Hi! I hope everyone is having a lovely week. I meant to post this chapter earlier, but I went to visit family last minute and didn't have my computer. Also, this is totally random but...today is my birthday! :D
Coulson awoke to a soft, faint thump of feet that came from his bedroom. Rolling over on the uncomfortable sofa, he squeezed his eyes shut to avoid the glaring light seeping through the windows. A pair of small feet quietly pitter-pattered across the wood floor, and suddenly, Coulson felt a cautious tap on his shoulder. The previous night's events washed over him slowly like waves as he regained consciousness. Sitting up, he squinted at the harsh daylight that bathed the room. Finally, his eyes landed on his guest, who had clearly just woken up as well. Daisy's hair was tangled and knotty, and the oversized t-shirt hanging off her shoulder. Her thumb was stuck instinctively in her mouth.
"Good morning," Coulson mumbled, practically incoherent. "Do you want some breakfast?" He glanced up at the clock on the wall and quickly rubbed his eyes to make sure he was reading it properly. "12:45? Huh. Well, do you want some lunch, then?" Daisy nodded shyly.
Phil stood up and walked across the tiny room to the kitchen. He pulled white bread, peanut butter, and strawberry preserves out of the cabinets and grabbed two plates out of the drawer. "After we eat, we're going to drive into town and go to the police station to figure out where you belong, okay?"
Daisy nodded, sitting on the couch and drawing her knees to her chest. Coulson turned on the radio, hoping to break the silence and make her feel more at ease. Soft country music flowed through the room as he worked. Phil wasn't sure if the four-year-old like bread crusts, so he cut them off and then sliced the sandwich into four triangles. He also washed some baby carrots and added them to the plate. Satisfied with his work, Phil carried the plates to the couch and sat down. Daisy inhaled her sandwich and gnawed at a carrot before abandoning it.
"You don't like carrots?" Coulson asked.
"Too crunchy," Daisy's face wrinkled, and the older man chuckled. Noting his laughter, Daisy broke into a small laugh, her big, brown eyes meeting Coulson's for the first time.
Beaming at the small success, Coulson started to discuss his plan for taking her to the station, but before he could even open his mouth, the heavens opened up. Knowing he'd have to take a one-lane dirt road for most of the drive, Coulson knew a trip into town wouldn't be happening today. With the heavy rain from the past 24 hours, the road would be dangerous, especially in his tiny Honda.
"We were going to go to town today to get you some help, but it looks like that can't happen," Coulson told Daisy. "So we're going to be inside today, okay?"
"Okay," Daisy replied.
"Why don't we see what you remember about yourself and how you got here?" Phil suggested, shifting himself so he was facing towards her on the couch. "What do you remember?"
Daisy frowned, her thumb in her mouth. "Got lost."
The gears in the ex-officer's head began to turn. Perhaps she had been on a walk or trip with her parents and got separated. Or maybe, she had been kidnapped, and a blow to the head had resulted in her amnesia.
"How did you get lost?" he asked.
The four-year-old merely shrugged.
"Do you remember where you got lost?"
Daisy curled her lip in concentration before finally saying, "No."
Coulson sighed, desperate to figure out something. Pursuing his kidnapping theory, he asked, "Did someone take you?"
"I dunno," Daisy replied, her brow furrowing as she grew frustrated. It was too many questions with answers she couldn't remember.
"Did someone hurt you?"
"Don't 'memember." Tears of exasperation filled Daisy's brown eyes.
"Did something happen to you?"
"Dunno," Daisy's face crumpled.
Phil threw his hands up in defeat. "You have to give me something!"
Immediately, Daisy burst into tears. Phil bit his lip; he'd gone too far. The kid was alone, scared, and couldn't remember anything. He had to go slow. Once again, he recalled his training as an officer and lowered his voice to nearly a whisper. "Hey, hey- Daisy, don't cry. I'm sorry for pushing you. Do you forgive me?"
Daisy curled up and put her head on her knees. Her entire frame shook as she sniffled.
"Daisy?" No response. "Is it ok if I touch you?"
A muffled "no" was heard. Even though she couldn't see, Coulson held his hands up and shifted away from her a bit. "Ok then, Daisy. I won't."
After a few minutes, Daisy raised her tear-streaked face from her knees. Her lower lip quivered and her eyes were red. Coulson's heart broke. God, he was a monster.
"I'm so sorry, Daisy," he swallowed. "Do you forgive me?"
"S'okay," she mumbled. A few seconds later, she added, "I'm hungry."
Coulson chuckled. "Well, that can be easily remedied. Let's go look and see what I have."
Daisy obediently followed him to the kitchen, and Coulson opened a cabinet. He held up a bag of chips, but the four-year-old wasn't interested. Trying again, he found a container of nuts, to which Daisy made a face. Phil reached to the far back, and his hand discovered a carton of Oreos. From behind him, Daisy gasped.
"You like these?" Coulson asked, turning around to face her. Daisy nodded. Coulson motioned for her to follow him out the door to the front porch, and she trailed contentedly after him. He eased into a rocking chair while Daisy clambered up into the chair next to Phil's. He opened the Oreos and handed her one, which she popped into her mouth.
"'Fanks," she spewed, her mouth already filled with cookie.
"You are very welcome," Coulson replied. He relaxed back in his chair. They remained silent for a moment, admiring the rain's melodic fall.
"Why does it rain?" the little girl pondered aloud.
"Well, my mom used to say that it meant God was crying up in Heaven."
"But that's sad!" Daisy objected. She dusted the crumbs off her small hands, and Coulson handed her another cookie. How many Oreos should a young child have? God, if he could keep her alive until they could go into town, it would be an absolute miracle.
"Then why do you think it rains?"
"'Cuz then we can play in it," Daisy answered, as if Coulson had asked her the simplest question known to man.
"Can't argue with that logic."
Coulson wordlessly handed Daisy another cookie and grabbed one for himself as well. They ate their cookies synonymously and silently, just watching the rain fall and rumble as it hit the cabin roof. Coulson couldn't help it: he burst into a grin. He wasn't even sure what he was grinning at. Maybe it was the way the dark Oreo crumbs had stuck to Daisy's upper lip, giving her a thick, black mustache, or the way she watched the rain fall with the face of someone whose innocence the world hadn't yet stolen, or maybe it was the utter absurdity of the whole situation: a thirty-seven-year-old recluse and the four-year-old girl who couldn't remember anything about herself except the fact that she liked Oreos cross paths and now sit on a porch watching the rain and eating stale cookies.
And for a split moment, Coulson swore that out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rosalind, watching Daisy with the biggest smile on her face.
Hope you enjoyed! I meant for this chapter to be longer, but then it wasn't…