The thing about Skye
She won't let them go (obviously- they're her family, damn it)
Daisy has been in space so long, she'd nearly forgotten the way Earth feels to her senses. It feels almost strange, now, that the vibrations are slower and stretch out around her without echoing and bouncing back in a consistent feedback loop.
It was hard for the first few weeks on the ship, but her powers eventually adjusted in a way that didn't give her a splitting headache 24/7. Stepping off the ship, into a SHIELD base, feels a lot like coming home.
She feels him before she sees him, and she's already smiling by the time he appears, stance wide and large arms folded across his chest.
"Mack," Daisy sighs happily, and she jumps into his arms. He must remember her normal disregard for decorum, because he easily catches her, and his embrace is as strong and solid as she remembers it.
"Tremors," he smiles, and sets her down a little sooner than she'd like. The new faces of agents gape at them, but the Director pays no mind to them, so Daisy ignores them too. "It's good to see you. And in person."
"I really missed you, Mack." She wants to reach out again, touch him, make sure he's real. But there is already another itch wriggling in Daisy's blood. It's been there for weeks, since she found out they were going home.
"Well, we can catch up for real after debrief in my office."
"You know," she says, stepping away, "I would really love to, and I will- promise- but later. I kind of have a thing."
Daisy turns, searching for the exit, and the Director sighs. "They're in class right now."
"You don't mind if I borrow a Quinjet, do you," Daisy calls over her shoulder. "I promise I learned how to fly one since the last time you saw me."
The Director grumbles behind her, before turning to her boyfriend. "Sousa. My office. You can give the debrief."
"Yes Sir," her boyfriend answers, affection audible in his voice, as Daisy climbs up the ramp of the nearest, unoccupied, jet.
After navigating space for the past two years, the Quinjet is phenomenally easy to start up and maneuver. It takes less than an hour to reach Daisy's destination, and then she's navigating through unfamiliar halls based on vague information and the occasional late kid she stops and asks for directions.
Then she finds it and she suddenly can't move- can't look away from the thick oak door with the name plate across it.
The vibrations on the other side tickle the recesses of Daisy's most fond memories, and she aches. She trembles. And the world trembles in response.
The muffled voice on the other side of the door pauses. Daisy pushes inside.
A dozen eyes lock on her, suspended in seats of the lecture room, but there are only one pair of eyes that matter. They come from the professor standing in front of a projector.
Melinda May looks entirely odd to Daisy, dressed as she is in the loose, delicate, material of a business suit. Yet she looks utterly the same as the last time Daisy saw her as past and present crash together and rewrite themselves in a way that's like it hasn't been two years since they were last inside the same room together.
"May," Daisy croaks, and launches herself across the room. There is an insistent, raspy, rumble in time to Daisy's deep inhales.
"Skye," May mumbles, and Daisy laughs wetly. Even years later, she and Coulson still get it wrong. May grips her just as tightly back for a moment before looking over Daisy's shoulder. "Class dismissed," she snaps- and it's a tone that rings all too familiar in Daisy's memories.
There is absolute silence for a moment, before a quiet shuffle picks up with whispers, and Daisy doesn't let go of her old mentor for anything. The door clicks shut again, and still Daisy doesn't move.
"When did you get back?" May hums, stroking her back in such a way that coaxes the rumbles in Daisy's chest impossibly louder.
"About an hour ago," Daisy sighs, body relaxing fully for the first time in a long while.
"Did you even stop in with the Director first?"
"Of course. For, like, a whole 10 seconds. And then I stole a Quinjet and flew straight here."
May snorts, before finally drawing back. Daisy's chest ache's in longing before they even get a paper length apart, and May gasps before surging forward again and squeezes Daisy all the harder.
"Sorry," Daisy mumbles into the shorter woman's shoulder. She knows her emotions are a bit overbearing and overwhelming.
"Don't be. I missed you, too. I'm so glad that you're home, Daisy."
"Me too, mom," she mumbles into May's neck, flushing in embarrassment as she always does in calling her SO that particular title. Finally, Daisy forces herself to withdraw, to allow the woman to collect herself outside of Daisy's own irrepressible emotions.
Despite her efforts, May doesn't allow her to retreat completely. Her hand remains clenched in Daisy's, even though Daisy knows the empath doesn't like being assaulted by the feelings of other people.
Daisy clears her throat, even though she knows it won't disrupt her damn purring. "Is um… Do you know where-"
"Coulson is probably just finishing his own class in building Three."
A/N: Because I don't agree that they never see each other again. They're never on the same team, all together, again- fine. But they are still close and still visit individually. Daisy wouldn't give up her family that easily- especially because someone says so.
~Silver~