The thing about Skye

She's protective

"Everyone set? I'm going dark."

Several affirmatives come over the coms, but Daisy waits a moment until she's away from the line of people and settling down at an outside table with her cup of coffee and a book.

"All set," she murmurs, as if talking to herself. She smooths out her jeans, flips open her paperback, and glances up to the park bench across the way where Coulson is casually looking through a newspaper. Daisy has the perfect vantage point from her little table.

This op is strictly information gathering, but it's always better safe than sorry. Hopefully, she won't be needed at all.

Daisy casually sips at her coffee and slowly peruses her book while she waits for Coulson's contact. They might finally get some answers on how inhumans are suddenly popping up all over the world, and where they are disappearing to.

A shadow suddenly falls over Daisy, a colorful wall stepping directly in her line of sight to the Director, and she tenses.

"Mary?"

Daisy blinks up at the young woman probably a few years younger than herself. She has long, dirty-blonde hair, and a heart-shaped face that is only the vaguest of familiar. She wouldn't think the girl familiar at all if she hadn't heard that name passing her lips in reference to Daisy.

"Or- do you go by something else now? I know you hated that name and wanted to change it. I'm Tori Darcen. We were at the-"

"Thompsons'…" Daisy finishes, a grubby ten-year-old with long dirty-blonde hair suddenly flashing through her memories. "I," Daisy's voice hitches for a moment, before she clears her throat. "Yeah, um, I went as Skye for a little bit, but it's Daisy now."

"Daisy, who is that?" May's voice harps directly into Daisy's ear. "Hurry up and get rid of her; you need to focus. The contact just arrived."

Daisy clears her throat, getting ready to make up some excuse, but Tori takes a sudden step closer, hesitates, and then sinks into the chair across from Daisy, purse dropping to the ground by her feet.

There is a torn expression on her face, full of regret and… appreciation.

"I never got to thank you," she says slowly, voice low so as not to carry, but the com in Daisy's ear probably picks it up anyway. Another warning is hissed at Daisy, telling her she doesn't have time for this- to get rid of her- Daisy's guts say to get rid of her- quick- "For that night. For starting that fire." The voices in Daisy's ears fall absolutely quiet. Her insides rot in discomfort and the urge to run .

Daisy shrugs, all too aware of all the people listening in. She darts an eye to the bench Coulson is on, and there is a man beside him now, reading his own paper while talking out of the corner of his mouth.

If her past weren't staring her in the face right now, she might feel like laughing.

"What's a little arson between foster siblings," Daisy shrugs uncomfortably. Stiffly. She puts her book down and reaches for her coffee as Tori's eyes burrow under her skin.

"I know it wasn't just that, though. We all did. You- you- protected us. You took the blame for everything, and if you couldn't, you'd do something worse just to draw his attention. When he'd go after Noah, you'd get between him and Mr. Thompson and take twice the beating Noah would have gotten." Tori's voice wavers and tears gather in the corner of her eyes, and Daisy's heart thuds. It thuds uncomfortably in her fingertips. Her chest. Her throat.

She did do all of that. She tried so hard to protect the younger kids, to take all the hits and the fury and the attention, so they wouldn't have to. She was good at being annoying. At drawing attention. Distracting.

Daisy's coffee is cold, but Daisy drinks it anyway. Her mouth is full of cement.

Tori picks at her sleeves, eyes drooping. "You protected us more than even we knew, didn't you? For years I never knew why you'd stay awake all night waiting by the door. Why you'd go to his… bedroom with him. It was so he wouldn't come after any of us, instead, wasn't it?"

Daisy breathes out. Puts her coffee down with trembling hands. She doesn't want to talk about this. Would have been okay with never having to face anyone from her foster kid past even though she wonders about them sometimes.

"I'm so sorry," Tori breathes. "I never knew."

"That was the point. I was the oldest," Daisy swallows, her tongue tasting bitter like the coffee. "The most experienced. It was my job to protect you guys. From as much as possible- and hope that you got out before you ever had to experience it, too."

A small hole forms in Tori's sweater where she's still picking at it. A nervous habit Daisy remembers from years past. "I did. Thank you. Really. Shortly after everything that happened, I got adopted."

"Then it was worth it." It was. Daisy swears it was.

"Did… did you ever find a family?"

She stares at Daisy so pleadingly. So hopeful that her childhood guardian got her happily ever after, too.

"Yeah," Daisy's voice comes out rough. Scratchy. A teary but genuine smile shakily crawls across her lips. "Yeah, um, it took a while. But I found my family. I really love them, and I think they love me, too. Who knows why."

Tori smiles, and it's a beautiful thing. "I know why. And I'm really glad. Can… can I hug you?"

Daisy is suddenly thrown back in time to a bathroom that is sterile clean, except for the medical supplies spread out across the sink, and the three sweaty kids kneeling next to the toilet seat. The girl in front of Daisy is dirt smudged and weary, lip wobbling with unshed tears stubbornly held at bay. "Can I hug you?" It's what she always asked when Daisy was so hurt that they had to break out the first aid kit. It's what she asked when she wasn't sure that a hug wouldn't send her into another bout of unconsciousness.

"Um," Daisy blinks, coming back to the table with her book and the sun and a woman sitting across from her rather than the child. "Um. Y-yeah."

Daisy is barely able to stand all the way before Tori is colliding against her, and Daisy tenses instinctively. Fights down the crawling sensation, and slowly returns the hug.

It's odd hugging Tori as an adult. In Daisy's mind, all those kids she tried to protect are still the same- forever stuck as lost, grubby, children.

"Skye."

Daisy jumps at the sudden voice directly in her ear, and doesn't even register that it's the wrong name. She had forgotten, for a moment, where she was- what she was supposed to be doing. Daisy gently extracts herself from the younger girl, and wipes at her face in case she's gone and done something silly (like cry).

"The contact is leaving. Randevu at the Quinjet. Bobbi is trailing the contact."

"Um, speaking of my family," Daisy coughs and smooths her shirt as she glances to where she last saw Coulson. He's gone when she looks. "I was supposed to help them with something, but it appears I'm running a bit late."

"Oh!" Tori says, jolting back and snatching up her bag. "I'm so sorry. I just saw you and… Well, I never thought I'd get a chance to see you again. To thank you."

Daisy stares at Tori for a moment, despite knowing she has to go. She feels something soften in her chest, and doesn't resist the urge to reach out and brush a lock of the girl's hair away. She looks happy, despite the sad nostalgia etched there. Healthy. Nothing like one of those scared little kids she tried so hard to guard against the harder world.

"You turned out amazing," Daisy whispers, and then she really has to go. She barely remembers to pick up her book before she jogs her way down the sidewalk.

There is a weird fluttering ache in her chest that she just needs to be released. She doesn't know what the emotion is. If it's a good feeling or a terrible one. All she knows is that she needs to go home.

Daisy climbs to the roof where the Quinjet waits, and watches as the air around it ripples and comes into view as the ramp is lowered.

May is waiting for her in the belly, and Daisy pauses just at the top, taking in her SO's usual blank expression.

Daisy clears her throat. "So, I know I kind of lost sight of the-"

May hugs her.

"Oh," Daisy says softly. Just stands for a moment. Soaks in the absence of crawling bugs on her skin.

Her arms flutter a bit uselessly, before she remembers what a hug is- that she knows what a hug is- and slowly returns it. May's hugs are rare. She can count them on one hand, and the instances usually involve some kind of injury that has Daisy in the midst of dying.

Daisy would gladly almost die for a May hug. They are the absolute best. Tight and full-bodied- and you know she really means it when it comes from May.

May clears her throat, and it's awkward sounding because May is usually above making sounds of discomfort- even if it's a bullet in her shoulder.

Daisy's heart lopes unsteadily as her SO pulls back.

"So," May says. "You're an arsonist?"

Daisy laughs, and feels uncomfortable, but also weirdly happy.

"Um, yeah. My, uh, foster dad at the time went after one of the younger kids for something. I don't remember exactly what they did, but it was bad. Normally I try to protect them, you know? Get his anger on me instead. But, well, it didn't work that time. Mr. Thompson just started in on him and wouldn't stop no matter what I did. I wasn't strong enough to stop him physically so I just… lit his drapes on fire? I didn't know that he'd spilled enough alcohol over the couch to make it go up, too, like it did. Anyway. It worked. Finally turned his attention onto me. We all went to separate homes after we got released from the hospital."

"Where's this foster father now?" May asks casually, but the raised hairs of Daisy's arms make her uncertain. She flicks her eyes over the older agent's carefully smoothed expression. Only, it's not smooth. There is a tightness around her eyes that isn't normally there.

Daisy blushes under the protective weight of Melinda May's presence.

She scratches the back of her neck. "Last I heard, he was in prison. The arson investigation ended up bringing some things into light, plus the other kids' testimonies. That's why I didn't end up in juvie instead of just back at St. Agnes."

"So, you've always been this reprehensibly brave, huh Skye?"

Daisy sputters, and a strange noise hums in her throat. "It's Daisy."

"Right."

A clank and a clump warns of someone clomping up the ramp, and they both turn to find Coulson striding up, Bobbi a few paces behind. Her eyes stare at Daisy, bleeding concern.

"Why isn't the plane ready to go?" Coulson asks, sounding bewildered. His eyes dart between Daisy and May, discerning a million things before Daisy can blink. "Did I miss something?"

"May will fill you in later, I'm sure," Daisy sighs, and goes to strap herself into one of the seats for takeoff. She knows there is very little that May doesn't tell Coulson. It's not likely that the Director won't hear what happened, even if May and Bobbi both decide to leave it off the official reports.

It makes Daisy uncomfortable, and anxious, but not as much as she might have expected.

After May's impulsive hug, she is… strangely okay with Coulson knowing, too.

A/N: Someone suggested Skye running into an old foster family, and I know they meant the parents, but it turned into this. Some actual acknowledgement of some of the shit she went through, because she's traumatized as f***k and not going to talk about it herself.

Please let me know what you think. It's not one of my favorites, but hopefully it's acceptable.

~Silver~