to brace himself before he rolled up her sleeves.
He couldn't prepare himself enough to see what he saw.
"Daisy, where is it?" She recoiled, rolling her sleeves back down to hide what she had done. Mack sighed, pinching his temple. "Where is it?" he repeated, more forcefully this time. "Some of these are new. We swept your room, we thought we got everything. Where are you hiding it?"
"I deserve this." Her voice was scathing. The room started shaking. She spoke slowly, letting every word sink in. "I need to feel all of the pain. I need to pay for what I have done."
Mack shook his head. It dawned on him - Daisy is the one who programmed the unit. Of course she would be able to come and go as she pleased. "You stole it."
Daisy didn't say anything. She just glared.
"Please. Let us-"
"No."
"Daisy-"
"Let me do this. I have to."
Mack sighed, stepping away. "I won't stop trying." Daisy sat back on her bed, looking away. "We're gonna get through to you Tremors. One of these days." She dropped her head to stare at the floor again. "You don't see it yet. But you're worth it. You mean a lot to all of us. And I promise you, things will get better. You'll feel better."
Nothing. Daisy was done talking.
Mack started towards the door, but stopped as he noticed the plate of eggs again. He stared for a moment, wondering if he should bring it over, test his luck again. I shouldn't push it. It's a miracle I got her to drink her smoothie.
As he went through the door, the sound of the Inhuman crying echoed through the room.
Day Fifteen
"On a scale of one to ten, how are you feeling mentally?"
At the beginning of all this, Simmons had been able to at least fake a cheery persona, at least when greeting Daisy. But now, she dreaded going down to see her. She knew that at best, there would be no improvements, and feared that at worst, she'd find her close friend dead. She hated being pessimistic. She hated that she was even in the position she was in. But it became harder and harder every day to go and face her.
Daisy was her friend. Hell, Daisy was one of her closest friends in S.H.I.E.L.D. She was empathetic, bubbly, always able to make Simmons laugh and give her hope on a bad day. But now... now she was just... an empty husk.
Simmons sighed, unable to hide her frustration at the situation any longer. "Okay Daisy, I'm going to be really, really honest with you."
Daisy looked up.
"It is incredibly hard to come down here every day and spend half an hour squeezing answers out of you. You know I need to do your evaluation and make my report every morning so I can report back to Coulson. I have other things I need to be doing as well! And quite frankly, if you were a bit more cooperative then it would make my day a lot smoother."
"Then forget me," came the raspy, defeated response of Daisy as she looked back to the ground. "Leave me alone."
"I can't do that," Simmons sighed. "You have the rather unfortunate predicament of having an entire group of people care about your wellbeing. And, this is an assignment I was tasked with, and I have to see it through. So either we can sit here every day and spend forty five minutes in silence while I draw the same, dire conclusion over and over, or you can give me a couple of honest answers and I can be on my way.
Daisy narrowed her eyes, clenching her jaw. Simmons' stomach flipped. Had she been too harsh? She thought for a moment. If tough love wasn't going to work... maybe she could try a different angle.
"Daisy," she began, in a softer, friendlier tone. "Do you miss being in the field?"
Daisy hesitated, then a slight, almost nonexistent nod. Simmons smiled a bit.
"If I came down and gave you a little bit of insight on whats going on upstairs, just to keep you in the loop, would you answer a few questions?" When Daisy didn't respond, she added; "A lot of it has to do with Inhumans."
This definitely piqued Daisy's interest, and she looked back up at Simmons. She saw something in Daisy that she hadn't seen in a long time - intrigue. Satisfied, Simmons couldn't help but to smile a bit. "Some of it's classified, well a lot of it is actually. But what I can tell you is that we're trying to track down how many Inhumans are out there. Also... how many Inhuman opposers there are as well."
"Has something happened?" While Daisy's voice was very one-note and quiet, Simmons could see the gears starting to turn in the Inhuman's head.
"Nothing bad. We just want to make sure they're all accounted for and safe, especially now with the Sokovia Accords." She studied her closely, knowing that Daisy was processing the information. "So... will you answer a few questions so I can get back to work?"
Daisy nodded. Simmons couldn't help but to smile - while it wasn't a major breakthrough, it felt like progress.
"Alright then Daisy, how are you feeling mentally on a scale of one to ten?"
Day Nineteen
May stood, watching stoically through narrow eyes as Daisy paced in her module. She had gone downstairs to try talking again - Simmons had mentioned that she had started giving Daisy slight intel on what was happening upstairs, and that it seemed to be helping. May had wondered if maybe she could convince the Inhuman to at least pretend to be improving, prove that she was feeling better, so she could be allowed in the field again. Fighting injustice always helped clear May's head after all, and she knew she and Daisy spoke the same language when it came to fieldwork.
May knew she was in no shape to fight again. But maybe, just maybe, if Daisy was allowed to be brought on a low-impact field op, enough to get her feet wet again, it would give her that taste of life she so desperately needed.
But when May came downstairs, she found Daisy with her sleeves rolled up and her arms dripping in blood, pacing back and forth within the containment module.
Collect yourself, she told herself, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Go and get the first aid kit. Then patch her up. Keep your cool.
In truth, May was finding it increasingly harder to maintain a handle on her emotions these past few weeks. Just as Coulson saw Daisy as his daughter, May couldn't help her maternal instincts when it came to her. And to see her "daughter" slowly deteriorating, spiraling, losing her sense of reality and life... It was absolutely heartbreaking.
After a moment of deep breathing and regaining control, May picked up the first aid kit and entered the unit.
Daisy didn't even acknowledge her entry.
"You're not gonna even try to hide what you did?" May asked, pointing to Daisy's arms. Daisy shrugged, not even looking her way.
"You guys have eyes on me at all times," she murmured. "There's no point."
May rolled her eyes, placing the first aid kit on Daisy's bed and opening it up. "Then you know there's no point in fighting me on this. I have to patch it up."
Daisy shook her head, her eyes narrowed. May studied her closely. It seemed like the Inhuman was worlds away. She could always tell when Daisy was hatching a plan or thinking deeply; she knew her like the back of her hand.
"You're planning something," May stated simply. "What?" Daisy didn't say anything. May pulled out an alcoholic swab and some antibiotic ointment. "Arms out," she ordered.
With an annoyed eye roll, Daisy held her arms out obediently. She knew better than to argue. May started cleansing Daisy's self-inflicted wounds, watching carefully as she winced at every touch.
"Daisy, if you're planning on killing yourself-"
"That's not entirely it."
May looked up. Daisy wouldn't even look her in the eye. "Then what?"
Daisy looked away. May finished up with cleaning, and reached down to get some gauze and medical tape. She stopped, observing Daisy closely. There's something more. Something dark inside her.
"Simmons told me she's been giving you intel," May prompted, starting to wrap her arms. Daisy nodded hesitantly, but didn't elaborate. "Said you expressed interest in going back into the field."
"Yeah."
"You know, you won't be able to unless you show signs of improvement," she continued. "Which means you can't keep doing this to yourself."
"I have to."
May stopped. Focus, Melinda. "No, you don't," she said firmly. She took a step back after she finished dressing the wound. "Why are you doing this? What are you hiding?"
"I'm not hiding anything," Daisy responded indifferently, looking down at the bandages.
"You say you don't want to die," May started.
"Oh, I didn't say that," Daisy muttered, taking a couple steps towards her bed.
May grabbed her shoulder and turned her back around to face her."Daisy." At this point she could barely keep herself together. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she wasn't able to make any effort in hiding it. "We're trying to help you."
"I don't need it," Daisy scathingly responded through gritted teeth. "I don't deserve it."
"Would you stop with that!" May's voice grew louder, more desperate. "You're so focused on what you think you deserve that you're pushing away the people who are still rooting for you. You don't get to choose who cares about you!" She stopped, taking in a deep breath and letting it back out slowly. Composure, Melinda. "Daisy. You are valuable. We need you here with us. We need you alive." Daisy looked away. They stood quietly for a moment. "You can fight this, Daisy," May continued softly, stroking Daisy's shoulder with her thumb. Daisy's eyes filled with tears as she studied May's hand. Slowly, she reached up and removed it from her shoulder, taking a few steps back.
"That's what I'm doing," she replied, glaring at her former S.O. "You just don't see it my way. You never will."
May stood, staring defeatedly at Daisy. "This... this isn't the way," she murmured.
Daisy sat down on her bed, her expression unreadable. "Just know. Everything I do, now and going forward, it's what I have to do to make up for what I've done."
May opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again as Daisy looked down at the floor, chewing her fingernail, lost in thought. She was done speaking. May took the first aid kit, closed it up, and exited without a word.
She couldn't fight the tears anymore. They came streaming down her face as she stormed upstairs towards her quarters. As she approached, she heard a voice behind her.
"May," came the gentle, understanding voice of Coulson. She turned, locking eyes with him, and suddenly broke down sobbing. He approached, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on her head. Usually, she'd fight it. She hated attention, despised being touched. But in that moment, she hugged him back, crying in his chest.
"She's so far gone," she murmured after a bit. He let go, keeping a hand on her arm.
"I know."
"She's planning something," May continued, wiping her face, her cheeks growing warm with embarrassment at her sudden loss of control. She started regaining her composure. "I can tell she's going to do something. I don't know what yet. I thought she was planning a suicide, but now I'm not so sure."
Coulson pinched his temple. "I don't know what to do anymore May. Mace needs to start seeing results or our worst case scenario comes true." He paused. "I just want our Daisy back."
May nodded. "Yeah. Me too."
Day Twenty Three
"Coulson. I'm a reasonable man."
"Well Mace, you're a political man, I'm not sure they're the same thing."
Mace sighed, chuckling to himself. "Coulson, I gave you a month to get Project Perennial on track."
"Can we please stop calling it that?"
"I quite like it. I think it's catchy."
"I find it dehumanizing."
Coulson looked Mace straight in the eyes, almost challengingly. Mace just smiled his big, practiced, charismatic smile. "Agent Coulson, my point is, I'm a man who really likes to see results, especially if I'm pouring resources into something. And the fact of the matter is, Project Perennial isn't where it needs to be right now."
"The month isn't over yet. There's still time," Coulson argued. Mace shook his head.
"The data your agents have collected since the incident tell me that things have only gone downhill. You have to be real, Coulson. Project Perennial isn't going to get back on track in just a week. So either I go down there and assess things for myself, or you go down there and set her straight. And Coulson, trust me. I don't think you want me going down there."
Coulson studied Mace for a moment through narrowed eyes. Then, he nodded curtly. "I'll see what we can do."
As he exited Director Mace's office, May caught up with him, matching his pace. "How'd it go?"
"He's upset. Understandably so." Coulson frowned. "I hate to say it but he has a point. Daisy's only gotten more distant since the incident, and our time is running out."
"So what do we do?" May asked. "We can't just let him lock her away."
"I'm not sure," Coulson responded. "I'm headed down there right now to talk to her. Maybe if we explain the situation she'll be willing to listen."
"I'm coming with you," May insisted.
"No," Coulson said. May narrowed her eyes. "I think it's best if I do it one-on-one. It might put too much pressure on her if we're both there."
"...Fine," May reluctantly replied. "But fill me in. I want to know everything."
"Of course," Coulson said, as if it was obvious. "I'll catch up with you later."
As he made his way down to Daisy's containment unit, he mentally braced himself to deliver the news. As he approached, he stopped, closing his eyes and drawing a deep breath. It was painful to see her in the state she was in. He wanted so desperately to have the Daisy he knew and loved back. With a sigh, he punched in the code to the door and knocked to let her know he was entering.
She was sitting, as per usual, at the edge of her bed, staring at the floor.
Coulson looked down at the table by the door. Her lunch - a ham and cheese sandwich, some carrot sticks and hummus, and a bag of potato chips - sat, untouched. He looked over at her, then back down at the food, and back at her. She was starting to look small and frail, he noted. Picking up the plate, he made his way over to her.
"Mind if I sit?" he asked. She looked up slowly at him, then looked back down. He took that as a yes, and took a seat next to her on her bed. "I brought over your lunch. You know, just in case."
Her silence still scared him, but he knew she was listening. Daisy was always listening.
"You hungry?" Coulson went on. "I think the hummus is homemade. You know how sometimes the prepackaged stuff has that weird aftertaste, you know the one. I saw one of the other agents making this from scratch just yesterday. Looked really good, actually."
Daisy shook her head. It was subtle, but it was there. Coulson put the plate down behind them.
"Alright Daisy, I'm gonna have to level with you. Mace is upset. Like, really upset."
Daisy looked up, confused. "Mace?"
"New director... have you not met?" She shook her head. Coulson continued. "Okay... well, S.H.I.E.L.D. has a new director. Jeffery Mace. Real politician type of guy. He's an Inhuman, actually."
"Hmm." Daisy looked back down, picking at her fingernails.
"Well, that's bad news for you Daisy." Coulson studied her carefully for any sign of reaction, but got nothing. "He's been watching you carefully. No matter what I say, no matter what I do, he doesn't see you as an asset."
"I'm not."
"Well, maybe you don't think you are but you are. Mace sees you as a liability right now because of your current state. He gave us a month to 'fix' you, to restore you to your full potential, and time is running out."
Daisy chuckled wryly, shaking her head.
"Daisy, this is serious," Coulson pleaded. "If you don't start showing any signs of improvement, Mace is going to send you away and dismiss you from S.H.I.E.L.D. permanently."
"Smart man," Daisy snorted.
"Daisy-"
"I know, Coulson. Save it." Daisy stood, turning away from him. "Everyone's already given me the same shit every single day."
Coulson stood up. "That's because we care Daisy. You know that."
"Yeah?" Daisy spun around, and Coulson was taken aback by the anger in her eyes. "Well stop. You shouldn't. Leave me the hell alone." She stopped. Coulson wasn't sure what to say, but he didn't have the chance to think of something before she started again. "I didn't ask for your forgiveness. I didn't ask for any of this. I just want you all to forget about me. I don't deserve any of you." She looked away, and her tone softened. "Besides, it'll be better for you all in the long run anyway. I've hurt every single one of you."
"So what's your solution then?" Coulson challenged. "Push us all away, handle it on your own? Kill yourself? No. Not on my watch. I'm not gonna let you do that."
"Then don't watch," Daisy seethed. "I'm a goner anyway."
"Daisy..." Coulson didn't even know what to say. Anxiety bubbled in his chest. He wasn't prepared to lose the closest thing he had to a daughter. He wouldn't.
"I have to make up for what I've done. None of you understand, but it's what I have to do. And I'm not gonna let you all stand in the way of me doing that." Coulson stepped forward, starting to reach for her shoulder, but she swatted his hand away. "Stop trying to change my mind. I know what I have to do."
Coulson looked away. "Maybe I won't understand," he said. "But that doesn't mean I won't stop caring. We all care about you, and we're not tossing in the towel yet just because you've decided your life is worthless." He turned, starting towards the door. "I'm not going to stop trying Daisy. I'll get Mace to extend his deadline for you. I'll check on you every single day if it means there's any possibility to make you feel better."
"Don't."
"You don't get that choice," Coulson said, his hand on the door handle. "I don't know how to convince you that you're worth it but you are Daisy. I'll find a way. And I'll convince Mace too."
Daisy clenched her jaw, turning her back on Coulson. He sighed, shaking his head.
"Get some rest. I'll see you again tomorrow. And for God's sake, eat that damn sandwich."
Day Twenty Four
Antoine Triplett.
Charlie Hinton.
Andrew Garner.
Lincoln Campbell.
Lincoln Campbell...
Daisy sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly through her mouth. Her throat felt like sandpaper. Slowly, she stood from the edge of her bed and made her way over to the table. Her dinner sat, ice cold, untouched, next to a glass of water. Her chicken was precut into bite sized pieces, sitting next to a pile of rice and some broccoli. After the first week, she noticed that they started precutting everything, and stopped giving her knives. She shakily picked up the glass of water, taking a few small sips.
Her stomach cramped with sharp pains at the smell of food. Despite this, she put the glass of water back down and staggered back to her bed.
Lincoln Campbell.
Daisy's eyes felt dry. Her head spun, a dull, throbbing ache across her temples. She yawned, feeling like she could pass out at any time. Instead, she pulled her legs close to her chest and rested her head on her knees.
She couldn't sleep.
She'd see them again.
She saw them every time she closed her eyes.
Antoine Triplett.
Andrew Garner.
Lincoln Campbell.
Trip, who followed her in when she went through her transformation so long ago. Shattered, dead because of her.
Andrew, well, Lash, who died to save her from Hive.
It should have been me...
Charlie Hinton. She wanted to save him so bad. The future-seeing Inhuman never got to see his wife and daughter again... he died on the rooftop instead of Daisy.
And... Lincoln.
Not a day went by where she didn't think about Lincoln.
She'd made so many mistakes recently. And he paid for all of them. She'd hurt so many... and so many had died on her behalf. And yet, she wasn't the one who died. She was supposed to die. Lincoln stole that from her. He paid the price for all of what she'd done.
I have hurt... just about everyone on this team. May in Afterlife. Fitz and Mack just this month.
I don't deserve their pity.
Every day, Simmons came by to ask her how she was feeling. By the third or maybe fourth day, Daisy stopped feeling.
That was bad.
That couldn't happen.
She deserved to feel all of the pain she had caused everyone. And she should feel it constantly. Wake up every day knowing she was a terrible, horrible person. Wherever she went, destruction followed. Death followed.
Lincoln Campbell.
Charlie Hinton.
All of the blood she'd spilled. The lives lost because of her. The friends she'd hurt... those who fought for her... who died for her...
Lincoln Campbell.
Andrew Garner.
Charlie Hinton.
She would make herself feel every ounce of pain. She shouldn't be alive.
Daisy closed her eyes. I shouldn't be alive.
Lincoln Campbell.
Antoine Triplett.
Andrew Garner.
Charlie Hinton.
Everything felt so wrong. The way her friends looked at her, pitied her... she didn't deserve it. She didn't ask for forgiveness. She didn't want it.
She wished she was dead. She thought about all the ways she could do it. Putting a bullet in her own head. Slicing her wrist so deep she bled out. Using her powers to propel herself up and up and up, and then hitting the concrete headfirst. But dying would be too easy. Dying would be a luxury. She'd stop feeling the weight of what she'd done. And, if she died right now, she'd die a criminal.
She'd be no better than Ward.
No.
She needed to pay for what she did.
Daisy let go of her legs, letting them dangle off the bed. She studied her arms, now a scarred, ugly mess. A week ago May had dressed her wounds, but a day later she'd ripped the bandages off and reopened all of them to feel the pain again. But she knew she was doing no good sticking around, punishing herself this way. Simmons was giving her frequent updates now on what was going on upstairs. Daisy knew the Watchdogs were out there, wreaking havoc among the Inhumans. And she owed Charlie Hinton's family. She promised him she'd take care of them.
She owed him that much.
She owed everyone.
She stood up, starting to pace back and forth, but the room was spinning. She knew it was because she was dehydrated and starving and overtired. But she couldn't stomach food. Even the thought of eating... her empty stomach reminded her that she was nothing, she deserved nothing. The pain helped her cope.
But...
She looked back over at the table, her stomach growling loudly. If I have any hope in carrying out my plan... I will need my strength. Reluctantly, she stumbled over to the table and carried her plate back to the bed. As she took a small bite of her rice, she started working out her gameplan.
Simmons had mentioned an Inhuman sighting in New Rochelle. Something about a woman with some sort of water bending abilities who the Watchdogs were after. Apparently the team was going to fly in first thing tomorrow morning to try and relocate the woman before it was too late. And if she left early enough to get on the plane undetected...
Hungrily, Daisy gobbled down the rest of the food on her plate. She sighed, disgusted with herself. I didn't earn this... but I'll make up for it soon. For now, she needed to get ready.
Standing up, she made her way to the door of her containment module. Glancing at the time, she knew it was too late for any operations to be going on, so she figured she could make her way up to her old quarters, grab what she needed, and stow it onto Zephyr One so it was one less thing getting in her way in the morning.
Of course, that was assuming they'd be taking Zephyr One, which she figured they would be.
Sliding her hand in her pocket, her fingers clasped the small pocketknife she'd retrieved weeks ago. Relieved to know it was still there, she punched in the code and let herself out of her containment unit.
As she crept upstairs towards the quarters, she started making a mental list of what she'd need. My backpack, of course. My laptop, my wallet, maybe a change of clothes... and the wooden bird. Once she was in New Rochelle, her first priority was figuring out how to help the Hintons. Then, she'd focus on the Watchdogs and helping get Inhumans to safety.
Tomorrow, it was all over.
Tomorrow, she'd finally leave S.H.I.E.L.D. and be able to make things right.
Tomorrow, she would start atoning for her sins.
As Daisy slipped into her old bunk, she stopped, a sudden worry crossing her mind. They're gonna search for me when I leave. She gritted her teeth. Of course they would. They've been trying relentlessly for weeks to pretend like she hadn't done anything wrong, that the Daisy they used to know was still here. But that Daisy was gone. She wasn't innocent anymore. She'd done too much, caused too much harm...
But maybe once she left, maybe they'd finally realize what an awful person she was.
Who was going to take it the hardest? Not May. Andrew died for Daisy, and May loved Andrew, even when he became Lash. Once Daisy left, May would finally be able to see that Daisy was responsible for his death. Hopefully, she'd hate her for it. And not Mack or Fitz either. Daisy hoped that they would be able to see how terrible she'd treated them once she was gone. Maybe they'd finally hate her too.
That left Simmons and Coulson. Simmons, while she was a massive sweetheart, was busy. Daisy knew her departure would only benefit Simmons - she'd said so herself, wasting an hour on Daisy's case every day was putting her behind in her work. And Daisy knew Simmons was incredibly important to the team. She and Fitz were an unstoppable pair. Daisy felt a rush of guilt knowing that wasting valuable time on her behalf must be so detrimental to their work, and that they could spend that hour together like they should.
Coulson. Coulson would take it the hardest.
Daisy stopped. Suddenly, the thought of leaving Coulson behind weighed heavily on her chest. The first one to ever see something in her, believe in her. He stood by her through everything. He was the one she turned to when she needed advice or a shoulder to cry on. He was the one who pulled her from the alley, gave her life a purpose, gave her something to believe in, gave her a reason to matter...
Stop that.
You're nothing.
You don't deserve his respect.
Not after what you've done.
Grunting, she zipped up her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. He shouldn't care about her after everything that happened. If he did, he was a fool.
Admittedly, ever since the incident she'd wanted nothing more than to be with her found family. But she knew it was selfish to feel that way. She knew she needed to earn that, even if they didn't see it yet. And right now, it felt easier to push them away, make them hate her the way she hated herself, then to watch them care for and pity her. At least, if they hated her like they should, she could feel less selfish.
Some day they'd understand.
Daisy was going to die. She wanted to. She had to. There was no way she was going to live with herself after everything she'd done. But she couldn't die until she did some good and balanced the scales.
And if she died protecting people, making things right, saving lives, even better.