The Next Day

Everyone was sick except for Daisy and she was having a hard time taking care of all of them. At least Jemma was almost well enough to help Daisy. Daisy was walking down the hall carrying a bowl of soup when a sudden wave of dizziness hit her. She placed one hand on the wall, steadying herself.

"I can't get sick," she said to herself. "I need to take care of everyone."

The dizziness passed and she walked to Fitz's room to give him some soup.

"How are you feeling?" Daisy asked him.

"Better," Fitz said, taking the bowl of soup. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Daisy said.

She went to leave, but on her way out the door, a wave of pain washed over her. She held her head.

"Daisy?" Fitz asked. "You okay?"

"I'm fine,' Daisy replied. I have to be, she thought.

She left the room. She went back to the kitchen to make some more soup. When she got there, she was surprised to see Coulson making a sandwich.

"AC?" Daisy asked. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"I was hungry," he replied.

"I was going to make you some soup," Daisy said.

"I'm tired of soup."

He finished making his sandwich and began to make another one.

"What's this one for?"

"Melinda."

It took Daisy a minute to realize that he meant May.

"I didn't know you had a baby," she said, without thinking about it.

"You know?" He asked.

"May told me."

Coulson sighed.

"I suppose it was always going to come out."

"Do you know who took her? Your baby, I mean."

"No."

"The poor girl."

"Yes."

Coulson coughed.

"You have to go back to bed," Daisy said.

"Let me finish making this sandwich."

Daisy let him and he went to May's room. She felt tired and yawned.

"Maybe I should go take a nap," she said to herself. "I'll wake up and feel better."

She headed to her room. Her head was pounding. She felt like she was going to faint. She tried to steady herself against her doorway. It was too late. She fainted before she could reach it. The next thing Daisy knew, she was in her bed. Something cool and wet was on her forehead. She tried to sit up, but immediately fell back down. She groaned.

"Don't try to sit up," a voice said.

She immediately recognized the voice as Jemma.

"What happened?" Daisy asked.

"I found you on the floor," Jemma said, coming into view. "I was heading to the kitchen. When I found you, I called for help and Fitz and Coulson came running."

"They shouldn't be running," Daisy muttered.

"Anyway, Coulson helped me get you in here."

"Is he still here?"

"No, he went back to bed."

"May's bed, probably," Daisy said.

"May's bed?" Jemma asked. "Are you saying that Coulson and May are.."

"Yes."

"Oh my goodness. Now I owe Fitz ten dollars."

"You bet on this?"

Jemma turned a bright red.

"Yes."

Daisy began to laugh, but it came out more as a cough.

"Shh," Jemma said. "You need to rest."

"I can't rest," Daisy said. "I need to take care of everyone."

"You are in no shape to take care of anyone," the scientist said. "Anyways, I am well enough to take care of all of you with the help of Coulson and Fitz. They are now well enough to help the others."

"But-"

"No buts. You are not taking care of anyone but yourself. Is that clear?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Jemma continued to apply the wet washcloth on Daisy's forehead. It felt good. Jemma began to hum something that was strangely familiar.

"What's that you're humming?" Daisy asked.

"Oh, nothing. Just a little song."

"What's it called?"

"Oh, surely you know it. It's Hush Little Baby."

Daisy wracked her brain. Where had she heard that song before? It wasn't at the orphanage, that was for sure. It must have been at one of her foster homes. But which one?

"Did someone sing it to you once?" Jemma asked.

"Yes," Daisy said. "Well, at least, I think so. I don't remember exactly how it goes. Could you sing it for me?"

"If you really want me to."

"I do."

Hush, little Baby, don't say a word,
Jemma's gonna buy you a Mockingbird.

And if that mockingbird don't sing,
Jemma's gonna buy you a diamond ring.

And if that diamond ring turns brass,
Jemma's gonna buy you a looking glass.

And if that looking glass gets broke,
Jemma's gonna buy you a billy goat,

And if that billy goat get cross,
Jemma's gonna buy you a rocking horse.

And if that rocking horse turns over,
Jemma's gonna buy you a dog named Rover.

And if that dog named Rover won't bark,
Jemma's gonna buy you a horse and a cart.

And if that horse and cart fall down,
You'll still be the sweetest little baby in town.

Daisy lay there, as though in a trance and listened to the familiar words, but, more importantly, the familiar voice. Why did she recognize that voice and that song? Had Jemma sung for her a long time ago?

"Are you asleep?" Jemma asked, pulling Daisy from her thoughts.

"No," Daisy replied. "Have you sung this before?"

"Yes."

"To who?"

Jemma looked down.

"My sister."

"Your sister? You have a sister?"

"Not anymore."

"What happened to her?"

"She was kidnapped when she was three."

Daisy could barely believe her ears. Another child was stolen? Jemma had had a sister?

"What was her name?" Daisy asked.

"Mary," Jemma said.

Daisy smiled.

"Funny. That was my name until I was five years old. I hated that name."

"That was your name?" Jemma asked, staring at the sick agent.

"Yes."

"You never told me that."

"You never told me you had a sister," Daisy shot back.

"Touché."

"What was her full name?" Daisy asked.

"Why?" Jemma asked.

"I'm just curious."

"Her name was Mary Sue Simmons."

Daisy started to shake. So hard that, she accidentally made the glass of water on the nightstand tip over.

"Daisy?" Jemma asked. "What's the matter?"

She took a few deep breaths. The shaking subsided.

"My name was Mary Sue," Daisy said. "Was she a foster sister?"

"There's no way that you and Mary could be the same person," Jemma said.

"Why not?" Daisy asked.

"Because, statistically speaking, the odds are nearly impossible that I would meet my sister again, let alone work with her."

"Was she a foster sister?"

"She was adopted."

"What was her last name before she was adopted? Was it, let me guess, Poots?"

Jemma's mouth hung open.

"How do you know that?"

"Because that was my last name. I remembered you singing to me. The same song you just sang a few minutes ago. Instead of Mamma, you said Jemma. I remember you telling me stories. The one I remember the most was about a dragon. How did it go? There once was a dragon, you see... I don't remember the rest."

Jemma's eyes filled with tears.

"Who was as polite as you or me," she continued.

"Yes! That's how it went. Jemma. You're my sister!"