The thing about Skye
She needs cuddles (Fluff)
Simmons wakes so subtly, the transition from sleep to wake is as seamless as awake to sleep. She doesn't even know why she's suddenly awake in her dark room, and her arm instinctively reaches out to search along the sheets.
She instantly relaxes when her hand comes into contact with her best friend's chest. She can hear him now that more of her faculties are coming into awareness- his slow breathing- and feel each gusting exhale against her cheek.
It's quiet; everything seemed normal in Jemma's original, sleep slogged, inspection, but something woke her up.
She sits up, taking a more cursory look of the room, and her eyes land on the door- the dim emergency lights from the hallway coming in through a gap in it. She doesn't startle at the vaguely human shadow hesitating in the crack.
"Daisy?" Jemma whispers, some of her grogginess obvious in her voice. "Are you coming in, or what?"
"Sorry," she whispers back, and then quickly closes the door, sending the room back into pitch darkness.
Jemma hears more than sees Daisy crossing the room, and then the end of the bed dips under the added weight. She reaches out blindly, and then curls her hands into soft fabric when a body bumps into her fingers.
She gives a small tug, and Daisy settles down in the bed between her and Fitz. Jemma cards her fingers through soft hair with a sleepy hum, and then wraps her arms around her favorite inhuman.
"Is this good, or do you want something else?"
Daisy touches Jemma's arms lightly with her fingertips, sending tickling vibrations through her skin wherever she traces.
"No, this is good," Daisy sighs, and then reaches out towards Fitz to tug him closer. The boy wiggles his way further into the grip, with barely a stutter of his breathing, until Daisy is well and truly cocooned between them.
"Y'kay Dais?" Fitz slurs.
"Yeah," she sighs, combing her fingers through his short, curly hair, and lets out a reverberating purr. "Just needed this."
…
May sits with barely retained patience, but Jemma is far too used to the irritation and complaints of her teammates. You could say she's grown immune to it. If they don't want her fussing, they shouldn't come back from the field injured.
"It's fine, Simmons," May snaps, dodging Jemma's gloved hand. "I can do it myself."
"You will not do it yourself," Jemma snaps, rarely so stern in talking to the intimidating specialist- except when it comes to these situations. "You all seem to completely disregard the fact that I'm not a medical doctor half the time, so let me be your damn doctor. Now, sit still."
The door bursts open, and she doesn't suppress the sigh of exasperation at it being Daisy. Of course it's Daisy. She always shows up as soon as any of them get back from ops they don't go on together.
Daisy doesn't pause in the doorway, or wait for Simmons to scold her. She just scrambles across the room and up into the hospital cot.
"Wait- Daisy- Don't-" May's protests break off into a sigh as the inhuman settles herself into her lap, cheek pressing into her hip, and the damn purring starts up. It's almost like a weapon that she shamelessly uses, now.
Jemma watches the super secret special agent melt under the power of Daisy's affection, and doesn't even bother suppressing a smile as she reaches out again. This time, May lets her dab at the admittedly small laceration on her temple with a relenting roll of her eyes.
…
Bobbi is a bit surprised to be opening her eyes. She shouldn't be, because she's been waking up for the past week, but she tends to forget that when she sleeps. Images of Ward rise to the surface of her mind, hearing her team come for her- Hunter coming for her- and knowing that the first person through the door is going to die.
She knew it was going to be Hunter coming through the door.
The gunshot.
And then she wakes up again. In a hospital bed, but she wakes. She keeps expecting pain, and it's there, but it's a dull, distant, ache drowned out with a shit ton of drugs. The good kind, too.
She feels groggy and tired, but not loopy, luckily.
She realizes, after a moment, that there is a new weight settled on Bobbi's stomach. A body in the bed with her. She lulls her head to grin down at who she thinks would be her on-again/off-again-boyfriend-sometimes-husband, but her smile drops off as she catches sight of Skye.
There are dark smudges under the girl's eyes, like there normally is, and it looks like she hasn't slept since disappearing. She's back now, though, apparently. And she's curled around Bobbi like Bobbi wasn't part of the team hunting her down in those woods outside that cabin.
Bobbi turns her head, and spots Hunter there, where she originally expected him. He's still in the chair beside her bed, as he's been all week, with his hand linked with hers and head pillowed in his arms- sound asleep.
She turns back to Skye, looking down at the girl who is suddenly more. Who she and Mack had said hurtful things about in their fear. And, yet, here she is, wrapped around Bobbi like nothing happened.
She wonders how long Skye has been back.
"I know you're awake," Bobbi whispers, because Skye doesn't sleep. She doesn't twitch. One eye just slowly opens and looks up at her with so much sorrow. Guilt rots in Bobbi's chest, and she reaches out with her free hand to pet along her back. "I'm so s-"
"Me too," she cuts Bobbie off, and then buries her face into the uninjured part of her stomach. Even curled around her, Skye is very careful about where her limbs lay. Boddi's hand clenches in Skye's shirt.
…..
Lips bruise and teeth clash together in a mix of anger and love that always implodes when it's left to fester long enough. Hunter is almost dislodged from the awkward back seat as Bobbi quickly sits up and begins to bite at his neck.
Not to be outdone, he shoves her along the bench until he has her pushed up against the SUV door. She gasps against his shoulder, making a warm shiver go down his spine and pool low in his gut.
They are good at this. Bobbi Morse might be the most infuriating woman alive (ignoring that she likely feels the same about him), but he loves her. Even through all the anger and frustration and sometimes a little hate, that's never not been the case. Even through all the fighting, they work. They love. They fall back together.
The SUV door is yanked open.
Luckily, it wasn't the one he had Bobbi pinned against. And that no clothes have been shed, yet.
Both agents freeze and look toward the open door with caught expressions.
"Really?" Daisy huffs, glaring in at them, balefully, with a blanket clutched in one hand and deeper bruising under her eyes than normal- which means she's having another bout of trouble sleeping (which also means that her normal scattered hour or two has dropped to absolutely nothing).
There is an inescapable undercurrent of real irritation in her voice (that can only come from the sleep deprived) as she stares at them.
Then she huffs, "Screw it," scowl deepening. And she climbs into the back seat with them, slamming the door behind her. "Move over," she grumbles, and then burrows between them.
"Wait- Daisy-"
"We'll just go-"
"No," she snaps, wrapping her arms around Bobbi's waist and reaching back blindly behind her to drag Hunter back down so he's laying against her back. And his… previous excitement has not magically gone away, and it's now pressed against Daisy's ass, but she doesn't react to it at all.
Hunter looks up with wide eyes, meeting Bobbi's over the grumpy inhuman's head. They stare at each other a moment before Bobbi snorts, and then her humor is rocking all of them because Daisy has them using her as a pillow.
Daisy still has a scowl on her face even with her eyes resolutely closed, and it deepens as she reaches up blindly, smacking the spy in the face as she fumbles to smother her mouth.
Bobbi calms after a moment, and Hunter watches as an immense affection softens his ex-wife's eyes. She reaches up, gently removing the hand over her mouth, before carding her fingers gently through Daisy's hair.
"Okay. Go to sleep, Daisy. We got you."
The creases across Daisy's face soften, her arm falls limp toward the plastic floor mats, and she lets out an almost inaudible whine of relief.
She's asleep in the next second and Hunter resigns himself to not moving for as long as Daisy is able to sleep, no matter how uncomfortable he is.
He sighs, reaching out, and Bobbi catches his hand in her unoccupied one, tangling their fingers together.
This isn't the passionate, slightly illicit, romp he was looking forward to, but this is fine. It's nice, even. He and Bobbi don't often do nice things together outside of sex. They don't do soft and squishy and sleepy cuddles that don't also have them covered in sweat and post orgasmic bliss. But he thinks he might like to.
…
Mack crosses his arms as he looks down at the new, skittish, inhuman. Daisy is all fluttering hands, beside him, trying to come across as professional and in-charge and calm, but Mack knows her. She's just as nervous as the metal bending man (and isn't that something- when they're living in a world like this) in front of them, if not substantially more excited.
"So she's the greeting party, and you're the muscle."
"Believe me: she's the muscle," Mack responds, a coil of amusement going through him that he has had practice hiding by this point.
"He looks big and intimidating, but inside he's just a soft little, fluffy little teddy bear."
Mack blinks as Daisy ducks under his crossed arm, nudging it to the side with her head, and then she's pressing her cheek against his ribs like an affectionate cat as if to prove just how cuddly he is.
All that she needs to do is start purring, but she only does that when she sleeps and still likely doesn't even know that she can.
Mack sighs, resigning himself that she's going to just keep trying to take away the automatic intimidating power his height advantage normally gives him. He just doesn't seem as scary being cuddled by a small, pretty, part-alien, girl.
Which is the point, he guesses.
Despite his exasperation, there is undeniably something soft in his chest as he looks affectionately down at the top of her head. He's only grown more fond of the touch starved girl since becoming her partner.
Daisy pulls away after an awkward stretch of silence, seeming to realize that the foux-professional-agent she was going for has slipped.
"So how are you feeling?" she asks.
….
"If no one has any more questions, then you are dismissed."
Coulson watches apathetically as all the important department heads rise from their seats and slowly start making their way to the door. He isn't unaware of their incredulous, slightly judging, stares; he just doesn't care for them.
He glances down, takes in Skye where she is- on the ground, clinging to his legs- face buried against the side of his knee. He cards a hand through her hair again.
When she came bursting into the meeting halfway through, he didn't even blink as she crawled half under the table with a mumbled apology as she clutched onto him. The one word 'Sorry' is the only thing she's uttered since burrowing down, but she hadn't even needed to say that, really.
Coulson wasn't going to send her away. Especially not when she's in one of these clingy moods and there are darker circles under her eyes than normal.
Usually when she clings, though, she can wait until he's not in the middle of a meeting.
Once the door closes behind the last person, Coulson pats the girl on her arm.
"Skye? Do you want to move to the lounge?" He has paperwork to do, but this is more important. He can just stay up late with her later tonight and get it done then, once she's feeling better.
She's quiet for a long moment, before she nods against his legs. "It's Daisy, Sir," comes her muffled mumble, and Coulson blinks.
"Right. Sorry." He will get it right someday.
He waits for her to let go, so they can go somewhere more comfortable, but her grip only seems to grow tighter. After a moment, he realizes she's not going to let go- that she can't bring herself to, yet, so he goes back to petting her hair.
"Or we can stay right here. This is fine, too. Whatever you want."
"Sorry," she mumbles again, face still hiding from him, and her hands curl even tighter around the fabric of his pants. He'll have to iron them later, but that's okay.
"Don't apologize. This is fine. We'll take as long as you need."
…
Mack looks over the wall of tools, searching for the one he needs. Someone has been rearranging them, and he feels irritated. He knows that he hasn't gotten to work on engines in a while, but why can't people put things back where they belong?
He doesn't pay attention to the sound of approaching feet until two arms wrap around him from behind, hands fisting in his shirt, and clinging.
He startles, and then relaxes as he looks down to see the familiar pale arms that normally cling to him. He rolls his eyes at himself.
"Daisy?" he questions. "Everything all right?"
"Yeah, just… give me a minute."
They stand there for a while. Definitely more than a minute, but Mack doesn't mind. He just rubs his hand over her arms and tries to offer any comfort he can.
Finally, she's able to loosen her hold and step away.
"Okay, I'm good. Sorry," she apologizes, and Mack turns to face her. She looks tired, but she always looks tired.
"Don't apologize," Mack says, because, yeah, most people don't cling- especially in a work environment- but that's just Daisy. From what he can understand, deduced from only what he's observed, Daisy didn't have a lot of people to hug until she got to SHIELD. "I like hugs," he then goes on to admit, because after he hit his growth spurt, and filled out, most people were only intimidated by him. His only hugs came from the closest of friends and his family.
He opens his arms in a clear offer, because being able to hug back is always better, and Daisy is in his arms in an instant- like it took everything in her just to pull herself back the first time.
…
There is an agony coiling in Elena. Curling and writhing and burning away her insides. Her arms throb, only they can't because they're gone, but she swears they're still there sometimes. If she doesn't think about it.
It's hard not to think about it, because even with all the painkillers coursing through her bloodstream, she can still feel a pulsing, throbbing, beat in them.
Daisy shakes her hand, sitting across from Elena on her hospital bed and fanning out cards for Elena to see. "Come on. Which one?" Her own cards are held to her chest, as if Elena cares what is on them.
A cold fury is burning away at her insides, and she knows that her friend doesn't deserve it, but it blisters and blackens and consumes her.
"Second to the right," Elena responds dully, and watches as Daisy sets her own cards down to select Elena's for her- only, for the third time since she commandeered the end of Elena's bed with the stack of cards, Daisy reaches in the wrong direction.
Elena snaps. Her fury bursts outwards. She wants to rage, to throw things, to shake the girl by the shoulders, but Elena doesn't have hands or arms- can't throw the stupid deck across the room any more than she can hug someone, and it burns.
Elena kicks out, feet getting caught in the blankets but still managing to disrupt the cards- still managing to make Daisy flinch.
"Don't you have something better to do? Get out of here- go be useful! You've got two hands- go use them! Don't just sit around here babysitting me-"
Daisy lunges toward Elena. She snags her head between two hands, and she almost thinks the girl is going to kiss her or something. Only, she doesn't. Daisy presses her cheek against hers and Elena's body floods with sensation. Daisy presses closer, wrapping her arms around her, pressing her hands against any available skin, and she lets loose a rumbling purr that settles under Elena's prickling nerves.
Oh.
Elena aches at the contact. The touch of skin on skin. Since she woke up, everyone has been tip-toeing on eggshells and being so very careful around her. Daisy isn't gentle. Daisy pushes into her space and molds against her, and Elena sobs.
Because she hadn't realized she expected to never feel sensations again, until Daisy is suddenly offering a whole lot to her. She turns her head and tries to press her face closer to Daisy's, and Daisy continues the pulsing vibrations that reach into Elena's aching bones and settles something in them.
….
It really is an accident, or more likely a coincidence, that has them all in the lounge. It's a rare thing for them to all be together when not being briefed on a mission or for 'forced family fun' that Coulson insists on every now and then when it's particularly quiet.
It's one of those days that are particularly quiet, when the end of the world isn't just around the corner, but Coulson hasn't called 'family game night' yet. They just happen to… drift together with nothing pressing hurrying their productivity.
Everyone, that is, except Daisy.
Coulson has drifted into the kitchen to cook something up, FitzSimmons are in one of the arm chairs together, cuddling as they squabble away about some invention, Mack, Hunter, and Bobbi have picked up an Xbox racing game in their boredom, and May is watching over them all like a dragoness over her clutch.
Only Daisy is missing, and though Coulson hasn't officially dubbed it 'family bonding time,' it's kind of devolved into it naturally and it's wrong that she's not there.
Like thoughts of Daisy summoned her, she appears in the walkway of the lounge, staring down at her open computer as she types a string of code one handed. She freezes when Mack gives a cry of victory, throwing his hands and controller into the air as Hunter and Bobbi shove and scream at each other. Her head jerks up, taking in the full room with wide eyes.
Then she discards her computer (possibly in the middle of some black site hack) onto the kitchen counter with a scowl that looks more like a pout.
"No one told me it was game night," Daisy huffs before climbing over the back of the couch.
Hunter gives a shout of indignation as he's jostled and his view of the screen is slightly obscured, but May only shifts her leg out of the way of any wild limbs.
The couch really is only meant for three people, but adding Daisy makes it five. She gives no care about the cramped space- she actually seems to revel in it as she snuggles her head down into May's lap and drapes the rest of her body across three others.
Daisy closes her eyes, soaking in the warmth of the lounge, the sounds and vibrations of all the people she loves in the same room and having fun. It's these moments that give her a few, fleeting, moments of a rare peace that actually touches her in her soul.
May automatically takes up combing through the inhuman's hair as soon as she lands in her lap, and a thrill goes through the specialist as a loud hum bursts from Daisy's throat.
Daisy blinks at the sensation for a moment, rubs at her chest with a confused frown, and then lets the anomaly go as she settles back down. May, though, suppresses a grin, because Daisy purred. Daisy's awake and she purred. She feels safe with all of them- she's happy- content.
May is very glad she took up Coulson's offer and left her cubicle.
A/N: The FLUFF! So, what do you guys think?
~Silver~