Summary: Twelve years later, on the eve of her Terrigenesis, Grant has a talk with his daughter.

Mountains in the Shadows

Twelve years later

Haylie can't sleep – which isn't surprising, really, since her life is going to change the next day. She is going to change – she is going to go through the Mist.

Which is, let's be honest, a lot less epic than the name suggests. There is nothing mythical or fantasy-worthy about the process – it is barely more than being locked up in a secure room with a Terrigen crystal and the instruction that you should smash it against the floor. And then boom, magic happens, and you turn into a full-fledged Inhuman.

Haylie sighs.

It's not like it's all news to her – she has known that she is an Inhuman all her life. She grew up watching her mom use her powers almost absent-mindedly around the house, and she knew she could have the same thing since she was six, when she was evaluated and found to be a suitable candidate for the Terrigenesis. Ever since then, she has been trained for this, mentally and physically. And she wants this – this is her legacy, and it's her decision to go through the Mist, nobody else's.

And yet now, on the eve of her Terrigenesis, she is not that sure anymore.

Curling up on the windowsill, she gazes into the distance. Apart from a few lanterns in the gardens, there are no lights outside save for the moon and the stars, so the far away mountains that give such a breathtaking view during the day now are lost in the veil of the night. There's some parallel here, she is sure, a parallel between the mountains and her situation, but before she could figure it out, there's a soft knock on the door.

"Come in!" she calls, turning towards the door. When she sees who her visitor is, she breaks into a smile. "Hi, dad. What brings you here?"

Grant silently makes his way to the window and leans against the windowsill.

"I just wanted to see how you are faring, princess" he says, putting one of the beers he brought in down, and twisting the cap off of the other. That one he offers to Haylie, who looks at it with mock indignation.

"Honestly, dad? Beer? What do you think of me? I'm a minor!"

Grant simply chuckles, shaking his head; out of his daughters Haylie took the most after him physically, but her personality was so much like Skye's sometimes that it almost hurt.

"Just take it. And let me pretend it's the first time you are having some, okay?"

"Deal," Haylie smirks, taking the bottle and taking a sip. It's pleasantly cold, bringing some much needed relief in the heat that somehow remained amongst the houses of Lai Shi even after the sun set.

"So?" Grant asks after a few seconds. Haylie only lowers her head, resting her chin on her knee.

"I'm kind of a… mess," she admits, turning her gaze towards the valley. "I'm just scared a little bit, I guess."

"Scared of what?"

She shrugs.

"I don't know… This whole thing is so uncertain. Unpredictable."

"That's for sure."

"What if I won't be able to control it?"

Grant takes his time to answer – he sips from his own beer and takes a deep breath before he says anything.

"As I see it, most of you have problems controlling your powers at first. Your mom had problems with it."

In spite of herself, Haylie chuckles.

"She was really bad at it at first, right?"

"Really, really bad," Grant agrees, smiling, the time and distance making the memories of the difficult time amusing. "We didn't really know what was happening, and we made a lot of mistakes. But we – she – got through it. She learned how to control it, like everybody else does. You will, too."

Haylie nods, deep in thought.

"And what if…" she says after a while, still not meeting her father's gaze. "What if the Change completely messes me up, and I turn out to be hideous?" It's just vanity, but she can't help it. She is not completely normal, never has been, never will be, but at least she'd like to look the part. That, and she is aware of how she looks now, how she turns heads, and, to be honest, it's a pretty good thing.

"Haylie-belle, I've seen you covered in glitter glue, in mud up to your ears, and when you first tried on your mom's make up. I've seen you in your fair share of hideousness, and I still love you, so I don't think you should worry about that."

It's not exactly what she meant, but it's still comforting, and it does make her laugh.

"Oh, no, not the glitter glue incident!" she exclaims, throwing her head back. But her laughter is short-lived; soon she sobers up again, and looks at her father with an unwavering gaze.

"Honestly, dad… Am I making the right decision?" she asks, voicing the very thing that has really been bothering her.

Grant humms, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, gaining a second to think before he answers her.

"Look, I won't act like I know exactly what you are going through – I'm just an outsider, a mere human looking in from the outside. But from what I see…" He pauses, taking a breath. "As I see it, you don't have a good and a bad decision in this question. You simply have two ways to decide, but none of them is better than the other. Both of them have pros and cons, and it's up to you to decide which one is better for you. You can still say no – I hope you know that –, you can still say no, and don't go through with it. Nobody would blame you. But then you might end up wondering what you could have had for your whole life. And you can choose to go through with it, diving into the unknown. But the thing is, you might regret it later." He places his hand on her shoulder. "But on the other hand, it might be the best decision of your life."

She looks up at him with tears in her eyes.

"What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to choose what's the best for you. I want you to choose what you really want."

She swallows.

"What if I don't want to go through the mist?"

"Then we'll go home tomorrow and find some nice place where we can spend the rest of our vacation."

"And if what I want is to go through the Mist?"

"Then I'll stand by you and help you through your whole journey."

"Even if I turn out to be hideous?"

"It's physically impossible for you to be more hideous than when you were covered in glitter glue from head to toe, and I loved you even then."

A teary chuckle breaking free from her throat, she puts her beer down and throws herself into her father's arms, nuzzling her face against his neck like she used to do when she was a little girl.

"I love you so much, daddy," she whispers.

"Love you right back, princess," he replies, kissing the crown of her head. He holds her for a long time, letting her calm down. "Better?" he asks when they finally pull away from each other. Haylie just nods yes, wiping her eyes.

"Yes. Thank you. It's so much better now." She looks up at him. "I know what to do now."

Grant nods.

"Good." Then he stands up and presses one last kiss against her forehead. "Then you should head to bed. It's late, and this way or another, you have a big day tomorrow."

Her arm sneaks around his waist, clinging to him just a few seconds longer.

"Okay," she says finally. "Thanks, daddy."

"You're welcome, princess," he answers, rubbing her back soothing before releasing her. "Sleep well," he tells her, the leaves the room, closing the door softly behind himself.

Two minutes later, as she lies in her bed – her beer still half-full on the windowsill –, Haylie smiles, sure of what she wants to do, and calm, because she knows she has her family to back her up.