chuju | psl;

[ Taking care of herself is something Daisy Johnson is truly horrible at. Even years of being gently hounded by Simmons and scolded with care by Coulson and May haven't been enough to instill those instincts in herself. So for Daniel to place such importance on her wellbeing, to stay by herself to make sure she doesn't let things get too bad — it's what she needs. Honestly, she can still hardly believe that anyone would willingly want that job for themselves, but he's still here with her despite everything.

So when he asks to sit, she gives him the best answer she can manage: she rests a hand on the ground her and turns it palm up. An invitation and a request in one simple gesture. It isn't much but she hopes it's enough. ]

[ He knows she is, and that's why he's planted himself firmly by her side to try and be there for her when and if she needs him. There's a fine line between being there for a person and forcing oneself on them, and he tries not to cross the line in either direction. Their relationship has to be one between equals, and if she gives him the slightest indication that he's going too far, of course he'll step back.

For now, though, she's given him permission to sit down next to her, so that's just what he does. He doesn't say anything, deciding she needs to be the one calling the shots here, since she's the one who's having a sleepness night. Of course, if she decides that what she wants is to sit there in companionable silence, he's happy to oblige. He's happy to do whatever she wants, including doing nothing.

What he does do, however, is reach out for her hand and attempt to take it in his, if she'll let him. ]

[ Of course, she lets him. The feeling of his hand in hers is suddenly the center of her universe, the one thing grounding her to the here and now, and she can't imagine ever letting go of it. She clings to his hand like her life depends on it and just sits there with him, the silence comfortable rather than oppressive. He won't push her; she knows that and she loves him for it. (And how strange it is, to think that she loves someone and not be running in terror from it.)

That silence stretches between them and then, without warning, the words want to come out. They tumble from her lips without thought and she's too tired to regret not having the strength to hold them back. Because maybe this will be better. Maybe he'll understand, or maybe he'll lend her that strength she needs to get through this. ]

I don't know if I can do this anymore.

Well, that's the thing, isn't it? You don't have to.

[ He only breaks the silence when she does, and he punctuates that sentence by squeezing her hand gently. ]

At least, you don't have to do it on your own.

[ He can't be sure how things will look going forward, but he knows he intends to be there with her, as long as she lets him stay.

And if supporting her means just staying with her when things get heavy and letting her talk, cry, or scream, he'll do that. He'll do whatever it takes to get her through. ]

[ What did she ever do to deserve this wonderful man? After all the pain and suffering in her life, is he how the universe is balancing the scales for her? Is that why the stars aligned in just the right way to bring them together when they should never have been able to even meet? ]

I keep seeing her. [ Her voice is so small when she speaks, like she's trying not to disturb the air around them... or the memories that are haunting her. ] It happened so fast, but I should've— I watched my mom die and I just keep remembering it, over and over. I couldn't save her. Again.

[ He asks himself all the time what he's done to deserve her. Even when he feels like he's half a man, or when he feels the sting of rejection (it doesn't happen as often these days, but it occasionally rears its ugly head), she's always there to chase those thoughts away and to remind him again that he's valued, and more importantly, he's loved.

But right now, he's not the important one, the center of the picture. She is, and he has to be in the moment for her. ]

I'm sorry. Sorry you had to see that, that it had to happen.

[ He's afraid he's going to say something wrong. This is uncharted territory, but he has to find the right words to say himself. ]

I know you, though. If there was anything you could have done, you would have brought mountains down to make it happen.

[ He's sure that won't ease her mind, and part of him is afraid he'll just cause her anger on top of her pain. ]

[ He is so loved. Even when it might terrify her to admit that she loves him, because in her experience loving someone usually means losing them, she doesn't hesitate to make sure he understands that she cares. Especially when he needs it most. Daniel Sousa is an incredible man who does not deserve the things his generation put him through and she will do everything she can to make up for the pain he's endured in his life.

The idea that he might want to do the same for her, though... That's one she still has trouble grasping.

His words now don't cause anger to flare within her. She's too tired for anger, only having the energy for guilt and grief, two old friends she's carried with her so many times before. Her vision swims with tears that easily fall, slipping down her cheeks in hot streaks. ]

I could have, though. I should have, the second he showed up. But I let him speak. He told her who I really was and she— [ Her throat tightens and she wants to look over at him, to seek comfort in those kind eyes she knows so well, but she can't tear her gaze away from that spot on the floor where her mother's body had lain. ] She was protecting me. I finally met the version of my mom who could love me and she died because of it.

Edited (noticing a typo HOURS later...) 2020-11-07 15:14 (UTC)

[ Knowing what he does about her and her backstory, he just feels a strong compulsion to show her love and to show her that he values her, because nearly every part of her childhood was lacking in those areas. It galls him knowing that she was passed around from foster home to foster home, when, as far as he's concerned, she deserved a good childhood and an even better upbringing. She doesn't deserve the hand she was dealt any more than he deserves the reactions he got from his peers.

So yes, he wants to do the same for her, and then some. And even if she never fully grasps it, he'll just keep on trying to show her and tell her that he cares. ]

It's not your fault, though. How could you have known what was going to happen?

[ He's nervous, now, twisting his fingers together, because this feels like treading on ground that he has no right to even stand on. ]

She did it because she loves you. [ Even though she's gone, he's sure of that. It's silly, but he feels like he has to use the present tense of that word. It's an important distinction in his mind. ] Protecting you was her telling you she loves you, even if she didn't have time to actually use those words.

[ His gaze travels over to the same spot she's looking at, and even though they're not currently making eye contact, there's a sympathetic look in his eyes. ]

It's not fair that she had to die before you could really get to know each other, and I'm sorry. [ There's a pause as he works to shove down the lump that's formed in his throat, thinking about how hard this must be for her. ]

I'm just really sorry.

[ Listening to him, her grief swells like the rising tide of an ocean, a surging wave within her threatening to tear down every piece of her and leave destruction in its wake. But even as it fills her up, her love for him is there on the surface, floating above everything like a little lifeboat in the darkness.

And then the wave hits and all she can do is ride out the storm. The idea that some version of her mother might have loved her tears a sob from her throat, chased by another brought on by the knowledge that she'd never hear those words spoken aloud. More follow, tears burning down her cheeks and her throat feeling like it's been scraped with shards of glass, and before she knows it, she's curled onto her side, her head on his leg like back in that horrible barn. One hand clings to his leg while the other presses against her chest, like someone she might be able to physically push this pain back down into the darkness where it belongs. ]

[ He can tell when the tide turns, and when the fragile hold she seemed to have on her emotions breaks. It makes something deep inside him break for her too, because, well- when one of them hurts, the other does too. It's not some crazy symbiotic relationship, but like it or not, they're so deeply connected to each other now that it can't be any other way: two halves of a whole. ]

Hey, I'm here.

[ It all happens so quickly, but he's ready when she curls up and places her head against his leg. One hand goes right to her hair, to stroke it comfortingly while he tries not to move too much. Thank goodness for the prosthetic leg he has now, because this would have been ten times as uncomfortable with that old false leg of his.

Still, it would have been worth it either way, because she needs a rock, and he's glad to be that for her. ]

I'm right here. [ An idea comes to him then, but he pushes it away because it feels like it's not the right time to say what he's wanted to say for awhile. Now, when she's crying all her hurt out, feels ill-timed.

So, he just says it silently while he sits there with her, holding her tightly with his free hand.

I love you. ]

[ Just having him there with her is more than she could ever have asked for. So many other people would have run at the first sign of something like this, afraid at what could have broken the fierce Agent Johnson or disappointed that the tough Quake could be laid low like the rest of them. Yet here he is, staying of his own free will, trying to help her get through this moment.

She loves him so much in that moment that it makes her heart want to burst. Even as she's drowning in her grief, the love she feels for him just continues to grow. It helps to hold on to that emotion in the minutes that pass, just as holding on to him physically helps. She's comforted by his hand on her hair just like she had been in that barn, each and every stroke of his fingers like a balm to her battered soul.

When those minutes have passed and her tears calm, she's left feeling hollow, as though she'd cried out every emotion that ever existed within her — except for one. Clinging to her is a whisper of that love, affection coursing through her veins and filling her lungs with every breath. Because for some crazy reason... he's still there at her side.

Slowly sitting up, she scrubs the back of a hand over face, her palm covered the end of her sleeve. It doesn't do much, of course — she knows she looks like a blotchy mess as she turns to look at him with puffy eyes. ]

Thank you. [ It's the only thing she can think to say. The only thing she'll let herself say. ]

[ That's the thing, though. Nothing fazes him anymore, not after meeting the likes of Dottie Underwood, or Whitney Frost, or any of the other strange and bizarre things he's encountered in his time. And then there's the things that happened technically after his time (it's still strange, knowing he was supposed to die, but didn't thanks to SHIELD's intervention). The existence of Inhumans is something he's still wrapping his head around, but he's considerably further ahead than he was when he first heard about it.

The point is, he's not going to run. He's not going anywhere, not if he has anything to say about it.

He just waits, continuing to stroke her hair slowly, hoping to communicate without words how much he loves and cares about her, and wishing he could take all her hurt and losses away. But of course, he can't do that; all he can do is stick by her, and that's exactly what he means to do.

When she finally sits up, he still stays close by, because blotchy mess or not, she's his blotchy mess, and to his admittedly biased eyes, she's never looked more beautiful. ]

Hey, you know I'll always be here if you need me. [ But his lips turn up into a small smile, warm and loving and hopefully as comforting as a hand against her hair. ]

[ The fact that he hasn't run screaming or ended up projectile vomiting in a corner still astounds her, to be honest. Daniel Sousa had exceeded expectations in the way he'd embraced the future, rolling with every new thing thrown at him and keeping his shit together when the mission demanded a cool and steady head. She's so proud of him for that, and so incredibly impressed. She's never met anyone quite like him... except maybe her dad. Which, considering she means Phil Coulson, is rather high praise.

The smile he gives her is everything she needs to push past the fear that's been clawing at her chest and finally ask the question that's been haunting her for days. ]

And what if I couldn't be here anymore? [ She's sure she's wearing her emotions all over her face right now, but she just can't bring herself to hide them anymore. ]

[ Honestly, he's never been much of a screamer, and he tries not to projectile vomit (unless he's sick and can't help it), because no one wants to clean that sort of thing up. Some things that he's seen so far have fazed him, despite his claims to not be fazed by things, but his resolve to not go anywhere remains mostly unshaken. And if he knew she was drawing comparisons between Phil Coulson and himself, he'd become a little flustered and turn red.

At first, he thinks he doesn't understand her question or what she's asking, but he stays silent to ponder it before going with his gut reaction. ]

If that means what I think it means, then I'd just follow you wherever you went.

[ Nothing short of her telling him he needs to go would get him to stop following her. ]

[ It's exactly what she needs to hear, what she'd been hoping to hear but could never bring herself to ask for. To have him confirm that he'd continue to follow her the way he has been for weeks now... To know that what happened between them on the Zephyr wasn't just stress or the end of the world influencing their emotions... It means everything to her.

The relief she feels at this knowledge pushes aside any lingering fear she has long enough for her to give in and say what she really wants to say. He deserves to hear it and have words confirm what she hopes he already knows. ]

I love you, Daniel Sousa. [ With hope and adoration in her eyes, she says those terrifying words and waits. ]

[ As if he could want or say anything different than just that. Now that he's met her, he can't imagine making it in this crazy new world without her by his side. Sure, he could probably fumble his way through, but the less-than-logical part of his brain doesn't want to imagine what that might be like. It's just one of those things: now that he's found her, he doesn't want to let her go.

Unless, of course, it happened to be in her best interest, but he likes to think they'd work things out before they agreed to split up. Although, he and Violet weren't able to make it work, but he squashes that thought before it can take root. Daisy isn't like Violet, and a good part of him is determined to make this last, whatever it takes.

He opens his mouth intending to say something, but he closes it again because she's just gone and said those words, and it takes him completely by surprise. He meant to say that to her first, but he thought it felt wrong under the circumstances. But she's gone and surprised him again, and for a moment, he just stares before finding his voice again. ]

I love you too. [ It's been so long since he felt like he could say those words to anyone, but he's never meant it more than he does right now. ]

Honestly, I've wanted to say that to you for- [ His breath catches in his throat, and he has to clear it before he can continue. ] For a long time now.

[ She would let him go in a heartbeat if it would save him. Sacrificing her own happiness for him to live is a choice she would never hesitate to make, not after she's lost so many people she's loved. The thought of potentially losing him in any way terrifies her, but she sits there waiting for his reaction with her heart in her throat.

And then... there it is. For a moment, she almost believes she imagined it, but he keeps talking and he's right there and—

She practically lunges for him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders in the most heartful, desperate hug. He's her anchor, the solid pillar in her life she knows she can count on, and he loves her. ]

Me too. [ She whispers it, her fingers tightening around his shirt. ] I've never said that to anyone before. I didn't have the chance. [ And she'd never heard those words in return, not like this. It's so much better than she could ever have imagined. ]

[ But by that same token, he'd do all that and more for her, if he thought it would help. Mack had said she'd been hurt, and he can see the signs of that. It's that hurt that he wishes he could take from her and onto himself, but since he can't do that, he just wants to be there for her however he can.

And then she's hugging him, and he's leaning into it, arms reaching out to wrap around her as well. ]

I know what you mean. [ He's come close to saying those words before, but for reasons he's only just beginning to understand, the moment and the timing didn't feel right. ] I've always thought that kind of thing should be saved for that one really special person: the kind that takes awhile to find, but when you do, you know it's time.

[ Suddenly feeling bashful, then, he looks down just slightly, because he's saying words he wasn't sure he'd ever say, and expressing thoughts he's never put into actual audible words before.

And then he looks up at her again, hoping he hasn't scared her away with his admission. ]

Yeah...

[ She nods her agreement, finding words exceptionally difficult at this particular moment. It's true that that one special person took a while to find — a long while. She'd thought before that she might have found that person in Lincoln, but in truth, she'd never really had the chance to find out. They'd only just begun to really know each other that way, and they were both still learning how to accept themselves... Maybe things would have been different if they'd had more time, but she'd lost him before she'd even had the chance to tell him how she felt.

And now, here's this beautiful, charming, good man who has never done anything but support her, saying those precious words. It doesn't seem like it could possibly be real.

She leans in, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead to his, and just breathes in the air around him. He's real. He's staying. And then she knows what to say. ]

I don't know what I did to deserve the universe letting me find you.

[ He's content to just stay like that for awhile, because this is nice: being this close to her, having her in his space... It's something he's wished for, but he felt like it had to be on her terms. ]

I know exactly what you did. You were just- [ This isn't going to make any sense, but he plows ahead anyway. ] You were being you. That's what you did.

[ He means that by her being her wonderful, amazing, complicated self, their lives intersected and she saved him, and now they have an equally wonderful, amazing, complicated future ahead of them. ]

[ For so long, Coulson and the others have done their best to instill in her a sense of true self-worth. Growing up certain that no one ever wanted her had done a lot of damage emotionally, and while she'd tried hard to embrace her team's well-meaning messages, it had still taken a long time to really start to sink in. Somehow, having Daniel say it is easier to accept. No, he hasn't seen all the bad pieces of her, those jagged sharp edges and terrible decisions of her past, but maybe he'll be able to accept and look past them. She's pretty sure that's what people who love you are supposed to do.

She raises her hands to gently frame his face, thumbs resting along that adonic curve of his jaw, and sighs quietly with a soft smile. ]

You're such a dork. I've already fallen for you, you don't have to keep saying things like that.

[ Sure, he's still learning about Daisy and her past, at least what she lets him see, but he's already worked out that she's had it rough. It feels a lot like prying, so he tries not to look too closely, but sometimes it feels like she still doesn't quite believe that she's worth it, that she deserves good things. That's one of the many reasons why he tries to show that to her through word and action, and hopes that somehow, she knows how much he values her and that she is someone special, even irreplaceable.

Teaching someone to believe in their own self-worth is easier said than done, but Daniel knows he has to try to help fill in some of the gaps that are leftover.

He smiles when she places her hands against his face, because he likes it when there's contact between them. ]

Maybe I am a dork, but also, maybe I just feel like saying nice things to you. Every word is true, by the way.

[ In case there was any doubt anywhere. And after a moment's pause, he can't help but add: ] Are you sure it's not me that's already fallen for you?

[ Because he has: head over heels. ]

[ It's so hard for her to hear nice things and just accept them. Only the superficial things ever seem real — she knows she's attractive and an incredible hacker and a great fighter. But hearing that she's a good person, that she's made good choices in her life and deserves good things? Somehow, she just can't accept something like that, at least not easily.

But this isn't the time to disagree with his heartfelt sentiments, nor to launch into an examination of her own terribly low sense of self-worth. Right now is the time to let her hands fall to his chest, the warmth of her palms sinking through the fabric of his shirt, and just smile at this amazing man who for some reason loves her. ]

Well, I sure hope so, considering what you said not five minutes ago. [ She smiles softly at him, every bit of affection she has for him written clearly across her face. ] Come on, Danny boy. Let's go back to bed.

[ Well, if he has to spend his whole life trying to convince her that she's amazing and beautiful and that she deserves all the good things that life has to offer, he'll do it, and gladly.

But of course, when she's this close to him, and her hands are resting on him in just that way, he tends to lose track of his train of thought. Forget about the way she's smiling at him. If she keeps that up, he'll forget all about speaking, and just lose himself staring at her and marveling at how he got so lucky. ]

That's the best thing I've heard anyone say all day. Well, except for you telling me you love me, I mean.

psl;

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