The thing about Skye
Sometimes, she needs some gentle encouragement
Earthquakes rocking the base have become a bit of a common phenomena. They come sporadically and in short bursts. Sometimes they just rattle things off the shelves in a single room; sometimes they sway the whole building, and the personnel have to lift their coffees to keep it from spilling.
Other than some broken glasses, there isn't usually major damage.
There haven't been any tremors in the past week, though, and May glares at the resident natural disaster (in more ways than just powers- but they don't talk about that).
May has been staring for the past hour, and it's telling how Daisy hasn't even looked up to search for the metaphorical daggers. She's fallen into some sort of fugue state that isn't technically asleep, but isn't quite awake either.
She's been staring at the same screen on her computer for so long, that the screen has gone black. Daisy's been dragging these past few days. Slow to respond and slurring her words a bit. But no matter how many people tell her to get some sleep, she agrees before just... not.
May is marginally surprised that the inhuman's body hasn't completely given out yet. Then again, this isn't entirely new behavior, is it? May huffs before standing up and abandoning the table. Her tea is long cold anyway.
Even marching right up to Daisy and hovering over her, the normally diligent girl doesn't react. It takes reaching out and laying a hand on her shoulder to get a response. It's not a positive one. Daisy flinches violently, arms half-rising in defense, before her bloodshot gaze lands on May.
May pretends she doesn't see the knee-jerk reaction and closes the sleeping laptop teetering on the girl's half raised knees. She puts it to the side before scooping up the remote and nudging the girl once more.
"Move over; it's movie night."
Daisy blinks slowly and takes several seconds before complying with all the energy of a battery that's been run all the way down. May's stomach twists uncomfortably.
Three days ago, she had suggested that Daisy could ask Simmons for some sleeping pills, but Daisy had vehemently refused. May knows that it's not the first time the idea has been brought up to her, and May might be tempted to slip some into her food anyway if she wasn't so certain that Daisy would never again eat anything May gave her.
May glances sideways and sees that she is being looked at. It's a distant, dazed, gaze, though, that seems to stare through her person and through the distant wall, and not actually be looking at anything at all. Daisy's body is strangely still, like it's an empty vessel slightly swaying on the cushions while its normal occupant slowly fades out of existence.
May puts on the most boring documentary she knows about- one of the shows FitzSimmons chooses when it's their choice for movie night, and one that Daisy has been lulled to sleep by many times before.
"Get comfy," May tells the girl. She's too out of it to notice that it's just them in the lounge. Hardly their typical movie night setting.
"I, um…" Daisy blinks slowly at May. "I shouldn't…"
"Lay down," she demands, hoping her firmness will get the girl doing as she says. Sometimes, she'll just automatically react when May uses that tone.
Daisy immediately sinks down against the cushions. Once her head lands in May's lap, Daisy starts scrubbing harshly at her eyes. She does it so viciously, May is concerned that she might pop some blood vessels. But then her muscles abruptly still, palm heel and fist still pressed into her eye sockets.
May slowly reaches out and nudges one of the hands away with her finger. It falls away revealing closed eyes, a limp face, and soft puffing breath.
She's asleep.
Thank god.
May turns off the documentary that hadn't even managed to get past the introduction. She switches it to something a little more interesting before turning it on mute and looking back to the girl who passed out the second her body was allowed out of an upright position.
Daisy didn't used to bother with much makeup, but now she coats thick eyeliner and maskara over her eyes in attempts to hide the growing bags. It works fairly well, but it gives her a darker, more goth look than she had when she first stepped onto their plane.
There's no denying that Daisy was messed up before SHIELD ever picked her up, but May despairs slightly as she fully acknowledges that Daisy's gotten so much worse. She can't help wondering if she would have been better off if Coulson hadn't invited her into their team, or if something worse would have befallen the unlucky girl.
It's a useless and torturous pondering- much like the one she used to be haunted by on if she had saved the little inhuman girl in Bahrain. Only, there is no framework to show her the alternate future this time.
She's fairly certain she doesn't truly ever want to have knowledge of that scenario.
…
Daisy isn't asleep for even 10 minutes before the first whimper escapes her. Her knees very slowly curl upward; her arms tuck in tighter as her throat bobs, and May can't feel the regular breathing on her leg anymore.
But she can feel the tremble of the couch. She can hear the rattle of her abandoned mug teetering toward the edge of the table.
There is a buzzing hum against May's legs like bees are wiggling and squirming under her skin and traveling up her body. It's a strange and somewhat unpleasant crawling sensation, but it's all too familiar and that familiarity sometimes makes it comforting.
May reaches down, placing her hand on the inhuman's head where the temperature is hot and the bees have sharp stingers.
"You're okay, Daisy," she murmurs quietly, gently carding her fingers through greasy, sweat soaked, hair. Her next goal will be to get her to shower. It's a far easier task than getting her to sleep. "I'm here. You're okay. I got you."
The stinging pain in May's fingers abruptly pulls back. The couch stops rattling. The tension in Daisy's body releases, but the frown doesn't quite leave her face.
May doesn't stop her quiet reassurances.
…
Coulson tiptoes into the room not long after the second nightmare shakes fade into the earth. His eyes immediately lock on Daisy as he enters the room, and his face droops in relief before it lifts to May
May stares at him blankly even as she doesn't stop carding her fingers through the inhuman's hair.
He breaks his gaze first, eyes dropping back to Daisy before he slinks over to the armchair to sit vigil with his cold coffee and a work laptop.
…
When the quivering world starts up for the third time in an hour, Daisy bolts awake, feet planted firmly into the ground and white knuckles clutching the edge of the cushions. Her mouth is open in a silent scream that doesn't ever escape.
Coulson leaps to his feet, but goes largely unacknowledged by either woman.
May stares as Daisy's jaw clicks shut a moment later before she abruptly bursts into exhausted tears. She doesn't cry in a loud bawling way. Except for the wet, hitching, breaths, the unending rivets pouring from the girl's eyes is eerily quiet.
The uncomfortable feeling lodged in May's chest grows. To her dismay, her hand shakes as she reaches out.
Daisy doesn't resist when May grabs hold of her shoulders. She goes limp and largely pliant, and May tugs the girl toward her. Daisy falls against her side, and May feels weird. She feels gross and off, and May's arms are around Daisy, but Daisy's arms remain non-reactive at her side while she continues heaving with internally stilted sobs. May presses on, though, stretching out along the couch and tucking the inhuman fully against her.
It takes an almost full five minutes before Daisy's arms finally lift and wind tightly around May's waist. It's only another minute before she's dragged, likely forcefully, back into unconsciousness.
This new position is a lot… more than May is used to. Even in sleep, Daisy's hold is too tight, and the extra body heat against her is already making her start to sweat. May doesn't move, though.
She tightens her hold as Coulson creeps closer and looks down at May, and May looks up at him with a tight jaw and stubborn tilt that falls slightly short from her current position.
There is no teasing air about him currently, though, and it eases some (not a lot) of the defensiveness clawing its way up her throat.
"You okay? You need to switch out?" He whispers.
Coulson is the much more touchy feely of the two. May gets uneasy with overt shows of physical comfort.
"I got this," she says. She doesn't loosen her hold.
Coulson's lips lift wryly at the corners.
"I know." He lingers, gaze soft and bit longing, before gently touching the top of Daisy's head for a moment. He hesitates, the urge to reach for May as well, before turning and retreating back to his chair.
A/N: Hello. I'm back. Kind of. I'm working on it, okay? Please review and let me know what you think!
~Silver~