With most people, Daisy is a pro at faking absolutely anything. She can wear whatever facade she pleases like a perfectly sculpted mask and the vast majority of people would never even question if it were true. But then there are certain individuals who see right through those masks to the broken woman underneath...
Some days, she doesn't know which is worse: having the mask fool everyone around her or having the people she loves see through it. Both tend to end with her feeling guilty and alone, regardless.
"I don't need—" she starts, the sentence breaking off as the room tilts around her again. Well, maybe she could use a little help. "Okay. Thank you."
She definitely needed whether she admitted it or not, but she'd accepted and that was enough. Under normal circumstances he'd be more comfortable letting her go wherever she wanted without an escort but unsteady was all the excuse he needed to grab himself a few extra minutes. It was exactly the reason he'd walked her home all those years ago.
Steve wasn't thinking about wanting anything, didn't have any ulterior motives. At least not consciously. He didn't think about why he wanted to spend more time with Daisy, didn't expect it to lead anywhere. He just found himself drawn to spending time with her in whatever way he could. If that meant just walking her home even if she didn't really want him there, he'd take what he got.
He left a few bills of his own on the bar as he stood, offered her his arm this time. She'd taken it naturally before, he assumed she wouldn't mind. "Just to get a bit of fresh air in you." If she wound up wanting to run after a couple of blocks, it wasn't meant to be. "Headed home?"
It wasn't subtle, just aimed at learning a bit more about her. Getting to know if there was a chance of seeing her again or if she was just passing through.
Accepting help isn't something Daisy Johnson is very good at. It comes from a childhood of having only herself to depend on and constantly worrying about how others perceived her, whether she admitted it or not. Needing help from others might result in her being too much of a burden to remain in any place that might finally accept her, so she'd gotten very good over the years at pretending everything was fine. Sometimes she even fools herself into believing it — until everything comes crashing down around her again.
She stares at Steve's arm for a few moments, not comprehending why he would be offering it to her like that, before the memory filters back through her alcohol-fogged thoughts. Oh. Right. It takes her another couple of seconds to hook her arm through his, though after a single step she uses it for actual support as her body reminds her of her precarious balance issue.
And then his question makes her laugh, a low dark thing that reveals far too much pain for her own liking. She shoves those feelings back down into the darkness where they belong, but forces out an explanation she feels he deserves. "I haven't had one of those in... a long time. Not here, anyway."
"No?" Again, she was so like him that if he didn't know better he'd think she'd been sent to worm her way into his life, get close to him. He knew better but it was exactly what was happening every second he talked to her. Without any effort she drew him in, made him want to be close and get to know her. Maybe if he'd gone for it back when they'd first met, if he even thought about it now, he'd be aiming for something more than a conversation.
"Where, then?" Any home was better than none but it was a hard thing to find; Steve knew that from experience. He'd never really managed to find his own, only some people that had made anywhere feel a bit more like home. He still had a few of those people, most were lost. A little family felt better than being alone.
Daisy would probably understand that if he said it but that was a side, a weakness, Steve didn't show to anyone.
If Daisy had any idea of the effect she was having on him, she'd run straight in the opposite direction and leave him behind. Sure, some part of her would ache and mourn the loss of... whatever this connection is between them, but better to suffer this small amount of pain than wait for something else down the line. Steve Rogers is too good a man to be tied to someone like her — a broken woman who can barely make it through a day without work to ground her.
No, she needs to keep her distance, not let herself drift ever closer with each second that passes. Even if that's so much easier said than done.
"Home was my team," she answers sadly, feeling as utterly lost as she sounds. It's the alcohol making her admit this, and the alcohol causing her words to slur slightly at the end. "But we're not together anymore."
Steve understood where her sadness was coming from, this time. His team had been his family, his home, and he knew what it was like to feel lost without those people. He'd spent a good while floundering in the aftermath of the snap, not even work had been able to ground him but at least he'd had the distraction of making sure the world didn't completely fall apart.
"You said everyone's gone their own ways," he said with a nod. "Makes sense you miss them." Same as anyone who had lost someone. Same as he did. Even having been on the outs with some, he missed them. He mourned what he'd lost as much as who.
"Probably wouldn't help too much to just go and see them either, huh?" It wouldn't be the same. He understood that too. Even seeing Natasha every now and then, walking around the same old halls, it didn't make it better. Just tolerable. And her sadness gave him something to focus on that wasn't his own, just the same as focusing on Daisy did. Steve had never been very good at dealing with things emotionally, but he could be supportive. That he'd gotten down.
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Some days, she doesn't know which is worse: having the mask fool everyone around her or having the people she loves see through it. Both tend to end with her feeling guilty and alone, regardless.
"I don't need—" she starts, the sentence breaking off as the room tilts around her again. Well, maybe she could use a little help. "Okay. Thank you."
no subject
Steve wasn't thinking about wanting anything, didn't have any ulterior motives. At least not consciously. He didn't think about why he wanted to spend more time with Daisy, didn't expect it to lead anywhere. He just found himself drawn to spending time with her in whatever way he could. If that meant just walking her home even if she didn't really want him there, he'd take what he got.
He left a few bills of his own on the bar as he stood, offered her his arm this time. She'd taken it naturally before, he assumed she wouldn't mind. "Just to get a bit of fresh air in you." If she wound up wanting to run after a couple of blocks, it wasn't meant to be. "Headed home?"
It wasn't subtle, just aimed at learning a bit more about her. Getting to know if there was a chance of seeing her again or if she was just passing through.
no subject
She stares at Steve's arm for a few moments, not comprehending why he would be offering it to her like that, before the memory filters back through her alcohol-fogged thoughts. Oh. Right. It takes her another couple of seconds to hook her arm through his, though after a single step she uses it for actual support as her body reminds her of her precarious balance issue.
And then his question makes her laugh, a low dark thing that reveals far too much pain for her own liking. She shoves those feelings back down into the darkness where they belong, but forces out an explanation she feels he deserves. "I haven't had one of those in... a long time. Not here, anyway."
no subject
"Where, then?" Any home was better than none but it was a hard thing to find; Steve knew that from experience. He'd never really managed to find his own, only some people that had made anywhere feel a bit more like home. He still had a few of those people, most were lost. A little family felt better than being alone.
Daisy would probably understand that if he said it but that was a side, a weakness, Steve didn't show to anyone.
no subject
No, she needs to keep her distance, not let herself drift ever closer with each second that passes. Even if that's so much easier said than done.
"Home was my team," she answers sadly, feeling as utterly lost as she sounds. It's the alcohol making her admit this, and the alcohol causing her words to slur slightly at the end. "But we're not together anymore."
no subject
"You said everyone's gone their own ways," he said with a nod. "Makes sense you miss them." Same as anyone who had lost someone. Same as he did. Even having been on the outs with some, he missed them. He mourned what he'd lost as much as who.
"Probably wouldn't help too much to just go and see them either, huh?" It wouldn't be the same. He understood that too. Even seeing Natasha every now and then, walking around the same old halls, it didn't make it better. Just tolerable. And her sadness gave him something to focus on that wasn't his own, just the same as focusing on Daisy did. Steve had never been very good at dealing with things emotionally, but he could be supportive. That he'd gotten down.