The thing about Skye
Expansion off: She was a foster kid
May enters the kitchenette without glancing at Ward as she prepares a pot of coffee. She doesn't drink the stuff, but she knows that Coulson had a late night and should be getting up soon. Once the pot is on and running, she goes about fixing the kettle, too. She's already had her morning cup, but she enjoys the rare slow starts of sitting in Coulson's office and enjoying their drinks together.
As she fills the kettle, she glances at Ward out of the corner of her eye. He's already looking at her, leaning back against the counter and sipping on a glass of water. He wears loose workout clothes and a relaxed expression.
He should be heading down to the cargo hold soon. May just finished her own morning routine.
She wonders if Skye is still showing up to her lessons late. She hasn't the faintest idea of how, or why, the hacker shows up late when May can feel her observations early each morning just before Ward's mandated training time.
"How is Skye's training going?" She asks. She's not one to make conversation, and she's not now. She needs any information she can get on the girl, and Ward is the only one other than herself who was originally against letting the hacker join the team. He also spends the majority time with her now that he's her SO.
The girl is… an enigma. There's something about her that makes May very uneasy. She sets her instinct off. Even more since observing her the past few weeks. She doesn't want to name the feeling as concern.
Ward lowers his glass from his mouth a few inches. "She's doing well. Better, since the Gravitonium mission. Coulson was right; she responds better to the personable approach." He swirls his waterglass, staring down at the little whirlpool with a furrowed brow. "Did you know she was a foster kid? Grew up in an orphanage."
May takes down two mugs from the cabinet, slowly setting them on the counter as she waits for both waters to boil. The coffee machine sputters, and the brown sludge finally starts trickling out.
"That's not surprising," May says slowly. "Did she say the name of the orphanage?" They might have paper records, even if Skye scrubbed all the electronic ones. With an actual name and history, May could get an idea of just who this girl is, and what her experiences are.
Maybe then, she could get rid of this… weariness she has when she watches the girl.
"St Agnes," Ward says, and drains his glass before putting it down and straightening up. "Well, she should be in the cargo hold by now. Have a good day, Agent May." He leaves.
May continues to slowly prep the drinks, pouring the steaming liquids into each mug as she thinks. Finally, she picks up both drinks and heads toward the spiral staircase where Coulson should be just beginning to fumble around his office.
May can start her research while she finishes her tea.
….
Fitz isn't entirely sure what is happening. Well, that's not accurate. He knows what is happening- he is watching the rest of his day derail before his eyes.
It was mission complete, they caught the bad guys- the bad guys were arrested. Except, after all was said and done, one of the bad guys had kids in their office. As in three of them. As in, suddenly the team can't just get back on the Bus and fly away before the local authorities show up, because they can't just leave the kids unsupervised. They have to wait for CPS to arrive.
And then, somehow, Skye is arguing with the social worker who is supposed to take the three problems off their hands while she holds a baby in her arms and another child clings to her hand and another clings to her shirt behind her. And then, while they are arguing, a rancid smell fills the room, but Skye only rolls her eyes and says "Hold this," before dropping the ugly, wrinkly, stinky thing in his arm and trades her hand with Fitz's. There is suddenly a small sweaty hand gripping his tightly.
Skye shuffles around the room finding a stuffed, child's, backpack and lays things out across the evil bad guys' desk, and then she's taking back the thing and one-handedly changing it on the table in front of everyone while the other hand flies across the keys of the (evil bad guys') desktop computer.
And then she's back with a clean, newly changed baby, and takes the sweaty child's hand out of his (he tried and failed to shake the kid off) and she gives the name Skye Smith, to the social worker. The social worker, frowning, makes a call, and they are suddenly boarding the Bus with three kids. Instead of getting back in the air and relaxing on another job well done, they are stuck on land for another night while they wait for the kids' dad who lives in another state to arrive at the police station tomorrow.
Fitz has no doubt that 'Skye Smith' didn't exist until about twenty minutes ago.
So, Fitz is very clear on the occurrence of events which lead to Skye sitting in the middle of the lounge with a nine-year old braiding her hair and a baby in her lap, while she happily chats and colors with a four-year old.
He just doesn't know why it's happening. Or why Coulson is letting it happen. He's happily clanking around the kitchen, cooking enough for their three extras. He thinks May and Ward had the right idea of running away and hiding after their initial protests and (very reasonable) concerns were ignored.
But Jemma seems perfectly content sitting next to the four-year-old and trying to show him how to make his cat anatomically correct. He won't ever tell her that the kid's scribbling looks far more accurate (as in, he wouldn't be able to tell that Jemma's cat is a cat at all if she wasn't talking them through her drawing process). So he decides to stay as long as no other gross, grubby, hands try to grab onto him. With Skye seeming to be able to keep them sufficiently occupied, and quiet, maybe the next twelve hours won't be as hellish as he's heard rumors about babysitting could be.
It's strange watching Skye. She's normally a bit skittish in talking to any of them, but she seems fully at ease letting these kids yank on her hair and climb all over her. It almost makes him forget how conscious of them she tends to be until he reaches out to get her attention and she's instantly twitching away from his hand.
"Sorry," he apologizes quickly. He doesn't like people suddenly touching him (other than Jemma) either, but he can be hypocritical in forgetting that other people might feel the same way.
Skye shrugs dismissively, and then doesn't even flinch when the gremlin in her lap reels his hand back and thumps her harshly right in the face. "It's fine. What's up?"
"How are you so good at this?" he asks, gesturing awkwardly at the mini, under-developed, humans. As if to prove a point, a young limb catches a side-table leg, and Skye almost absently rescues the falling snack dish before pushing it farther away from the easily-knocked-off edge.
"I had a lot of foster siblings growing up. One of the main reasons fosters get older kids at all is for the free babysitting service. I didn't really mind it."
"You were a foster kid?" Jemma asks before he can, looking up from her… cow? Pig?
"Mmhm," Skye hums, just playing with the baby's hands now and making silly faces at him until he's screeching in delight. He winces at the sound, and wonders how she can stand it so close to her ear.
"Do you still keep in contact with any of them? I've told you everything about my family- I'd love to hear about yours." Fitz didn't know that Jemma had told Skye about her family.
"I don't have one," she says bluntly. It's only because he's watching her that he sees the flinch in her shoulders- sees that this fact affects her at all with all the emotion she doesn't give away in her voice. Jemma is watching her too. Skye hesitates and seems to consciously relax her body. She makes another face that sends the creature in her lap into more peels of laughter. It hurts his ears. "But I'm still in contact with a few. Sometimes. They know how to reach me, in any case."
And the topic of family is left at that, because Fitz doesn't feel saying anything about his dad would be productive in this instance (also, talking about it during the day somehow feels different than the intimacy night brings).
The next day, Fitz watches Skye make the nine-year-old repeat back to her the number to her encrypted phone. It's most definitely not protocall, but he listens to her make the girl promise to call if she doesn't like living with her dad (he saw Skye already researching the man to hell and back as soon as the kids were put down to sleep in her bunk).
Something about the exchange makes him feel uneasy and weird. He'll talk to Jemma about it later. She understands these things better than he does.
…..
"It's so weird having the base so empty." Hunter looks up as Skye flops backward over the armrest, her head just grazing the outside of his thigh. He shifts over slightly, to give her more room, and returns his attention to the HALO game he's been playing the past three hours.
Single player really isn't as much fun as having an opponent you can trash talk.
"First Christmas in SHIELD?" he asks.
"Second. But we were stuck on a plane last Christmas. It was nice. Coulson roped us all into making dinner together."
Hunter absently clicks through his weapons options, not really caring if he's killed while he can't see the playing field. He's gotten bored of this game.
"Figured the scientist would have taken you home with him."
"Fitz offered, but I don't have a great track record with parents. They kind of tend to hate me."
He glances over at her contemplatively. Flannel? Please, it's so obvious.
"Lesbian corrupting their poor, innocent daughters?" He guesses.
She snorts. "Bi, actually. And no, I didn't mean my paramore's parents."
"Yes! Got it right," he cheers. "Well, half right." His screen is suddenly very quickly splattered in blood, and he dies before he can try running too far. He tosses the remote to the side and stands up to search for a second one. "So what was it then, if not you bringing their daughters around to the fairer sex?"
"Foster kid," Skye says casually, and when he glances over, she just shrugs. "Like I said. Just something about me that parents don't tend to like."
He tosses the second controller in her direction. She flinches as it bounces off her stomach, but she straightens up and turns it on. He returns to his spot.
"That sucks," he laments. "Parents adored me. Well, except one. My dad didn't like me too much. Drunk bastard."
Skye laughs as Hunter navigates to Mario Cart, and his head tilts at the sound. That's not generally the reaction people give, even when he makes a joke out of the confession. She laughed though. Maybe she gets it.
She probably gets it.
People with good home lives don't tend to become spies.
…..
Mack has gotten used to finding Daisy in the back of the SHIELD vehicles when he goes to work on them. He's come to accept it as just being a part of SHIELD, like FitzSimmons in the lab, or Agent May telling the Director what to do (and the Director actually listening).
After peaking through the back window, Mack pulls open the door and slides into the back seat. Daisy shuffles slightly, eyes still closed, and nuzzles her head into his lap with a sigh. Mack settles his hand on her arm and rubs it up and down. It's always strange seeing the unhesitating ease Daisy has when around him, when he's seen her cringe away from a random old lady on the street scolding some trouble-makers.
"Daisy," he says, even though he's reluctant to disturb her when it looks like she's actually trying to get some rest. "Another team is going to need this vehicle soon. You might want to find somewhere else to sleep."
Daisy huffs out a sigh and hauls herself into an upright position. He lets his hand fall aways as she sways slowly, eyes still sealed shut. He regrets making her move.
"Hey, why do you sleep in here anyway? Why not your bunk," he asks. He's been wondering since he first found her in the back of one of these, but he didn't feel comfortable asking then. They didn't know each other, but now they do- they are partners.
Daisy cracks one eye open, squinting blearily at him from across the car. Her eyes fall closed again as she yawns, and she slides closer across the seat to slouch against him. Her head falls limply against his shoulder with a hum.
"Can't sleep in my room. S'just habit I guess. Switching homes, switching fosters all the time- never knew what kind I'd get. Best just to sleep somewhere they couldn't find you, y'know?"
He… did not know. He suspected that she didn't have a great home life, but he didn't know she didn't have one at all. And what did she mean 'never knew what kind I'd get,' and 'best sleep somewhere they couldn't find you?'
"Daisy, what do you mean? What were you scared of?"
"Don't wanna talk an'more," she mumbles, speech slurring into something almost incomprehensible. Mack wants to shake her. To demand more answers. He wants her to reassure him that she didn't mean it the way it sounded.
Her room should be safe. It should always have been safe.
He doesn't shake her. Doesn't want to frighten her, or ever have her be weary of letting her guard down around him again, or of falling asleep against his shoulder because he can't keep his temper in check. He is safe. He is safe to fall asleep around.
Mack rips the door open with a trembling hand, making Daisy jolt groggily and give another yawn.
"Come on, Tremors. I saw Bobbi in the lounge; you can sleep there."
"M'Kay," she sighs, and allows herself to be helped out of the vehicle. Once her feet are on the ground, though, she just stands there blinking for a moment, and Mack has to nudge her toward the hangar door to get her moving.
When she's gone, he turns back to the vehicle and slams his thumb into the button that pops the hood. Despite his size and intimidation, he's not a violent person. It takes a lot to get him angry, but his hands continue to shake in absolute fury as he goes about his pre-mission inspection.
….
Daisy finds her sister staring out into space, a supergiant just peaking over the helm of their ship like their own personal sunrise. She doesn't know what time it actually is. It's hard to keep track when there is no actual sunrise or nightfall. No rotating sun, just revolving suns and galaxies.
An ache twists unpleasantly in Daisy's chest. It's always there. She ignores it.
"Hey," she says, stepping closer to Kora and leaning back against one of the consuls. Kora turns slightly, and Daisy jolts as she catches sight of the shimmering glint of tears. "Oh…"
"Hey," Kora smiles. It's wobbly and half-hearted and falls quickly. She doesn't try to hide her moment of weakness. She just calmly reaches up and swipes at her cheeks with her sleeve. Daisy stares. "Sorry. Just thinking about mom."
Right. Jiang is dead. Again. Except, it's probably different for Kora. "...I'm sorry for your loss," Daisy says after a moment. She doesn't know why she says it. It's just what she's heard other people say before. She cringes.
Kora laughs. It's a wet, half-amused puff of breath. She turns her body all the way to face Daisy and leans back against another desk. She's missing the sunrise. She can't help thinking that that's more of a shame than Jiaying dying in front of Daisy a second time (it's not; she just doesn't know how to process it at all- how to feel; she feels grief and anger so strongly entwined she doesn't know if she'll scream or break down if she lets any of it out, but the ship they are on would surely crack in half).
"It's your loss just as much as mine," Kora says, lips still in that in-between of a smile and frown.
"Sure, but it's different for you. I didn't grow up with her."
The semi-smile melts away, leaving just the frown as her eyebrows dip in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"I-" Daisy exhales sharply, dragging a hand through her hair. Has she really not heard? It's surely come up before. "Jiaying didn't raise me? I mean, I only met her and my dad a few years ago, and then only knew her for a few weeks before she-" tried to kill her "-died in my timeline."
"If our mom didn't raise you, then who did?"
"No one?" Daisy huffs her own half-amused laugh. She presses her shaky palms together to keep from running them through her hair again. She was too harsh last time and ripped a few strands out. "Everyone? I bounced back and forth between foster homes and the orphanage before I ran away, so I guess I raised myself until SHIELD found me."
Kora examines her solemnly. After a moment, she turns away, back toward the window where the star had long passed out of view (but there are a dozen more glinting from lightyears away). "I'm sorry for your loss," she says grimly, and Daisy's breath catches unexpectedly (it shouldn't be unexpected by now- she loses that vital ability far too easily).
"That's-" She presses her lips together. She twists her fingers painfully until they feel like they might snap or the skin might pull away. "...Thanks," she finally says.
A/N: Oof, long chapter. I've got another long one coming up next, too. Let me know what you guys think!
~Silver~