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From the outside it looks peaceful.
That’s the first thing Daisy notices when she’s standing yards away from the front door, leaning against the stone pillar that marks the edge of their property. It looks like something out of a fairytale- maybe something Daisy imagined when she was a little kid daydreaming about what the perfect, permanent home might look like. The grass is incredibly green, and the sky is perfectly blue. It isn’t too hot or cold- just cool enough for late summer. A gentle breeze blows through and ruffles the flowers, making the grass sway.
The cottage looks small from where she stands. It’s a bit of a hike up to where it sits at the top of the hill. It’s very Snow White with its little chimney and wooden door, but Daisy knows it must be high tech considering its residents. There’s movement inside, and Daisy catches a silhouette passing by the window. She isn’t sure why she’s as nervous as she is. It really hasn’t been that long (a month, maybe a little bit more) and Daisy knows for a fact that one little month will never erase the things that they’ve built- the things they’ve been through together.
But she still feels a little out of place here. She feels like an intruder. It’s all rolling hills and England, tea and stillness. Daisy’s never belonged to a place like this before. She’s always been crude language and defensive words, dyed hair and dark eyeshadow, no roots. This place is quiet and crisp air and peace. Daisy doesn’t think she knows very much about peace. She’s sort of learning, but it isn’t like this.
She hikes her way up the stone pathway that winds and twists up the hill to the front door. There are some things lying in the tall grass- a red kickball hidden in some bushes and one of those little Fisher Price cars on its side outside the shed.
She’s taking her time getting to the front door. She’s stalling- Daisy knows- but she’s not really used to things like home. She’s never had a place to call home, and even working at SHIELD meant a certain level of detachment was required for things and places. Daisy can’t shake that feeling she was so familiar with her entire childhood- the imposter feeling. She is in some place she doesn’t really belong trying her best to fit in. Daisy’s never belonged to a place the way she suspects her friends do.
Daisy takes a minute at the front door. She stands there and observes the growing green on the walls, and she marvels at all the flowers growing in various terracotta pots. Then she takes a deep breath, raises her hand, and knocks.
In seconds, the door is flung open, and Daisy is barely able to catch Jemma’s face before there are arms around Daisy’s wait and hair in Daisy’s mouth. Once Daisy has processed what’s happened (it couldn’t have taken more than a millisecond, but it feels like forever) Daisy winds her arms around Jemma's torso to return the hug. “It’s so good to see you!” Jemma cheers, and it makes something in Daisy’s chest pound. The feeling of crying comes out of left field and knocks Daisy’s breath right out of her lungs. Maybe she’s missed them more than she thought.
The inside is a completely different story from the outside. There is the sound of clanging and whistling. Daisy swears she can hear Alya shrieking with laughter from somewhere inside, and there’s a scrape of metal and then a beep from the kitchen. Jemma pulls away, cheeks tinted pink like she’s just come in from the cold, and she says, “Sorry. It gets loud.” They step into the foyer, and suddenly something goes crashing down the stairs. It’s loud and chaotic and nonsensical, and suddenly Daisy feels right at home.
“Alya!” Jemma is already rushing towards the stairs, hands on her hips. Her voice is stern, and Daisy recognizes the tone; it’s one Jemma’s used on Fitz all the time, and it’s one that Daisy’s been subject to herself once or twice. From this angle, Daisy can’t see the little girl, but she suspects Alya’s standing at the top of the stairs all chubby cheeks and sheepish smiles. From what Daisy’s heard (and seen over various video calls) that little girl could be a troublemaker. Daisy thinks it only makes sense considering her parentage.
Daisy’s busy toeing off her boots to leave by the front door when the little girl crashes into her legs. She’s small, but she packs a surprisingly big punch, not really giving a damn about who went down with her. She has the element of surprise on her side, and Daisy isn’t exactly the most balanced with one foot in the air and halfway out of a shoe, so Daisy stumbles towards the ground. She hears Alya laugh, and it’s so loud and absolutely charming.
“Alya, apologize please.” Daisy half hears Alya’s half hearted apologies as she tries to sit up and get her bearings. Alya pushes her back to the ground, and Jemma snatches the little girl off Daisy’s chest. Daisy’s barely gotten her sense back- has just taken her shoes all the way off- when Alya is crawling back on her, yanking them both back to the ground. So much for “I’m sorry.”
“You should sign this one up for combat.” Daisy’s only mostly joking. “She could probably take May in a heartbeat.”
“She has, actually.” Daisy gives in and lies back on the wooden floor of her best friend’s house. Alya is a little blonde ball of energy, clambering all over Daisy’s limbs and torso, and Daisy smiles at the image of a small toddler getting the best of Melinda May. “She wants to go with you, you know.”
Daisy looks up to see a slight frown on Jemma’s face. She’s watching them with knit eyebrows and pressed lips, and Daisy is used to picking up on her tells by now. She’s about to ask Jemma what’s wrong when Alya’s palms land on her face, and Daisy decides to finally give her some attention.
“I want to go with you,” Alya confirms, “To space!”
"Fitz!” Jemma yells. Daisy turns her head to the side (or more accurately, Alya pushes her head to the side) and she catches Jemma standing at the bottom of the stairs. Any hints of concern have disappeared from Jemma’s features as she leans against the railing at the bottom of the stairs, looking up. “Daisy’s here! And our daughter is strangling her!”
There’s some clanging from upstairs and the distinct sound of Fitz’s cursing, which only makes Jemma sigh and Alya laugh. Then Daisy hears heavy footsteps coming down the stairs and a “C’mere monkey.” Alya is lifted off Daisy a second later, and she shrieks some more. Fitz has her hefted up in one hand, and she dangles over his forearm, folded in half like wet laundry. Fitz holds his free hand out for Daisy, and she stares at it for a second before she takes it.
“She wants to go with you, you know,” Fitz says once Daisy is on her feet. He wrestles with Alya, and she squirms and squirms and tries every trick to get out of Fitz’s arms but he maneuvers her like he’s found out how to hold water.
“So I’ve heard,” Daisy says, “I’m glad I could stop by before I left.”
“Where’s Sousa?” Jemma asks.
Daisy tries to school the expression that threatens to come over her face. It’s annoying, Daisy thinks, the way he somehow manages to make her want to break into a smile by simply existing. No one should be able to make her walls melt like that, but somehow, even after a month spent together, he manages to do it, and he isn’t even here. She doesn’t think she’s done a very good job of keeping it in, because Jemma and Fitz both share a look. “He’s, uh, preparing and packing for the space stuff. He’s very meticulous about it- very boy scout- but he wouldn’t want me to say that.” There’s a beat of silence, and Daisy feels incredibly awkward and embarrassed all of a sudden, so she raises her hand and smacks Fitz’s arm. “Thanks for setting us up technically, I guess.”
“Oh yeah, no problem.” They both flinch when Alya mimics Daisy’s gesture and gives Fitz a smack of her own. She’s still in Fitz’s arms, but her struggling has mostly come to a stop- replaced by a quiet pout. When Daisy catches her eye, Alya seems to catch the opportunity, and she starts to whine. “Daisy-” Alya draws out the vowels and the zzz of her name.
She sees Jemma and Fitz look at each other a little awkwardly, and Daisy just says, “It’s alright,” before she lets the girl clamber up into her arms. Daisy’s always considered herself better than most with kids. She spent most of her childhood among other children, and by the time she was a teenager, she was watching after hordes of children with years worth of emotional problems. That being said, the relief she feels that this little girl likes her is unreasonably high.
Alya was shy at first which could only be expected from what Daisy heard. Spending her entire childhood on a spaceship with only her parents and a chronicom for company could not be good for anyone’s social skills, but Alya had inherited many traits from her parents. She is stubborn and mischievous and curious and brave- so Daisy supposes that all helps. Daisy supposes it also helps that they told Alya stories about her. That was something Daisy still had trouble thinking about. When they first told her about it, Daisy was in shock for a week practically, and still the thought of it makes her feel like her brain is tripping and stumbling. It’s all a good thing, but sometimes Daisy forgets that she can be remembered even when she’s not around.
Daisy’s presence in the house means that she is tasked with the role of babysitter before a word leaves her mouth. Alya refuses to leave her side, and Daisy has been graciously pretending that she didn’t notice the bags under her friends’ eyes. Jemma leaves to set the table for dinner while Fitz runs up the stairs to tidy up the many toys and various projects lying around, so Daisy is left in the living room with an over talkative four year old child who possessed very little regard for personal space. The little girl is practically already a genius of course; Daisy expected nothing less. She shows Daisy her lego structures, and Daisy tries to follow along as the girl jumps from the physics behind a theoretical lego tower to why grass is green to “Why is my left leg longer than my right?”
“You need to brush your teeth more. That’s why,” Daisy mutters. She’s lying on her back between the coffee table and the TV, and Alya is dumping piles of legos on the table to try to find all the yellow pieces.
She pauses from the search for a moment to think, and then she cries out, “That doesn’t make any sense!”
“Yeah it does.” Daisy tosses one of the yellow pieces lying by her head, buried under her hair, onto the table for Alya. “That’s what happened to me, so I would know.”
They lock eyes for a long moment, and Alya squints and thinks. Then her face scrunches up tight and she’s smiling down at Daisy like a little demon. “I brush my teeth two times a day,” she says, stomps her foot, and Daisy tries to keep up the straight face.
“Oh sorry. I must be mistaken. Alya returns to her legos then- that little troublemaker smile still on her face as Daisy watches her make a mess of the living room.
She sees so much of her friends in that little girl, and it’s almost unnerving. The way she talks and smiles and thinks is all so Fitzsimmons. People always talked about children being the spitting image of their parents, but Daisy never believed it before. As a teenager, she befriended too many rebellious teenagers from the suburbs to believe it, and after practically raising herself, Daisy wasn’t keen to believe they deserved any credit in what she was. But Alya is just like her parents. Maybe it had something to do with living on a spaceship together. Daisy doesn’t regret leading the life she’s led, but a part of her wonders what would have happened if she grew up with her parents. Would she have been such a perfect combination of them too? If she had just gotten a little bit more time with her mom and her dad, would she have realized all the traits she had inherited from them after all?
The memory of them still hurts a little to think about, so Daisy snatches Alya up and tries to think about how lucky this little girl is instead.
Dinner is questionable in nature. They never used to cook on base beyond the most simple dishes- mac n’ cheese or spaghetti- but Daisy grew up on cafeteria food and lived off rations as an adult, so she thinks she can handle the odd choices in spices and slightly overcooked pasta. Alya is four years old, so she doesn’t seem to have a palette made for critiquing foods.
Instead, she talks the whole time. She is an incredibly talkative kid, but Daisy thinks it’s a good thing. Daisy used to be a talkative kid too, but she was never allowed to do much of it growing up. She is glad that Alya doesn’t have to deal with that, and she’s glad that Alya seems to have become enamored with the world rather than shutting down. The poor girl has had a lot of changes to go through, and from what Daisy’s heard from Simmons, it hasn’t exactly been the smoothest road. But Alya never stops talking about the grass and the beach and fish. Daisy knows Jemma is worried about the day Alya has to go to school, but Daisy thinks, for the most part, she will be perfectly fine.
She’s already improved so much- going from never leaving her father's side to spending an afternoon at the park with Coulson. She’s so brave, and Daisy thinks she might love this kid just as much as she loves her best friends. It only makes sense. Daisy looks at her, and she sees the best parts of them.
Daisy offers to help with the dishes, but Jemma practically pushes her out the back door. Jemma’s improved too, Daisy thinks. She remembers the moments after Jemma regained her memory- how she would go spiraling, practically on the verge of a panic attack if her daughter wasn’t in sight. Daisy knows she’s just in their backyard. Jemma could come out whenever she wanted, and she could probably already see them from the kitchen window, but the implicit trust of letting Daisy watch after their daughter (even if it was just for an hour) has Daisy feeling unusually giddy.
“She’ll be talking about you for days after you leave,” Jemma mutters is Daisy’s ear, “Might as well give her as much Auntie Daisy time as she can get.”
“Yeah, and if you could please tire her out before bedtime please,” Fitz chimes in as he juggles all their dishes, carrying them towards the kitchen. Jemma is already heading to the living room to dump all of Alya’s legos back into a bucket. Maybe the exhaustion had something to do with that whole implicit trust thing too.
Daisy takes her job very seriously. She spends most of the time trying to teach Alya how to play some of the games she learned as a kid, but Alya seems intent on playing “kick the ball as hard as you possibly can.” Daisy should’ve expected that Fitz’s soccer passion would be passed onto his child. Alya shouts various numbers, and Daisy does her best to follow the rules of “soccer for two except Alya makes all the rules.” Once the sun hits the horizon, it sets the backyard in a soft, orange glow, and Alya takes the opportunity to teach Daisy everything she’s learned about wavelengths and soil. Once the sun has set, Fitzsimmons joins them outside. Jemma comes first, carrying a tray of mugs, and Fitz comes moments later, lugging a large telescope behind him.
“Do you guys remember our trip to the Grand Canyon?” Fitz asks, setting the things up as Alya wraps her arms around his neck and crawls all over his back. The Grand Canyon was one of the few road trips they had taken together- the three of them. They had gotten into an old SHIELD car, a week or so after Maveth. Jemma was feeling down, and Fitz wanted to get her out underneath the stars. Grant Ward was dead, so it was a bit of a celebration too, and Daisy’s not sure how she got invited, but she just remembers that she was. She drove the two Brits, and nearly had a heart attack when Fitz insisted on taking the wheel for a bit.
“How could I forget? You made me fear for my life.” They’re laughing now, but Daisy still remembers the way her chest pounded as Fitz took a left turn out of the gas station only to immediately begin driving on the wrong side of the road.
“Well-” Fitz looks like he wants to protest, but he seems to think better of it. “Okay, well the point is that-”
“The stars in England are different,” Jemma cuts in, bringing them to the point.
Alya lights up bright, her smile illuminated by the soft yellow porch lights. “Show her my star!” She shouts.
“Yes, of course,” Jemma says, But first, come drink your hot chocolate before it gets cold.”
“Hot chocolate before bed?” Fitz asks, shock and incredulousness on his face, “And you say I spoil her.”
Daisy grabs the mug Jemma offers her. It's a misshapen, asymmetrical mug, covered in messy layers of blue glaze. It’s sort of adorable. Daisy thinks it represents the home well- a little unconventional and a little messy but perfect as it is. Alya catches Daisy with a mug of hot chocolate, and she rushes to mimic her, grabbing the smallest mug with her chubby hands and nearly giving Jemma a heart attack as the liquid sloshes around, threatening to fall over the sides.
Once Fitz has the telescope set up, he finds the little bright dot in the sky. “We’re lucky,” he says, “It was supposed to be cloudy tonight.” Daisy looks up at the blue sky, dotted with little white pinpoints in the sky. Daisy’s been there, out in space, and it shouldn’t take her breath away as much as it does.
“There it is,” Fitz says, stepping away from the telescope to let Daisy get a look. “Theta Serpentis. Triple star system. The namesake.”
Daisy takes a seat on the little lime green stool- hunches over and peers through the telescope. It’s a little underwhelming. Daisy’s seen stars up close. She’s seen other planets with other moon systems, and when she looks at this little pinpoint in the sky, it doesn’t give her much of a shock, but she still makes all the noises of appreciation and wonder anyways. It makes Alya beam, spitting out as many facts as she can remember about that little star in the sky. She falls quiet for a moment, and as they all stare up at that scattered sky, she says, “I miss it.”
Jemma tenses, reaching out to pick Alya up with a concerned frown. Alya’s parents look exhausted- stressed and worn thin. It happens often. Daisy knows that much, and she hopes her friends know that even through these little hiccups, they really are doing amazing.
“It’s still up there,” Daisy speaks up before her friends try to find some new, creative way to reiterate the same things they’ve been saying for the past month. “Your star is still up there. No need to miss it.”
Alya rests her head on her mother’s shoulder, turning to look at Daisy. There’s a long stretch of silence, and they all wait through it. Daisy sips at her rapidly cooling hot chocolate. She can practically see the gear turning in Alya’s head. Daisy knows what it feels like- to know you’re sad or scared and not really know why exactly that is. “But it’s far away,” is Alya’s conclusion.
“Distance doesn’t mean a thing,” Daisy whispers. The night is quiet except for the sound of crickets, and they all hear it. She sees Fitz and Simmons share a look. They know better than anyone about distance. Daisy knows she’ll be that far away too. Soon she’ll be that far away for a very long time, and she wonders if their bonds will last through that too. She thinks about Mack’s words then… It’ll be different. It scares her that things are changing so rapidly. They’ve dealt with plenty of change over the past decade, but Daisy still feels afraid, because this is one change she isn’t sure if she can last through.
She thinks about Alya then, and she’s still looking at this little girl’s eyes, watching as she tries to keep them open even as she’s drifting off. It’s a good change- a really good change. And she thinks about Sousa too. Sousa and Kora and the way they were both incredibly awkward, and the way that it always made Daisy laugh. It’ll be different… but good too. She thinks it might be really good too.
With Alya officially tired out, Daisy can pat herself on the back for doing her job well. Fitz declares it bedtime, and Jemma heaves her up as they all make their way back inside the house. Jemma goes up the stairs to put Alya in bed, and Daisy rinses out the mugs before she returns to the living room where Fitz is taking apart the telescope. She isn’t sure what to say then. It’s more difficult when Jemma isn’t here to be the buffer or the glue. Daisy stands by the couch awkwardly looking at her shoes. She doesn’t really know how to fill the silence. Then she finds that she had never really noticed the silence before. There was a time when they were all so comfortable and close and silence meant nothing at all, but now she feels the weight of it.
She’s almost a bit disappointed in herself. Just a minute ago, she wasn’t even thinking about it- laughing and feeling completely comfortable- but now she feels her shoulders tense up. Daisy wants that angry, scared feeling to go away, but then a bigger part of her still holds on. She wants to have that bond with Fitz back. She wants that Fitz who pulled her back into SHIELD when she needed it most. But it feels right for Daisy to hold onto this pain and this anger, because she isn’t quite ready to let it all go. She doesn’t know if she ever can.
“Are you excited to be getting back? Into space?” Fitz asks. He doesn’t look at her, and Daisy wonders if he feels it too- that silent thing between them. There’s no way he hasn’t.
“A bit,” Daisy forces her words to come out steady, but it means that they come out a bit emotionless too. Fitz stills, little screws and pieces littered on the ground around him. Daisy tries to push through the pause. “Last time I was in space, I was getting super high on space drugs with Simmons so…”
“It’s weird. That feels like a long time ago for me,” Fitz mutters. He sets the piece in his hand down and leans back on his propped up arm. “Four years.”
“You guys deserved it. You pretty much saved the day in the end so… It’s fine that you took your time I guess,” Daisy’s spent plenty of time last month trying to see all the changes in her friends’ faces. Fitz is skinner, and he doesn’t really look old, but he definitely looks older than he did before. It was harder to find things in Jemma, but eventually Daisy noticed that smile lines had appeared on Jemma’s face. It must have been a happy four years.
Daisy looks at him now. His hair is long in a way it hasn’t been in a long time. The curls are back, and he’s finally figured out how to tame them a bit. He doesn’t look back at her. He just stares at the telescope, a ghost of a smile on his face. “We missed you guys,” he says.
Daisy wants to say ‘I missed you too’ but she doesn’t. She feels like she still misses him. It’s been so long since she’s had her Fitz- the one who felt like he best friend- the one she trusted with her life. She feels like she hasn’t seen him in years, and she still feels like she is waiting for him to come back. She wants to say ‘I missed you too,’ but instead she mumbles a “Yeah.”
Fitz looks at her then, eyes darting to her face, and that casual smile on his face falls away. Daisy doesn’t know why it makes her angry, but it just does. It’s one of those emotions she feels but can’t explain. Those never really went away, no matter how old she got. “There’s a lot… I mean it’s been a long time since I’ve had to think about the other me, but it’s still hard. There’s a lot I missed,” Fitz says. He doesn’t stumble over his words in the way he used to. “We’re…”
Different.
That’s the word he’s looking for. Daisy knows it, and Fitz knows it, but neither of them fill in that space. Daisy remembers a time when they were both different, changing- Fitz unable to find his words and Daisy seemingly in new skin- and they had found comfort in each other then. But this difference is more untouchable and unapproachable. It’s not really the difference in them that hurts, but the difference between them.
Daisy doesn’t speak, and a grimace covers Fitz’s face as he looks away. “I can’t fucking-” He cuts himself off. It shocks Daisy. She hadn’t seen him frustrated like this in what feels like forever. Alya’s had him all subdued, and he’s been living in such a constant state of content, that his sudden burst of frustration has Daisy taking a step back.
It’s too familiar, and it makes something in Daisy’s stomach turn. “Chill out,” Daisy snaps. She feels little waves of anger threatening to come back. They slowly push in and out and in and out. Little pieces of turmoil that Daisy remembers struggling with so well threaten to come back full force and sweep Daisy off her feet. She tries to run from it before high tide hits.
“I know why we’re like this Daisy,” Fitz says, “I just don’t know how to- I just wish I could-”
“Fitz,” Daisy tries to keep her voice down, aware of her friend and their sleepy child upstairs, but it comes out sharp enough to bring Fitz to a stop.
He looks back up at her then, one hand trailing into his curls as he props his elbow up on his knee. “I don’t know how to apologize for something that I didn’t do.”
Daisy feels that wave come in and out and then it crashes up and into the shore, scattering pieces of sand everywhere. “I never asked you to,” she hisses. She takes a couple of steadying breaths, even as that part of her that keenly remembers the tug of wires in her neck wants to quake him against the wall. Even after all this time, a small corner of her mind still hears May’s voice saying the same thing over and over and over again: control. Daisy tries to remember her breaths as her eyes slide over the pictures framed on the wall and the promise that lies in the sage green of the couch. She’s not in the Lighthouse. She’s in a perfect home with a different Fitz who was never put in that position to hurt her.
“It’s not that simple for me. I know it was hard to come back and find everything out- but I need you to understand that it’s not that simple for me.” Fitz’s lips press themselves together, and he removes his hand from his hair to pull at the skin around his nails. His shoulders are caved in, and Daisy watches him as her heart twists itself up again and bleeds itself dry. “I already forgave you.” She feels that burn behind her eyes, and she tires to keep it at bay. Control. Control. Control. “But I can’t just pretend like it didn’t happen. Like it didn’t hurt me or change me. I can’t pretend.”
“Okay,” Fitz mutters. He sounds small, and Daisy storms over until she’s standing in front of him. She waits until he looks up at her, and when their eyes connect, it feels like her soul is sucked right out of her. All that fight is sucked right out of her, and Daisy feels just as exhausted as she did a year ago, sleeping on the Zephyr and grappling with the question of what she would say or what she would do when she saw Fitz again. Once she thought she would quake him against a wall and get an apology the second time round with a less broken and more empathetic Fitz. Then she thought she would tell him how much she missed him, and maybe seeing him again, all would be forgiven and they could go back to sunshine and rainbows with a Fitz who had never strapped her to a table.
The truth was that in the end, Daisy would do nothing. She wouldn’t say anything or do anything. She would pretend like it didn’t happen, and she would work off muscle memory. She would coast along and hope that she could just be as she was with him, but her muscles remember another memory. They remember the pain of the implant slithering out of her neck, and her brain remembers the hurt and the betrayal and the pain. Her muscles don’t seem to know which memory to remember.
“It’s not that simple for me.”
“You’re right. Sorry.” Fitz says. He’s still looking at her, and Daisy searches his face for any remnants of the man that could have been. “I just miss you.”
“I miss you too.” It’s the most clear and simple of all of Daisy’s feelings, so she takes it and rides it and hopes that it will be enough to get her to the finish line.
“What’re we going to do about it?”
“I don’t know,” Daisy whispers. Fitz practically deflates, and Daisy takes a deep breath and tries again. It’s one of the things Daisy is best at. She’s fucked up a lot over the span of her entire life, but she’s really good at trying again. “I don’t know, but I know that… we’ve been through too much together. I’m not trying to keep you at arm’s length, Fitz. I’m not saying I want you out of my life or anything like that- I just can’t-”
“Yeah, no that makes sense,” Fitz mumbles, even as he looks pathetically small, “I mean, it’s fine. It makes sense.”
“I just need time.”
“Yeah, that makes sense,” he nods, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed.”
Daisy can practically see that guilt build up in him. It builds in him like Daisy had placed a dam in his chest, and now it makes his shoulders tense and his jaw get tight, and that isn’t what Daisy wanted. Maybe, one or two years ago, when they were different people, she would’ve wanted just that. She would’ve wanted to see him tear himself apart, but that regret or guilt doesn’t change the fact that it happened, and Daisy knows that now.
“Don’t,” Daisy snaps.
His head snaps up, all confused and kind of hurt. “What?”
“Don’t get all… whatever on me right now. Guilty. I’m not asking for your guilt, Fitz. It wasn’t you, and feeling bad about it doesn’t do shit,” Daisy says. Her jaw is tight, and she feels herself inhale that anger that had just left her. She tries to let it out again on her next exhale, but it just seems to settle like a stone in water, crushing her heart. “We can’t go back. I meant it when I said we couldn’t go back. We’re not going to be the way we were, but we can… we can move forward.”
“Move forward,” Fitz repeats slowly. He seems to think about it, cautious with where his thoughts went. “So that was an old us… but we can be a new us.”
“A new us,” Daisy whispers. She’s never thought of that before, but it seems to fit, so she nods along. She could have a new relationship with this Fitz, and it wouldn’t be the same as her last one, but it could be new and shiny and undamaged. “It’s going to take time.”
“But we’ll be okay.” It’s half a statement and half a question so Daisy just nods along. Fitz stumbles to his feet then, and they stare at each other for a moment. It feels like they’re miles apart, and yet, Daisy feels the closest to him she has in a long time. She thinks he feels all the same things she does- that confusion and anger, frustration, regret, and hope. “It’s completely fine if not, but can I hug you?”
He spits it out so quick, and his face is already screwing up like he’s expecting to get hit or told to fuck himself. Once Daisy processes it, she scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Yes, Fitz. You can.”
He uncurls slowly and looks at her a little suspiciously. “I was just making sure.”
“Yes, and that was very nice of you.”
“Yeah, cause it would’ve been fine if not.”
“I know that, Fitz.”
“Wasn’t trying to ruin the mood or anything.”
“I would’ve said no, if I didn’t want you to.”
“Right, yeah okay.”
Daisy stands ready and waits, but there’s another long beat of stillness where he doesn’t move. “Okay,” Daisy says, and she yanks him by the sleeve of his sweater. And then their arms are wrapped around each other. They stay that way for a long time, and Daisy feels the weight of his chin on her shoulder, and she has the palms of both her hands pressed against the knit of his sweater. They don’t separate for a long time. Daisy knows it’s because of more than just how nice it felt to hug again. It’s because of the fear too- fear that when they separate it will go back to that painful disconnect.
She takes a deep breath and feels this moment. She adds it to her list of new memories- better memories. She wants to collect them and hoard them until she has list after list of happy memories to make up this new relationship she has with Fitz. For now, Daisy holds him and waits.
“If I knew that other me, I’d kill him,” Fitz mutters so quiet that Daisy almost didn’t hear it.
“A slab of concrete did that for you already.”
Fitz jerks then, pulling back until they’re almost sort of holding each other, halfway in each other’s space. He’s looking at her like a hawk if hawks could be confused, and Daisy is looking back a little apprehensive. She’s shocked too. She isn’t sure where exactly that came from, but it crossed her mind and slipped out of her mouth before she could even process what it meant. After a moment, a smile grows on Fitz’s face as he starts to let out a bewildered huff of laughter. Daisy tries her best not to dissolve into giggles.
“Shut up! Shut- Shut it!” Fitz whisper shouts, frantically pressing a finger to his lips.
“You’re being louder than me!” Daisy hisses back. She’s collapsed onto the ground, one arm propped up on the coffee table and the other curled around her stomach as she tries her best to keep her laughter limited to breathless gasps.
“You’re the one who said it!” And Daisy wheezes loud enough to make Fitz cringe and flap his hands nervously.
“You both are being much louder than you think you are.” Jemma’s voice carries over to them from where she stands at the bottom of the stairs. She has her arms crossed over her chest, and she’s watching both with a smile somewhere between exasperated and amused. “She’s waiting for her goodnight kiss.”
Fitz clears his throat and nods, and Daisy locks eyes with him again for a moment. A bit of that awkwardness and tentativeness and fear returns now that the giddiness has dissipated, but Daisy tries her best to give a tentative smile, and that practically makes Fitz beam. “Duty calls,” he mutters, and Daisy snorts as he points a finger gun in her direction. He jogs over to the stairs before giving Jemma a brief peck.
Daisy tries to hide the grin on her face and the relief too. Maybe the dominant feeling that she really gets out of all of this is relief. She is so relieved that there is still a place for them to go after all that hurt.
“Tea?” Jemma suggests. She smiles like she knows everything, and Daisy thinks she probably does. Jemma’s very good with everyone’s emotions but her own.
“I swear we just had some,” Daisy responds, but she lets Jemma make her a cup anyways. Daisy’s never been a huge fan of tea. She just didn’t care much for it- sort of liking black tea and being pretty much indifferent to herbal. But Jemma’s love language seems to be making her friends prosthetics and cups of tea, so Daisy accepts the steaming cup of lemon ginger.
They make their way to the couch, legs crossed in front of them, and it reminds Daisy a little bit of their days spent together on the Zephyr in space. Only a little bit though. Jemma is much happier now, and Daisy’s thankful for it. “This is a really nice place you’ve got,” Daisy whispers, blowing at her mug, “Very happily ever after.”
Jemma smiles, and Daisy is happy to see it. Jemma’s smiles are bright and honest now. “It feels like happily ever after.” Daisy tries to push away that little worm of anxiety in her chest and tries to focus on how happy she is for her friends instead.
“So everything’s really going good for you guys?” Daisy asks. She’s had Jemma’s worries bookmarked in the back of her mind, and she wonders if she prods enough if Jemma will bite.
“Yes… and no.” Jemma hesitates. Daisy stays silent and hopes that if she waits it out, Jemma might actually start talking about her problems. “Everything is going well, but I’m… terrified.”
“You don’t have to be. The time streams basically ensured your happy ending.” Daisy starts to flip her way through all the little concerns Jemma had alluded to, trying to remember all the things she had planned on saying when she read Jemma’s emails. “And if this is about Alya going to school, she really will be alright.”
“I can’t live without her, Daisy.” Jemma takes a shaky breath. “I can’t. I can’t imagine what I would’ve done if she-” Jemma pauses and inhales sharply. Daisy quickly snatches their mugs to set on the coffee table, and she moves in closer to Jemma’s side and takes her hands. Daisy doesn’t know what it feels like to have a kid, but she sees the way Fitzsimmons looks at their daughter like she’s the focal point of the world. She still remembers what Jemma looked like- completely inconsolable- when she remembered her daughter could be in danger. Daisy tries to work off that.
“You don’t have to worry about that. Alya’s here. She’s safe- happy.”
“I know but that’s it, isn’t it? Her world is so much bigger now. I can’t imagine not having her here with me, but one day she’s going to grow up, and she won’t need me anymore. And I’m terrified. How am I supposed to just-” Jemma cuts herself off again, and Daisy waits and waits. “I mean, what kid loves their mother more than their mother loves them?”
“You’d be surprised,” Daisy whispers. She catches Jemma’s eyes and waits for the understanding to pass through Jemma’s mind. Daisy doesn’t know what it feels like to have a kid, but she does remember what it’s like to be that kid. She remembers late nights wanting to be held, Christmases filled with jealousy, and watching her mother love another daughter, wishing she could have it instead. “Look, if you love her more than she loves you, you’re doing your job alright. That’s how it’s supposed to be.”
Jemma closes her eyes for a brief moment and steadies herself. “You’re right,” Jemma gives an aborted nod, reaching for her tea, “I’m being selfish.”
“You’re like the least selfish person I know,” Daisy scoffs, “And anyways, remember what Deke said? That little girl is going to love you for the rest of her life.”
“I wish I could’ve had a chance to say goodbye,” Jemma whispers. Silence falls over them, but there’s no place for it to go, so they both wait. Daisy settles in even closer to Jemma and rests her forehead on Jemma’s shoulder until Fitz returns.
“Little monkey’s asleep,” Fitz says, “Is everything alright?”
“Perfectly fine,” Jemma gets up and starts to stretch.
Daisy supposes that’s her cue to leave. Their daughter is asleep, and they must be next. Daisy has to prepare to go to space tomorrow, so Daisy gets up too. “It was really good seeing you guys again.” She means it a lot. There are just some conversations you couldn’t have over the phone.
Daisy takes out her phone, ready to text Sousa to pick her up, but Fitz and Simmons are sharing a look. They do that a lot, and Daisy usually doesn’t mind being out of the loop, but she knows it’s about her because they keep looking at her. “What?”
“You’re leaving?” Jemma asks, her smile all practiced politeness.
Daisy pauses, her phone poised in both hands, as her eyes dart between the couple. “Yes?”
The response seems to be all Jemma needs, because suddenly she’s spurred into action. All courtesy and politeness fell away, and then suddenly Jemma is on mom-mode. “Daisy, it’s late out!”
“Uh, yeah. That’s why I was going to leave. I thought I was overstaying my welcome-”
“You think we’re just going to send you out this late at night?”
“Jemma, I think I’ve been through worse than going home past ten. Your daughter just went to bed.”
“Yes, but-”
“You should stay,” Fitz interrupts. He’s not looking at her still, hands twisting together as he picks at his nails and scratches his thumb. “We could watch a movie or something. Haven’t done that in a while.” A while is an understatement. It was more like years.
Daisy does want to stay and watch a movie, because she’s not quite ready to leave just yet. She’s not ready to say goodbye to her best friends and not see them for who knows how long. But there it is again- that little worm of anxiety that wriggles around her heart and reminds her of her fears. She doesn’t want to stay here and misunderstand her place in this home. Daisy’s done it before too many times as a kid, and too many times she’s tried to be a part of a home that was never going to be hers. It’s different now of course- these are her friends- but Daisy is still an outsider. This is their family- the happy married couple and their daughter- and Daisy is a visitor. She doesn’t want to misplace her role here.
“I have to get ready,” Daisy says, weak, “I’m leaving tomorrow.”
Jemma scoffs then, turning around and already moving the pillows on the couch to the side. “It’s not going to make a difference. I’m sure your presence can be missed for twelve hours of night. Would it really matter where you slept?” Jemma turns around, and Daisy stares at her, mouth open and unsure of what exactly to say. “Do you really have to leave?”
Fitz steps a little closer. He’s a good five feet away from her, but Daisy feels his presence all the same. He’s looking at her, one arm wrapped around his torso, the other propped up and pulling at his lip. “You should stay.”
“Okay,” Daisy whispers. Then she clears her throat and tries to find her footing again, “Yeah okay. But I get to choose the movie.”
“Go mad,” Jemma says, “I’d love to watch anything other than Doc McStuffins.”
“How do you feel about Sofia the First?” Daisy calls after Jemma, and Jemma lets out a low groan. She trudges her way up the stairs, turning at the top step to give Daisy a warning glare.
Then it’s just Fitz and Daisy again, and she pretends to look at her phone like it’s the most fascinating piece of technology she’s ever seen. She shoots Sousa a message and tries to suppress her smile as he sends back a variety of inappropriately used emojis.
“You can use this to pick whatever,” Fitz mutters, tossing her the remote. The TV displays a bunch of streaming services, and Daisy tries to think of a movie Jemma won’t kill her for picking. They usually stuck to Doctor Who or Disney movies, but Daisy doesn’t think Jemma is necessarily in the mood for Tangled or Frozen at the moment.
Eventually Jemma returns with a pair of pajamas that Daisy can change into, and Daisy comes back from the bathroom to see a bowl of popcorn, even more tea, and a tray of cookies. “Oh shit. Does having a daughter mean you guys have a bunch of snacks?” Daisy asks.
“It means the snacks are reduced sugar,” Jemma says, wiping any smile right off Daisy’s face.
“It’s okay. I have a stash in the lab.” Jemma throws a pillow at Fitz’s face, and he pretends to be unaffected, face scrunching up. “Acting like she doesn’t steal any.”
“So what kind do you have?”
“Jammie Dodgers, Jaffa Cakes-”
“I forgot you would have British snacks-”
“Hobnobs, Wotsits,” Jemma continued on, seeming to grow increasingly annoyed as Daisy nearly doubled over in laughter. “It’s just snack names Daisy. We had to eat Cheetos for years. Walkers, Ginger Snaps-”
“Actually, I like ginger snaps.” Jemma returns with them moments later, and Daisy takes the opportunity to start eating as many as she can. She’ll find a way to get them a new box… eventually. She’s eating at the coffee table with ginger snaps in her hands, when Fitz walks over. She sees him in her peripheral, and she turns to stare at his pant leg, confused. He settles next to her then. There’s space between them, but Daisy doesn’t remember the last time he’s been this close to her.
“Daisy, you know,” Fitz seems to hesitate. The eye contact between them makes him shift a little bit, and he reaches for the remote to queue up the movie Daisy chose, “You’re always welcome. You know you’re a part of our family, right? You’ll always have a home here.”
Daisy stares at him a little shocked, and she twists around to find Jemma tossing blankets and pillows onto the couch. When their eyes meet, she smiles briefly- the kind that made crinkles at the corners of her eyes. She sees reassurance and content and happiness in their eyes, and Daisy isn’t sure what to say.
They don’t really expect her to say anything. Fitz gets up and finishes helping Jemma set up. Once Jurassic Park is playing on the TV screen in front of them and all the lights are out, they’re a tangled jumble of limbs and blankets and popcorn kernels. She’s watching the screen, but really she’s thinking about other things, and Daisy thinks she’s lucky. She never would have imagined it when she was a kid alone in a van, but Daisy is probably the luckiest person in the world. She wonders about that kid who had no place to call home. She wonders how she would even begin to explain how she had gotten so many- so many places and so many people to call home.