evite | ✈ open post 2kforever

I had no idea I disgusted you so much. [ he's too tired to try and explain himself and to tell her that she has no idea what she's talking about. what she sees isn't the whole story no matter how deep her sources go and no matter how much information she has at her fingertips. it's not the whole story. she doesn't know the people and she doesn't know the motivations.

she doesn't know him, it seems. ]

But, you can just continue acting like you know everything and everyone. I don't care what you think about me anymore. [ he did and he does but he's got other, more important things to do. she can hate him all she wants as long as she gives him some information.

but first, he walks his way into her kitchen and yanks something cold out of her freezer, wrapping it around the burn on his arm. the cold hurts and he curses loudly several times before biting down on the pain and coming back out, holding the compress to his forearm. ]

If you want money, I'll give it to you. I just need information and then I'll go and you can go back to judging me and my friends all you want.

I never said you disgusted me. Don't be so melodramatic, you sound like Frost.

[ esme. she hasn't had many run-ins with the blonde, but every single one has been over the top. the woman had reminded her of ruby, with the platinum blonde and the one-track-mind... not to mention the willingness to do just about anything to make her goals a reality. it had been a discomforting pleasure to quake her unconscious during their last meeting. an unfortunate requirement of the job that so graciously gave daisy a single evening off tonight. ]

And you obviously do care, or you wouldn't be here. You'd get information from the cartel, or from your merry band of misfits — [ she pauses, suddenly distracted from her show by a new train of thought. ] You can't, can you? You can't ask them, because whatever dirty info you want from me, you can't let them know you need.

[ now that's interesting. ]

Is that all I am to you, Marcos? Just a hot piece of ass and your own personal Ask Jeeves?

You say things like that but you don't know what you're talking about. You don't know what they put her through while she was in jail. You don't know what they do to us when Sentinel Services picks us up. You can sit here in your apartment and watch television but we don't get that luxury.

[ and he wasn't want to hear about what they'd get if they'd joined the underground with her shield. it wouldn't have worked. their goals were different and he knows for a fact that people would be left behind. ]

This was a mistake.

[ fuck it, he'd face reeva payge without any information. he doesn't want to deal with this or her tonight. he doesn't want to stand here and be ragged on for his choices.

he takes the compress off his arm and throws it onto her coffee table. ]

Have a good night off. I've got things I have to do to make sure people don't die.

Oh, shut up. [ there's a bitterness that seeps into her tone, her voice sharp and irritated. ] You don't fucking know a damn thing about me, either, yet you're perfectly content to act all high-and-mighty when somebody calls you out on your shit.

[ the television finally gets its peace, switched off with a too-rough click of the remote that's tossed aside as she gets up to face him again. her arms cross over her chest, defensive. ]

Wah, wah, you have it hard because you're weird and different. Wake up call, dickhead, so did I. For pretty much my entire life, I've gotten the shitty end of the stick, but things are finally starting to make sense for me, and now you want to throw that in my face like it makes me somehow not good enough for you? I've had people die on me and I've watched people get sucked back into hell, but I finally decided to let myself actually like someone for once — and now, the guy I actually thought I was getting close to? The one who supposedly was used to all this weird shit? [ yeah, that's you, marcos. enjoy the words dripping with acid now. ] He up and goddamn bailed on me the second things got a little too serious.

[ the most desperately taken inhale of breath ever, followed by a period of exactly half a second of silence. ]

You think you have the world's worst life, just because you call yourself mutant instead of inhuman. Doesn't matter what you call yourself, you're still an asshole.

What shit? Me wanting to take care of my people? Me wanting to make sure that those that have been forgotten aren't forgotten anymore? That they can be protected from people like the Inner Circle. So, they're not used like weapons? That shit?

[ he straightens when she comes closer, taking advantage of the height difference between them. ]

I didn't bail on you. You let me go, Daisy. When I said that we weren't going to join you, you decided that was it. You remember that, right? I said no so you took everything because maybe you wanted to punish me? I don't know. I never got to ask because you left.

[ he pokes a finger into her chest, uncaring of the fact that she was just as dangerous as he was. he was mad. he was furious. ]

I didn't want to bail. Just because I wanted to keep the Mutant Underground separate didn't mean I didn't want to be with you. But you took it that way! Maybe you were looking for an out the entire time!

[ he snaps the words off and then shakes his head. ] I don't regret my decision. We need to stay separate. We can help more people that way. But fuck you for thinking it was a personal slight against you.

I wanted to help you! [ god, he is the most arrogant, sure-of-himself pain in the ass she's ever dealt with. ] I wanted — I offered to help you. To help them. To help you find a new safehouse, to make sure they had food and shelter and safety. But you were too fucking busy pretending like there was absolutely nothing good that SHIELD could offer you, like we were some goddamn Nazi shooting squad coming to take you out!

[ like she was coming to take them out. so yeah, she took it personally. ]

What was I supposed to do, Marcos? Still be in love with you while you walked around shitting on everything I was doing? There's no magic line that's work life and home life when you do what we do — and you know that! You always knew that, from the day you shined a light in my face, you knew things would be messy and complicated. You knew.

[ she's repeating herself, and he's shoving his hands against her, and daisy reacts on instinct. her palms come up hard, wrapping tight around his wrists and dragging them up and over his head. he may have a bit of height on her, but she's got training under her belt. the pull is hard, sharp; if it hurts, it's because it's supposed to. ]

Don't touch me. You don't get to touch me anymore. [ toe-to-toe, her breath is hot against his face. ] Don't come back here if you don't want what I have to offer. All of it. I'm not a buffet you get to pick and choose from.

I didn't shit on what you were doing. I disagreed. Can anyone not disagree with you? SHIELD isn't what the Mutant Underground needs. It won't work. So, I disagreed. [ there was a difference. he doesn't think he was ever malicious or outright insulting to what she did but he didn't want to be involved. he didn't want to risk the lives of those who trusted the mutant underground by hitching their wagons to something that could look similar to the inner circle. they were organized, they had technology and while they were offering to help, the underground had been burned before. ]

We could have tried! [ he'd wanted to try. ] We could have at least seen if we could --

[ his words are abruptly cut off when she grabs his arms and ordinarily, it wouldn't hurt all that much. but one of his arms is still a raw mess of burned skin and tissue from whatever reeva had done to him. he gasps and actually shakes a bit in her grip, trying to pull himself loose. ]

Let go of me. Let go of me. [ he spits the words at her, trying yet against to yank himself free because he needs that pain to stop. it's not as intense as it had been when he'd been faced with reeva's ability but it still fucking hurts. ]

Let go of me or I'm going to pass out on your fucking floor. [ and then she'd have to deal with him for a little while longer because he wouldn't be able to do anything but lay there like a lump. ]

Do you even hear yourself? "We could have tried"? We could have tried to work together, too, but you decided way before anyone could even get involved that you didn't want anything to do with us! Who died and made you king of the misfit toys, huh? Did you ask your friends if they wanted our help?

[ no. he didn't. she was willing to bet good money that he didn't. that he decided because he thought he was right. god, isn't that just what men do? ]

Why would I try with you when you won't try with me? Why do you always have to do this bullshit double standards thing, Marcos? Why can't you ever take your head out of your ass for two seconds and realize what you're saying is totally garbage before you say it!

[ but then he hisses at her, yanks back, and the heat of his skin begins to sink into her own. it's different than when he palms her, when that light warms her from the inside out. this is angry, dangerous; a glance shows her more than she wants to see, and daisy drops her hands immediately, taking a step back for good measure.

there's concern in the furrow of her brow, but she doesn't voice it. ]

I'm not your enemy, but you sure as hell want to treat me like one.

I came here tonight because I don't think you're my enemy. [ but he was regretting that now, arm cradled protectively against his stomach. it's throbbing again and he needs to get out of here so he can let someone look at it. ]

You go on and on about what I've done but you've judged me pretty well yourself. You're putting everything bad that happens to these people on me when all I wanted to do was keep them safe. That's all I've wanted to do with anyone.

[ he gives his head a violent shake. ] Don't tell anyone I was here. I won't come back.

Why would I — what the fuck, why would I tell anyone? Do you think I want you to get hurt?

[ she's just so flabbergasted by his entire reaction, she doesn't know what else to do. she's not stopping him from going to the door, but she's not pushing him out of it either. she's... well, stuck. metaphorically speaking. ]

Why do you think I'm this terrible person who doesn't care about those people at all? I do care — about them, about you, about all of it! Hell, I let you back in here, didn't I? I could have told you to go fuck yourself in an alleyway, but I didn't. I let you in because I always let you in, Marcos, you're...

[ suddenly, she stops, two hands held palms up in front of her in surrender. there's a lump in her throat and dangerous words on her tongue, and neither of those can come out. ]

I don't know what you want me to say. If you're going to go, just go.

[ voice small, defeat in every breath. ]

I don't think you're terrible at all! [ god, does he have to tattoo that on his face? ] But, you took me turning your offer to join SHIELD as a personal affront. You took it as me not wanting you and I don't want I can do to change your mind. So, I'm done trying.

[ he had better things to do than beat his head against a wall over and over and over again. ]

I know you care. I get it but I stand my decision to keep things separate. I always will. But that doesn't mean anything about you personally. You made it that way.

[ he rubs at his arm, feeling the heat sink into his fingertips. god, he hopes caitlin's around when he gets back. ]

And I don't know what else there is to do but leave.

If I said I didn't like mutants, you'd take that personally, wouldn't you? [ yes, he would, because she's been there when they've been at bars and people have said shitty things about mutants or inhumans or "superheroes" or "weirdos" or whatever term of phrase has been popular in the news that week. there's always people who don't like the freakshow. ] How do you think that feels for me when you go on about how you don't like SHIELD? How you don't trust them? I am SHIELD. It's not just a job, Marcos, it's my whole life.

[ fingertips drag down her face. she feels like they're going in circles. like it's a never-ending loop of almost, where no one's ready to just give in and close the door for good. ]

I wanted you to be part of that. I wanted you to be part of my life. You don't have to be an agent, you don't have to sign your life away, you don't have to give anything or do anything at all. Just let me protect you. Protect them. The kids, the people who can't defend themselves. That's my job, that's my whole fucking job, being the goddamn SHIELD.

[ she wants to — cry. scream. punch him in the face. ]

If you want me, then show me that. Trust me. If I'm wrong, if it doesn't work, then... then I'll leave. I'll go with you, and I'll leave SHIELD, and you can lord it over me for the rest of my life that I was wrong and I got you hurt and it was my fault.

You have to understand something. Most of the people that we're sheltering, they're not going to trust you or your people. They're not. We've been on our own for years now and it's been dangerous but it's been safe. We haven't had to worry about being betrayed.

[ and now here he was, considering going back here and proposing this. proposing that they leave themselves open and vulnerable to an organization that they know little about. he's been able to fill in some blanks but even he doesn't know the entirety of what she does. ]

It's not just me. People have been sold out by their families, by their friends so if I go back there and ask them this, you'd better be goddamn sure that every single person you work for is solid and true. Because I will personally come for them if they aren't.

[ he trusts her. that doesn't mean he trusts everyone associated with her. ]

And I can't make any promises. If I go back and they still don't want to, you stop acting like I've ruined your goddamn life. Because there's no guarantee.

So what do you want? What am I supposed to give you that will magically answer everyone's questions, that will prove that we do what we say we do? Do you want me to stand in the front of the class and take questions? Do you want a lie detector test? Do you want to cut me open and see if my insides match the outsides?

[ so much melodrama... but at the same time, she means it. whatever it will take, whatever answers he's seeking or proof they want, she'll give it. he speaks of the mutant underground as his people, but to daisy, it's all the same. people who can do incredible things not by choice but by blood, who have been outcast from society through no fault of their own, who deserve safety and protection and happiness when the world outside would deny it to them every day of their lives. that's being the shield. ]

Whatever you want me to do, I'll do it. Whatever they want to know, I'll tell them. I just want them to be safe without having to live in a death trap of an abandoned warehouse.

[ she sighs, tired and exhausted — both from this fight and from life in general. her one night off. what a joke. ]

Nobody's getting drafted into a war they don't want to fight. That's not what this offer is. If they want to fight, we can use the help — and whatever they give, I'll make sure they get back.

[ a pause. ]

But let's make one thing clear. You walking out on me? That did ruin my life.

I don't know! I don't know. I won't know until I get back there and talk to John. I'm leaving the decision to him.

[ he'd built the mutant underground. he's the leader which means this decision is his. this is a decision he'll have to think about and consider once marcos has talked to him. and marcos trusts him to see both sides and decide what to do. maybe he'll say no. maybe he'll say yes. maybe he'll make her come to their headquarters and he'll grill her himself. ]

I'll give him your number. You can talk to him from here on out.

[ that's what it seems like she wants, doesn't it? he's ruined her life, he's ruined the mutant underground, he's been the one to mess it all up, hasn't he? so, maybe it's time to pass everything onto john when it comes to this situation at least. ]

I need to go. [ he'd been gone a while already and he's lost sight of what he'd come here for in the first place. his arm is still burning, a throbbing ache that's made it to his skull. ] John'll call you when he can.

Okay. I'll talk to him.

[ mister marine making the decision? fine. fine. it could be worse — but more importantly, daisy knows she's not going to be able to force him to make a decision like this in one night. not on behalf of an entire organization.

but that doesn't mean she wants him to ghost her. radio silence clearly didn't help them before. it just made them both bitter and angry and hurt for all the wrong reasons, left alone to run their minds over every encounter to justify and victimize every painful memory. she doesn't want to do that again, not if they have even the smallest chance of working together. ]

But you don't have to go. [ there's a quietness to the statement, almost a shyness, that surprises even daisy as she says it. she's quick to follow up with justification. ] I'm not kicking you out, I mean. I have a medkit, ice packs. [ perhaps most importantly: ] A washer and dryer, a couch. You can stay, if you want to.

[ her gaze shifts over to the kitchen counter, where a stack of takeout menus sprawl out. ]

Are you hungry? I could order Chinese from that place on Fifth you like.

[ like we used to hangs in the air between them, a tenuous attempt at an olive branch. it doesn't have to mean anything. it doesn't have to go anywhere. it can just be two allies, sharing a meal for old time's sake. if the tight set of his jaw is any indication, he's in too much pain to go anywhere anyway. ]

Or I have some pain meds Fitzsimmons cooked up, if you need them. From when my arms fractured. They should be strong enough for you. But you probably shouldn't take those on an empty stomach.

[ take her up on something. anything. let her help you, just this once. please. ]

[ she's trying. she's trying really hard and the part of him that's just heard that he's ruined her life wants to rear up and scream at her. ask her if this is pity or some sort of obligation to him she thinks she has. but he knows that's not her style. she wouldn't do something just because she has to. ]

I need to do something about my arm.

[ anything else would have to wait. whatever reeva had done was still affecting him. he wasn't so woozy on his feet anymore but the pain was still there, like his arm was fire and not in the way he felt when he used his powers. this was something completely different. ]

I haven't gotten it treated since it happened. [ because he'd gone from there to here and then she'd dug her fingers into the sensitive area and he really just wanted to cut the limb off. that would take the pain away, he guesses. ]

So I, uh, I need to do something about that. Because I don't know what she did to me. [ and it was freaking him the hell out. he has no idea how anyone can defeat a power like that. ]

[ his arm. because he'd been in pain when he'd gotten here, hadn't he? and then they'd fought, and she'd fought back, and now he was in even more pain. her fault, of course. his pain, it's always her fault — because no matter what promises she made, daisy was always too headstrong for her own good, too swayed by her own emotions to see clearly in the thick of things.

she'd grabbed his arms and pulled just to prove a point, and now she was paying for it, wasn't she? ]

Let me get you something for the pain.

[ she gestures towards the couch — sit. please — before making her way into the hall. from under the sink, she pulls a box of assorted medical supplies, all assembled and organized by jemma when daisy had moved in. there's nothing specifically set aside for "unknown power causing extreme pain", but there's plenty for treating wounds and stabilizing emergency conditions. from the cabinet, a nondescript blue bottle, filled with tightly packed gray tablets. superpills, fitz had called them. the equivalent of many doses all condensed into one, with enough stoppage power to dull the pain of even a million fractures all at once. perfect for a girl still learning to control her own earthquakes, but not so useful for daisy anymore.

as she leaves the bathroom and heads into the kitchen to retrieve the ice as promised, she asks: ] What happened?

[ he doesn't have to tell her everything, but the more she knows, the better she can help. ]

And who is "she"?

[ he sits at the very edge of the couch, like he's prepared to get up and leave at the first sign that something else was going to go down. he rests his arm on his knees, pulling the remnants of his sleeve up and over to give it more air to breathe. ]

I don't know. [ and he's not being deliberately obtuse. he really has no idea what she'd done. ] She's why I came here in the first place.

[ he wanted information. he'd wanted something on this woman to help them. ] Reeva Payge. She runs the Inner Circle. I was there, trying to get Lorna to come back. And she...turned my own powers on me. I felt like I was dying.

[ that was not an exaggeration. he'd managed to burn one of the frosts and then reeva had swept in and whatever she'd done had been the worst pain of his life. the absolute worst. ]

I've never felt anything like it. [ and he doesn't want to feel it ever again. ]

[ gear in tow, daisy settles on the floor in front of the couch, knees folded underneath her. in silence, each supply is pulled out and laid out beside her, everything from gauze and dressing to bandages to cleaning supplies; she's quiet, listening to him talk, her eyes darting up every so often to get a better look.

the sleeve is mangled, frayed along the outline of the burn. even with marcos pushing it away, the shreds of fabric tangle inside the wound. it looks painful. beyond painful. daisy hesitates for a moment before leaning forward, her hands delicately avoiding direct contact with the wound. ]

I'm sorry about Lorna. [ she doesn't like lorna, but she knows what lorna means to him. she's not callous enough to wish the woman pain or injury just because of dislike. ] And I'm sorry to ask, but ... [ her fingertips skim to the topmost button of his shirt. ] I think we have to take this off.

[ she knows what it sounds like. but it's not what she means. not this time. ]

May I?

It's ruined anyway. [ he has other shirts but it's just a topper on this shitty day. the fingers of his good hand curl into his palm and he nods, eyes flicking to her briefly. ]

Go ahead. [ he knows he doesn't have to say be careful because she can see his arm. yanking his shirt off him roughly is just going to aggravate the burn and piss him off and haven't they had enough of that tonight? ]

Lorna's made her choice. [ for now. he's not giving up on her but he can't go back there without having something on reeva payge. something that might combat her voice and then, the abilities of the frosts to boot. ]

My priority now is making sure everyone else is safe. [ except himself, obviously. ]

[ it doesn't take a trained doctor to know to be careful. her ministrations are soft, patient; rather than drag his injured arm up, daisy cuts the seam connecting the sleeve to the body of his shirt, separating the fabric so that the sleeve can pull down while the rest stays connected. it's easy enough, then, to unbutton and undress, gently leaning him forward as needed until the shirt lays in a pool on the floor beneath them.

the sight isn't unfamiliar. it twinges something in her memory, a warmth low in her belly that's both unasked for and unhelpful. she can't think about that right now.

better to focus her attentions on the wound itself. a cool sterile cloth, soaked through with cold water from the fridge and further chilled by the ice it's been resting on, gently lays atop the burn. it'll sting, sizzling even, but after a moment, the pain will give way to numbness. ]

Here. Two of these. No more.

[ the bottle of medication and a glass of water next, handed over with one hand while the other presses the cloth in place. thanks to fitzsimmons' genius work, the pills should put a damper on the nervous system's pain receptors, while still allowing him to remain in focus and alert. ]

When you're ready, we'll bandage you up.

[ he doesn't try and stifle his reactions at this point. she knows he's in pain so when she starts taking care of it, he hisses, wincing and shifting the tiniest bit because he can't stop himself. the suddenness of the dressing makes him curse low, under his breath. he sits there, fingernails pressing painfully into his palm until the worst of the pain eases.

then, he takes the offered painkillers and downs them without water. he doesn't need them and he wants them to start working as soon as possible. he blinks his eyes open, finally focusing a little more than he'd been doing while she'd been touching his arm.

he realizes, then, that he's sitting there without his shirt, on her couch, and she's close. he's suddenly grateful for his skin tone because she'd be able to see the flush if not. he swallows and flexes his hand a bit. there's still pain but it's dulled significantly already. ]

I'm good. I can take it. Go ahead.

[ better to get it done with so he can try and put it out of his mind. ]

Okay, if you're sure.

[ she tries to be quick. thankfully, he doesn't have any deep cuts or other sutures that would require stitches; the process of applying fresh, clean bandages is more of a juggling act than anything else, hands deftly switching between keeping the gauze in place and unraveling the medical tape that will take over for her hands-free.

eventually, all is in place, a pattern of zigzagging tape and gauze creating a thin barrier along his arm. it looks worse than it is — but if she remembers anything about mutant bodies, it'll heal given enough time. and, perhaps, enough energy to do so. the worst of it is over. ]

There. [ a hand drapes fingertips from his upper arm down to his wrist; if she's wrapped him up well, and if the drugs have kicked in, it should only tingle slightly, like nails along the scalp ] Is that better?

[ once she's done, he tries to move his arm and while it still doesn't feel great, it's a muted pain that he's easily able to tolerate. her fingertips draw one reaction from him: a shiver that has nothing to do with pain.

goddammit, he'd thought those feelings were dead and buried. she'd thrown him out and he'd walked away and he'd just become angry and bitter about the whole thing. he'd locked that part of himself away despite john and clarice trying to get him to talk about it.

and now here he was, back in her living room, sans his shirt and shivering. ]

It's fine. Thank you.

[ it doesn't feel like his arm's going to fall off anymore. ]

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