[ 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}
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.