Loving and fighting, accusing, denying I can't imagine a world with you gone The joy and the chaos, the demons we're made of I'd be so lost if you left me alone♫
[ They'd had a close call that day. She'd gone to sleep with the memory of his blood on her hands, even as he lay warm and safe beside her, but she couldn't shake the fear of what would have happened if the shot had been just a few inches to the side. His arm was bandaged but he's going to be fine — so why does her mind insist on showing her what could have happened?
She'd been too slow. She should have spotted the shooter sooner, should have quaked his ass the second she saw him, but she'd hesitated. An attempt at reasoning with a monster had nearly cost her everything, only Daniel's own quick reflexes saving him from a worse fate. But in the dream, the nightmare, she watches him crumple to the floor, a dark stain spreading across his shirt as pain and fear fills his eyes.
She's seen that look before. Her mind pulls up the memory of the time loops, when she'd held him in her arms as he'd drowned in his own blood. Somehow, she'd managed to avoid these particular nightmares until now, others taking precedent in the months they've been together. Her mom, the barn, a dozen other horrible tragedies, but never this. Now that it's arrived, though...
The bed begins to shake as the worst of it sets in, the Daniel in her dream asking her why she didn't save him. The shaking moves to the nightstand, the dresser, everything in the bedroom of their small temporary apartment beginning to vibrate while she sleeps. While she dreams of something that will haunt her forever. ]
[ Close calls happen in their line of work, even if some days, he really wonders just what that work is. It certainly isn't easily labeled, or he'd have done it already. But today, the close call was a little too close, and while they both walked away from it, there was still bloodstained bandages and broken skin left in its wake.
For his part, Daniel's asleep, but the slight frown on his face suggests that his slumber isn't completely peaceful. His wound is minor, a through-and-through, but it's still uncomfortable, even though he's taken medication to lessen the discomfort.
He can't know what horrors are playing themselves out in Daisy's nightmares, but they're not so different from the scenarios chasing around his own. Instead of him being the one who's been shot, it's her, and it's not just a gunshot wound to the arm.
In the nightmare, there's so much blood, and try as he might to stem the flow, there's too much of it. He can't save her, can't do anything, and that frown deepens into a look of complete despair.
But without warning, inexplicably, an earthquake occurs in his nightmare, and it's so unexpected that Daniel's eyes fly open and he sits up in the middle of the darkened room. It takes a moment for his brain to catch up to what's happening, and he realizes it's not an earthquake: it's Daisy.
This has happened before, and there's no easy way to pull her out of it. But soft words and gentle touches go a long way, and somehow, Daniel's always been good at that. Don't ask him when or where he learned it, but it feels like it comes naturally to him.
Ignoring how the nightstand and the dresser shakes, and everything in the room as well, he reaches out with the arm that's not hurt and bandaged, to place a light touch on the closest part of Daisy he can reach: her shoulder. ]
Hey.
[ His tone is soft, but still loud enough to hopefully penetrate whatever horrible thing she's seeing. ]
I'm right here.
[ The words he's saying might as well be a script by this point. They're committed to his memory regardless. ]
You're safe. We're safe.
[ If this fails to reach her, there's more that he can say, but he waits for a moment to see if she responds. Her nightmares always run so deep, and the hold they have on her is hard to break, but his place is right here beside her, helping her fight them off from this side of awareness. ]
[ Of course, he's dreaming of it too. They haven't been together long, but already they've both been through too much, remembering the fear and utter panic of almost losing the other. The terror of realizing how close it had been. And as much as they might joke about each member of the team having died or spent time as a zombie over the years... After everything with Coulson, Daisy knows she couldn't do that to Daniel. When she loses him, she will do everything in her power to save him, but there has to be a line that cannot be crossed.
And it is when, not if, in her mind. Because everyone she loves dies eventually.
Maybe that's why her mind is so set on twisting these memories, overlapping them and showing her what it knows will happen one day. It's not the first time she's dreamt of losing him, but it's never been quite this intense, the nightmare sinking its claws into her so deeply that it physically aches. So when his voice does finally break through its hold on her, she wakes with a gasp, her throat so tight from the fear and grief that she can hardly breathe. There's a panic in her eyes as she struggles to focus on him there beside her, alive and safe.
But then she sees him and everything in the room stops shaking — except for her. She's a trembling mess as she crosses the mile-like inches between them, her hands immediately clinging to him as she feels his unique vibration sink into her bones.
[ Some might say that maybe they moved too quickly, that they began relying on each other much too fast, but that's the thing: after everything they've been through, after everything they've seen, it doesn't feel too fast, not to him. And while there's a part of him that sometimes questions whether or not this is really what Daisy wants, he's also seen her in their vulnerable moments together, and he feels like he has no reason to doubt her or her word.
But he doesn't have time to think about that right now, because she's waking up, and she looks terrified. When she reaches out for him, he reaches right back, pulling her into a close, comforting embrace.
He's gotten used to how she feels when he has her between his arms, and he's also adjusted to the subtle vibrations he feels coming from her in vacillating waves, especially in emotionally charged moments like these. ]
You're safe, I promise.
[ He says that again, hoping the words help calm her and shake loose whatever terrifying images that seem to still be clinging to her. ]
[ No one who has lived their kind of life would ever accuse them of moving too fast. Theirs is a life where friends are lost every day, where each new mission could be their last, where the stakes always seem to keep getting higher. They give their all to this job that is so much more than just that, and some days the only thing that keeps them going is knowing they have someone to come home to. Without Daniel in her life...
She burrows further into his embrace, breathing in the smell of his aftershave and hating the light whiff of antiseptic that still clings to his skin. ]
It wasn't about me, you dork.
[ The hushed words are weak and slightly raspy, no strength or nuance behind them to provide humor. She can't manage that yet, not when the panic is still in her lungs like thick smoke. Will he understand? Can he, when he's still learning just how broken she can be? ]
[ During all this, the scene that keeps playing through his mind is finding her in that barn, badly hurt and barely with him. He knows that she's physically fine, but mentally? Emotionally? He knows she's been hurt, and badly, just like Mack had said she was. He wishes he could reach in and pull out all that hurt and put it on himself instead, but wishes aren't real. They're not possible or sensible.
What is real, possible, and sensible, is just sticking with her. Staying beside her so when she needs him, when the nightmares come, he's there to hold her and remind her that she's all right.
But then she's speaking, and it's not exactly what he expected. He thought maybe she was reliving one of the many traumatic events from her past, but she says it wasn't about her, and that can only mean one thing. ]
Well, I'm just fine, so whatever you saw?
[ He smiles and shakes his head, placing a hand against the small of her back, hoping the support helps comfort her. Also, he wishes the smell of antiseptic would wear off already, because it's not any more pleasant to him than it is to her. ]
It can go jump off a cliff. [ And for a second, he worries that maybe that's the wrong thing to say, that she'll hate him for being flippant, but he hopes that his presence here beside her will chase away all the nightmares her mind conjured up. ]
[ She doesn't hate him for saying it. She loves him for it. He knows what to say and when, navigating these moments that crash into them both like a tidal wave that wants to wipe out everything in its path. He's her foundation of stone, surviving every earthquake her life sends his way, and somehow he still wants to be there with her. Anyone else would have run away screaming by now, but he's still here, holding her through the worst of it.
Not that she hasn't seen the rougher sides of him as well. The war wasn't kind to Daniel Sousa and she's seen those memories clinging to him in the dark of night and quiet moments of the day. But sometimes she feels like her issues are a mountain and his just a small hill, and why would he possibly want to add that much to the weight he carries? ]
I'll always worry. [ She lifts her head enough to look at him, moving one hand to his cheek, then up to the soft curls of his hair. It's almost a compulsion to touch him, to keep reassuring herself that he's safe, warm and breathing beside her, because all she can see is him crumpling to the floor with his blood everywhere. ]
The universe conspired to bring us together, so you can't go d-dying on me, okay? [ She didn't intend to say it, but there it is. Her voice breaks and she gives up the fight of holding back her tears. ] You can't.
[ But that's the thing; he's not completely sure that what he's saying is the right thing to say. Sure, he's stopped letting his head get in the way and started saying what comes to mind first, but is that really the best way of handling things? He wonders sometimes.
Still, he reasons that wondering might shake the foundation that he's become for her. That realization isn't enough to plant seeds of doubt, but it is enough to make him realize that he can't let his head run away from him. Then the doubts will creep in like weeds among flowers, and then the strange kind of house of cards they're building might come crashing down.
And oddly enough, the fact that he's seen things that have threatened his calm and almost have sent him off screaming is partly what enables him to stay by her side, trying his best to be as rock-solid as he can. He navigated those storms, but only barely, and as she's seen, memories still cling to him too stubbornly to cut loose. If he can be a support to her in a way that he never had himself, then that makes everything worthwhile.
In his experience, a load is easier to carry when it's shared between two. ]
But you won't worry about yourself, will you? [ He hopes that question isn't too pointed, that it gets her to shut down. It's just something he's observed about her, how she worries over everyone else first and herself last, if she does at all.
When her hand touches his cheek and her fingers twine into his hair, he smiles. He likes it when she reaches out, because it feels like it's been a long time since anyone made contact with him the way she is right now.
And then, as if he can see the turns her mind is taking, he reaches out for her too, intending to take her free hand in his so he can give it a squeeze. ]
Hey, you said it just then: the universe conspired to bring us together, so I know it's not going to pull us apart just like that. [ He knows how strong she is, that she doesn't need his worry or his concern, but he can't keep the concern out of his eyes even as he looks intently at her. ]
I have no plans to- [ His breath hitches then, as if some part of him is having a hard time talking about this, but he pushes through it, because he has to say this. ] I have no plans to die on you, Daisy.
[ He lets go of her hand so that he can lightly brush away the tears he sees forming. ] I would have, if you hadn't swept in and saved me, so I'm not about to waste that now. [ He leans in a bit, almost as if he wants to kiss her, but he refrains, saying instead: ] I mean that. I'm not going anywhere, not if I have anything to say about it.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hold on, i still need you;
[ They'd had a close call that day. She'd gone to sleep with the memory of his blood on her hands, even as he lay warm and safe beside her, but she couldn't shake the fear of what would have happened if the shot had been just a few inches to the side. His arm was bandaged but he's going to be fine — so why does her mind insist on showing her what could have happened?
She'd been too slow. She should have spotted the shooter sooner, should have quaked his ass the second she saw him, but she'd hesitated. An attempt at reasoning with a monster had nearly cost her everything, only Daniel's own quick reflexes saving him from a worse fate. But in the dream, the nightmare, she watches him crumple to the floor, a dark stain spreading across his shirt as pain and fear fills his eyes.
She's seen that look before. Her mind pulls up the memory of the time loops, when she'd held him in her arms as he'd drowned in his own blood. Somehow, she'd managed to avoid these particular nightmares until now, others taking precedent in the months they've been together. Her mom, the barn, a dozen other horrible tragedies, but never this. Now that it's arrived, though...
The bed begins to shake as the worst of it sets in, the Daniel in her dream asking her why she didn't save him. The shaking moves to the nightstand, the dresser, everything in the bedroom of their small temporary apartment beginning to vibrate while she sleeps. While she dreams of something that will haunt her forever. ]
no subject
For his part, Daniel's asleep, but the slight frown on his face suggests that his slumber isn't completely peaceful. His wound is minor, a through-and-through, but it's still uncomfortable, even though he's taken medication to lessen the discomfort.
He can't know what horrors are playing themselves out in Daisy's nightmares, but they're not so different from the scenarios chasing around his own. Instead of him being the one who's been shot, it's her, and it's not just a gunshot wound to the arm.
In the nightmare, there's so much blood, and try as he might to stem the flow, there's too much of it. He can't save her, can't do anything, and that frown deepens into a look of complete despair.
But without warning, inexplicably, an earthquake occurs in his nightmare, and it's so unexpected that Daniel's eyes fly open and he sits up in the middle of the darkened room. It takes a moment for his brain to catch up to what's happening, and he realizes it's not an earthquake: it's Daisy.
This has happened before, and there's no easy way to pull her out of it. But soft words and gentle touches go a long way, and somehow, Daniel's always been good at that. Don't ask him when or where he learned it, but it feels like it comes naturally to him.
Ignoring how the nightstand and the dresser shakes, and everything in the room as well, he reaches out with the arm that's not hurt and bandaged, to place a light touch on the closest part of Daisy he can reach: her shoulder. ]
Hey.
[ His tone is soft, but still loud enough to hopefully penetrate whatever horrible thing she's seeing. ]
I'm right here.
[ The words he's saying might as well be a script by this point. They're committed to his memory regardless. ]
You're safe. We're safe.
[ If this fails to reach her, there's more that he can say, but he waits for a moment to see if she responds. Her nightmares always run so deep, and the hold they have on her is hard to break, but his place is right here beside her, helping her fight them off from this side of awareness. ]
no subject
And it is when, not if, in her mind. Because everyone she loves dies eventually.
Maybe that's why her mind is so set on twisting these memories, overlapping them and showing her what it knows will happen one day. It's not the first time she's dreamt of losing him, but it's never been quite this intense, the nightmare sinking its claws into her so deeply that it physically aches. So when his voice does finally break through its hold on her, she wakes with a gasp, her throat so tight from the fear and grief that she can hardly breathe. There's a panic in her eyes as she struggles to focus on him there beside her, alive and safe.
But then she sees him and everything in the room stops shaking — except for her. She's a trembling mess as she crosses the mile-like inches between them, her hands immediately clinging to him as she feels his unique vibration sink into her bones.
He's okay. ]
no subject
But he doesn't have time to think about that right now, because she's waking up, and she looks terrified. When she reaches out for him, he reaches right back, pulling her into a close, comforting embrace.
He's gotten used to how she feels when he has her between his arms, and he's also adjusted to the subtle vibrations he feels coming from her in vacillating waves, especially in emotionally charged moments like these. ]
You're safe, I promise.
[ He says that again, hoping the words help calm her and shake loose whatever terrifying images that seem to still be clinging to her. ]
no subject
She burrows further into his embrace, breathing in the smell of his aftershave and hating the light whiff of antiseptic that still clings to his skin. ]
It wasn't about me, you dork.
[ The hushed words are weak and slightly raspy, no strength or nuance behind them to provide humor. She can't manage that yet, not when the panic is still in her lungs like thick smoke. Will he understand? Can he, when he's still learning just how broken she can be? ]
no subject
What is real, possible, and sensible, is just sticking with her. Staying beside her so when she needs him, when the nightmares come, he's there to hold her and remind her that she's all right.
But then she's speaking, and it's not exactly what he expected. He thought maybe she was reliving one of the many traumatic events from her past, but she says it wasn't about her, and that can only mean one thing. ]
Well, I'm just fine, so whatever you saw?
[ He smiles and shakes his head, placing a hand against the small of her back, hoping the support helps comfort her. Also, he wishes the smell of antiseptic would wear off already, because it's not any more pleasant to him than it is to her. ]
It can go jump off a cliff. [ And for a second, he worries that maybe that's the wrong thing to say, that she'll hate him for being flippant, but he hopes that his presence here beside her will chase away all the nightmares her mind conjured up. ]
See? Nothing to worry about.
no subject
Not that she hasn't seen the rougher sides of him as well. The war wasn't kind to Daniel Sousa and she's seen those memories clinging to him in the dark of night and quiet moments of the day. But sometimes she feels like her issues are a mountain and his just a small hill, and why would he possibly want to add that much to the weight he carries? ]
I'll always worry. [ She lifts her head enough to look at him, moving one hand to his cheek, then up to the soft curls of his hair. It's almost a compulsion to touch him, to keep reassuring herself that he's safe, warm and breathing beside her, because all she can see is him crumpling to the floor with his blood everywhere. ]
The universe conspired to bring us together, so you can't go d-dying on me, okay? [ She didn't intend to say it, but there it is. Her voice breaks and she gives up the fight of holding back her tears. ] You can't.
no subject
Still, he reasons that wondering might shake the foundation that he's become for her. That realization isn't enough to plant seeds of doubt, but it is enough to make him realize that he can't let his head run away from him. Then the doubts will creep in like weeds among flowers, and then the strange kind of house of cards they're building might come crashing down.
And oddly enough, the fact that he's seen things that have threatened his calm and almost have sent him off screaming is partly what enables him to stay by her side, trying his best to be as rock-solid as he can. He navigated those storms, but only barely, and as she's seen, memories still cling to him too stubbornly to cut loose. If he can be a support to her in a way that he never had himself, then that makes everything worthwhile.
In his experience, a load is easier to carry when it's shared between two. ]
But you won't worry about yourself, will you? [ He hopes that question isn't too pointed, that it gets her to shut down. It's just something he's observed about her, how she worries over everyone else first and herself last, if she does at all.
When her hand touches his cheek and her fingers twine into his hair, he smiles. He likes it when she reaches out, because it feels like it's been a long time since anyone made contact with him the way she is right now.
And then, as if he can see the turns her mind is taking, he reaches out for her too, intending to take her free hand in his so he can give it a squeeze. ]
Hey, you said it just then: the universe conspired to bring us together, so I know it's not going to pull us apart just like that. [ He knows how strong she is, that she doesn't need his worry or his concern, but he can't keep the concern out of his eyes even as he looks intently at her. ]
I have no plans to- [ His breath hitches then, as if some part of him is having a hard time talking about this, but he pushes through it, because he has to say this. ] I have no plans to die on you, Daisy.
[ He lets go of her hand so that he can lightly brush away the tears he sees forming. ] I would have, if you hadn't swept in and saved me, so I'm not about to waste that now. [ He leans in a bit, almost as if he wants to kiss her, but he refrains, saying instead: ] I mean that. I'm not going anywhere, not if I have anything to say about it.