Chapter 1: PART I: Chapter 1
Chapter Text
Daisy had never felt more like a spy in her life. SHIELD had to have some kind of medal for hiding in a hallway in a fancy old hotel, waiting to sneak up on another secret agent. This was, oddly enough, exactly how she’d pictured SHIELD operating, back when she was living out of her van, hacking for the Rising Tide. She’d never seen herself as one of the spooks, though. Funny how things worked out. Next to her, May poked her head out from the wall that had been providing cover for herself, Daisy, and Coulson’s LMD, and looked down the hall where they knew their quarry was.
“He’s making the handoff now. Are we sure this is going to work?”, May whispered.
“It has to. I won’t let HYDRA kill a good man.” He might have been an LMD, but Coulson’s personality was definitely the same as it had always been, as if his fanboying over Sousa hadn’t made that obvious enough. Daisy had been the one to activate? wake up? robo-Coulson, forgoing the ethical debate that some of her team had wanted. Even though it had saved the world, she’d never forgiven the real Coulson’s decision to accept his impending death, rather than to fight it. His decision to abandon her and the team. In smaller moments like this, she knew in her bones waking the LMD had been the right decision. Besides, she’d missed him.
May suddenly moved behind Coulson and Daisy, and all three of them readied themselves for a fight. Coulson slipped an ICER into his hand as the rhythmic, hurried clicking of Sousa’s cane grew louder. He turned the corner, saw them, and froze. His shoulders slumped, and he became the spitting image of a film noir detective- trench coat, hat, resignation and exasperation playing out in equal measure in his expression. It was almost cute.
“I thought I shook you?”
“This’ll make sense later. Maybe.”
Sousa collapsed as the dendrotoxin round hit him, May immediately taking the weapon from Coulson and sticking it in her waistband. The LMD stooped to pick up the trench coat, hat, and cane, and once the ensemble was complete, Daisy couldn’t help but snicker.
“I knew you were into SHIELD history, A.C. I didn’t realize you were a cosplayer too.”
He just glared at her, and pointed at Sousa’s limp form with his own cane.
“Can you two get him up to the roof without me?”
“We’ll be fine. See you back at the Zephyr.”
He smiled, and was gone, off to take Sousa’s place in the history books. Daisy and May each bent down and scooped one of the real Agent Sousa’s arms over their shoulders, grimacing with the effort. He was taller than them, and heavy, but they managed to half-carry-half-drag him to the elevators. Thankfully, the hallways were empty aside from them
“So if we’re taking the real Sousa to the Quinjet, and Yo-Yo and Simmons are posing as the coroners to get Coulson back to the Zephyr… what’s supposed to have happened to Sousa’s body? Won’t anyone get suspicious?”
“It’s a bit late for that, Daisy. It’s not that weird to lose a body, they’ll have to figure something out.”
“That’s not reassuring at all. But better than the alternative.”
The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. Daisy was surprised by the lack of an operator, but she supposed that it couldn’t have been that uncommon, at this time of night, in a fancy hotel. She and May semi-gently placed their cargo on the ground, propping him up against a wall, and he grumbled something in his sleep. May rolled her eyes and hit the button for the highest floor, and the doors slid shut.
“The cloaking won’t be all that effective in the rain, we’ll have to hurry. And hope no one sees us.”
“There’s only stairs to the roof, right? How are we supposed to get Weekend at Bernie’s here up those?”
“We’ll be fine. He might wake up with a few bruises, but I’m sure that’s nothing new for a decorated SHIELD agent.”
The elevator dinged, and opened to the fifth floor- much too far from the roof. Daisy prepared herself to explain that their friend here had just had a bit too much to drink, but instead of being met with a family on vacation to see Hollywood, or even a businessman, there were three stone-faced men with terrible fashion sense and very large guns halfway down the hall, aiming directly at their elevator. Daisy cursed and unleashed a wave of vibrations down the hall just as they opened fire. The Chroncioms were blasted backwards, and their shots went wide, blowing chunks out of walls and ceilings. Thankfully they were using human weaponry. The two agents pressed themselves against the side walls of the elevator, desperately trying to get into cover. The Chronicoms were getting back to their feet, and Daisy gently quaked the unconscious Sousa into the opposite wall, leaving him crumpled in a painful-looking position next to May. He grunted in pain, but remained still. It was far from comfortable, but they didn’t have time to drag him. She could see May analyzing the situation, her mind running through near-instinctual combat training to figure a way out of this. Daisy was doing the same, but aside from brute force, she was stumped.
The older woman knelt next to Sousa, patting around his waist and chest. Daisy raised an eyebrow, but May was too preoccupied to notice, so she just sent another blast at the approaching Chronicoms.
“Really, May? Groping the unconscious- oh.”
May stood up, Sousa’s gun in hand, and fired down the hall. She hit one of their assailants directly in the forehead, but it didn’t flinch. Screams and commotions were coming from most of the rooms, and one of the Chronicoms kicked a door open, disappearing inside. More screams came from the room, and Daisy’s blood ran cold. The fuckers were going to take hostages.
“He had a chest holster. Haven’t seen one of those in years. If you can take these two, I’ll shoot the one taking hostages.”
Daisy nodded and rolled out of cover, putting everything she had into snapping the necks of the gunmen. Gun-bots. Whatever. One of their heads spun around like an owl’s, and the Chronicom collapsed to the floor. The other was only thrown down the hallway, smashing into a large vase and shattering it. The third- and hopefully last- one stepped out of the hotel room, holding a pistol to the head of a man in nightclothes. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Daisy almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. She’d never seen those sorts of pajamas in real life, and always associated them with old movies and Sleepytime Tea. The 50s were weird.
“Quake! Melinda May! Surrender, or he dies. He has no consequence to us, but you are a nuisance that must be eliminated. Step out of the elevator and-“
Two shots rang out, and the Chronicom had gleaming holes in its face instead of eyes. It fell just as the last survivor was disentangling himself from the ruined vase, and Daisy hit that one with another wave of power. Its chest caved in, and it was still. She turned her attention to the hostage, who was still standing in the middle of the hallway, dead Chronicom at his feet, and shaking with terror.
“Are you alright? Did they hurt you?”
The man started to sputter out a reply, but stopped when the three bodies on the ground began to smoke. After a moment, they were just puddles of silvery liquid, and he passed out from the shock.
“Daisy, we need to move. We’re almost out of time. The police will have to handle this.”
She cursed, hating that her mentor was right, and pressed the ‘close door’ button. She leaned against the elevator wall as it restarted its journey to the roof, rubbing her aching forearms.
“So. Your full names are Melinda May and ‘Quake’. That’s a stupid superhero name, but better than ‘C, I, and A’. Why did the puddles want you dead? What the hell did you shoot me with? What sort of power is that? And where are you taking me?”
The last thing Daisy expected was for their unconscious companion to wake up. Clearly, May was in the same position, because both of them let Sousa spit out his rapid-fire questions before they could find their voices. He was glaring at them, somehow managing to look angry and slightly intimidating despite sitting on the ground like a toddler. His spiel only ended when he pressed a hand to his forehead, wincing in pain. ICER headaches were a bitch.
“Uh- wow. Okay, you really shouldn’t be awake. Sorry about the headache. Look, the people out there want to conquer the planet and kill us all. They’re alien robots. We’re the good guys, and we just saved your life from HYDRA, who tried to kill you. My powers are really complicated, but they’re genetic, not from a serum or anything. We’re SHIELD, from the future, and if you don’t come with us you are going to die.”
“What she said about sums it up.”
The elevator dinged, and the door opened to the thankfully-empty top floor. Daisy offered Sousa a hand, since it would be hard for him to get to his feet on his own.
“Do you trust us? We risked a lot to save you.”
He considered them for a moment, taking in May’s combat-ready stance and the way she held his gun, the bullet holes on the elevator wall behind them, the futuristic-looking ICER in May’s waistband. He met Daisy’s eyes, looking for something she couldn’t quite place, and he took her hand. She hauled him up to his feet, and she noticed all his weight was on his left leg. She kept her arm out in case he needed to lean on her due to his cane being with Coulson, but he released her.
“Yeah. I don’t know if I trust you, but. I’ve seen crazier. And you did have eagles all over that plane, I knew they looked familiar. You should’ve just led with all that back in Nevada”
Daisy nodded to May, who touched Sousa’s arm, before returning Daisy’s nod.
“He’s telling the truth. He’s not going to run this time.”
Sousa’s brow furrowed, and he looked between the two women for a moment, before shaking his head to himself and leading the way out of the elevator, despite his gait being slow and off-center.
“I don’t even want to know what that’s about. Or how you two can silently communicate.”
“We’ll fill you in later. If we don’t rendezvous with our team in time, we’ll be stuck here.”
Clearly, a decade of soldiering and spycraft had taught Sousa the value of shutting up sometimes, and he held back his questions. The three of them made it to the roof access stairway, with Daisy blasting the lock open. Sousa raised an eyebrow in response, but hurried up the stairs as best he could. May and Daisy heard Simmons’ frantic voice in their earpieces when they were still only halfway up the stairs.
“May? Daisy? Everyone else is back and the countdown only has a couple minutes left, where are you?”
“We got attacked by some Chronicoms, we’ve got Sousa and we’re almost at the Quinjet. Can you bring the Zephyr closer?” Sousa looked at her oddly, probably confused by what a ‘Quinjet’ and ‘Zephyr’ were, but he seemed to make the connection with the planes he’d been on earlier and just continued up towards the roof.
“On it. I just wish we had time to go back for Enoch.”
“Next jump. He can wait, we can’t.”
“No, you can’t. The countdown just cut in half! Fifty seconds! The Chronicoms must be jumping early!”
Daisy and May both cursed badly enough to make Sousa blush, and they burst onto the roof, sprinting towards their cloaked Quinjet. The very confused Sousa had to follow them, knowing they had cloaking technology but not knowing where they’d parked.
“Jemma! Isn’t there anything you can do to slow it down!”
“No! We’re just hitchhikers! Hurry!”
The roof was slick from the pouring rain, and all three of them had slipped at least once and were soaking wet by the time they ran up the plane’s ramp. Sousa was faster than she’d expected, but he probably had a lot of practice running for his life. Daisy could hear the Zephyr’s engines nearby, they were so close , they just had to boot up the jet’s systems and dock. But in her bones, she knew it was too late, even as May leapt into the pilot’s seat and started flipping switches. The quinjet’s engines roared to life, but Daisy saw a flash of blue light out the window in front of them, and suddenly there was only static in their earpieces. They’d been left behind. She screamed in anger and frustration and helplessness, sinking into a seat when her knees went weak. She barely registered May setting a course for New York, or her and Sousa arguing over what to do next. It had been more than twenty years between the last two jumps. It could be twenty years or more until the next. By the time she saw her team- her family - again, she’d probably be in her fifties. And for them, a second will have gone by. She was stuck in the 50s, when she had no civil rights, couldn’t even open a credit card in her name, would be segregated against in most of the country, HYDRA was trying to kill her, and there weren’t even any computers to hack. All she had for company was Enoch and May. May, who was famous for handling impossible situations, could fight her way out of anything and guide Daisy through anything else even before she had empath powers. May, who’d taught her how to keep herself alive, and who had saved her life a dozen times. With May there, she might just get through this. She pulled herself out of her stupor and paid attention to the ongoing argument.
“I get that you’re 2019 SHIELD, and that you technically outrank me. I’ve seen the eagles. I’m grateful to you for saving my life. What I don’t understand is why the hell we’re going to New York, and not going back down there to where I’m in charge and we can start hunting down HYDRA.”
“We have a friend in New York, he travelled through time with us and got left behind at our last stop, in the ‘30s. He’s a Chronicom, a robot like the ones we were just fighting, except he’s nice. He can help us. And you need to stay dead.”
“I’m not dead! I have family, friends, people who are going to freak out if I pretend to be dead! A life! An important job!”
“And you’re humble, too.”
Daisy cut into the argument before they could give her a headache.
“Enough! May, you’re right, but you’re feeling Sousa’s frustration. Find a way to get it out of your system or you two are going to tear each other apart. Sousa, as far as anyone in this time knows, you died at that hotel. As long as you’re dead, HYDRA won’t go after you or your loved ones, and we have the advantage. We can hunt them down without them having any idea that anyone in SHIELD knows they’re around, and-”
“Daisy, we can’t ‘hunt down’ HYDRA, we’re supposed to be protecting the timeline. Ripples, not waves, remember?”
“I think that went out the window when the Chronicoms shot up a famous hotel and stranded us in 1955! We need to take the fight to HYDRA before they kill us, we know more than anyone does, even if we just tell Peggy Carter and work in secret we can save millions of lives. HYDRA attacked Sousa on the train before he got to the hotel, the Chroncioms must have fed them that information. They’re working together.”
She saw May thinking it over, working through the problem with cold logic as she recovered from feeling Sousa’s frustration. The other agent also seemed to be considering whether he should stay ‘dead’, but neither of them could argue with Daisy’s suggestions.
“Fine. We’ll find Enoch, regroup, and reach out to Carter. As long as we’re stuck here, we’ll make ourselves useful.”
“Peggy will listen to me. She might not be too happy to see me, even if that does mean I’m alive, but she’ll listen. Then we can beat those squidhead bastards and I’ll get my damn life back.”
Without any warning, May burst into tears, and both Daisy and Sousa looked at her in shock. She cried silently for a moment, before looking up at the ‘dead’ agent with a look of shock and horror.
“You really hate this. Being separated from your family, letting HYDRA run free, having to tell Carter. But you’ll do it, because you know it’s the right option.”
Sousa opened and closed his mouth silently, looking like he was about to say something, but he just nodded. Were his emotions really strong enough to affect May just from being in proximity, or were her powers growing? Could May categorize the emotions she felt from others that well? Did he really feel like crying, even though he looked only mildly grief-stricken? The hell was wrong with 50s masculinity? She bitterly realized she’d have decades with the two of them to get answers to her questions. After a moment of stunned silence, Sousa took the seat across from Daisy, and he buried his head in his hands.
“Hey, Sousa. We’ll figure something out. This isn’t even our first time being stuck in another time. You’ll see your loved ones again.”
But I might never see my family again , she thought to herself.
“Thank you. I hope you're right. And I’ll have to hear the story about the other time this happened to you two.”
May chimed in from the cockpit. “It’s a shitty story. Started with a piece of rebar in my thigh and ended with a good man dying.”
Sousa looked between the two of them in alarm- he was doing that a lot, it made him look like a sad puppy- and Daisy just shrugged in confirmation.
“You know what? I’m gonna get some sleep. That’s enough for one day. I don’t know how fast this future-plane is, just… wake me when we get to New York. Then you can explain in detail what the hell’s going on.”
He took off his soaking-wet jacket, threw it into the seat next to him, and was asleep in thirty seconds. Daisy was jealous that anyone could pass out that easily. She sighed, stood, and took the copilot’s seat next to May.
“We’re stuck in the fucking fifties.”
“Yup.”
“I know you’re still emotionless, but aren’t you even a bit pissed about this? We might never see the team again.”
“Nope. Not worried, not bothered, not angry. I know I should be, but I’m only feeling what people around me do.”
They sat together in silence for a few minutes, watching the night sky above them and the clouds below, before Daisy finally spoke.
“Can I hug you? Please?”
May hesitated, then nodded, and the younger woman almost knocked the plane off course in her haste to hug her mentor before the offer expired. Daisy felt May stiffen, then relax, and they started crying at the same time.
“It’s alright, Daisy. We’ll get through this. Enoch will get us home, we’ll survive HYDRA. At least this time the Earth’s still intact.” Daisy laughed in spite of herself, and retreated to the co-pilot’s seat, but May kept a hand on her arm.
“And there’s no blue aliens.”
“Just alien robots. Much easier to kill.”
They stayed like that a while longer, watching the sky lighten and the clouds grow thinner, until Daisy fell asleep.
In his mansion in Los Angeles, Wilfred Malick was relieved. The loose end had been tied up: Daniel Sousa was dead. HYDRA’s secret was secure. He had only a moment to ruminate on his victory before he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye.
“What the hell?” Malick’s gun was pointed at the man in the shadows before he’d finished speaking.
“Not necessary, Mr. Malick. I have been left behind to help you.”
“You’re the man who called, told me Sousa was on the train.”
“You and I share an enemy, Mr. Malick. The only difference is that mine is from the future.”
“I think I might’ve met one of them.”
“You certainly did. As it is certain SHIELD will destroy all you have built. It is time to prevent that.”
“How?”
“By doing exactly what I say. Your attempt to kill Daniel Sousa failed, as did my people’s attempt to do away with our own enemies. They are now all here, in 1955, alive and well. This needs to be rectified if our plans are to succeed.”
“And what plans are those, exactly?”
“The destruction of SHIELD.”
Chapter Text
July 23, 1955
May set the Quinjet down on the roof of a building not far from the Krazy Kanoe, in what would become the East Village. Daisy and Sousa both woke when the engines shut off, and she grumbled and rubbed her eyes.
“What time is it here?”
“Early morning. No one should be at the bar but Enoch.”
Sousa hobbled into the cockpit, looking through the cockpit to the city beyond.
“Bar? Your friend Enoch works at the Krazy Kanoe? Some of the higher-ups at the New York SSR office used to hang out there. There was a bartender named Enoch. Bald guy? Really bad at small talk?” Daisy grinned in response.
“That’s him. But you’re staying here, if anyone recognizes you, we’re all screwed. Hopefully Enoch can tell us where to find Carter discreetly.”
“I’m sure he can, she used to stop by every now and again. How do I contact you two if something goes wrong?”
May pointed out the radio on the dashboard and started showing Sousa how to operate it, but he waved her off.
“I was a paratrooper, I know how these work. Go on, the sooner you get your friend the better.”
The two women stood, adjusted their 1950s clothing so it didn’t look like they’d been sitting in a cramped cockpit for several hours, and left the plane. Daisy saw the building’s fire escape and laughed, running towards it.
“I haven’t snuck around using one of these in years !”
“Don’t get too excited, Daisy. This is still a mission, and we’re still in trouble.”
Daisy just rolled her eyes, and a few minutes later they were knocking on the door of the bar they’d left just a couple days earlier, in 1931. The door’s panel slid open, revealing Enoch’s eyes, nose, and forehead.
“Agent Johnson. Agent May. How wonderful to see you again. Have you come to finally rescue me from my lonely exile, so that I might rejoin the team?”
“I wish. We’re stuck here too, and we need your help. Can you open the door now?”
The door swung open, and Enoch examined the both of them with as much shock as he could manage to display, though his voice remained as dry and monotone as ever.
“You have been through combat. I take it my people attacked and delayed you?” May nodded as the two of them stepped inside, Enoch pouring them both drinks.
“We have the Quinjet, and Agent Sousa’s onboard. We faked his death, and killed the Chronicoms who attacked us, but they jumped early and kept us from making it back to the Zephyr. After this, we’re going to go meet with Peggy Carter. Try to help take down HYDRA before they pose a threat, we think your people are working with them.”
“Do you wish to fight HYDRA in order to preserve the timeline, Agent Johnson, or to change it?”
“We have a responsibility to change it! We can save so many lives by stomping out HYDRA before they rise up again! We can stop my mother from being cut to pieces, stop Garrett and Ward…”
“Daisy, that’s a lot of work, even if we knew messing with the timeline was a good idea”
“Agent May is right. We cannot risk modifying our future. The consequences will be unpredictable.”
“How do we even know this is still our timeline? You’ve been here for twenty years, we’re stuck here now with a Quinjet, Sousa’s alive when he should be dead. What if this is an alternate timeline now? Is there any way for us to get home?”
Enoch raised a hand to cut off her worried rambling. He pondered the situation for a moment before speaking.
“I cannot tell you the details, but I believe it will be acceptable, and perhaps even beneficial, to modify the timeline to limit HYDRA’s power. My people acted first to change the natural course of things, creating a new timeline. It is now within our ability to do the same for our benefit. The two of you should go with Agent Sousa to coordinate your efforts with Margaret Carter. I will stay here, and gather what information I can. I hope to see you shortly, and assist each other in our endeavors. Or to simply visit, since we are friends. Hopefully we shall see our teammates again soon.” So Daisy was right all along? They can change the timeline and make things better?
“We should try to stay under the radar, and avoid drawing the attention of the Chronicoms or HYDRA.” Damn it, she hated when May was right.
“So what, fake names, in case they left more people behind? Doing what we can without being splashy?”
“Exactly. We should keep our powers hidden too, unless we have no choice. From everyone except Sousa anyway, he knows already. Our biggest advantage is that no one knows we’re here.”
“SHIELD might try to Index me if they find out about my powers anyway. I am not going through that again.” Things hadn’t gone well for her when she’d first gotten her powers. SHIELD had been terrified of her, even Coulson wanted her locked up, Jemma was advocating for her execution. In a world without the Avengers, where the only powered person anyone was familiar with was the allegedly-dead Captain America, she’d be dissected, or weaponized. Neither option sounded appealing.
“I concur with Agent May. I can create fake documents for the three of you here, if you wish.”
“You can?”
“As I have said, there is much a lonely Chronicom can achieve in twenty years. I am prepared for every eventuality.”
Twenty minutes and a drink each later, Daisy and May bid farewell to Enoch, a folder full of documents clutched in Daisy’s hands. They briefly stopped off at an antique store to buy Sousa a new cane. If everything had gone according to plan, he would’ve gotten it back on the Zephyr, and Simmons probably would’ve made him a better prosthetic. Instead, he was still in the 50s, just without his mobility aid, and every step looked like it pained him. When they arrived back at the Quinjet, Sousa raised an eyebrow at the documents but grinned at the cane, taking it from May’s hands.
“Thank you, I appreciate this. It’s nicer than my old one too. What’s in there?” Daisy passed him the folder, and Sousa immediately flipped it open and started pulling out documents.
“Fake IDs? Birth certificates? Social Security cards? For all three of us? Enoch made all this?”
“He did. We think May and I should keep who we are secret from anyone we work with, including Carter. Our powers should stay secret too, unless we need them. I have to agree, we’re capable enough without them, and they’d just draw attention from the wrong people. There’s no telling how many Chronicoms were left behind.”
“Wait, we’re not telling Peggy you’re from the future?”
“We’ll tell her that much, but withhold the details. As far as she’s concerned, Daisy and I are…” May plucked a couple of IDs from the folder in Sousa’s hands, and examined them. She handed one to Daisy and pocketed the other. “Mei and Louise Wen. Mother and daughter from LA. He kept first names we’d be familiar with at least, even if it is a bit similar to Louisa May Alcott. And if you’re mixed, why do we both have a Chinese last name? Did your hypothetical father let you take mine in the 20s? That doesn’t seem likely. I’m not even sure how we’re supposed to pull off being mother and daughter.” Sousa just laughed in response, and gestured between the two women when they looked at him strangely.
“I think you’ll be fine. How are you familiar with Louise?”
“It’s my middle name. Not that I ever use it. I’ll probably have to go by Lou to not go completely insane. Who are you supposed to be now, Agent…”
“Just Mister, apparently. Matthew Jones. That’s a terrible name. At least Peggy knows me already, hopefully I never have to use it.”
“We got her address too, she’s got a brownstone in Brooklyn. Let’s get going.”
“Hang on, not so fast. You owe me a lot of explanations. Starting with those powers. Before I have to explain all this to Peggy, not to mention lie about who you are, I want to know everything there is to know about HYDRA’s presence in SHIELD, you two’s capabilities and… abilities, your mission with all this time-travel, the robot aliens, how you know what you do about my time, and how exactly you plan to root them out.”
Daisy looked to May for confirmation, and she shrugged in response. She might have emotion powers now, but she was still painfully scarce with words.
“Alright, I’ll fill you in. We don’t know everything about the mission, that was Jemma and Fitz’s department. We don’t have a specific plan yet either, aside from identifying HYDRA’s cells and arresting its members. But the rest, I can brief you on. You’re going to want to take notes.”
After over an hour of questions, answers, confirmations, verifications, demonstrations, and a few more questions, Sousa was finally satisfied that they were telling the truth, and that they were trustworthy. He understood HYDRA’s uprising, some of its key leaders, its origins as an ancient cult, Inhumans, the circumstances that had driven SHIELD into the past, and some sanitized portions of their records with SHIELD. They’d both avoided trauma-dumping or confusing amounts of detail, but he was impressed with what they’d pulled off, and they’d dug enough SHIELD-branded clothing and supplies out of the storage racks to prove who they were. Unfortunately, aside from some tools for the quinjet, about a hundred bucks of 1950s money, some weapons, MREs, and their wallets and phones, all the rest of Daisy and May’s stuff was on the Zephyr. Not that they’d brought much to the past to begin with, they’d left in a hurry.
May flew them to an abandoned warehouse in what Daisy knew as DUMBO, and they walked the few blocks to the Brooklyn Heights home that Carter shared with her husband. They tried to keep Sousa out of sight, and managed to buy him a replacement hat to try to cover his face with. They didn’t want anybody recognizing them before they reached Peggy’s home- or after, for that matter. Anonymity and secrecy were HYDRA’s most dangerous weapons, and they’d only manage to defeat them by turning them to SHIELD’s advantage. The three agents climbed the stoop, and Sousa hesitated a moment before knocking twice. He was about to knock again when no fewer than three locks were released, and the door was flung open by a furious Peggy Carter. She had a revolver pointed at Sousa’s face, and her eyes were red from crying, but Daisy was still in shock. She hadn’t had a bad case of hero worship since she’d joined SHIELD, but Peggy Carter was the most badass, the most pioneering, the most decorated agent in SHIELD’s history. It was probably for the best she’d be allowing May and Sousa to do the talking. Simmons was going to be so mad she’d missed out on this.
“Peggy, I can explain-”
“You have no right! I got a call this morning that you were dead in a hotel pool, and now you show up on my doorstep unannounced without a scratch on you? We haven’t even seen each other in years, and now you- what the hell are you doing here?”
“Please, we’re all in a lot of danger. I’ll explain everything, but every second we spend out here talking is a second I might get shot.”
Daisy’s hero looked at the three of them, then met her old partner’s pleading eyes, and let them in. They all hurried inside, and Agent Carter ( Agent Carter!!) shut the door behind them, pointing them towards the dining room.
“Explanations and introductions are in order. Now.”
“HYDRA’s infiltrated SHIELD. I suspected they’d started to make their way into the fringes of the organization after Operation Paperclip, and I filed a report on it to my superior officer- Wilfred Malick, Head of Defense. I filed that report three days ago. Yesterday, these two showed up to my base, saved Helius from blowing up, then helped me get the device to Stark. They saved me from the HYDRA operatives that Malick sent to kill me. Turns out he’s HYDRA too, and we’re a lot worse off than I’d thought. If someone that high-ranking is one of them, there’s no telling how deeply rooted they are within SHIELD.”
Carter collapsed into a chair, staring off into space.
“It makes sense. I hate how much sense it makes. How could we have been so blind? And why do I get the feeling you’re leaving out the worst part.”
May stepped forward, drawing the attention to her.
“Because we’re SHIELD agents. From the future. I’m Agent Wen, this is my daughter. We can’t tell you much more than that, but we’ll be here for a while, and we can help you root out HYDRA. We know how they work, we have some names we can go after, and we’ll happily figure out the scope of their organization both within and without SHIELD, and hand you their names- and heads- on a silver platter.” Daisy tried to push aside how warm and fuzzy it felt for May to call her her daughter.
“I know how this sounds, Peggy, but trust me. Everything I’ve seen in the last twenty-four hours confirms what they’ve told me. As long as HYDRA thinks I’m dead, they won’t be trying to kill me and they won’t see me coming. Give me a few agents who hate HYDRA too much to be moles- maybe Friedman, Jones, and a couple others. Put us on an empty old base, pretend we don’t exist, and let me get rid of those fuckers.”
“And don’t assume someone’s not HYDRA just because they’re not from Paperclip. HYDRA predates their time with the Nazis, and they had a lot of people in the US before Hitler even came to power. Don’t trust anyone.”
Daisy almost fainted when Carter and May simultaneously glared at her, but what she had to say was important. The founder of SHIELD set her gun down on the table and prodded a finger in Sousa’s direction, shifting her glare to him. Though Daisy couldn’t help but notice that Carter seemed much less angry and much more relieved by Sousa’s presence than she’d care to admit. Daisy knew they’d been close in the past, but she only now realized how close. She knew Peggy was married, and if Sousa’s nervousness on the way here had been any indication things hadn’t ended well between them, but clearly she still trusted and cared for him.
“I’ll give you what you ask for, Daniel. You’re still technically West Coast Security Chief, since you’re alive. I’ll set you up in Ragtag- though you’ll have to make your own way there. Off the books, and these two will be instated as Level One agents. I’ll send you Dugan, Jones, and Friedman. And I’ll talk to Stark and Phillips, get you some funding. I trust you enough to understand that I can’t afford to ignore you if you’re right about this. But I will be running my own investigations too. Starting with that twat Zola. If you need access to files or prisoners, one of the Agents Wen can come get them. Just… stay alive. Don’t mess this up. And you’d better not be wrong.”
“Thank you, Peggy. You won’t regret this. And please, don’t tell anyone aside from Stark and Phillips. Even my family. I don’t want to put them at risk.”
“I understand. God, Stark will be furious to know you’re alive. He’s hailing you as the greatest hero since Steve. He never would’ve done that if he knew you’d find out.”
Sousa laughed and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “That might be a bit of an exaggeration.”
“I agree. Now go, before someone sees you. And good luck.”
Not wanting to test their luck, Sousa and the ‘Wens’ all but ran out the door. Once they were half a block away, Daisy looked to her ‘mother’ curiously.
“Why does Ragtag sound familiar?”
“Because that’s what the SSR originally named the Playground. We’re going home.”
Chapter Text
July 24, 1955
Daisy was literally vibrating with excitement as the Quinjet touched down. The hangar wasn’t how she remembered, it was much smaller and less high-tech, but still recognizably the playground. After the Bus, the Playground was the first place she’d truly been able to settle in, and think of as home. Nothing but the Zephyr had come close to fulfilling that role since, and she missed it dearly. This base had been where she and her team had taken refuge from the chaos following the fall of SHIELD, where she’d made friends and lost them. When May’s LMD had destroyed the base, and SHIELD had moved to the lighthouse not long after, it had felt like she was being uprooted all over again. She’d thought herself incapable of becoming attached to any one particular place, seeing one bed as no different from any other, and that the people around her were what had made the base feel like home. Apparently she was wrong, because this felt like a homecoming. She knew that Fury’s upgrades didn’t exist yet, and that this base was in the Toolbox, in Chronicom hands. They were not hidden, but she couldn’t help but feel safe.
Sousa had made use of dead drops and old protocols he and Carter had shared as partners to get the codes they’d need to have access the base, which he’d never visited before, and learn that their meager reinforcements would be arriving the next day. She and May had spent that time buying food, clothes, and other necessities for life in what was essentially a glorified bunker. By far the most valuable resource they’d have access to, however, were the boxes upon boxes of SSR files on HYDRA personnel and assets in the basement. Combined with the modern files Carter would be discreetly sending them, and a healthy dose of snooping around, Daisy was hopeful that they’d be able to start to learn what HYDRA was up to, and start to dismantle whatever they’d built.
May shut down the plane’s engines, and brusquely grabbed two of their duffels of supplies.
“Daisy, stop vibrating and help me with these bags. Sousa, we’ll be fine. You two’s excitement and nervousness combined is making me nauseous.”
She did as she was told without even thinking, grabbing the remaining supplies, before processing what she’d heard. Nervous? Sousa had been sitting calmly the entire flight, asking the usual questions, but aside from an occasional tapping of his fingers against his prosthetic, nothing about him had seemed nervous. The allegedly-worried agent took the lead once they’d disembarked, inputting the access codes into a positively ancient computer terminal. The familiar metal doors of the Playground slid open, and Daisy started vibrating again, earning her a glare from May and a comical raised eyebrow from Sousa. She ignored them both, not bothering to suppress her smile when she entered. The air was mustier than she remembered, and the lights were dimmer, but it was still the Playground. The differences ran deeper than cleanliness, however. The technology was older, the base was quieter- the people were gone. She’d associated this place so heavily with specific people. It didn’t feel right without Coulson in the office upstairs, Mack and Fitz playing videogames in the rec room, Bobbi and Hunter arguing in the halls. Lincoln should be waiting for her on the sparring mats, and Trip was supposed to be prepping for their next mission with a smile. It hit her, all at once, that she and May were stranded here. Functionally alone, unlikely to ever get back home, and all the memories she had of this place had never happened, and never would. The timeline was in shambles, and it was up to them to make sure it ended up better instead of worse.
“Coul- the main office is upstairs, Sousa. Through the kitchen. Since you’re technically in charge, it’s best if you take it. I’m gonna go get my old bunk back. May, you want yours?” She received only a nod in response, which was expected. “Sousa, any preference?”
“No, but I’d appreciate a tour from you two before the others arrive. And you need to patch up the cracks in your cover stories if you don’t want them to suspect something else is going on.” May rolled her eyes at him, a devastating attack that would have killed a lesser being. Sousa managed to only flinch.
“Daisy can handle the tour. I’m the only one who knows where all the keys to the vaults are stored.” Without any additional pomp or circumstance, she left to go pry into the secret corners of the base that only she and Coulson remembered, leaving Daisy and Sousa alone.
-
Daniel knew he was supposed to be paying attention to the tour, but he just couldn’t bring himself to. Not because what Daisy was showing him was unimportant- just the opposite, he’d be living on this base for a considerable while, and needed to know his way around. The private rooms were nicer than he expected, even if they had been left to fester for a few years, and he made sure to choose the one closest to the office. Daisy’s was two doors down, and May’s next to hers, although May herself seemed to have vanished into thin air. The scientific and training facilities were impressive for a base of this size, as were the holding cells, but he couldn’t quite focus. He could tell Daisy had noticed his heart wasn’t in it, but so far she’d avoided prying. They made the climb up a too-narrow flight of stairs to his new office, his stump aching more with every step. The frosted glass of the office door still had Peggy’s name on it, but he collapsed into what must have been her old chair as soon as they were inside, rubbing at the seam between his prosthetic and his leg. Only then did Daisy finally ask.
“Are you alright, Sousa? You seem distracted, and May mentioned you were nervous earlier. I’m sure this is all wayyy too much information at once, and it’s honestly impressive none of this has fazed you more. I would’ve been projectile vomiting from the shock.”
“It all fazes me, just maybe not my face. But I’m fine, really.”
“See, that’s usually my line. May and I just turned your entire life upside down, and we’re all probably going to be working together for a while. I don’t believe for a second you’re fine. So you can either tell me now, or I’ll annoy you about it until you do.” Daisy might be the most stubborn person he’d ever met, and that was saying something.
“How sure are you and your mom that this plan is going to work? I’d chase those assholes- pardon my French- to whatever slimy hideaways they run to, but it goes so much deeper than I thought. It’s worse than Paperclip or even Malick. From what you’ve told me, they succeed in destroying SHIELD. And somehow I’m supposed to lead the effort to root them out? With six agents? You should be in charge. You’ve been practically leading me by the hand for three days already.” Daniel tried and failed to bury the image of the two of them literally, rather than figuratively, walking hand in hand. Nope, he would not fall for this (annoyingly gorgeous and incredibly strong) woman he just met. Definitely not.
“You do know she’s not actually my mother, right?”
“I know, but it’s obvious you see her that way.” Daisy blinked rapidly, and he could tell he’d struck a bit too close to home.
“Anyway, I was going to say that I’m a better field agent than a leader. I was the Director of SHIELD for a bit, and I was terrible at it.”
“I don’t believe that, and neither do you. If you were the Director, you outrank me.”
“Either way, I’d rather be in the field. People tend to get killed when I’m making the decisions. Besides, the people in this time don’t know us, they’ll need a familiar face. Someone they trust. But that doesn’t mean May and I won’t do all we can. HYDRA’s taken too much from me. I won’t let them ruin this timeline too.” Daniel felt the pain in his leg flare up again, alongside memories of all the friends and subordinates who’d disintegrated before his eyes thanks to HYDRA’s weapons. He heard himself asking a question he knew was far too personal before he realized what he was doing.
“What did they do to you?” A shadow passed over her face, and he immediately started stammering an apology. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”
“No, it’s okay. It’s your responsibility to make sure the agents under your command are trustworthy. I’ll tell you.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “When I was a baby, HYDRA kidnapped my mom, vivisected her, stole her powers by draining her bodily fluids, and that ended up ruining the rest of my childhood pretty thoroughly. They gave me these-” she pulls up her shirt to show the twin bullet wounds on her abdomen, making Daniel blush. How did she even survive that? “just out of curiosity. They put a mole on my team, tried to kill me and my friends a thousand times, and often succeeded. If we can stop them now, before they can destroy SHIELD and hurt millions of people, I’ll be able to sleep easier at night. Sorry for the trauma dumping.”
For such a powerful person, Daisy seemed painfully small. She’d perched on his desk and curled into herself, and the pain and anger in her eyes made her look simultaneously incredibly dangerous and incredibly vulnerable. Her sensitivity about her mother figure made much more sense to him now- she’d already lost one mom, she must’ve been terrified of losing a second. He had to resist the instinct to wrap her in a hug, but he’d probably end up with a few broken bones if he tried.
“I’m sorry for asking. You’ve more than earned my trust. HYDRA took plenty of friends from me too, but we’ll win this time, thanks to you and your team. Whatever you need, I’ll be here.” She laughed, and Daniel hated how badly he wanted to make her laugh again, even though nothing he said was funny in the slightest.
“I thought you were supposed to be the boss here.”
“Yeah, technically, but without you and May I’d be flying blind. I literally got myself killed chasing this lead in your timeline. I might be the SO, but I’m not stupid enough to think I can give either of you orders that you’ll actually follow.” Daisy offered a half smile, and gestured towards the door with her head.
“We’ll only disobey your orders if they’re terrible, promise. Come on, you need still to see the armory.”
As soon as Daisy had finished showing him around the base, and the three agents had made their plans for the next day, Daniel climbed into the bed he’d chosen and slept like the dead.
July 25, 1955
Daisy waited in the hall in front of the elevator, looking as spy-like as she could in 1950s clothing. She missed her leather jacket. It wasn’t hard for someone with as much experience as her to act like a spook, and she’d fooled Sousa with her CIA routine just a few days earlier, but she’d wanted to try this for years and was only going to have one chance. The doors slid open, revealing three men sitting around a bar table, buckled into their seats, all with a briefcase and a duffel. Two of them she recognized immediately- the blond handlebar mustache and bowler hat could only be Dum Dum Dugan, and she’d heard Trip tell enough stories about his Howling Commando grandpa to recognize Gabe Jones when she saw him. Seeing the two war heroes in civilian clothing was surprising, but far from a shock- she was, after all, dressed like she was heading to work in an office rather than a secret base. The third man wasn’t one she was familiar with, and Daisy couldn’t remember the name of the agent that Sousa had requested from Peggy Carter. He was dressed in a button down, slacks, and suspenders that could’ve all been stolen from Sousa’s closet, although long sleeves in July was odd- Dugan and Jones were in short sleeves, a concession to the heat. Aside from a few small scars on his face, however, he was otherwise unremarkable, and could’ve easily blended in just about anywhere. Your average, boring, thirty-something white dude- which made him the perfect spy. The three agents began disentangling themselves from the couch, with Dugan noticing her first.
“What is this place? Are you who Carter sent us to meet?”
“I call it the Playground, although technically it doesn’t have a name, because technically it doesn’t exist. It being a secret base and all.” Yup. She understood why Billy and Eric did that now. It felt so cool . Dugan seemed much less impressed than he should be, but the mystery man seemed amused. “I’m Agent Wen, and if you’ll all follow me, there’s a briefing on Project Hercules you won’t want to miss.”
“Project Hercules?” Jones sounded skeptical, but she just turned and walked towards what had been the common area in her time, and would be a makeshift briefing room today. The three men followed her, with Dugan and Jones muttering theories and comments that they thought she couldn’t hear. Thankfully, none of it was particularly bigoted. She knew they’d both worked with Carter and Jim Morita in the past, so she wasn’t expecting a spiel about how women or Asians couldn’t be SHIELD agents, but you could never be too careful- especially in 1955. She paused at the door to the briefing room, partially so the others could catch up, and partially for dramatic effect. She was having way too much fun with this, but she knew Coulson would approve. She swung the door open and entered first, laughing at the looks on the men’s faces when they saw Sousa. He was standing at the front of the room, wearing a wry smile and a blue button down- a combination that looked really good on him. May was standing to his left, arms folded, glowering. She raised an eyebrow at Daisy, who realized she must’ve sensed her last thought. Fuck, that was awkward. Thankfully, Sousa rescued her from making a fool of herself.
“Gentlemen, welcome to Project Hercules. You’ve already met one Agent Wen, I’d like to introduce you to the other. Yes, they’re related. If you’ll all have a seat, I’m sure you have a lot of questions, and there’s a lot for us to explain.”
Dugan and Jones just stared at him like they’d seen a ghost- which they had, to be fair. Sousa’s death wasn’t exactly front-page news, and he’d never met either of them before, but his murder was well-known among SHIELD agents. The mystery man, on the other hand, just grinned, and walked up to Sousa, giving him a bone-crushing hug.
“I knew a few bullets wouldn’t stop you. It’s good to see you, Sousa.” He had an accent that sounded vaguely Eastern European, but wasn’t Russian- Polish, maybe?
“You too, Yossi. Although I never did get shot. Took a few punches though.”
“Bah, that’s nothing new. I’m glad you’re alive.”
Yossi? Was that a first or last name? looked to May and extended his right hand to shake. She took it, and started grinning. “And it’s nice to meet you, Agent Wen.” Apparently, this guy was happy to see his friend alive. His sleeves had ridden up slightly after hugging Sousa, and when he turned to face May, Daisy was able to see his left forearm- and the numbers printed there. Her jaw fell open for a moment before she could gather her composure. She was an idiot, the war had only ended ten years ago, of course there were Holocaust survivors of all ages. Sousa thinking of this man as one of the few who he could be absolutely certain hated HYDRA was starting to make a lot of sense. This man had more reason to want to see Nazis dead than anyone.
“It’s good to meet you too, Agent Friedman.” May shot Daisy a glare, and she closed her mouth, wiping the stupefied expression off her face. Right, Friedman, that was his last name. Sousa had talked about him a bit. They’d worked together in LA for a time, before Friedman was moved to New York. Sousa made a sweeping gesture, and everyone took up positions on the couches, all arrayed to face their new commanding officer.
“For starters: HYDRA is alive and well, they’ve been infiltrating every major government and civilian institution since the war ended: including, and especially, SHIELD.” A chorus of groans and curses from the new arrivals in several languages was cut off by a raised hand from Sousa. “Our job is to identify them and wipe them out. I started to learn what was going on, and HYDRA tried to kill me for it. Turns out my SO was a squid, Malick sent some guys to take me out of the picture. These two agents saved my life, helped fake my death. Thanks to them, we have some leads. None of us will be getting a moment’s rest until we’ve mapped out the extent of the sleepers and handed them over to Phillips and Carter, either with bullets in their heads or cuffs on their wrists. Any questions, or are you ready for the details?”
“I have… many questions, but if this is true, we can’t trust anybody. Why us?”
“That’s correct, Agent Jones, which is why you three are here. The three active-duty field agents who have the most reason to hate HYDRA. Colonel Phillips, Peggy, Howard, the other Howling Commandos, and some other wartime SSR personnel are definitely clean too, but the list is short. We’ll bring more people in when we’ve been able to verify their loyalty. That’s one of many ways in which Agents Wen will come in handy, and you three will obey any order from them as if it came from me. Is that clear?”
“Not at all. Who the hell are you two? I’ve never heard of you, how do we know you’re not HYDRA, or spies for Mao!” Of course the guy nicknamed ‘Dum-Dum’ was the racist one.
“Go find me some HYDRA assets and I’ll prove real fucking quick I’m not one of them. I’ve already saved Sousa’s life once, and I’m sure I’ll be saving all your asses at one point or another. I haven’t been to China since HYDRA slaughtered the village I was born in, when I was six months old. Does that answer your question, Agent?”
“Yes it does.” Dugan at least had the decency to look ashamed of himself for being an idiot.
“Yes it does, ma’am . My daughter is your commanding officer, Dugan. Act like it.” Jesus, Daisy had forgotten how terrifying May could be when she really wanted to. Years of knowing and looking up to her had taken the edge off, but that woman was scary . And she’d called her ‘daughter’ again, which Sousa certainly looked smug about. What was his deal? Why did he care?
“Yes ma’am. Sorry ma’am.”
Trip’s Grandpa elbowed Dugan in the side, and Sousa cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention back.
“Unless there are any more stupid questions, we have a lot of information to get through.”
-
Wilfred was getting tired of this. The alien robot from the future- which sounded insane even in his head- seemed to think he was the one in charge here. His advice had been useful so far, but it had only been a couple days, and it would be years before any of these plans came to fruition. Despite all that, Luke had the audacity to keep pestering him about one man for three days.
“My guy confirmed he shot Sousa, and there hasn’t been any indication since that he’s alive. Carter’s tearing the country apart trying to find the people who did it, and she’s obviously failed. I told her it must’ve been the Reds, seems to have worked. She’s out for blood now, but HYDRA’s not the target. Why draw attention now?”
“Because there is an 87% chance that Daniel Sousa is alive. Beyond that, I am not certain of his whereabouts. Our Predictor, Sybil, is not here. The odds of the SHIELD team successfully saving his life were quite high, but beyond that there were too many possibilities to list. His body was lost in transit, and the morgue never received it. Three of my Hunters were destroyed in an attempt to kill Quake and Melinda May, but judging from when their self destruct protocols activated, they likely delayed SHIELD long enough to cause them to miss their jump home. Therefore it is likely that Daniel Sousa, Melinda May, and Daisy Johnson are all alive and in 1955. This must be rectified if our plans are to succeed. You must find them, and kill them all. Especially Quake. I will give you blueprints for a proposal you will call Project Insight. You will not bring it to your superiors for several years, but I expect it will make up for any deficiencies wrought by future SHIELD’s presence.”
“Why do you care so much about this Quake woman?”
“She is incredibly dangerous, and a powerful Inhuman. You would say she has superpowers. She is also the key to returning your exiled deity to Earth.” Wilfred sat up straighter in his chair, and his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists.
“How do you know about that?”
“The Chronicoms know all. You must realize this by now. Does the return of your deity Alveus not interest you?”
“Why do I need the HYDRA god’s power when I have yours?” Luke grinned, a merciless predator’s smile that did not reach his eyes. Robots were creepy.
“A good answer, Mr. Malick. A very good answer indeed. Regardless, your possession of the Monolith will scare her greatly, and may even flush her out of hiding. I would also recommend watching your HYDRA compatriots more closely. SHIELD will be surveilling them, and if you can spot their agents, they may lead you back to Quake.”
He hated how much sense Luke was making, even if none of what he was asking was easy. He’d do it, but he’d complain the whole time. This better be worth it.
“Anything else?”
“Yes. The bond between Melinda May and Daisy Johnson is quite close. Most human superior officers develop ties to their subordinates, but theirs runs deeper than most such relationships. Additionally, out of the times when the SHIELD team saves Daniel Sousa’s life and both Johnson and Sousa survive more than a week, they have a 73% chance of beginning a romantic relationship. You humans’ emotions are a weakness. One that can be exploited.”
“I couldn’t agree more. Looks like we have work to do over the next 18 years. You’ll be here to help?”
Wilfred didn’t give a shit about the Chronicoms’ grand plan, but knowledge of the future and advanced alien technology would allow him to rise the ranks of HYDRA and SHIELD even faster than he already had. He’d learned a long time ago to take every advantage he could get.
“As I have always been.”
Notes:
Next chapter, the plot will finally properly kick off. Apologies for all the set-up, exposition, and infodumping.
Chapter 4
Notes:
Thanks are due, as always, to my wonderful beta GlaringRed. This chapter would've been absolutely awful without them.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
August 3, 1955
Daisy groaned and rubbed her eyes after sorting through what felt like the millionth dense personnel file of the day. The absolute worst part of investigative work in the 50s? No internet, no computers. Everything had to be done by hand. In her time, she could’ve just set up a program to do this. Instead, it all had to be manual, with boxes upon boxes of files arriving from Carter every day. The whole team was sitting around a table in a conference room that had been left completely invisible by the papers strewn across it. She was the only one who seemed to mind the monotony. May had rather quickly recovered the ability to feel emotions of her own, even if she still was tough to read. Sousa, Jones, and Friedman had never known another type of investigative work, and May had been an agent back in the olden days, so she was used to it as well. They’d been at this for over a week with almost no breaks, trying to lay the groundwork for their investigation. They’d even started a red-string diagram of HYDRA assets, with what they’d found so far. It remained depressingly empty, with only a handful of names and photos on it. She was bored out of her goddamn mind. A radio playing some big band song or another in the corner wasn’t nearly enough stimulation for her to actually manage to focus. She forced herself to dive back into a file, mindlessly humming as she looked through Zola’s finances and accounts.
“What is that?” She looked up from the file to see Jones staring at her, a puzzled expression on his face. Trip used to look at her the same way when he was confused by something she’d said.
“Hmm?”
“What you’re humming, it’s not the song on the radio, and I don’t recognize it. What is it?” Daisy caught May’s eye, swallowing thickly. How could she explain to Trip’s grandpa that she was humming “Toxic” by Brittney Spears, which wouldn’t be written for half a century or so.
“I dunno, I just made it up I guess.” She hated that Deke would be proud of her for that lie. He’d probably try to release Beatles songs ten years early if he were stuck here too, just to get rich.
“You did? It’s really catchy. You ever write songs before, Lou?” Daisy had a visceral and vivid flashback to the time SHIELD had set her up as a new pop artist for a cover, so she could get into some studio where a HYDRA official’s spoiled brat of a kid was recording a truly terrible song. It had been back in the early days of Coulson’s directorship, and she couldn’t even remember the song, though she’d even had to record a music video for it.
“Once or twice.”
Sousa seemed intrigued by that, but said nothing. May’s eyes twinkled with amusement. She clearly remembered Daisy’s old cover too. Jones just grinned and went back to his file, but a minute later, he was humming the chorus. The timeline was so screwed.
After another twenty minutes of pure boredom, Sousa stood up from his chair and limped to the door.
“I’ve got a delivery from Peggy I have to take care of, it should be here by now. You all carry on without me.”
Agent Carter had been delivering files and supplies to the team by slapping beer labels on the boxes and sending them to the bar located above the playground. The bartender there, a longtime SHIELD and SSR asset, would place them in the secret entrance booth and send them down to be recovered. They typically got new deliveries every couple days, but sorting through the boxes was a team effort. Why did Sousa make it sound like it was specifically for him this time, when he’d been so careful to share authority? Eh, whatever. It wasn’t that big a deal. She had a typewriter that she needed to learn how to use, because she absolutely refused to handwrite her next report.
Twenty minutes later, Daisy had only managed to get three whole lines typed, much to the confusion of the agents who were actually from this timeline. Locals? Natives? Nah, that sounded too racist. She’d just think of them as the old people. She was far more worried about what package had taken Sousa 20 minutes than she was organizing her train of thought.
“Hey mom, I’m gonna go check on the chief. Unpacking doesn’t take that long, and I really need to stretch my legs anyway.”
Daisy simply refused to think about how natural calling May her mother felt, and how May didn’t even need a moment to process that she was speaking to her before giving her patented nod of acknowledgement. Friedman smirked from the other end of the table, but his eyes showed friendly amusement rather than spite.
“Tired of losing to a typewriter, Agent Wen?”
“I’m sure Chief Sousa is much more interesting than our evidence board.”
Of course Jones was as perceptive as ever. Daisy made sure to flip the both of them off as she left the room, and through the sound of their laughter she heard Dugan comment.
“I like this one. She’s like if Peggy were easier to make fun of.” She guessed that was high praise? She didn’t find Sousa at the hidden entrance, though there was a box on the ground not too far from it. She checked the living quarters next, and found him nudging a box down the hallway towards his room with his foot. It was working better than she would’ve expected it too, but still seemed incredibly annoying. She could sense that the box was densely packed, and it looked just barely too big for him to comfortably carry one-handed, so this was the obvious solution. Still, it seemed like a huge pain in the ass.
“Need some help?”
“I’m alright, thanks. Peggy had some of my belongings delivered, whatever she could convince my parents to give her. It’s not mission stuff, I’m okay here.”
“Sousa, I am literally begging you. I am just… so bored. I would rather help you unpack your underwear than look at another bank record or personnel file. I hate paperwork more than you could imagine.”
“I’ll have you know paperwork is the most essential part of running a SHIELD office. Nothing gets done without it.”
“So that’s why all the records with your signature on them are so… meticulous.”
“Exactly. My paperwork’s impeccable, always has been.” Daisy chuckled, more to herself than to Sousa.
“Wow. You really are a square, huh?”
“Harsh, but yes.”
“Then I’ll make you a deal. You can keep kicking this box, I’ll go get the other, and I get a break from your beloved paperwork.”
“That’s an acceptable compromise, Agent J- Wen.”
She grinned at her victory, and his near slip-up, and walked back towards the entrance to recover the last box. It was far heavier than it looked, and by the time she’d returned with it, Sousa had almost gotten his box to his door.
“Where do you want this?”
“With the other. You sure you want to do this? It is mostly gonna be unpacking clothes and knickknacks.”
By way of reply, Daisy opened the door with her elbow, spotting another, identical box on the floor next to the dresser. Sousa entered with the final of three boxes a moment later, and kicked it over towards the dresser. Careful to leave the door open, he tossed his cane onto the bed and grabbed a pocketknife from his nightstand. He knelt next to the boxes with a small grunt of pain. Cutting open the first, he sighed when he saw its contents, and removed a framed photograph from the box. Daisy stepped close to get a better look, and saw that it showed Sousa, in army uniform before his injury, with his helmet in his hand, smiling at the camera. A couple other soldiers were in the photo, all of them, leaning on or sitting in a jeep.
“A memento?”
“A reminder. Both those men are dead. Sam disintegrated when a HYDRA soldier got him, and Mike- I’ll tell you about him some other time. This was on my desk in my office, along with this.” He pulled a Brooklyn Dodgers baseball cap out of the box, tossing it onto the bed.
“I’m sorry. I know what it’s like to lose comrades.”
“They weren’t, they were my subordinates. You’ve read my file, you know I was an officer, I enlisted.”
“You had your BA, all set to take over your dad’s import-export after he retired, but after Pearl Harbor you joined up.” She’d only known the basics of his SHIELD career before their mission to the past, but had read through his files before posing as a CIA agent in his office.
“Yeah, I lost a cousin there. I signed up to make sure no one else lost anybody.” His voice was full of equal parts despair and determination. She’d heard that tone from him too often lately, and resisted the instinct to lay a hand on his shoulder.
“Is that why you joined the SSR too?”
“Yeah. There was still work to be done, people who needed help. I figured that if I could save a few lives and pick up a few better people than me after they fell, I’d still be fighting, even if I couldn’t be on the front.”
“And you were right. You’ve saved countless lives, and when we take down HYDRA, you’ll be saving even more.”
“I hope so,” He reached into the box again, pulling out a few folded shirts, and put them in one of the dresser’s drawers. “I’d rather not lose any more good people. I want them gone as quickly as possible, I can’t stand hiding in the shadows like this.” On that, they were in complete agreement
“Then let me go in the field. I can do more out there, I can’t even type up reports properly if I’m stuck on the base all day.”
“You don’t need my permission, Daisy, you know that. But I appreciate the heads up at least, so if anything goes wrong I can cover for you. You’re so used to taking orders you don’t even realize that you’ve already thought of the best options.” She’d had a team before, and been a vigilante with only herself to answer to. Neither of those had ended well for her- or anyone else. Even a year later, she still wondered why Coulson had put her in charge when he grew too sick to lead. She was a terrible Director, no matter what Sousa seemed to think. Daisy still knew, despite her instinct to argue, when to accept a victory.
“I won’t ask next time, then.”
“Good. You’ll have to be okay with calling the shots for yourself at least. You’ve got good instincts.” He dug a pistol out of the box, and stuck it into his empty shoulder holster. Daisy rolled her eyes and started unloading the second, passing any less obvious items off to Sousa for organization. She diverted the subject, trying to avoid discussing the last time she’d been given a command.
“It’s not the first time. I used to be a vigilante.”
“A good one?”
“The best.”
“Isn’t that peachy. And do all vigilantes not know how to move to the next line on a typewriter?” Was he flirting with her?
“Actually, in the 21st century we have these things called computers. They’re much easier to type on. Only old people use typewriters anymore. Or say peachy.”
“Why, does it mean something different now?” The concern on his face was, admittedly, adorable.
“No, it just- never mind. Can you show me how to move to a new line? I couldn’t exactly ask in front of the other old-timers.”
“Of course. Like I told you; whatever you need, I’ll help.”
August 4, 1955
Even May couldn’t avoid a sense of nostalgia. She’d been slowly getting her own emotions back over the weeks since her death in Izel’s dimension, and her empathic powers had been steadily growing. She didn’t have to touch the woman in the seat next to her to know that Daisy was delighted by the junk food she was eating, an essential stakeout staple, while also being bored out of her mind. She seemed better attuned to Daisy’s emotions in particular, being able to recognize them more easily than those of people she was less familiar with. She’d been sensing both Daisy and Sousa’s steadily growing crushes on each other, although that would’ve been obvious even without powers. She felt how comfortable Daisy was with their cover as mother and daughter. The anger, heartbreak, and loss that had pervaded Daisy’s emotions since they’d been stranded in the past, however, weren’t only in Daisy’s mind. The more May got her emotions back, the more she felt the same. They both missed their team, especially Coulson, and even his LMD copy. They were both pissed to be stuck in the 50s, and pissed about how much drudgery was involved in the process of uprooting HYDRA. Their emotions on the matter often blended together in May’s perception- when she and Daisy felt the same, and so strongly, about something, it was hard for May to tell whose emotion was whose.
In this case, it was obvious that the nostalgia May was feeling was her own. Daisy didn’t have decades of stakeouts under her belt, many of them filled with happy moments with someone she hadn’t let herself love the way she should’ve. Stakeouts were, by their nature, incredibly boring, but she’d managed to make good memories on many of them. This was not to be one of those more pleasant stakeouts. She was roasting like a goddamn chicken in an unmarked van, across the street from the entrance to the Malick estate. Nothing had happened in an hour. Had they really taken the Quinjet across the country for this? Their fuel reserves were dwindling.
“Daisy. I know you were bored. But out of all the assignments you could’ve asked for, why did you get us this one?”
“That’s easy, I missed In-n-Out. Want a fry?” May couldn’t suppress a smile, and she took the offered fry.
“And because you had a hunch?”
“Sensed that, huh? Yeah, I think Malick’s up to something. He’s the one who had Sousa killed, the Chronicoms saw him as important, and he met Deke. Plus, his son really sucks, and he’s a high-ranking SHIELD agent. He’s definitely doing something important, we’re gonna find out what.”
“We’d have to break in for that, staking out won’t help us.”
“Oh I agree, and I can’t wait, but it’s nice to confirm one more thing first.”
“And what thing is that?”
Daisy pointed with a fry at a man walking up to the Malick mansion. He looked mean, but otherwise unremarkable.
“I fought him at FDR’s party in 1931. Malick’s working with the Chronicoms.”
“Enoch’s gonna be thrilled.”
August 5, 1955
Daniel put down the receiver, looking over the faces of the five agents crammed into his office. All of them looked as thrilled as he felt. Finally, they had a chance to actually do something. As much as he appreciated paperwork, even he was getting antsy. He could finally take the fight to the son of a bitch who he’d trusted, and considered a friend. Who tried to have him killed- and would have succeeded if it wasn’t for time travel.
“Peggy confirmed: we have authorization to raid Malick’s estate in LA. He’ll be in DC for a three-day series of meetings next week, and he’s bringing the wife and kids out east with him. As long as we make it look like a break in for valuables, we’re good to go. I want action plans on my desk by tomorrow morning, then we’ll put together a team. Let’s go make some calamari.”
“You really need better one-liners, Sousa.”
“Dugan, don’t be a wise-ass to the guy who decides if you get to see action. He’s right though.”
“Thank you as always for your candor, Agent Jones. You’re all dismissed.”
As the team was leaving his too-cramped-for-this office, Daisy looked back at him, grinned, and winked, before closing the door behind her. He wasn’t at all sure what that wink was supposed to mean, but Daniel recognized that fox-in-a-henhouse smile. It was the same one Daisy used when she’d explained how she and her team had beaten HYDRA the first time. Malick was going to have no idea what hit hit. Daniel was, however, quite sure why such a dangerous smile, from such a dangerous woman, had made his stomach do a backflip. So much for not falling for her.
Notes:
This is the last bit of setup I needed to get out of the way, the next chapter will be the raid on Malick's mansion
Chapter Text
August 10, 1955
The moon shone overhead as a UPS truck came to a halt in front of a set of ornate iron gates. Daisy quickly hopped out the back door, bolt cutters in hand. She managed to cut the lock off the gate and swing it open within a few seconds, pushing it closed again once the truck was inside. They were in. Faking a b&e in a time before CCTV cameras were widespread was easy enough, and thankfully the quiet streets of Beverly Hills were absolutely deserted at this time of night. Peggy Carter had given the team back-end support, including having this truck waiting at the tarmac in LA, and getting Stark to lend them a private plane for May to fly across the country, but the catch for her cooperation was complete deniability. They had to make this look like a burglary, which meant they had to look like amateurs, not secret agents.
Daisy hopped back in the truck, adrenaline already rushing through her system, and after a minute or so, Dugan had driven them right up to Malick’s front door. The assembled agents split off into teams in silence, everyone knowing their assignment. Daisy took up a hammer and screwdriver to break the door’s lock with, May and Friedman grabbed several empty duffel bags, Sousa would be their guide, and Dugan and Jones would be loading their stolen goodies onto the truck, and serving as the getaway drivers. Sousa had apparently visited his boss at home a handful of times, as Malick occasionally hosted dinners for his SHIELD colleagues, and so would be showing them around. Daisy glanced at him as she grabbed her tools, but instead of the anger she expected, he just seemed determined to get this done. She supposed his need for revenge was probably more pressing than his turmoil over being back in LA.
The team worked in utter silence, apart from the clicking of Sousa’s cane. Daisy used her powers to muffle the sound of the lock breaking, hoping the rest of the team wouldn’t notice. She handed the hammer and screwdriver off to Dugan, and the four of them on burglary duty slipped into the massive house. It was luxurious beyond Daisy’s imaginings, even if it was furnished and styled in a way she’d always associated with old people and old movies. She suspected that if she’d known her grandparents, she might associate it with them too- although since her mom was already an adult in 1955, and living in rural China, maybe not. Sousa led them through a few equally luxurious rooms and into Malick’s study, where he made a beeline for the ornate desk positioned in front of windows. May moved to close the curtains, and once they were closed, Sousa spoke.
“I saw him put files in these drawers a few times. He keeps the key between two books on the shelves- Heart of Darkness and The Count of Monte Cristo .” Friedman quickly found the titles, tossing the key to his old boss. Sousa sat in Malick’s chair, unlocking every drawer and dumping their contents onto the desk. Daisy messed up the books on the shelves, to make it look like they’d had a harder time finding the key than they actually had. May and Friedman started shoveling everything Sousa had dug out of the desk into bags: there wasn’t much, but there were a few files, a gun, and a wad of cash. Sousa grabbed one of the documents out of the pile before it was bagged up: it was a simple stack of pages, stapled together in one corner.
“This is the report I gave him. The one about HYDRA’s infiltration of SHIELD and the SSR. Not sure why he kept it, but I’m sure there’s something in here I forgot about. It’ll come in handy.”
Useful, but not nearly enough. Daisy reached out with her vibrational senses, trying to see if there was anything in the room that they’d missed. She didn’t sense anything out of the ordinary, but below her feet, she felt something… odd. Simultaneously ultra-dense and light as a feather, stable and high-energy. About two meters tall. She hadn’t sensed it in many years, but it was too unique to be anything but the Monolith. Her breath caught in her throat: this was her chance. She could destroy it, here and now. She could stop Hive from coming back, if she could find the cuttings too. So many people would never have to die. Lincoln would never have to sacrifice himself for her. She had to do this.
The study was on the ground floor, so it had to be in some sort of basement. She just had to find a way to get down there and destroy it without Friedman, Dugan, or Jones noticing she had powers.
“Okay… this can’t be it. This is too obvious, and there's too little. Sousa, where else could Malick have hidden stuff? Is there a basement or an attic?”
“Yeah, he’s got a basement. It’s nice, but there’s probably a hidden room or two I haven't seen. No attic, but I’d bet my other leg there’s a safe behind this one painting in his bedroom- through that doorway, second door on the left.” That was perfect.
“Mom, you and Friedman go take the bedroom. You’re better at safecracking. Sousa, show me the basement. Let’s find those hidden rooms. You know the layout here best.” She hadn’t even realized how natural giving orders felt until May and Friedman were out the door, and Sousa was smiling wryly at her, a twinkle in his eye.
“So why did you really want to see the basement so badly?” She forgot sometimes that he was genuinely good at his job, and far more perceptive than she often gave him credit for. Smart, surprisingly funny, and good-looking. Nope, not the time for that.
“I can sense something below us. It’s the most dangerous thing on the planet by far, and I’m the only one who can destroy it.” He didn’t take a moment to question or hesitate, he simply pointed with his cane.
“It’s that way, follow me.”
The closer they got to the basement, the louder the ringing of the Monolith grew in her mind. Sousa led them down a flight of stairs, and into a cushy finished basement. Daisy ignored the wine cellar and laundry room, walking purposefully towards a closed doorway. Sousa followed her into a completely unremarkable, though spacious, storage closet, but the two agents knew better. She sensed the Monolith was about thirty feet ahead of her, through what appeared to be a blank wall. Sousa started feeling for a release to open the hidden door that they both knew had to be there. Daisy managed to find it first, pressing a brick a few inches above the ground. She stuck her tongue out at him, and he rolled his eyes.
“That’s not fair, you’ve got powers.”
“Try to keep up, Danny boy.”
The wall swung open, revealing a room packed with boxes and files, with a plain iron door on one wall. The Monolith called to her from beyond it. Sousa whistled appreciatively and let the two empty bags he was carrying drop to the floor. Daisy strode to the closest of the boxes, opening it, and found a Tesseract-powered pistol within: a HYDRA weapon from World War Two. The next box contained what she recognized as the Xandarian equivalent of a catalytic converter, and another had a scrap of metal with Kree writing on it. She tossed the pistol into one of the bags, leaving the alien trash behind. Sousa was focused on the files, and lifted a piece of paper for her to see. It was in German, with the HYDRA emblem and Swastika emblazoned on it. It looked like bank records, though she couldn’t be sure.
“This document alone would be proof enough to arrest him. What’d you find?”
“A souvenir and some alien junk. Let’s keep looking, take as much useful or dangerous stuff as we can.”
When the bags were full enough that she could put it off no longer, she set them by the hidden doorway and stepped towards the heavyset iron door at the far side of the room. She couldn’t read the Hebrew word carved in bas relief above the door, but she knew what it said: Maveth . She knew doing this would expose their raid as no mere robbery, she knew May and Carter would be pissed, but it didn’t matter. This was too important.
“Sousa, if anything comes out of there, I need you to shoot me. It might look human, it might not. Just promise me that you’ll put a bullet in my head, then run. Tell May, she’ll know what to do.” He just laughed at her. Couldn’t he see how serious she was?
“Daisy, I’m not gonna shoot you.”
“You’ll have to, because if you don’t, he’ll kill you, or he’ll make me do it. Promise me.”
“I-”
“Please. I don’t want to have to hurt you.” Daisy knew he was lying when he acquiesced, but she still took his small, stiff nod as confirmation. It would have to be enough. She hoped her tone conveyed that she wasn’t threatening him, she was heartbroken, and trying to save his life. She’d destroy the damn Monolith as quickly as she could, then find the cuttings and destroy them too, but if Hive was close enough to where the portal would form, he might come through before she could trap him. It was a risk she would have to take.
Daisy took a deep breath, steading herself as best she could. She could feel the Monolith’s vibrations on the other side of the door, taunting her, ringing in her bones. She gestured for Sousa to stand back, and he did so without complaint. Daisy turned the handle gingerly, as if it was red-hot, standing back quickly. Through the door was a small, circular room, large enough to fit the monolith and maybe three or four people. It wasn’t the massive subwoofer that the castle in Gloucestershire had hosted, she assumed this was just meant to store the Monolith and let it activate on its own time, rather than attempting to control it.
In the middle of the room was the Monolith itself, bursting with power, calling out to her. She forced down a wave of overwhelming fear, and took another breath.
“What is that thing?”
“I’ll explain after. I need to focus.”
She concentrated on the vibrations of the Monolith, recalling the incessant pounding in her skull that its resonant frequency had caused. Without the acoustics of the castle’s room, this would be much more difficult, but she had no other choice. Stretching out her hands, she took one last deep breath, and projected all the power she could muster directly into the Monolith. She heard Sousa gasp behind her, but paid him no mind. She had to focus. It took a moment to tune to the correct frequency, but she knew she’d found it when her head started to feel like it had been injected with molten lead. She knew she couldn’t ever forget that goddamn sound. The Monolith melted into a roiling, inky puddle, thankfully staying within the confines of its room. The ground shook, dust fell from the ceiling, and she vaguely heard Sousa shouting her name. Her head was killing her, she tasted blood in her mouth and felt it in her nose, and Sousa’s shouts sounded as though they were under water. The too-black liquid churned more strongly, looking almost angry, and the pain in her head got worse. She shouted from the exertion, putting everything she had into tearing the wretched portal apart. For Lincoln, for Andrew, for Jemma, for herself.
The angry sea burst apart all at once, covering Daisy in sticky black dust. She could feel in its vibrations that the dust was inert, powerless. Just that much more pulverized rock. She’d done it. It worked. Daisy had just enough time to register just how much her arms and head hurt before the ground rushed up to meet her.
-
May had just finished emptying the contents of Malick’s hidden safe, a mix of cash, expensive jewelry, and files, into a duffel bag when the building shook around them. Friedman cursed in Polish and zipped up the bag, moving to take cover in the doorway, but May knew better. This wasn’t a normal earthquake.
“They’re in trouble.”
She pushed past him, grabbing the bag from his hands and running down the staircase as fast as she could manage. She dropped it by the front door and scrambled to find the basement entrance as the quaking grew worse. Friedman shouted after her, following close behind, but she ignored him. Daisy was using her powers, and intensively. This couldn’t be good. The quaking suddenly stopped just as she found the basement door, and she ran down the stairs three at a time. Hopefully, that meant she’d just won her fight, rather than lost it.
-
Daniel crouched down next to Daisy, his cane forgotten. She had blood running from her nostrils and ears, was drenched in sweat, eyes were fluttering, and bruises blossoming on her forearms. She looked half-dead, and he swallowed down the bile in his throat. Why had she asked him to kill her? What had she meant about hurting him? And why did she think he’d ever put so much as a scratch on her?
“Daisy?”
“Gloucester- Gloucestershire. It happened before.”
“Hey, stay with me. What do you mean this happened before?”
“Hive. I ca- Hive.”
“Hey, hey, hey. I said I’d tell you about Mike Stevens, right?” Daniel sat down, leaning against the wall Daisy had curled against, and gently moved her head onto his leg. Physical contact had helped ground him, ten years earlier. Hopefully it helped her now. He was breathing heavily, half-panicked at the thought of losing yet another friend, this time to her own powers and that goddamn rock. Whatever it was. He hoped she couldn’t hear the panic in his voice, and tried to steady his breathing as he spoke. “Right, well, I think it was uh… foggy. When I lost my leg, at Bastogne. I can’t really remember the hit, but when I came to, my leg was a pulpy mess and I was completely alone.” He felt for a pulse on her neck, letting out a sigh of relief when he found it. Her heartbeat was weak, but steady. She was alive. He moved his hand to the top of her head, stroking her hair while he spoke. Anything to keep her focus on him, to distract her from the pain, make sure she stayed awake and alive long enough for May to come running. Those quakes had to have drawn her attention. “And then Mike Stevens showed up. And the thing about Mike is he was a resolute ass.” Daniel chuckled to himself, but Daisy groaned in pain against his thigh, pressing her face down. His pants were covered in her blood and the weird black dust, but that didn’t matter. She was making noise, that meant she was alive.
“He was always bullying the new guys, stole cigs. But that day, he just kept talking to me. Carried me back from the line.” Daisy stopped stirring, and her eyelids started drifting shut. He patted her shoulder hard enough to get her attention, but was careful not to hurt her. He still had no idea what had happened to her, how bad this was, or what to do about it. “Hey, hey! Wake up, okay? Stay awake, okay?” She nodded weakly into his leg, and he continued, relieved that she was alive. He managed to stop breathing so heavily, and continued speaking in a calmer tone. “For the next couple hours, he stayed with me. When the Germans advanced, when the cold got so bad I thought we would freeze, he just kept telling me; ‘we are going home’.” He paused again to collect his thoughts and check her pulse. Satisfied that her heartbeat was still going, and that the bleeding from her ears and nose had stopped, he returned his hand to carding through her hair. She leaned slightly into his touch, another good sign.
“And then at some point I was in a field stretcher, and uh… Mike wasn’t. So consider my yapping as a way of passing on the favor.” He leaned over her, speaking directly into her ear, hoping his voice got through the blood and her daze. “We are going home, Agent Johnson. You hear me? We’re going home. But you have got to fight.”
“What happened? Is she okay?” Daniel looked up, startled, to see May and an out of breath Friedman in the doorway. May looked as panicked as he felt, and he realized she probably felt exactly as panicked as he did. Her empathic powers might be a lot less flashy than Daisy’s vibrations, but they were no less useful.
“I have no idea. How long have you two been there?”
“Long enough to have more than a few questions. Agent Johnson, huh?” Yossi looked more pissed than worried, which was honestly fair. Daniel had put him, Peggy, and the Howling Commandos in a tough position, and he regretted it, but right now he had bigger concerns. Daisy stirred in his lap, and he checked her pulse again. It was slowly getting stronger.
“I’ll explain later. Right now we need to get her out of here, she just collapsed after destroying that rock. She needs help.”
May’s eyes widened, her typical impassive mask dropping away. She looked past Daniel and Daisy, noticing the room containing the powdered remains of the black stone that Daisy had feared so much. Daisy had mentioned Hive earlier- was this the Monolith she’d briefly mentioned, when originally catching him up on what her team had gone through? The stone that served as a portal to the HYDRA cult’s exiled god? She’d left out all the details of their fight against him, mentioning only that Hive been dangerous and killed many good people. From the amount of fear that the destroyed rock that elicited in Daisy, he suspected it was more than that. May seemed relieved to see the powdered stone as well. Yossi’s response, however, was unexpected. He pointed with a shaking finger at the Hebrew word carved above the doorway, and Daniel remembered that he could read it.
“ Moves . Death. Sousa’s right, we need to go.”
“Daisy’s going to be fine. This has happened before, she’ll be conscious again in a couple minutes. She’s just accomplished something that will save countless lives.” Yossi’s mouth opened, then shut. He knew the value of not putting dangerous missions on hold for stupid questions.
“So it was the Monolith, then.”
“Yeah. It was. Friedman, carry her out, I’ll take the duffels.”
“No need, May. I got her.” As the other two agents grabbed the full duffel bags and Daniel’s cane, he gently moved his leg out from under Daisy’s head, and painfully got to his knees. He scooped her into his arms, and managed to stand without grunting in pain. He followed May and Yossi out of the room, walking much more slowly than them, but managing to not trail too far behind. It was the stairs that were really going to suck. Daisy’s head slumped into his chest, and he felt another pang of worry for the incredible woman who’d put herself through so much, who was ready to have Daniel shoot her if it meant she could save others from the Inhuman god on the other side of that portal. He refused to let that happen, and didn’t understand why she’d wanted it so badly. Daisy was special, and not just because she had powers, but because of her strength and her selflessness. He knew then that she would succeed, that HYDRA would be rooted out because of the woman in his arms, because she was too stubborn to let anything else happen. And when she collapsed, or faltered, or was hurt, he’d be there for her, like he was now, whether as a friend or something more. Even Daisy Johnson couldn’t take on the world by herself. He wasn’t egotistical enough to think she needed his help, but he hoped that she wanted it.
Daisy groaned in pain in his arms, and May’s step faltered when she heard it. She looked back at the woman Daniel knew she saw as a daughter, her eyes welling with tears.
“May… mom… I have the world’s worst hangover.”
May chuckled, reaching out to cup Daisy’s cheek. Daniel was touched by the bond the two of them shared, though it was clear Yossi was incredibly confused by ‘Lou’ calling her ‘mom’ by her ‘first name’. May winced with her daughter’s pain when she touched Daisy’s cheek, but didn’t release her for a few moments.
“I know, honey. But you did it, the Monolith’s gone, and we got all the intel we wanted to and more. You did good, Daisy.” Daisy grunted in acknowledgment, and leaned back into Daniel’s chest. He was certain she could hear how fast his heart was racing, but she was probably too out of it to care. May blinked back tears, and kept walking towards the waiting truck.
Dugan and Jones were quick to take the bags from May and Yossi, loading them into the truck as soon as they stepped through the mansion’s ornate doors. Daniel, carrying a slightly more awake Daisy, was through a few seconds later. His leg was killing him, but it was worth it. Jones ran forward when he saw Daisy, still bloody and half-conscious.
“What happened to Lou? Is she alright?”
“I’m alright… my head just hurts. Sousa, can you-“
“Right, sorry.” He carefully set Daisy’s feet down, and she was able to stand under her own strength. May tossed him his cane, and he deftly caught it, grateful for the relief that it brought to his sore stump. Daisy pressed a hand to her forehead, wincing silently in pain, and reached out her other hand towards Daniel. He offered her an arm, and she quickly took it, putting some of her weight on him.
“Nothing to- ow- apologize for. I could sense it was hurting you. Heart rate was up.” He bit back a reply, this was neither the time nor the place for flirtatiousness, even when it would’ve been too easy.
“We need to get out of here, now. Wen, can you make it to the truck?”
“Yeah, I can. Let’s go.”
The team and their stolen goods packed into the fake mail truck, and Dugan drove them towards Stark’s airfield as fast as he could without drawing suspicion.
Notes:
Couple quick notes:
The reason Friedman says Moves instead of Maveth is because a Polish Jew of his era would use an Ashkenazi accent to pronounce Hebrew, not the anglicized Biblical style Fitz uses when he says the word allowed in the show. It's pronounced more like moe-vess, not the English verb "moves"Since Daisy doesn't have the castle room's amplification to help, destroying the Monolith would hurt a lot more, but she'll be fine.
Chapter Text
August 10, 1955
“What happened back there, Chief? Who are these people really? You two kept calling her Daisy, or Johnson, and those earthquakes were weird. So was that dust, from the room marked death. Creepy shit.” Yossi didn’t pull his gun on Daniel, May, or Daisy, but his hand was dangerously close to it. Dugan kept an eye on the conversation from the rearview mirror, while Jones watched silently from next to him, hand also near his gun. Daisy snarled in response, her head on May’s shoulder. Angering her while in a very small truck seemed like a terrible idea.
“Draw that and I’ll break every bone in your hand.” Well, she was definitely back to lucidity. Making threats was a good sign. May put a hand on Daisy’s arm, and the younger woman’s tension faded. She still looked like she was in a great deal of pain, and she was covered in her own blood, but she’d kept her fierce beauty.
“My name is Melinda May. This is Daisy Johnson, as you’ve figured out. We’re SHIELD agents, and we did save Sousa’s life. What we didn’t mention is that we’re from the future, and Daisy’s enhanced. I promise you we’re on your side. We can’t give out any more details for your own safety, but we want HYDRA gone, and we’re here to help.” Dugan and Jones met each other’s eyes and started cackling.
“Where’d you find these two lunatics, Sousa?” Daisy glared at Jones for his stupid-ass comment, and lazily pointed a finger. Dugan’s bowler hat was blasted off his head, earning a curse and a swerve from the man. “Okay. I believe you. What’s the future like?”
“Classified.” May deadpanned. Daniel couldn’t help but laugh. “But seriously, the enemies we were fighting when we got stranded here are capable of reading minds. We changed our names for a good reason, and the more we tell you, the more dangerous it is for all of us. Not to mention that the less HYDRA thinks we know, the more opportunity we have to take them by surprise. This is not information that you should be spreading around.”
“I was supposed to die a few weeks ago. Daisy and May saved my sorry ass, even though that wasn’t their mission, not to mention helping me complete my own, and saving the Groom Lake facility from blowing up the same day. From what they’ve told me and what I’ve seen, we can trust them. I certainly do.”
Yossi and Jones exchanged identical glances. After a silent conversation, both men moved their hands away from their holstered weapons. The other agents were used to chain of command and need-to-know, and didn’t stick their noses in further. Daniel’s old colleague smiled softly at him, then looked between the two women.
“I have one more question. Are you two actually mother and daughter? You have different last names, and you called her May earlier.” Before either Daisy or Daniel could speak, May did.
“Yes. She’s my daughter.” Daisy let out a choked sob, and May wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Yossi didn’t seem to believe her, but he nodded anyway.
“You’re separated from your husband then? Stuck here?”
“Her father died last year. We’re separated from friends, colleagues we traveled through time with. We got left behind while saving Sousa’s life.” Daisy leaned further into May at the mention of her father- she had to have meant Coulson, right? They’d said that the real Coulson had died of an old wound a year ago. He hadn’t realized that he’d meant so much to the both of them. Daisy had said that her birth parents were both dead, and they’d done terrible things, but as with many aspects of her history with SHIELD, she and May had left out all the painful details. Daniel was glad, at least, that the two of them had been stranded together, rather than on their own. From what he’d seen, they needed each other.
“Does Peg know?” Dugan asked. Daniel cleared his throat awkwardly before replying.
“Parts. She knows they’re from the future, but not their names. Or any details.”
“If you don’t tell her, Sousa, I will. If they’ve given you the details, she should get them too.” Daniel started to respond, but Daisy cut him off.
“I agree. She needs to know a bit more. Not much, but she’s been helping us a lot. If we told her more, she might give us more resources. We’ll tell her the next chance we get.” May nodded her agreement, and Dugan seemed satisfied with that. Daniel knew all too well that SHIELD was full of people like Jack Thompson who would do anything to get ahead, and those like Stark who acted rashly out of scientific curiosity without thought of consequence. There were plenty more out there who would run anti-Communist witch hunts or disregard the lives of agents- especially female ones- for the US’s benefit. He’d agreed to go into hiding because it kept his family and friends safe, and because it was the best strategy for getting rid of HYDRA. He understood that Daisy and May were risking just as much, and the wrong kind of exposure could land Daisy on an operating table under the knife of some psychopath who wanted to see what made her powers tick, or lead to them becoming the playthings of some Senator who just wanted to learn the best path to the White House. Destroying the Monolith might have alerted HYDRA and their alien robot allies to Daisy’s presence in 1955, but she had as much to fear from SHIELD and the Defense Department as she did from HYDRA. They’d have to be careful how much they revealed and to whom. Daniel’s minimal influence wouldn’t be much protection, and even though he trusted Peggy to do the right thing, she wasn’t in charge- and even if she had been, there were other powerful figures to consider.
By the time they’d reached the airstrip, Daisy had fallen asleep on her mom’s shoulder, and May opted to have Daniel carry her onboard rather than wake her up, a knowing smirk on her lips. Daniel had not been a religious man for many years, but he silently prayed that May hadn’t sensed all the emotions her request evoked. Or everything he’d felt at the mansion. Or all the times he, May, and Daisy had been in the same room since they’d met. He suspected that with his luck, she knew exactly how he felt. He could only hope she didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure how he wanted to handle this just yet. The older woman started up the plane after all the duffels had been brought over, and they flew back to Virginia without further incident.
August 11, 1955
The entire team was in a good mood when they touched down at another of Stark’s airfields outside Arlington, a short drive from the Playground. The sun was up, it was a tolerably hot day, and they’d achieved the impossible. In one night, without a single casualty, they’d gotten more information on HYDRA’s activities than SHIELD had gathered from 1945 to 2014 in the original timeline. Everyone but May had dozed on the way over, and Daisy had managed to clean off the blood and Monolith dust. Most of it, anyway. She still desperately needed a shower before the slog of analyzing files resumed. She knew revealing her powers was risky, but by destroying the Monolith she’d backed herself into a corner. The Chronicoms definitely knew she was here now, but by staying under the radar, hopefully she could avoid drawing their attention any more, or letting them know May was here too, or that Sousa was alive. And if SHIELD tried to Index her, she’d fight her way out if she had to.
She trusted Sousa, but almost no one else in the organization could be relied on, especially when they might be HYDRA. Why she trusted him so implicitly, she had no idea, but everything she’d read about him and seen for herself over the last weeks had indicated that he was, if nothing else, a good man. She knew Carter was probably just as trustworthy, and definitely wouldn’t dissect her, but she couldn’t be sure about if the future Director would try to Index her or not. She had created the list in the first place, but she’d loved an Enhanced person in the past. Daisy supposed she’d find out for herself soon enough. She and May had told Sousa only the very basics about Inhumans- mostly ancient history. He didn’t know Afterlife’s location, and she would die to protect her people’s existence from SHIELD at large. The last thing she wanted was another Gonzalez. Jiaying may have been the one to murder him, but he and Calderon had hunted her like an animal, just for being enhanced. The SHIELD she was working for now was the organization that had taught them to see powered people that way, to lock them away and tag them unless they were useful cannon fodder. She wouldn’t let herself become a pawn in SHIELD’s or Afterlife’s games, and she would not expose her people to the world’s hatred. Not again. Secrecy had always been her people’s sanctuary, it would have to be hers too if she wanted to survive this time.
After a short drive to the Playground, and a desperately-needed shower and change of clothes for both her and Sousa, the work began again. Daisy’s arms still hurt, and from the way he was rubbing at his stump it was clear Sousa’s leg did too, and everyone needed a nap, but no one seemed to care. The various trinkets and artifacts they’d stolen from Malick were categorized and locked away, his files were organized for later analysis, and the cash and valuables were added to the base’s reserves. After a few hours, Daisy was confident that they wouldn’t blow themselves up with some super-gun, and the team dove into Sousa’s beloved paperwork. God, he was such a dork. The common room became strewn with papers and photographs, as the conspiracy board that took up one wall rapidly became more dense and crowded. Malick’s archives were a veritable gold mine- they confirmed everything from the Council of Nine having HYDRA connections to the Malick family’s misdeeds stretching back centuries. A dozen high-ranking SHIELD officials, a few politicians, several military officers, and countless American and foreign businessmen and industrialists were implicated in HYDRA’s sprawling infiltration. Despite being bored, pained, and exhausted, Daisy was energized by the huge amounts of progress they’d managed to make. Sousa swore loudly every time a suspicion of his was confirmed or a trusted friend turned out to be a traitor, and Dugan and Jones all but salivated over all the HYDRA facilities they uncovered. The two of them clearly missed field work. Shortly after the lunch break, Dugan tapped a thick stack of files on the table in front of him.
“These are all in Russian. Anyone speak it?”
“Only the dirty words. I dated a Russian hacker for a little while, but she only ever taught me the fun parts.” The entire room stared at Daisy, and it took her a moment to realize why, but she decided to have some fun with it anyways. “Oh, a hacker. That’s what I used to be. It’s like a computer codebreaker- computers are really big in the future.” Sousa was smiling softly- he actually looked relieved. Friedman leaned forward with interest. Both those responses were noteworthy, but she’d have to figure out why another time.
“Same-sex relationships are normal in the future? Legal?”
“They’re still not completely accepted by everyone, but there’s a lot of progress made in the next sixty years. I’ve had relationships with both men and women before, that’s pretty common by 2019. In the US at least, same-sex marriage is legal. There’s a huge protest movement in the sixties for Black civil rights too, and the 70s are great for women’s rights. 2019’s far from perfect but it’s a lot better than this. The sexual revolution’s going to give you all aneurysms in a few years.” Dugan cackled, startling Daisy.
“Now that revolution sounds like fun.” Jones punched him in the shoulder, and the tension was broken.
“I’m glad there’s something to look forward to, at least. Maybe in a few years we can desegregate SHIELD facilities without a riot from the Southern agents. But does anyone other than Daisy know any Russian? If we can prove a tie between HYDRA and the Soviets, we might get a lot more funding and personnel.” The fact that Sousa was thinking like a politician didn’t make him any less right. May raised her hand, and Dugan slid the documents over to her.
“I’m a bit rusty, but I’ll see what I can do.”
May turned out to be able to decipher the documents, for the most part, and proved that HYDRA had infiltrated the USSR through their own equivalent of Operation Paperclip. Many of the HYDRA cult’s adherents in Russia had been killed or driven out during the Bolshevik revolution, but now a quiet collaboration between one HYDRA faction and some members of the Red Army’s officer corps seemed to be alive and well. There were some mentions of a facility in Siberia, and a weapon stored there, but May couldn’t figure out what it was.
The stack of German documents fell to Jones and Friedman to decipher. Jones was more or less proficient in German, and had functioned as the Howling Commandos’ translator. Friedman had learned before the war, as it was similar enough to his native Yiddish to give him little trouble. The men in the room amused themselves between files by asking Daisy and her mom stupid questions about the future. Dugan wanted to know about the state of SHIELD, Jones had tons of questions about world history, Sousa asked mostly about technology (but only because he’d had so many questions answered already), and Friedman was more curious about pop culture and music. They dodged their questions as best they could, not wanting to accidentally stop the better parts of the next sixty years from coming to pass, but it still made for a fun way to pass the time. Daisy didn’t care much about preserving the timeline, since she knew it had changed too much to salvage, but she was still terrified of SHIELD or the government deciding her knowledge was too valuable a resource to let go, or someone with less-than-stellar intentions deciding to change things for their own benefit. Daisy made a game of stringing together the most elaborate tales possible and seeing how long it took them to figure out she was lying, and she promised to show Sousa how an iPhone worked, to his delight. Jones asked a question she didn’t expect after a particularly tall tale left even May laughing.
“Are there more super soldiers in the future?”
“There’s plenty of attempts, but none like Captain America.” She and May had decided to avoid telling Barnes’ old teammates that he was alive and brainwashed until they’d told Peggy Carter. “Why do you ask?”
“Because this document describes HYDRA’s early attempts to create them. Apparently after Schmidt’s face turned red, they had Zola test newer iterations of the serum on prisoners of war. Dugan and I were gonna be some of those victims- they ran some tests on Bucky, even. Didn’t work, but they tried. But before that, they tested it on Polish POWs, not Western ones. Werner Reinhardt was in charge- he’s a nasty piece of work.” Daisy’s eyes narrowed at the name, and she felt Friedman’s heart rate climb.
“I’m familiar. He killed a lot of good people, and destroyed my family. Had a penchant for dissecting powered people, and an obsession with the arcane.”
“Yeah, that’s him. We locked him up in the Rat after the war. He’s still making trouble in your time?”
“He found a way to extend his life in the 80s, and no, I won’t tell you what it is. He’s still in touch with a lot of HYDRA assets while in prison, we should see if we can get some information out of him soon.”
“Noted. Anyway, apparently back in ‘39 he dosed a whole unit of Polish troops with a serum attempt, and it failed. Basically tore them apart. A few of them lived through it, so Reinhardt hunted down their families and tested them too, to find out if there was a genetic component, and they all died. The serum didn’t even work, he was just curious. Zola got handed back the project after that, the Red Skull was mad that he’d failed, and the prisoners got dumped back into the camps. Hey, Friedman, there’s a couple sentences here I can’t figure out. Any chance you can help?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll take a look.” The Pole’s voice was shaking, and Daisy started to suspect the identity of one of the POWs who’d survived the experiments. Jones, oblivious, slid over the document. “It says the bodies of the original test subjects were used for further experimentation later. And this note at the bottom here says HYDRA assets in the SSR should be asked for their input- it’s dated from after Project Rebirth. That’s why Malick had the file. There’s also a list of the names and inmate numbers of the survivors on the next page, in case further testing was… deemed necessary.” He rubbed at his forearm, and left the room a moment later, claiming he needed to use the bathroom. No one spoke for a little while after that. The depths of evil that they were up against were easier to forget when it was just pieces of paper, abstract ideas. It was much harder to remember how much blood had been spilt by the people they were hunting down.
-
A few hours later, when the jovial mood had been restored thanks to the extensive progress being made, Dugan left the common room without warning. He returned after a moment with an entire case of bourbon. He set two bottles on the table and shelved the rest, then left again, this time bringing several cases of beer. Everyone stared at him.
“Chief, with your permission, I think some celebration is in order. We pulled off something big, and we live underneath a bar. This calls for music and alcohol.” A chuckle went around the room, but Sousa took a moment to consider it. He looked to Daisy, who grinned, and to May, who just shrugged, before giving his permission.
“Pour me a drink, will you? No hangovers though, we’re all working tomorrow.” Dugan whooped with joy, and obliged Sousa’s request, pouring a drink for himself and handing worryingly full glasses to everyone else. Only Friedman declined. Jones fiddled with the radio in the corner, settling on a fast-paced guitar song that Daisy had never heard before, but she realized it was likely one of the earliest examples of rock and roll. She hated that she longed for the development of dad rock, if only so she could hear music she actually recognized again. The 60s were going to be exciting, if she was here that long. The team might arrive in five minutes or fifty years, there was no way to know.
“Come on, Daisy. Your father loved this song.” May stood, and extended a hand to her daughter.
“What do you mean come on?”
“I’ll show you how to dance. Your father and I took dance classes at the academy, and this was our specialty. He liked to say it was the most important song in history.”
“In history?” Jones cackled, “it’s pretty good, but I don’t know about that. This Chuck Berry guy does have talent though. You still listen to him in the future?”
“Those of us with taste do.” May replied, smiling.
While the others watched the two women with interest, Daisy gawked open-mouthed at May. She’d never seen her in such a good mood, never gotten this much information about her past out of her, and never imagined she could dance. Referring to Coulson as her father didn’t even shock her anymore, but he had a speciality? For dancing?? With May??? Jesus Christ. It was a miracle those two hadn’t gotten married decades ago. Daisy didn’t even recognize the damn song. She had to admit it was catchy, though. Maybe it was the reminder of happier times that had spurred May to be so cheerful, or she was feeding off the slightly tipsy post-victory joy that permeated the room, but she realized she didn’t care. She took May’s offered hand, and her mom started trying to show her a quick, energetic dance.
Despite being trained in Tai Chi and half a dozen martial arts, Daisy couldn’t seem to get the footwork right. It was too fast, and too unfamiliar. Nothing at all like fighting- the dance required allowing emotion to take the lead, rather than focusing on maintaining control. She smiled at May apologetically, and her mom shook her head gently.
“You’re not a hopeless case, Daisy. You’ve just never done this before. Practice.”
“I swear, I’ve got two left feet.”
“Then may I step in?” Sousa was standing on the edge of the open space that May had turned into a dance floor, offering her that calm, confident smile he seemed to only ever use when looking at her. It was odd to hear the line she’d used when saving his life on the train to LA used on her now. “I haven’t danced in years for obvious reasons, and I can’t say I’ll be any good, but I’ve just got the one foot. I’ll balance you out.” Jones cackled at the absolutely terrible line, but neither Sousa nor Daisy heard him. Dugan whacked his friend gently on the back of the head, and the laughter stopped. Sensing her answer before she vocalized it, May stepped away from Daisy and took a seat. She gave Daisy one of those all but unreadable expressions of hers, but she was able to see the encouragement in her mother’s face. When Sousa limped forward and offered her a hand, she took it.
Surprisingly, it worked. The song had changed, but he guided Daisy through the steps that May had been trying to show her. His leg slowed them down, but just by a bit, and it was exactly what Daisy had needed. It only hurt him half the time when she stepped on his toes. May had never been good at easing her trainees into things, she was far too used to making good agents into great ones. Sousa, the volunteer officer in an army of draftees, was better at teaching amateurs. Just when she’d gotten the hang of the steps, whirls, and dips of the song, the radio station changed. Instead of an upbeat, jazzy tune, a slower, more emotional ballad started to play. She looked over to the radio, finding her mom sitting next to it. May was leaning back in the armchair, feet up on the coffee table and a drink in her hand, as if she’d done nothing at all. She winked at Daisy, who rolled her eyes back at her.
Daniel shifted to a slower, simpler dance, matching the new song’s tempo. She got the hang of it much quicker this time. Instead of constantly moving closer and farther apart, catching and releasing, the new dance called for them to stay all but flush against each other. His hand hovered over her waist, and he caught her eye, silently asking permission. She nodded, and it was back to that same, annoyingly cute smile. She didn’t mind.
Daisy was hyper-aware of how close they were, the fact they were holding hands, Daniel’s other hand settling on her waist and her other arm around his shoulder. She managed not to lean into that touch, despite how reassuring it felt. Even his vibrations felt steady and solid, although his heart was racing far faster than it had any right to be. She couldn’t judge him though, hers was too, and she was sure his leg was killing him. The rest of the room fell away, and she focused only on the warmth in Daniel’s eyes. Why was he looking at her that way? She knew why on a purely logical level, but wouldn’t let herself admit just yet that she felt the same. Certainly not to him. Not when she could be whisked away at any point by the team returning, when she was stuck in this hellish, HYDRA-infested time. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them. He deserved better than that. For the moment, though, she didn’t care. She was allowed to want something for herself every once in a while, right? And before getting stuck in the past, she’d finally started to think that maybe, just maybe, she’d recovered enough from Lincoln’s death to be in a relationship again. She’d managed to avenge him, after all. A dance couldn't hurt. The fifties were all about chivalry and that sort of thing, a dance was tame, and didn’t have to mean anything. She let herself enjoy the music, the dancing- and the company. Especially the company.
When the song ended, and Daniel didn’t release her, she didn’t let go either. The next song was faster, and he showed her the moves for a dance that matched the new tempo. The others may have danced as well, or may have left the room, or just gotten blind drunk. Daisy didn’t notice. They stayed like that a while, through several songs, and sometime around when May started teaching Yossi a jig while maintaining her badass SO demeanor and Dugan tried his hand at the Charleston, Daniel finally spoke into her ear, only barely loud enough for her to hear.
“You okay, Daisy?”
“Yeah. I am.”
She was surprised to find that she meant it. When the team finally called it a night, and went their separate ways to bed, they managed to reluctantly release each other. Everyone murmured their goodnights, no one wanting to disturb the serenity of the evening, and Daisy had her first peaceful night’s rest since she’d returned to Earth, two months and a lifetime ago. And if she wished she hadn’t been sleeping alone, she didn’t allow herself to consider as a real possibility that she might not have to. Only idle fantasy, however appealing it might have been.
Chapter 7
Notes:
Thanks are due as always to my beta reader, GlaringRed
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
August 12, 1955
This, more than anything else so far, felt like she was back home, on the Playground, years before. Daisy and her mom were on the sparring mats at 5am, gracefully moving through a Tai Chi form. Daisy had kept up the habit in space, but she’d missed the chance to practice with May. The base was silent this time of day, and it was just the two of them, free to speak their minds and enjoy a comfortable silence. Though in recent days, while the comfort had remained, the silence had not. May had started teaching Daisy Chinese while they enacted their forms. She’d claimed it was just useful for their cover- Mei Wen spoke Mandarin, so her daughter Louise Wen should too. Neither of them had discussed that Melinda May had also claimed Daisy Johnson as her child. Neither of them needed to. Daisy knew better than to expect a heart-to-heart with a SHIELD specialist, even May. She knew May could sense all of her emotions, and Daisy was the only one aside from Coulson who could tell what May was feeling with any degree of certainty. Their dance lessons the night before, the comfort she’d offered after Daisy injured herself, the gentle prodding of her and Sousa- it was enough, for Daisy. It was more than she’d ever had before, and more than May had given since Bahrain.
Clearing her mind like this had other advantages too. This was the longest she’d gone without getting into a proper fight since SHIELD fell, and it had allowed her to work on other uses of her powers. She’d started to get much better at feeling the vibrations of her surroundings in moments like this, and she was starting to notice it in less calm moments too. She’d spent so long ignoring the lessons Jiaying had taught, using her abilities only for blunt force, thinking like a soldier instead of an Inhuman. Being bored out of her goddamn mind for so much time had slowly started to change that. She didn’t even have to purposefully reach out anymore to feel May beside her, the base around her, Alexandria above. The more she cleared her mind of her other, more mundane senses, the more she allowed herself to feel and accept her abilities instead of shoving them aside or using them only in specific instances, the more they seemed to grow.
May paused her correction of Daisy’s pronunciation, switching to a different topic of conversation, though she broached it in Mandarin. Daisy resisted the urge to tilt her head in confusion, it would mess up her form.
“Something about secrets and names?”
“What do you think about still keeping our names secret from the rest of the world?”
“Why ask me?”
“I’m not your SO anymore, Daisy. I want your opinion.” Daisy bit her lip before replying.
“It fucking sucks, but it’s necessary. It’ll make it that much harder for HYDRA and the Chronicoms to find us, and we’ll need that advantage even more now.”
“You mean now that you showed your hand by destroying the Monolith?”
“I had no choice. Hive-“
“I know, Daisy. I know.” She felt a pang of guilt as she remembered that May had lost Andrew to Hive. She wasn’t the only one who’d lost a loved one. “But it does mean they know you’re here. Sousa’s survival, my presence, my powers, and the fact we’ve joined SHIELD are all still secret. Remember your combat training: take what you have, and use it to your advantage.”
“And we still have a lot of advantages…”
“Exactly. Your powers among them- but you need to use your gauntlets more.”
“I-“
“No arguments on this one. I know they have their drawbacks, but you’re no use to anyone if you turn your arms to jelly.” Daisy rolled her eyes, groaning with as much sarcasm as she could muster, but her heart wasn’t in it. She didn’t even mind that May was being a mother hen. A part of her enjoyed it, which she’d of course never admit, but she didn’t need to now. “How are your arms?”
“Better. I didn’t hurt them as badly as I used to, my control’s improving.”
“Good enough to spar?”
Without another word, the two agents stopped their Tai Chi form, raised their fists, and began circling each other on the mats, each a mirror image of the other. May struck first, aiming a solid kick directly at Daisy’s midsection. She caught her foot on a forearm, wincing at the pain, but quickly launched a punch that would’ve connected with May’s jaw if she hadn’t already been moving out of the way. It felt good to be training like this again, keeping her skills sharp with the woman who’d trained her. She hadn’t had the chance since- wow, it must’ve been before Hive. Or maybe during all the shit with Ghost Rider. Despite how long it had been, Daisy fell right back into the rhythm of the spar, even though May had her groaning in pain on the ground within thirty seconds. She couldn’t help but smile as her mom offered her a hand to get back up. Daisy took it, but instead of pulling herself up to her feet, she flipped May onto her back as well. They both leapt to their feet, turning once more to face each other, when a very British voice spoke from the doorway.
“Agents. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
Daisy had to resist the urge to bow. She still wasn’t used to Peggy goddamn Carter being someone she could actually interact with. Daniel Sousa being her sort-of boss was a big enough adjustment, but Carter was in a league of her own. She managed to only lower her fists, without saluting, bowing, or groveling. May saved her, as usual, from making a fool of herself.
“Deputy Director. To what do we owe the pleasure this early in the morning?”
“Your team is well overdue for a status report, and I wanted to make sure that your raid on Malick’s estate actually turned up something useful. Go wake Daniel and Dugan, I’ll be in my office in thirty minutes.”
Thirty minutes later, only five of which Daisy spent musing over how stupidly attractive Daniel was when he was sleepy, the four agents who Carter had requested arrived at the office that still had her name on it- even if Sousa had been using it for a few weeks. Daisy warily opened the door, fearing just how badly she was about to get chewed out, to find Carter reading a file behind her desk. She didn’t look up from it as they entered, May staying slightly behind Daisy, between her and the door. Sousa and Dugan fanned out to either side.
“Fascinating stuff. You six pulled off quite the coup. Howard’s going to be so angry when he learns I was right about Zola. I’m glad I stopped by- and it’s good to see you got my delivery, Daniel.” She pointed a thumb at the Dodgers’ cap and photos on the table behind her. “Now, who’s going to tell me why Malick didn’t file a police report about the b&e?”
Dugan, remarkably without his bowler hat, cleared his throat and shifted uneasily.
“Yeah, about that Peg… these three have a confession or two to make.”
Peggy’s painfully vicious glare locked in on Daisy, then shifted to May and Daniel in turn. She tossed the file onto the desk in front of her. Daisy’s skin crawled from the sheer power behind Carter’s eyes- she might not be Inhuman, but she was absolutely terrifying.
“Well?”
“My name is actually Daisy Johnson, and hers is actually Melinda May. Malick hasn’t reported the break-in because I destroyed something that HYDRA values above anything else, the Monolith. It is- was- a portal to another world, and there’s a very, very dangerous being on the other side. Malick probably doesn’t want the cops sniffing around enough to find its remains.” To her credit, Carter didn’t flinch. Aliases did seem rather unimportant given that she’d already learned they were from the future.
“I see. And when you say destroyed…”
“I’m Enhanced. I can control vibrations. And if you try to Index me it will not go well for you.”
“Daisy…” May warned, but she didn’t acknowledge it. She held Carter’s gaze, waiting to see who backed down first, while the two men looked ready to hide behind desks. After what felt like hours, Carter gave her a small nod.
“I assume you know about this Monolith because you encountered it in the future?”
“We did. HYDRA worships the being on the other side, they want to bring it back. I couldn’t let that happen.”
“And so you sacrificed the element of surprise, revealed your powers, and all but told Malick we were onto him because of something that won’t be a problem for, what, forty years?” The calm in Carter’s voice was scarier than yelling would have been, but Daisy was not in the mood for this shit. How dare she give her shit for saving the fucking planet from that monster. The room started to lightly shake, and Daniel looked at her in alarm. She ignored him.
“That’s not fair, Peggy, she almost died to-”
“I don’t care, Daniel. That just makes it even stupider. You three pleaded for resources and manpower to root out HYDRA just to screw us all over for a paranoid vendetta. You’ve given them time to go to ground, Agent Johnson. Something we cannot afford if anyone in this room wants to live.” The shaking got worse, and May put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. It grounded her, and she managed to take a few deep breaths before replying. The room stopped shaking, and Daisy managed to keep her tone level.
“I had no choice.”
“What is this… being?”
“Classified.” Carter’s nostrils flared, but Daisy refused to tell the deputy director of SHIELD about Inhumans. There was no way that could end well for anyone involved. “It can kill humans instantly, and mind-control some types of Enhanced. He tried to wipe out entire continents in 2016.”
“Tried. So you had a way to stop him without this fiasco.” Daisy’s fingernails dug into her palms, and May’s hand on her shoulder tightened. Lincoln had died to kill Hive. She wouldn’t let someone else make that sacrifice. Losing him, having him die for her, had been too much to handle, it was soul-crushing, pure despair, the grief had nearly killed her. That grief was all flooding back now, the guilt, the shame, the pain… Daisy blinked back tears, and saw to her surprise that Carter, Dugan, and even Sousa were doing the same. She turned to May, whose jaw was set in the way that it always was when someone talked about Andrew. It hadn’t all been her grief she was feeling, May was projecting her own emotions. She didn’t know she could do that. Neat. Or, in this case, fucking awful.
“Mom?”
“I- I’m sorry. One second.” Some of the crushing weight abated, and Daisy was left with just one person’s worth of grief instead of two. Carter wiped away her tears, and the two men just stared at May in shock. “I’m an empath. I didn’t realize it went both ways. I’m sorry.”
“Who did you lose to that being, Agent May?” The compassion in her voice was startling, after the cold anger she’d had just a moment before.
“My ex-husband. It’s a long story.”
“So you destroyed it to avenge your father, Agent Johnson?”
“Andrew wasn’t my father, but he was a good man. No, I lost someone too. Lincoln, my boyfriend, he- he died to kill that thing. We call it Hive. He took a nuke into space and blew the both of them up. It should’ve been me, it was supposed to be, but he took my place. So I’m sorry if I’m taking a very rare chance to correct my mistakes. Travelling to the past doesn’t exactly happen every day.” Daisy blinked once she realized what she’d said. She hadn’t meant to be anywhere near that frank. Something about May’s empathy must have made her much more open than she’d intended to be, and now the entire room was looking at her with… pity. Except for Sousa, who looked to be more understanding than pitiful, like something had just clicked for him. That was a relief at least. God, pity was the fucking worst. Anything but pity. She’d just spilled her guts to a bunch of people she’d barely met. Why the fuck had she done that?
Carter took a deep breath, probably getting the last of May’s emotions out of her head.
“I see. That’s- a unique circumstance. And a dangerous enemy. Is there anything else you’re hiding? Billions of lives you can save? Perhaps next time you can consult with me before you throw weeks of caution and planning out the window.” Daisy swallowed. That was fair. She and May exchanged a look, both wondering how much to share. Well… there was one thing that couldn’t change the future too much, which no one had any control over. It was all up to the currents and ice floes.
“Captain America is alive. He’s frozen in ice, won’t get found until 2012 or so. He won’t surface until then, so looking won’t do you any good. Not much else I can say without the chance of you taking things into your own hands.” Carter and Dugan both looked like they’d been punched in the gut, and Sousa looked like he’d swallowed a lemon. May chose that moment to helpfully chime in.
“So is Sergeant Barnes. HYDRA’s got him brainwashed, he survived that fall thanks to the Serum that Zola tested on him. They call him the Winter Soldier now. SHIELD only just found out about him in 2014, and I have no idea how to deprogram him.” Sousa’s knuckles went white on his cane, Dugan had to lean on a chair before flopping into it. The Brit’s voice was small, weaker than Daisy could have expected, and she knew that this time the tears she was blinking back were entirely her own.
“Daniel?”
“I didn’t know. They didn’t tell me.”
“So you both just… hid this. Knowing exactly what it meant. You’ve taken it upon yourselves to decide what to change and what to leave as it is, based on who you’ve lost, without caring about what the rest of us might wish to change. How dare you? What gives you the right ?”
May stepped forward, placing a hand on Daisy’s arm before she could reply. She somehow managed to hold eye contact with the incredibly angry Carter.
“We know how things play out, in the normal timeline. We’ve seen the consequences of the decisions you make, and suffered for them.
We haven’t told you everything, not just for our own safety, but because we have no idea what you’ll try to change. How you might try to double down where SHIELD failed in the future, not because you didn’t put in enough effort but because you never should have. You’re a hero, Agent Carter. All three of you are. You were among the best, brightest, and most loyal agents SHIELD ever had. You’re good people. You mean well. But it’s not enough to mean well, and it’s not enough that you three are decent. Too many people in SHIELD and the government would do terrible things with what we know. We’ve messed with time before, we know better than anyone how to keep it under control. That’s not saying much, but it’s the best you’ve got.
“Daisy and I are here to help you get rid of HYDRA, because the world will be a better place without them around. But I know just how many mistakes SHIELD has made. I’ve done awful things for SHIELD, and I’ll never know how much of it was done on HYDRA’s orders and how much of it was done for loyal SHIELD agents with bad intentions. Whatever you can know, I’ll tell you. I’ll even give our plane over to Stark, let him tinker with it. We’ve got cloaking technology, advanced flight systems and computers, non-lethal guns. We’ll jump some of your technology forward fifty years in a day. But not lethal weapons.
“We said we’d root out HYDRA, and we will. If we can save Barnes we’ll do that too, but I didn’t see the point of telling you information that you wouldn’t be able to act on. Besides, like you said, we’ve pulled off more with one heist than you have in ten years. Sousa here’s the only one who even suspected HYDRA was still around. They pulled the wool over your eyes, so forgive me for giving you directions after we’ve yanked it off. And you’re more than capable of spinning this to keep Malick aboveground. But we’ll stay under the radar, pretend to be regular agents, and bury what we know.”
Daisy didn’t think she’d ever heard May speak that much, or with so much emotion. Everyone else seemed just as blindsided as she did. Sousa spoke, still looking and sounding nauseous.
“For what it’s worth, Peggy, they’ve told me a bit more. Didn’t give them much choice after I saved my life. Daisy did the right thing in destroying the Monolith. They saved my life, and the intel we’ve gathered is priceless. They’re loyal to SHIELD. If a bit of secrecy is the price for their continued help, we should pay it.” Dugan nodded his agreement, though he looked to still be in shock.
“I say we make saving Bucky a priority. And give the dames what they need, with some conditions. Howard’ll love his new toys, and if we keep them hidden from HYDRA we’ll have a huge advantage.”
“Conditions?? That’s certainly one way of putting it.” Daisy was starting to understand why cartoons showed angry people with steam coming out their ears. May, however, looked hopeful and determined. Were those her emotions, or Peggy’s? “No more six-person team. None of you have nearly enough self control. I’m sending Rose over to keep the lot of you in line, plus a few others. She’s smarter than all of us put together. I’ll spin this how I can. Talk to Howard, give him your tech by the end of the month. Ask him about Zola too, he knows the scumbag better than me. Daniel, I want regular reports. Copies of everything you found at Malick’s, and the artifacts you recovered will be placed under a proper guard. You four are idiots, and the two of you in particular-” she pointed at May and Daisy, “are reckless, arrogant, and dangerous. But you’re right. We failed, badly. You’ve succeeded in your time, and done so here so far. You’ll have a much shorter leash, but the authority you need to keep up the mostly-good work. Don’t fuck this up, Daniel. I’ll be back soon. And do say hello to Mr. Jarvis for me, will you? It’s been too long. Now… any other terrible ideas that’ll bring in this sort of intel a second time?”
Carter tapped a finger on the stolen file on her desk while she waited for someone to have a stroke of genius. Hmm… what other dangerous people were out there now, aside from Hive? Daisy found herself getting a truly terrible idea.
“Werner Reinhardt. Let me interrogate him here. And give us the original 084. Just having it in our possession will make him do whatever we want, it’s the perfect bargaining chip.”
“You’re asking me for one of the most dangerous men alive and one of the most dangerous objects on the planet, so you can store them in your basement!”
“Technically, it’s your basement, but yes. Reinhardt wants knowledge of Item 084 more than anything else, and I’ve got it. Plus, I’m the only agent you’ve got who can handle it safely, or even knows what it is. It’s safest here.”
“You saw what we’ve learned from just a few boxes of files, Peggy. Imagine what we could get from up to date information from this guy. He’s scum, and nobody trusts him, but he’s useful.” Daniel kept defending her and May, above even the suggestions of his old partner. It was a pleasant surprise.
“Fine, why not. They’re both rotting away anyways, and if you get yourselves killed with that thing I’ll be free of your… lunacy. But both will be accompanied by heavy guard. No more impunity, for any of you.”
It was a fair deal. Carter was as formidable as she’d always heard. Her mother and her idol shook hands, and Daisy prepared herself to meet a man who she still had nightmares about.
August 18, 1955
Getting into the Rat was easy enough. A prisoner transfer order signed by Agent Carter and Director Phillips, with Friedman flashing his badge and Daisy showing her ‘Louise Wen’ SHIELD ID, was all it took. Daisy and her companion were led past countless cells to a meeting room. The bored-looking guard pulled open the heavy door, standing aside to let the two agents enter. Daisy nodded her thanks, finding Reinhardt already waiting for her, sitting at the table with his hands folded in front of him. Other guards must have brought him over. He was wearing that small, smug smile and round glasses she remembered from the brief moments they’d interacted in her time, and he immediately started analyzing the both of them as soon as they stepped inside. He may be a vicious piece of shit, but he was incredibly smart. Reinhardt would not be easy to manipulate. He waited to speak until Daisy took the chair across from him, Yossi remaining standing to her right.
“Ah, SHIELD has come for me at last. Have you finally realized that my knowledge is too vital to allow it to go to waste? I hear the world is becoming a more dangerous place for SHIELD operatives. What happened to Chief Sousa in Los Angeles was… tragic, and so easily avoidable with the discoveries we could make together.”
“I’m not really in the mood for the whole pompous Nazi routine, so let’s make this simple. I can touch the Obelisk. I know what it is, where it comes from, how it works, and I even know why the woman you found ten years ago survived it. She and I come from the same village. I’ll give you all the knowledge your crazy ass could want, and all I want in return is for you to tell me the extent of HYDRA’s infiltrations- and I know the organization is much older than Schmidt. The more detail you give, the more detail I give. You lie to me, I get payback for all the relatives of mine you slaughtered. You lead me into a trap, or try to sabotage me, he gets payback for all the relatives of his you slaughtered.”
Yossi waved with his left arm, purposefully showing the tattoo on it clearly. Reinhardt’s eyes gleamed with recognition, and he offered a tight, mirthless smile. He had yet to lose his German accent, and it made him much easier to see the Nazi General he was. It was fucking terrifying, though Daisy would never admit it. He’d scared her shitless when he’d forced her to pick up the Diviner, and calmly described butchering Jiaying and planning to do the same to her. She could only imagine how his victim must feel.
“Prisoner 164729. It is good to see you again. How have you been?”
Yossi’s lips curled into a snarl, and before Daisy could move he’d smashed the Nazi’s head against the table. Daisy had to admit she was happy to hear the telltale crack of a shattered nose. She half-glared at her colleague, but her heart wasn’t in it. She would've done the same if he hadn’t beat her to it. Yossi just smiled at her in response, and kicked Reinhardt’s chair out from under him. The slimy bastard had the nerve to start laughing, and adjusted the glasses on his blood-covered face.
“Your point is made, my friend. I must admit my curiosity, both about the information you offer and about the two of you. But discovery requires experimentation.” Both Daisy and Yossi flinched visibly at those words, but the living shitstain was still picking himself off the floor and didn’t notice. She didn’t think she could ever forget the first time she heard those words: tied to a chair, with Cal half-dead on the floor before her. “I wish to see you hold the Obelisk. Then I will tell you what you wish to know, in exchange for parole. And the information, of course, as agreed upon.”
“If your information leads to the capture or death of every head of HYDRA, your sentence will be commuted. Until then, we’re putting you in an even shittier prison under our supervision.”
Reinhardt stood, wiped off his glasses and extended a bloody hand for Daisy to shake.
“I believe we have a deal.” She scoffed and nodded to Yossi, who slapped a handcuff onto his extended wrist, tightening it far more than was necessary.
“Don’t push your luck, doc.” Yossi gleefully tightened the handcuff onto his other arm. They half-led, half-dragged the man who’d cut her mother to pieces out of the Rat. She was making a deal with the devil, the same exact thing Cal had done. She hoped it turned out better for her than it had for him.
-
Wener Reinhardt had to admit, he was intrigued. This was the most exciting thing to happen to him since Carter had locked him away. He’d been told by one of the HYDRA-loyal guards that she’d signed his transfer order, which meant something big had changed. The mysterious woman’s comment had indicated that she knew of HYDRA’s survival, or maybe she was just guessing. Either way, he could work with this. His nose being broken was worth such an interesting turn of events. He’d give her enough crumbs to further both of their goals- Malick’s branch of HYDRA could be sacrificed. Those fools were still too busy clinging to the old ways- the Monolith, the HYDRA god, their arcane human sacrifices. They were deadweight, in the long run. Expendable. Even Zola could be disposed of- that rat had been the first HYDRA official to sell out to the thrice-damned Allies, and although Reinhardt himself had tried to get a deal, that was only after his defeat. He would’ve just used SHIELD to get the information he needed, to build his weapon, while rebuilding HYDRA within it. Zola had made their defeat possible, ratting them out to Phillips and then trying to make up for it after the fact. There were others who were both aligned with Reinhardt’s goals and actually trustworthy, assets who he was less willing to sacrifice. Those, he would preserve. Zola’s branch of sleepers may have some worthwhile fruits, however, even if the putrid little Swissman was rotten. Once he had unlocked the Obelisk’s secrets, only those who were beneficial to his plans would be left alive. HYDRA, the real HYDRA, would rise from the ashes. The Red Skull’s dream would be fulfilled.
This woman, who the man he’d once experimented on obeyed so readily, had locked him away in here. He’d been blindfolded, but he could tell this wasn’t supposed to be a prison. It had felt more like a base, too quiet, too clean-smelling. He was likely just locked in the basement. Closer to the mysterious woman, and the man. He never did learn his name, not that Reinhardt ever cared. He’d only ever thought of him as a number, or sometimes as the ‘Jewish one’ amongst the handful of survivors of his attempt at a Serum- though his guard had told him their names were Wen and Friedman. It still annoyed him that Zola had succeeded where he had failed, that the Winter Soldier was now HYDRA’s greatest warrior. If the woman could touch the Obelisk, she was invaluable. She was the secret to unlocking the power of weapon that the ‘blue angels’ had left behind. And if she was from the same small Chinese village as the woman who he’d had locked up in Austria, maybe this newcomer could lead her to the other. The woman in Austria was a curiosity, one he’d planned to cut open to find out what allowed her to survive the Obelisk. He had then planned to transfer that ability to himself, using methods he’d only developed in theory before. If he could recreate immunity to the Obelisk, then he could wield it at will, replicate it into a weapon far more potent than anything that even the Red Skull’s Tesseract could have produced. One survivor was a mere data point. Two was the start of a pattern. They were both Chinese, both from the same village, both female- although others from the village, others from China, and other women had survived. No, he would have to discover what made Agent Wen tick as well. And discovery, as he well knew, required experimentation. Once he had used SHIELD to prune the branches of HYDRA, and learned all he needed to about the Obelisk, he would arrange for his escape- he could figure out the how later- and both Agent Wen and the Hunanese woman would end up under his knife.
While he mused on the best course of action, he waited in his new cell. It was more comfortable than the last, although he could admit that it had started to feel like home, in an odd sense. Perhaps it was more accurate to say he’d gotten used to it. Hopefully he wouldn’t be here long enough to get used to this too. He missed the rivers and forests of his home in Arnsberg, but if this woman had what she claimed to, none of it mattered. The door of his new cell swung open, and Agent Wen herself walked in, carrying a box he recognized: SSR Item 084. He smiled at her, and she shot him a deadly glare. She had spirit, he could respect that.
“So. What should I call you? Agent Wen, perhaps?”
“You can refer to me as ma’am, or not at all. I don’t particularly care. Here’s how this meeting will go. I’ll hold this, and I’ll survive. Then, you’ll tell me everything you know about Wilfred Malick. We know he’s loyal to HYDRA, and crucial to building its presence in SHIELD. Then, I’ll tell you a bit about what you call the Obelisk, and you’ll tell me about your old colleague, Dr. Arnim Zola. We know about him too. I’ll go check out what you’ve said, and if I’m satisfied, we’ll talk more.” She was predictable, this one. And it was all too easy to give her what she wanted, in this circumstance. She was playing right into his hands from the start. He’d just have to find a way to get a message out from this place.
“That is an acceptable arrangement. I would very much like to see this.”
“But you’ve seen it before, haven’t you? Austria, 1945.”
“I have, on your countrywoman. Or relative, perhaps, from how you spoke of her.” A muscle in her cheek twitched, and he knew he’d guessed correctly. A sister, maybe. They were likely of an age. Wen opened the box, which he’d remembered being welded shut, seemingly effortlessly. Fascinating. She turned it around to face him, and he longed to lean forward in awe at the perfect, gleaming metal of the Obelisk. He wanted to understand it, to harness it, to use it to better humanity and ensure HYDRA’s reign. He wanted it more than he’d ever wanted anything. But he was no mewling child, like this pathetic girl in front of him. He was an officer of HYDRA. Heir to a five-thousand-year old secret empire. He could control his reactions. The woman watched him carefully as she reached into the box, utterly confident in her ability to survive it. She brushed a finger across the Obelisk’s surface, and it lit up, as he had seen only once before. Symbols and lines raised from the surface, glowing like fire on the suddenly gunmetal-grey surface of the Obelisk. She held it for a moment, then set it back in the box, shutting it again. It pained him to see the wonder being hidden away once again. But she claimed to know more than he did, and if her survival was any indication, she was likely telling the truth.
“Malick. Now.”
“Wilfred Malick comes from a very old HYDRA family. His father lost everything in the stock market crash, and killed himself, destroying the family’s wealth. Malick gave HYDRA the last component we needed for the Super Soldier Serum that Herr Schmidt took, and for that we restored his family’s wealth. He used his position at a bar that became an SSR asset to join the SSR itself, and rose through the ranks of both it and later SHIELD. He’s now the head of defense. We keep in touch, he’s a fool in many ways, but a useful one. Though you knew all this already, you would not have asked about him otherwise, and you would be taking notes.” She inclined her head in acknowledgement, and gestured for him to continue. “He’s been building up HYDRA within SHIELD ever since he joined. Part of it is elevating his friends and allies to strategic roles, part of it is creating new assets. His blackmail operation is the best there is, and he’s an expert at finding those who are ambitious enough to sign on with HYDRA despite feigning loyalty to SHIELD.” He left out the Malicks’ worship of the HYDRA god. That was information she did not need to know, and discussing it would show more of his intentions than he wanted to. Luckily, she seemed satisfied so far.
“Any names?” He gave her a few that he was willing to, assets of Malick’s who were as idiotic as he. These, she wrote down. New information, then.
“I believe you promised me information on the Obelisk. I know some of the stories behind it already, but I am curious what other knowledge you claim to possess.”
“Let’s start with what you do know.”
“There are stories from the East, your homeland, of blue angels who fell from the heavens, bearing gifts for mankind. The stories say these angels sought to save the world, although the truth is that they wanted to conquer it. This weapon is likely how they planned to do so. The Obelisk was uncovered in Portugal in 1945 by a group of villagers from the Hunan province- members of your village. They knew where to look, though I never found out how. My own expedition found several other… interesting things at the site, and took the Obelisk from them.” The woman smirked at him. She had the audacity to look at him like he was a petulant child? “Is something funny?”
“You’re wrong about… so many things. I would like to know what else you found there first, however.”
He leaned forward, and he was unsurprised to see Wen flinch when he did so. She was terrified of him, although she hid it well. Good. She was right to be terrified.
“We found the corpse of one of the blue angels themselves. It had tattoos identical to the symbols on the Obelisk when the Survivor touched it.” Wen’s eyes went wide in- was that understanding? Realization? What pieces had she just put together? He had been itching to discuss and share the ancient secrets he’d uncovered for a decade, it was wonderful to finally do so, although as always he was itching to learn more.
“The Obelisk is actually called the Diviner. It’s not a weapon, it’s more of a key. It just happens to kill anybody who isn’t allowed to use it.”
“And what does this key open? Who is allowed to use it?”
Her eyes hardened, and she leaned towards him as well, matching his posture. Their faces were inches apart, but there was nothing remotely romantic about this, it was a test to see who backed down first. A game of chicken, the Americans would say. The table started to shake slightly under his arms, though Wen did not seem to be bouncing a leg. What was causing this?
“Not you. You will never have the gene that you need in order to use it. You will never be one of us, never receive a gift. Because that's what it does. You HYDRA people are all the same, you see something and try to use it to kill people. The Diviner is the start of something beautiful, and the fact that it hurts people who aren’t meant to get a gift is because its creators were even crueler than you. You’re so shortsighted you only want to use it as a weapon. It’s a perversion. A stain on humanity.” The table shook more, then stopped, and Reinhardt understood. She had been very literal when referring to the ‘gifts’ the Diviner gave out, and she had much more to hide than some trivia. But something about him drove her to anger, to losing control. He wanted to learn what, though he suspected it was the fact he’d killed people from her home. Maybe a husband, sibling, or parent had been among them- though he suspected the former, as a sibling or parent would likely share her gifts. He was going to get all the information he could from her on the Obelisk- no, Diviner, so that when he drained her blood and removed her organs, he too would be able to make the ground shake. Once he’d done that, then he could weaponize the Diviner, and make the world into what it should be. And he would be the one to rule it, he would wield the Obelisk and shake the earth, pulverizing or petrifying his enemies- and there were many- at will.
When the agent asked him about Zola, he answered freely, and relatively honestly. He was even more useless now. After she left the cell, and took the Diviner with her, he allowed himself a smile before he got to work, planning for the future. Sending a message from here would not be easy, but he would get it done. HYDRA depended on it.
-
Daniel was relaxing in a surprisingly comfortable chair, waiting with Peggy and May for Daisy’s interrogation to finish. He knew two guards were waiting outside the door, vetted by May’s powers. Despite the comfort of his surroundings, he was worried. Daisy was beyond capable, but he’d seen the tapes of Reinhardt’s experiments. That man was a monster . If his leg didn’t hurt so fucking much from overexerting himself the past few days, he’d be in there with her. She shouldn’t have to face such a horrible person alone, especially with an object like that.
Daisy slipped into the room, somehow the picture of grace and elegance despite holding a metal box under her arm, with a notepad in the other. She was breathtaking, literally, but he had other priorities at the moment. She’d already done so much for him- saving his life, making him realize that he wasn’t broken or sick for feeling how he did about both men and women (though just one woman at the moment), and being instrumental in gathering intel on HYDRA. He wasn’t going to ask her out- he’d let her make the first move, if she wanted to. She was already trapped in the past, he didn’t want to back her into a further corner by putting her in an awkward position if she didn’t want to say yes. Besides, she’d already lost one boyfriend. Lincoln had died to save her life. That must be hard to recover from, she probably wasn’t even ready for a relationship. He didn’t mind, though. He’d done a pretty shitty job handling relationships on his own, maybe it was better to let her take the reins. She was too good, too compassionate, too caring to risk hurting. He’d never hurt her, not on purpose, but the circumstances were difficult to say the least.
Daniel stopped bouncing his leg when Daisy set the incredibly dangerous item down on a table as casually as if it were a pizza box, slapping her notepad down next to it. Only then did he realize that the room was shaking, it wasn’t just his leg. Impressive, although worrying. May looked up at her pseudo-daughter from her own comfortable chair.
“Everything alright?”
“Mostly. He gave up a lot of useful intel. Turns out he was the one who dug our friend the Guest Host out of the ground. He lied about some things, and definitely wants to cut me to pieces, but his heartbeat was mostly steady.”
“Wait, cut you to pieces?” Did he hear that correctly? His head was spinning, there was no way that was going to happen. Daisy would probably turn Reinhardt into paste if he tried. But that particular phrasing sounded familiar… “Your birth mother. You said HYDRA killed her, and drained her fluids. In the videos, Reinhardt wanted to prep the woman who survived the Obelisk for surgery, and that he found some way to lengthen his life. Was she-”
“Yes, Sousa. She was my mother. And she can live an unnaturally long time.” Peggy, ever adaptable, somehow took that in stride.
“The woman we rescued in Austria? Was your birth mother? When were you born? And isn’t Agent May here your mum?”
“July 2, 1988. Like I said, she can live a long time. No idea how old she really is. Jiaying gave birth to me but she wasn’t exactly a stellar parent.” Daniel made a mental note of that. He’d have to get her a birthday present next year, assuming she was still around then.
“I know when not to pry. What did you learn, Agent Johnson? Am I going to regret giving you this prisoner?”
“He confirmed everything I knew about Malick, I only asked about that to find out if he’d lie to me. He gave up a few names, all truth, but definitely not the full extent. Worth looking into. And he gave up a lot on Zola- all stuff we should run by Stark, when we talk to him. Definitely productive so far.” Daisy passed the notepad over to Peggy, who flipped through it, an approving smirk on her face. Daisy had spoken to the man who butchered her mother? Volunteered to do it? And walked away with actual intelligence, after handling an object no one could survive contact with. After getting stuck in the past, she immediately threw herself into saving as many lives as possible, and making up for any mistakes she’d made in the past. Impressive didn’t begin to cover it. He was so far beyond screwed.
“Good work, Agent Johnson. Now if you two don’t mind, I’d like to talk to Chief Sousa alone for a moment.”
Daisy and May both obeyed the dismissal, though Daisy shot Daniel a worried look. He tried to look reassuring, and she was content enough with it to leave. As soon as the door closed, her too-familiar eyes met his, and there wasn’t a trace of warmth in them. He’d seen that look before, and it made his blood run cold.
“She’s a good agent, Daniel. I wish you the best of luck. Don’t mess this up.” She left him alone then, to mull over his inconvenient feelings.
Notes:
Kudos and comments make me happy :)
Chapter Text
August 30, 1955
Daisy was late, and May was annoyed about it. A completely normal thought that had gone through her head a thousand times, but at that moment, May couldn’t be more grateful for that simple statement. Grateful! Another emotion she was able to feel again. After a few weeks of having her empathic abilities, not only had she become able to sense emotions from a distance, without needing physical contact, but she’d been able to feel her own emotions again, and even project her own onto others. The brutal irony of being unable to feel at all was that she hadn’t been able to be terrified about it. Now, retroactively, she was scared shitless, but thankfully her time as an unfeeling robot was over. Having no control over her own motivations, relying entirely on what others felt to drive her, was incredibly fucked up. She was lucky nobody had taken advantage of that, not that any of the people she’d surrounded herself with would have. Still, it was a relief to have control of her own head again. And if nothing else, T-1000 May had made one excellent decision. She’d said aloud what May had known in her bones for years, what had been so true to her that it surpassed emotions, that she could parse it from Daisy’s agony and terror and satisfaction and relief bleeding into her and state it as the fact it was: Daisy Johnson was like a daughter to her. When Cal and Coulson had sparred over who got to be Daisy’s father figure, she’d scolded him for acting like her dad, then gone on to functionally do the same thing with Jiaying. She’d trained her, taught her how to defend herself from the Wards of the world, grieved her departure from SHIELD and time under Hive, worried for her during her vigilante days. At the Temple, just before she briefly died and lost the ability to feel, Daisy had cradled her in her arms while May bled out, and somehow that ending had felt right. If she was going to die, that was how, even if it had been a demon with Coulson’s face that had plunged a sword into her guts.
It had taken stripping away her own emotions, her apprehensions and fears of overstepping and regret over Bahrain and what could have been to finally admit it. May was glad she had. Daisy deserved to know, she could feel the warmth and gratitude from her daughter during their morning routine: Tai Chi, Mandarin lessons, sparring. The bond between them hadn’t changed or been broken, only deepened with the admission. Thank god for Enoch’s fake IDs finally being the push she’d needed. Now, however, that routine had been interrupted. It was 5:04, the two of them and Sousa had to leave for LA in a few hours, and Daisy wasn’t in the training room. May sighed in exasperation (another emotion she could feel again!) and half-jogged to Daisy’s bunk. When she knocked twice and received no response, she started to worry. Hopefully Daisy would forgive the intrusion on her privacy. May turned the knob, and was more surprised than she should’ve been to find the bed empty and unmade, the lights off. If she wasn’t with May and wasn’t asleep, where the hell had she gone?
It took ten minutes to answer her question. Daisy was curled up on the couch of the common room, a stack of files neatly arranged on the table in front of her, a blanket draped over her sleeping form, and a throw pillow under her head. There was even a glass of water on the table next to the files. Daisy would never have organized the papers just to fall asleep on the couch, someone had made sure she was comfortable after she’d passed out from overexertion, and she had a suspicion of who it was. Even without empathic powers, the feelings between Sousa and Daisy were obvious. She’d done her best to prod them along, but so far without much success. May had learned the hard way, three times over, the foolishness of putting off a relationship with someone you cared about, claiming the timing wasn't right. She’d do anything now to get a few more stolen moments with Andrew or Phil, to not have delayed unnecessarily because of circumstances she’d never be able to control. She could sense that’s what Daisy had been doing, and didn’t want to see her own mistakes repeated. Her fear, comfort, attraction, and heartbreak had all been knotted together, while Sousa’s own devotion and admiration had been much clearer. Daisy was terrified of falling for him just to have to leave, so she was holding herself back. Sousa was too kind to push when he didn’t think he was wanted. It drove May fucking insane. She wanted to knock their heads together and yell at the two idiotic kids, tell them they weren’t fooling anybody, and they should take advantage of the time they had while they were lucky enough to have it. But May knew her daughter, and knew that wouldn't work, Daisy would have to come to that realization on her own, or she’d never accept it. She just hoped it was sooner rather than later. There was no telling how much or how little time they’d have together, it could be a day or the rest of their lives. Best not to waste it.
She was tempted to wake Daisy up, to scold her for sleeping in and get her started, but there was no point. She’d been working herself to the bone for… well, for six years. She’d thrown herself into 1950s-style spy/detective/superhero work with the same stubbornness that she did everything else, and had a remarkable amount of success to show for it. But Daisy had always kept herself busy with work to avoid thinking about her problems too deeply- not that she’d ever admit it. Since joining SHIELD there’d been no shortage of world-ending events to throw herself into staving off. Even Daisy might just take a vacation if she spent more than another month in the 50s. Her daughter deserved one morning to sleep in a bit, a few more hours of rest, since she’d been running on fumes for weeks. Besides, the flight would take a few hours, most of them on autopilot. Their morning routine would work just as well on the Quinjet as on the Playground. Without even realizing she did it, May brushed some hair out of her daughter’s closed eyes, and smiled softly at the tiny huff Daisy let out in her sleep. She left to go prep the Quinjet for launch, since she had a few hours to kill. She’d wake Daisy if she wasn’t up by 8:30.
May stripped the plane of its weapons first. She was no Mack when it came to maintaining and repairing a Quinjet, all she knew were the absolute basics, but handing missiles and guns from the future over to a man named Stark would’ve been a terrible idea. Maintenance and cargo checks were next: the ICERs and Daisy’s ‘Quake Suit’ were onboard. Stark was supposed to try to replicate the both of them: capture-not-kill was the new order of business for dealing with HYDRA, the more people they brought in the more intel they could get. And as much as Daisy hated the damn things, May knew she needed them. Without her gauntlets, she’d shatter her arms eventually, and the rapid bone healing pills that SHIELD had developed didn’t exist yet. She’d be left completely unable to fight for weeks at a time if she wasn’t careful, not to mention in excruciating pain. May would ground her if she had to, there was no way she’d let her shatter her bones for no good reason.
Halfway into her preflight checks, she heard a pair of footsteps approaching the jet, with a gait she’d recognize anywhere. A glance at her watch showed it was 8:20- Daisy had good timing.
“You’re late.” May managed to keep the amusement out of her voice, but it was a near thing.
“Whatever, mom.” Even after a few weeks here with her emotions back, May still got all warm and fuzzy whenever Daisy called her that. It was mortifying, especially with that absolutely intentional whine of Millennial petulance in her voice. She still refused to dignify that with a response, staying silent. It felt almost painfully reminiscent of their BUS days for Daisy to slide into the co-pilot’s seat, watching May run through the pre-flight routine. May felt her curiosity, and started to walk her through the process, picking up on the silent gratitude that followed. It would be good to have another trained pilot on the team, even if she had a feeling Daisy’s piloting would scare her shitless. Maybe teaching her should wait.
“Can you secure the cargo, Daisy? We’ll be taking off once Sousa gets here.”
“On it.”
Just a couple minutes later, May heard the three-part sound of Sousa’s gait, and closed the ramp once she heard the sound of a flight seat being folded down.
“Hey, how’d you sleep?” Sousa’s voice, laced with the worry and care she felt from him. She’d been right, it had been him who’d made Daisy more comfortable. She felt attraction from him too, but not nearly as much lust as she would’ve expected from a man of the 1950s, or any time period. It was much closer to admiration and awe than desire.
“Why do you care?” Her voice was lowered, trying to stop May from hearing, but passengers never did give their pilots enough credit. It was much easier to hear conversations in the back from the pilot’s seat than Daisy seemed to think. From Daisy, May felt genuine confusion. She knew he had feelings for her, knew she felt the same, but couldn’t fathom someone treating her the way Sousa had, regardless. May felt a twinge of pain from her own mind, remembering how badly Daisy had been mistreated over the years by so many people. If Sousa ended up doing the same, she’d kill him.
“Because you don’t.” Sousa’s emotions distilled into one: sincerity. He wanted Daisy to know that he meant exactly what he said, and how obvious it seemed to him that she should care, but she didn’t, so he’d do it for her, if she’d let him.
“Thanks for what you did last night. The blanket and pillow. I… I appreciate it.” She felt the awkwardness, the gratitude, the attraction, and the confusion behind Daisy’s reply. She had no idea what to say, or how to say it, and was determined to act like she didn’t feel how she clearly did.
“Of course.”
It really was as simple as that for him, wasn’t it. May really hoped these two got their heads out of their asses quickly, because this was becoming almost painful for her to watch. Had she ever been that difficult? Refusing to take the hand that was being so clearly offered to her, just out of sheer stubbornness and willpower? An inability to accept a shoulder to lean on? She knew, of course, that the answer was yes. Mother and daughter had far more in common than either of them would like to admit. Hopefully, in this instance, Daisy wouldn’t repeat May’s mistakes.
“Mr. Stark, the SHIELD agents from the future and Chief Sousa have arrived, as Miss Carter said we should expect. Would you like me to prepare a meal?”
Howard Stark was starting to regret getting Jarvis security clearance. It made life easier to be sure, but the nonchalant, prim and proper Britishness of the phrase ‘SHIELD agents from the future’ was disorienting to say the least. In the month since he’d been informed in quick succession that Helius almost exploded, Sousa was killed delivering his gadget, and then that Sousa was alive, SHIELD was infiltrated by HYDRA, and time travelers were responsible for saving his life and the intel as well, his life had been turned upside down. He’d thought the war was behind him, but it had just moved closer to home. He’d had to quietly scramble to root out moles in SHIELD’s science division and Stark Industries, with a terrifying amount of success. In addition to all the intel Peggy had fed him by way of Sousa, he’d nearly shit himself when he started to untangle the web of HYDRA assets under his supervision, much of it centered around that fucker Zola. He’d been a fool to let his guard down for even a moment around the Nazi bastard, to allow himself to buy the reformed act he’d put up. To think he’d been serving anything other than his own interests. The list of people he trusted had never been long, now it had dropped considerably. The Jarvises, Peggy, Phillips after he’d had coffee, Thompson and Wilkes depending on the day, and Sousa. He knew the somehow-not-dead agent didn’t much like him, but Howard had always thought of him as a friend. It had been a huge relief to learn he was alive. He was an uptight square, but he was a skilled agent, and this intel he and his team has been providing was incredible. What worried him was how much there must be left to uncover if he’d managed to dig up all this in just a month. And how many SHIELD projects that were supposed to be for a good cause had actually been for the sake of HYDRA’s world domination.
“It’s alright, Jarvis. Just send them in.”
Howard set aside his most recent stack of Hercules files- funny to name the op after the guy who killed the mythical hydra- and tried not to get too overwhelmed by the scope of the infiltration that had been uncovered in a few short weeks. Whoever these future-SHIELD agents were, and Peggy had of course provided zero details, they were good. He’d have to ask Dugan for the stories behind the intel, that man understood what made life worth living. But if Peggy’s latest report to him and Phillips was to be believed, if these agents were telling the truth, they weren’t just bringing intel. Even bringing in the bombshell news just days earlier that both Steve and Bucky Barnes were alive would’ve been enough for Howard to kiss the agents, but now they were bringing him advanced technology. SHIELD tech from the 21st century. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on the stuff. Some of it was probably derived from that new device Sousa had delivered him, made by Lindmore from recovered alien tech. It was already set to revolutionize SHIELD's technology, maybe it could continue to have an impact years down the line. He’d given a lot of thought to his legacy, but now he would be confronted with it, face to face. That scared him, and what scared him even more was he wasn’t sure why.
Before he could get too deep into self-pity, Jarvis reappeared (it really was uncanny how quietly he could move), this time with company. Sousa limped into the room first, followed closely by two absolutely gorgeous women. Peggy had neglected to mention that part, damn her. They were both dressed in stylish civilian clothes, but no one with the slightest bit of military or espionage experience would mistake them for civilians. They carried themselves like agents, like soldiers, fanning out with a graceful confidence and practiced air that showed they were no strangers to combat, or to working as a team. How either of them could possibly blend into a crowd, however, Howard had no idea. They really were stunning. He managed to tear his eyes off of the tanner of the two agents long enough to give Sousa a once-over. He couldn't keep the smile off his face, so he hid it by getting up from his desk and hugging the miraculously-alive agent. He looked good for dead- his hair was a bit longer, and he didn’t look like he’d been getting much sleep, but that was to be expected for being on the run. He just hoped Sousa hadn’t learned how much Howard had been singing his praises in the 48 or so hours when he’d believed Sousa dead while on a mission for him. The guilt had been crushing, another good agent dead because of him. He hadn’t even forgiven himself for getting the poor schmuck dosed with Midnight Oil yet. Learning he was alive had been a relief, but learning that he’d have to continue lauding Sousa to maintain his cover was painful. Hopefully it didn’t go to his head.
Sousa awkwardly accepted the hug, but quickly pushed Howard away.
“It’s good to see you too. Is Rose here yet?”
“I’m leaving in a moment to retrieve Agent Roberts. We should be back within the hour. My understanding is she is not cleared to learn your companions’ true origins?” Jarvis spoke from the doorway. Sousa gave a typically curt nod in response, but he offered a hand for the butler to shake. He took it gratefully. “What a pleasure to have you back, Chief Sousa. The news of your untimely demise was devastating.”
“Glad to hear I was missed, Jarvis. How’s Ana?”
“She’s alright. Unfortunately she still believes you to be dead, and is even painting a memorial portrait. It’s coming along beautifully.” One of the women snickered and lightly elbowed Sousa in the side. He didn’t even seem annoyed by it.
“Looks like you’ve got legions of adoring fans. Not bad for a secret agent.”
Yes, that’s right, he had female company. This was more his element than sentimental catch-ups. Howard gave the future-women (and Sousa) his most charming grin, and tried to hide his disappointment at getting no response from any of them except an impatient scowl from his friend. Sousa was too familiar with this routine, but Howard didn’t care. He extended a hand to the darker-haired woman, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles when she shook it. She still had absolutely no reaction beyond a mildly terrifying glare. Seriously?
“Howard Stark, pleasure to meet you.”
“Melinda May, but Mei Wen to those without clearance.”
He tried again on the younger woman, and was shocked to notice that her hand was ever so slightly slightly vibrating to the touch, even though she didn’t have a visible tremor. This wasn’t a Parkinson’s-style loss of motor control, it felt more like she had a beehive under her (flawless) skin. Equations and designs flew behind his eyes, a dozen possible devices and possibilities for how she could manage to run a low level vibration through her body like this without a device in her hand. It was fascinating, he’d never seen anything like it before.
“Lovely to meet you, miss, and you are?”
“Daisy Johnson, or ‘Louise Wen’, and absolutely not interested.”
She pulled her hand back before he could kiss it as well, and took a step towards Sousa, whose scowl had somehow deepened. She didn’t even seem to realize she’d moved, but he got the message. He was happy for his friend, he’d been single since things ended with Peggy. Howard couldn’t even imagine going nearly a decade without any romantic encounters, no wonder the Chief had a stick up his ass. Maybe now he’d finally loosen up a bit. Howard clapped his hands together excitedly, and looked between the three agents.
“I hear you brought me some new toys?”
“The ‘new toys’ are in the secondary garage, sir. Would you like Doctor Wilkes to join us for the examination?”
“Not yet, Jarvis, let me have some fun first. I’ll bring Wilkes in tomorrow.” To his credit, Sousa looked only mildly annoyed at the mention of his former romantic rival, though it was hard to tell, since ‘annoyed’ seemed to be his baseline around Howard. Some people just couldn’t appreciate good company. He babbled about absolutely nothing the entire way to the garage, a skill he’d developed long ago to fill awkward silences, which this certainly would be.
“Hey, Sousa, you sure you don’t want me to make you a new leg? It’ll work a lot better than that one. Might even let you run again. I owe you one for that gadget, it’s the least I can do.”
“Howard, I’d rather lose my other leg than let any of your ‘wearable technology’ near me again. Forgive me if watching Chief Dooley blow up soured me to your innovations.” Well. That was hard to argue with.
“I really am sorry about that unfortunate business with the Midnight Oil. That stuff was in the vault for a reason, it was defective! None of it ever should’ve been used! If I made you a leg, it would be top shelf, not from the trash heap!”
The clicking of Sousa’s cane stopped, and Howard turned around to see all three agents glaring at him. He’d never seen Sousa this angry, and the older of the two women- Melinda- looked just as pissed. The younger one, Daisy, put a hand on each of their arms, and both seemed to calm down somewhat. She spoke, trying to keep the situation calm.
“It seems like you understand the gravity of the situation here then, Mr. Stark.”
“Please, call me Howard.” She completely ignored him. He hated when she did that.
“There’s a lot of information and technology that’s far too dangerous for even the government, especially the government, to get its hands on. We are not giving you toys, and if Daniel doesn’t want a new leg from you, you shouldn’t push for that either. We are giving you incredibly advanced technology, even by 21st century standards, for a few very specific reasons.”
“I get it, no A-bombs for SHIELD.”
“If you start selling this shit, we’ll know, and trust me when I say you’ll regret it.”
The air seemed to vibrate around her, and a painting (a very well-done portrait of Howard, if he said so himself) fell off the wall. So that’s why she was buzzing. No wonder she was the one in charge, Daisy was definitely the most level-headed of the bunch. She’d even stopped the steam coming out of Sousa’s ears and replaced his scowl with a smirk. The other woman looked equally amused. Howard raised his hands in mock surrender.
“Your point is made, my friend. I see why Peggy and Sousa like you. You’re smart, you’re Enhanced, you’re clearly the one in charge. You good with science?” She raised an eyebrow, but answered anyway.
“High school dropout, so no. I’m a genius with computers though. I’ll help upgrade SHIELD’s systems, and show you how to work the computers we have with us.” Very impressive.
“If you ever get tired of SHIELD, I’ve got a job waiting for you at Stark Industries. Think about it. What did youse bring?” She blinked in surprise at the job offer, but stuck to what she’d come for.
“We have a jet that we need you to synthesize fuel for, learn to perform maintenance on from the handbook, and possibly reverse-engineer. It’s also got cloaking tech that needs replication. We’ve stripped it of its weapons. We’ve also brought non-lethal guns that fire a dendrotoxin round. We’re going to need lots of those, but be very careful- dendrotoxin can kill if you don’t keep it at the right dosages.” Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Cloaking? A working jet plane? This would be a huge breakthrough, it would be fascinating to get a look at, he could make billions- no. Daisy would probably kill him if he tried. Howard tried not to let his excitement or disappointment show, keeping his tone level and focusing on the least exciting part of that spiel.
“I know what dendrotoxin does.”
“The last thing is my suit. I’ll need it repaired on occasion. It’s designed to absorb vibrations so I don’t hurt myself with my powers- I’d appreciate a more discreet version too.”
Howard flashed his best showman’s smile and continued on his way to the garage. Even with the minor property damage and the very scary threat, this was going to be a fun day.
Notes:
Daisy was a good director. I will die on this hill.
Chapter Text
October 6, 1955
“This is it, fourth floor. Got everything?”
Daisy took one last look in the satchel slung over her shoulder: ICER, real gun, a half-dozen Stark Industries listening devices, pamphlets about Jesus.
“Yeah, we’re all set. Thanks, Rose.”
“I’ll be around the block. Good luck, you two.” Daisy nodded her acknowledgement and hopped out of the van, smiling her thanks at Rose. Daniel eased out of the other side, straightening his tie. In a dress shirt, slacks, and a tie, he looked exactly like the missionary they were claiming to be, since there was no other good reason to be in someone else’s apartment building at 10am on a Thursday. Sousa walked up to the door of Arnim Zola’s apartment building and pulled the door open, holding it open for Daisy.
“Our first clue that this guy was evil should’ve been that he chose to live in Hoboken”, he grumbled. Daisy let out an undignified snort.
“I think our real first clue was when he made deadly weapons for Nazis.”
“Good point.”
They slowly made their way up the stairs, because of course it was a fucking walk-up, thankfully not running into anybody. Sousa and May had specifically chosen this time to sneak into Zola’s apartment because Stark had made sure he’d be busy at Camp Lehigh, and Daisy’s latest interrogation of Reinhardt had indicated that Zola was up to something.
“Last I heard, he had made a new friend” , the man who’d destroyed her life had said. “Although he did not give me details. He has also been making frequent trips to Russia, working on a top-secret weapon. Please, do tell me, what does touching the Obelisk feel like?”
That man gave Daisy the creeps, but his information had panned out so far. Carter had been right, keeping a monster locked up the basement was surreal, and terrifying. At least this time, it wasn’t the Lighthouse, and the man she had locked up was unequivocally evil instead of someone she’d once loved like a brother. Daisy had woken up with nightmares about being cut to pieces more than once in the past few weeks, and one night it had gotten bad enough that May had to wake her before she started bringing down the walls. Thankfully, no one had mentioned the freak Virginian earthquake the next day, although the agents who knew her true identity- Sousa, Friedman, Jones, and Dugan, had all been a little nicer to her. It was really fucking weird to have another half dozen strangers in her base now. The people Carter had sent over were competent and thoroughly vetted, Rose was even a spectacular agent, but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to get close with any of them. Having to reveal her identity to a handful of agents she knew from the history books she could trust was bad enough, trying to juggle being someone she wasn’t with a bunch of agents whose motivations she didn’t have the slightest idea of was dangerous. She’d already heard one of the new agents bragging about how he’d killed a dangerous Enhanced on a mission a year ago, and the others had seemed impressed. She’d let herself forget just how bad SHIELD had been about Enhanced people prior to the Inhuman outbreak- and after it too. Gonzalez had seemed like a bad egg at the time, but in reality it was Coulson who was different, biased by his experiences with the Avengers and his love for her. At least those who she’d worked with more closely respected her, and Sousa felt… a bit more strongly than that. She’d figure out what to do about that some other time. She’d been telling herself that for months now, but one of these days it would be true. As if that wasn’t bad enough, almost all the new agents were racist, sexist, or both, and most of them smoked. The 50s sucked. They did have a fair bit of respect for ‘Louise Wen’ after she’d knocked the biggest of them, some surprisingly smart agent named Pete Lane, on his ass, but she had to fight tooth and nail just for the men not to leer at her. Carter had at least sent over a couple of women, but they were still far too scarce in SHIELD.
They made it up to Zola’s apartment and picked the lock without incident. The place was cushy, spacious, and well-decorated. Zola was making a lot more money than a government salary could account for. The main doorway opened into a kitchen and dining room, with three doors leading into other rooms. The agents quietly made their way through the apartment, dropping the listening devices into hidden nooks and crannies and activating them. Quick and quiet was the way forward here, and digging up hard proof was less important than getting new leads. Daisy had just slipped one of Stark’s bugs into a seam between floorboards in the bedroom when she heard a door creak open. She and Daniel exchanged worried glances, and too many pairs of footsteps to count entered the apartment.
“Quake. Agent Sousa. How lovely to see you both again. How long has it been, Ms. Johnson, 24 years? That is you two in there, isn’t it? This’ll be rather embarrassing if it isn’t.”
Sousa’s jaw clenched shut so tightly it was a miracle he didn’t break a tooth, and he pulled a pistol out of his own satchel. He looked ready to go in guns-blazing, but Daisy raised a hand to signal him to wait. They both stayed out of sight from the kitchen, thankfully they’d closed the door behind them. Obviously this was Wilfred Malick, even if she didn’t recognize the voice after a couple decades of aging. Sousa had known him, had worked for him, and been almost killed by him. She couldn’t even fathom how pissed he must be.
“Either come out of there so we can have a civilized conversation, or my men burn this building with you, and all the poor housewives, in it.”
There was the sound of a flicking lighter, and she and Daniel exchanged another look. Daisy nodded, and he holstered his gun. They walked out together to face the music, and were met with a heavily bearded, grim-faced Malick and a half dozen heavyset men that looked like they’d walked straight out of old black-and-white gangster movies, armed with pistols and submachine guns. They’d at least had the professionalism to fan out, spread equally around the room with their backs to the door, guns all pointed at the two SHIELD agents. Malick was holding an open lighter and a newspaper, but he closed the lighter and dropped the paper when Daisy and Daniel stepped out into the open. Neither of them raised their hands- Daisy was more dangerous that way anyways.
“There you are. Come to check in on my friend Arnim, huh?” Malick was switching back and forth between a cruel HYDRA official and an almost fatherly middle-aged man. It was deeply unsettling.
“How’d you know we’d be here, Malick.”
“Sousa, my friend! I’m glad you could make it. My pal Luke thought you two might be here one of these days, I’ve had an eye kept on the place. You met him back in ‘31, Agent Johnson, at FDR’s party.”
“Is he one of the Chronicoms that was trying to murder you, who you decided to crawl into bed with?” Malick chuckled, and wagged a finger at her. She hated how patronizing it was.
“Chronicoms are smarter than us. They see things differently, on a different scale. I was a hindrance to them then, now, I’m their only friend on Earth. I know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides, I remember that your people tried to kill me too. I see why now, of course. Agent Shaw should’ve taken that shot. It was you who ordered him too, yes? I’m impressed.”
“Ooh, a villain monologue. You didn’t tell me they had those in the fifties, Sousa.”
“They usually don’t, I think the boss here is just that proud of himself. Must be trying to restore his bruised ego after he fucked up killing a one-legged man and couldn’t keep his own house secure. Heard you had a break-in recently, my deepest sympathies.” Malick laughed humorlessly, and pulled a gun from his belt, aiming it at Sousa’s chest. He stiffened, but she knew him well enough by now to tell that it was out of roiling anger rather than cold fear. He knew he’d live through this, he just wished Malick wouldn’t.
“This time I’ll finish the job myself, like I should’ve done the first time. I’m sure you two are so proud of yourself for sneaking around peoples’ homes, destroying artifacts crucial to the history of one’s species and stealing pieces of paper. What were you here for, planting bugs? Searching for incriminating evidence to get Carter to believe your crackpot conspiracy theories?”
Suddenly, everything fell into place for Daisy. She extended her vibrational sense towards Daniel, and felt his own reassuring heartbeat quicken as he realized it too. Malick thought they were striking out on their own, making sloppy moves trying to dig up evidence, not running a coordinated mission. However his Chronicom buddies were supplying him with information, it was flawed. He didn’t know shit, and Peggy had been successful at keeping him out of the loop.
“You came here yourself with hired muscle, you didn’t just send a team of mercs or pull some strings to get us arrested. Zola isn’t even here and this is his apartment. You’re trying to keep us quiet, aren’t you? Make sure the rest of HYDRA doesn’t know how badly you fucked up, just that you’ve got powerful new friends. I wonder what they’d have to say if they learned you let the Monolith get destroyed, and let so much intel fall into SHIELD’s hands.”
Malick sneered, waving his unarmed hand dismissively.
“The Chronicoms told me how the future goes, Quake . Hive failed, and caused the deaths of my entire family while he was at it. In your timeline, one of my sons was sacrificed to him, he sends you to kill the other, and he murders my granddaughter to make a point. With the Chronicoms’ power, the old religion is no longer relevant.” The mention of what Hive had made her do to Gideon Malick sent shivers up her spine. Not because she regretted tearing him apart from the inside out, but because she didn’t. He’d deserved it, and part of her still relished how it felt to give him what he deserved. Plus, she hadn’t missed that Malick had been boasting of the importance of the Monolith just a moment ago.
“You’re deflecting. She’s right, you’re trying to clean up your own mess before someone else has you killed. Who are you so afraid of?” The man who she’d once thought of as a harmless barkeep snarled and leveled a revolver at her face, pulling the hammer back while he sneered at Sousa.
“I’m not afraid of anything.”
July 19, 1955
Wilfred Malick strolled through SHIELD’s LA office like he owned the place, which he may as well have. He oversaw SHIELD’s two Security Chiefs, on the East and West coasts respectively, in addition to his many other duties as Head of Defense. Today, he was in LA, staying at his estate in town. In a few weeks, he’d be in New York, to check in on Flynn and deal with meetings at Camp Lehigh. He smiled and waved as was needed, shaking hands with the up-and-coming Agent Roberts and tactfully avoiding Dr. Samberly. He hated this… charade. Playing the part of an affable SHIELD official. He longed for the day when HYDRA could come out from the shadows, but there were too few of them now. The Arena Club fiasco had gotten many agents who could’ve become HYDRA assets arrested, mostly thanks to the man he was here to see; Daniel Sousa. A broken man, far too loyal to the decrepit ideals of this farce of an agency. Wilfred looked forward to the day when he could put a bullet in Sousa’s head and rule the planet alongside HYDRA’s returned god, but for now, he plastered on a smile and knocked on the Chief’s half-open office door. The ‘Auerbach Theatrical Agency’ was quiet and rather full, which paradoxically meant not much was going on. If it was, more agents would’ve been out in the field.
“Slow day, Sousa?”
“Mr. Malick! Come in, sir. And if you wouldn’t mind closing the door behind you?”
Wilfred had never been a particularly good spy, but he was first and foremost a politician, an administrator. A man whose entire life was built on a secret. He had gotten to be very good at reading people, and over the years they’d worked together, he’d learned how to read the usually-inscrutable man sitting behind a desk in front of him. He looked awful. He hadn’t shaved in a few days, his hand was much too close to the drawer that Wilfred knew held a gun, his desk was strewn with papers, and his shirt wasn’t fully buttoned. It was 9:30 in the morning, and if this had been anybody but Sousa, Wilfred would’ve thought them hungover. Guard now up, he shut the door as requested and sat in the chair that his subordinate gestured him to.
“What’s wrong, son? You look like you’ve seen better days.”
Sousa opened one of the drawers of his desk, and for a terrifying moment, Wilfred thought the younger man was about to shoot him. Instead, he withdrew a thick, stapled, well-organized stack of papers and slid them across the desk to Wilfred. Sousa leaned forward, lowered his voice, and half-whispered one sentence that would turn Wilfred’s life upside down.
“I think SHIELD’s been infiltrated by HYDRA.”
Immediately, he knew that he would have to kill Sousa far sooner than he’d planned. That was inconvenient. The man was far sharper than he’d thought, if he’d managed to notice what so many others had missed. The shock on Wilfred’s face was genuine when he picked up the file and began leafing through it, skimming the highlights while Sousa prattled on.
“I started to wonder after the incident with Masters about how riddled with double agents SHIELD was, so I started to do some digging. There’s too much that doesn’t add up in too many people’s backgrounds and bank accounts. I think some of the German scientists SHIELD absorbed have been slipping sleeper agents into the edges of the agency. I don’t know who to trust, but you have contacts at the CIA, right sir? Can you send them this?”
The report was thorough, detailed, and accurate. Clearly the work of months, if not years. Unfortunately, it was nowhere near complete. Unbeknownst to Sousa, it was far from just the edges, and his contacts at the CIA were mostly HYDRA assets too.
“I’ll send it over as soon as I can. This is excellent work, Sousa. I hope you’re wrong, but it seems like you aren’t.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Agent Carter knows too, I assume? I know you two were… close.” Sousa shook his head, brushing hair out of his eyes.
“We haven’t spoken in a while, things didn’t work out. No one’s fault, but I don’t know if she’d believe this coming from me. This needs to be verified externally.” Wilfred realized then and there, far too late, what kind of man Daniel Sousa was. He was an idealist, yes, but he wasn’t the naive fool he’d hoped: he was a capable idealist. His only mistake was beyond his control, really. He hadn’t realized just how deep HYDRA was. But even if he had, would it have mattered? Cut off one head, and two more shall take its place.
“I agree. I’ll reach out to my contacts. We’ll talk after you get back from the Helius test, figure out how deep the rot goes.”
“It’ll have to be the next day, sir. I’ve got to drop a package off to Mr. Stark that evening.” Oh? Fascinating. He hadn’t known that. He’d have to make sure to intercept that package.
“Go home, Sousa. Shave, shower, get some sleep for Chrissakes. However many all-nighters you pulled to put this together, you can rest now. There’s nothing you can do for the next few days, until I hear back.”
“Sir-“
“That’s an order, son. You’re no good to me if you can’t keep your eyes open.” Sousa slumped back into his chair, finally seeming to relax a little. The poor, trusting fool. He would almost feel bad having him killed. But he was a good man, he was kind-hearted. HYDRA had no use for such weakness.
“Yes sir.”
Sousa shoved some of his stuff into a bag, and Wilfred guided him to the door. Before opening it, he clapped a hand on the younger man’s shoulder, knowing in his bones that this would be the last time they ever saw each other. Sousa would be dead in three days, and HYDRA would be safe. The mission he began in 1931 would continue.
“I’ll see you soon, Sousa. We’ll figure this out. Take care of yourself, will you? Saving SHIELD is enough for one day.” The dead man smiled sadly at him, leaning more heavily on his cane than usual.
“No promises, sir. But thank you. Good to know I’m not going crazy.”
“No, you're not. I think you’re completely correct. We can trust no one.”
October 6, 1955
A shot rang out before Daisy could quake the gun apart, but to her shock, it was Malick who doubled over, blood spurting from his shoulder. Daniel, pistol still smoking in one hand, tackled her from the side, pulling her down behind the kitchen island just as Malick’s goons started shooting. That was clever, there was no way for him to signal what he was about to do before he did it, and he’d managed to get them both into cover and nearly kill Malick. Two guards dragged Wilfred out of the room, pressing a handkerchief into the bullet wound as he screamed curses at Daisy, but she didn’t give a shit. She disentangled herself from Daniel and nodded her thanks before blasting at the two closest men, sending them into a row of cabinets. A chorus of shattering plates and glasses sounded, and Daisy grinned to herself in satisfaction. While Daniel exchanged fire with another two HYDRA gunmen, Daisy reached out with her vibrations. Malick would not have only brought six men to kill her, he knew better. She sensed another fifteen men in a truck just outside the building, all of them heavily armed. Rose was around the block, and her heartrate was steady, though she was armed as well. Malick and his bodyguards had made it to a getaway car, and in the apartment itself- huh, that was odd. Something much too dense and energetic was in the next room over.
Daisy launched herself over the countertop, punching down into the temple of the closer thug, while Daniel kept them distracted. She sensed Daniel’s gun stop firing as soon as she was in his line of fire, and felt a dozen of the gunmen outside starting to climb the stairs. No time for theatrics, she had to be quick. A precise kick inverted the kneecap of the other thug before he even realized Daisy was there, and he fell screaming to the floor. Daisy sent a quake at his head, and it slammed back into the hardwood floor. His heart rate slowed as he lost consciousness. This sixth sense thing was awesome , but there would be more time to practice later. She allowed herself to shoot Daniel a lopsided grin, and saw him staring at her in awe from behind his cover. She felt his heart skip a beat, and she tried not to sound too out of breath- definitely from the fight, not at all from how he was looking at her.
“You okay? Did you get hit?”
“No, I’m good. Just annoyed I missed. I was aiming for Malick’s heart,” he bit out
“That was your mistake, he doesn’t have one. You‘ll have plenty of target practice in a second, I can feel more men coming. A dozen of them. There’s something in the bedroom, it’s too dense, it’s not from Earth. I can handle the thugs, can you-?”
“On it.”
Daisy ran to the main door, half-hearing Daniel scrambling for the bedroom behind her. She’d have to focus, twelve at once would be difficult, even for her. Thankfully, they were running up stairs and through a door, it would filter them in a few at a time. Three of Malick’s henchmen rushed into the room first, and started shooting the second they saw Daisy. Unfortunately for them, it was already too late, she was too close to them and moving much too fast. A chip of wood floor was blasted off by a stray bullet, and she felt a large splinter dig into her shoulder, but otherwise she was completely unharmed by the poorly-aimed barrage. She ducked under their fire, sweeping the legs out from under two at once. Before they’d hit the ground, she slammed her fist into the chin of the third, putting vibrations behind her own considerable strength. The poor bastard was blasted into the ceiling, his torso crashing through it and leaving him half-stuck, legs dangling out. She had enough time to giggle before another five rushed in.
Her assessment had been correct, these men were chosen for their thuggish looks rather than for any sort of skill. They had next to no hand-to-hand training, those that did exchange punches with her fought like brawlers, nothing at all like a skilled HYDRA agent. She stayed in too close for them to use their guns without shooting themselves or each other, and was able to quickly switch from killing to incapacitating without putting herself at risk. Distantly, she knew another four thugs were on the way, and Sousa was rummaging through drawers in Zola’s bedroom, but that didn’t matter. The air filled with smoke and dust, as guns went off uselessly, turning the drywall into powder and sending bits of marble countertop in every direction. These idiots. Daisy could fight blind, they couldn’t. She found herself thinking idly of her childhood friend Matt, from St. Agnes. He’d be so impressed- Matty had had his own almost-eerie ability to feel his surroundings despite being blind. She wondered what had happened to him.
In a scarce few moments, four of the HYDRA goons were unconscious or dead on the floor, and the fifth sneered at Daisy, drawing a knife from his belt.
“Time to die, girl.”
She didn’t dignify such a terrible line with a response, even if it was delivered in an absolutely classic New Jersey accent. She felt like she was in an old mob movie as she launched a punch at his stomach- 2012 Skye would’ve found this badass. He was able to block her, and they sparred for only a moment, with the man able to put a nasty scratch on her cheek before she shattered his neck. What was it with cuts on her goddamn cheek? She let out a relieved breath, wiped the blood off her face, and readied herself to fight the next four. It hadn’t been more than a minute since Sousa had shot Malick, but it felt like hours. She’d missed combat like this, beating the shit out of Nazis and doing some good.
More Nazis to beat up sprinted into the room, two of them aiming rifles and the other two drawing knives. Some sort of weird crack squad? She was still halfway across the room, not sure what good the knives would do. She was about to quake them through a wall when she felt vibrations change behind her. She dropped to the floor on instinct, and four pulses of energy whined from the entrance to the bedroom. A moment later, the four thugs collapsed, smoking holes in their chests. Daisy pushed herself up to her feet, blinking the smoke and dust out of her eyes, and turning around to see Sousa holding a definitely not-human gun, still smoking from the barrel, and leaning on his cane in the doorway to the bedroom. Daniel flashed the grin that made her knees weak and slung the gun over his shoulder. Daisy recognized it as a Chronicom rifle, Malick’s allies must have gotten it to Zola. She could feel it was the object she’d sensed, she’d been right about Zola having something alien stashed away. And Sousa had incredible aim. The apartment was a mess of bullet holes, bodies, and debris, but they were both without serious injury.
“Not bad. I might keep this. You’re bleeding, are you hurt? Are there any other squids lurking around?” She blinked in surprise, staring at his drywall-covered face and ignoring the urge to wipe it off. It was probably filled with asbestos anyway. They really needed to stop making a habit of getting covered in dust in HYDRA officials’ homes. She stretched out her senses to find an answer for his question, and came up empty. Just the ones they’d already knocked out or killed. The ones out by their truck seemed to have been similarly incapacitated, probably by Rose.
“No, they’re all gone, and it’s just a scratch. When I tell you that that was the last of them, it isn’t hard for you to swallow? You just… trust me?” He looked at her, completely bewildered.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Fuck it, they were safe for a moment. She was too impatient to wait any longer, and he was giving her that look again, like she was the center of the universe. He hadn’t even thought to second-guess her decisions or information, which every other agent she’d ever had the slightest bit of authority over had seemed to think was their god-given duty.
“Every time I ask you for help, you say yes, and you obey my orders even though you’re supposed to be in charge. Even if I don’t ask, you’re throwing a blanket over me when I fall asleep on the couch or pulling me out of the line of fire or whatever. Why? Be honest.” She knew what he was going to say, or at least the rough outline, but she needed to hear it directly. She was tired of dancing around this- figuratively, at least. Literally dancing had been fun.
“Honest?” Sousa took a deep breath, and adopted an expression that screamed ‘resigning myself to my fate’. She nodded, and he wiped some of the dust from his face, flinging it off his hand with a flick of the wrist.
“I know your type.”
“My what now?”
“I know people like you.” Okay, that sounded slightly less racist. “Some of my favorite people are people like you.” She looked at him in confusion, and he took another breath before continuing. “Focused on the greater good, even at your own expense. You want people to think you like being alone, even though you always end up back with friends. You hate losing.”
“Everyone hates losing.”
“Yeah, but you’ll keep running at the problem full-tilt until you either solve it or slam headlong into a brick wall.”
“Some of those walls are literal.”
“I know.”
“Yeah, but how does that-”
“Because when people like you run into those walls, you should have someone there to pick you back up.” Oh. That was- so very Daniel.
“And you- you like to be that someone?”
“Not for everyone.” She took a deep breath, waiting once again for him to continue. He sighed and looked down at his feet before meeting her gaze again, and she had to stop herself from sucking in another breath at the look in his eyes. She didn’t even have the words to describe it, and didn’t think she’d ever seen anyone look at her that way before, but she wanted to see it again. “It helps if they’re fun to be around and they say what they mean, and if they have that superpower where they can rock things around which is- very impressive.” He took a step closer to her as he spoke, and she chuckled to herself, stepping closer to him as well.
“That’s, um… that is awfully specific.” Aside from the singular ‘they’, of course. Interesting detail.
“Mhmm.” He looked down at his feet again, trying not to meet her eyes, but she could feel how quickly his heart was racing, and was emboldened by his confession of the feelings she’d already known about, but had refused to accept. If she’d admitted to herself that she felt the same, that she might have a chance at happiness with him, she’d be screwed. Things would go sideways eventually. But right now, she didn’t care. In the face of Daniel Sousa and the most heartfelt declaration of… a crush? feelings? devotion? that she’d ever heard, she couldn’t bring herself to focus on the logical side of things, or listen to the voice in her head that whispered doom and ruin, told her she was cursed, spoke in Ward and Jiaying and Cal and Trip and Andrew and Lincoln’s voice and said ‘wherever you go, death follows.’ Daisy shoved her doubts aside, closed the final inches between them, and kissed him. He stiffened in response, and she pulled back, ready to apologize profusely for her fuck-up, but then he was kissing her, with something between softness and desperation, and she couldn’t help but feel relief mixed in with her otherwise-unadulterated joy. When they finally pulled apart, Daniel’s free hand was on her waist, and hers were on his (very nice) biceps. Daisy was grinning like an idiot, but she didn’t care, because so was he. Only then did she remember where she was.
“That was nice. Now, let’s get these prisoners back to base.” She nodded once, trying to shake the post-kiss haze from her head, and patted him on the chest. He blinked, returned her nod, and was just about to let go of her waist when Rose burst into the room, an ICER in one hand and a revolver in the other. She blinked in shock at the scene: a dozen HYDRA thugs dead or unconscious, the apartment in ruins, Sousa with an alien gun slung over his back and ‘Louise Wen’ in his arms, and both agents gazing into each others’ eyes like lovesick teenagers. They all but leapt apart when Rose entered, and Daisy cursed herself for not sensing her arrival. She nearly tripped over a gun, and just ended up standing awkwardly, trying not to meet Rose’s eyes. Unfortunately that led to her staring at Daniel, who was beet-red and focused entirely on his shoe. Rose coughed to break the awkward silence.
“I heard something about a prisoner?” she demurred.
“Yes of course-”
“We need to bring these men in-“
They spoke over each other, then both stopped simultaneously to let the other speak. Rose sighed in exasperation and pulled three sets of handcuffs from her belt. Sirens wailed in the distance, the local police finally coming to find out what all the gunfire was about.
“Let’s get started then. And, Chief Sousa? Congrats. You both deserve this”
Daniel went from red to purple, and Daisy just laughed at his misfortune. They’d have a lot to talk about later, but right now there was work to be done. This might’ve been an incredibly awkward situation, but Daisy had no regrets. She’d put that off long enough as it was.
Notes:
We honestly don't get to see that much of Wilfred's 1955 personality, so I took some liberties. That is of course the most important thing to happen this chapter. Chapter 10 will be the last before I jump ahead a few months, but I expect it to be very long, and have a lot of familiar faces.
Chapter 10
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
October 6, 1955
The ride back to the Playground was… interesting, to say the least. Rose sat in the back, guarding the prisoners, saying she’d let the others have some time to themselves with a knowing wink. She didn’t ask questions, and neither Daisy nor Sousa offered explanations. They themselves didn’t have any yet. Thankfully, there was at least a first aid kit and a couple of towels and bottles of water, so they were able to quickly clean up the blood and dust they were making a habit of getting covered in. At a rest stop near Trenton, Rose stitched up the slash on Daisy’s cheek, and Sousa gently dug the shard of wood out of her shoulder, bandaging it up quickly and efficiently. Despite the semblance of privacy, they could easily hear Rose yelling at the HYDRA thugs in the back, and occasionally ICEing them when they got antsy. Driving from Jersey to DC was much slower in the days before the interstate highway system, it turned out. They drove in shifts, making idle conversation or sitting in comfortable silence. Daisy wanted to follow up on the kiss they’d shared, and knew he did too, but this wasn’t the time or place. Ironic, as always. Once they got back to base, they’d talk. For a few hours at least, she could be content with how his heart rate sped up when she squeezed his hand while she drove.
After a few hours of misery on the New Jersey Turnpike, and a few more finishing the trip to Alexandria, they dropped off the prisoners with some of the more heavily-armed agents, and ensured they were dropped in a cell. On their way to May’s bunk to debrief with her, Daisy laid a hand on his arm. They might not have time to properly talk just yet, but she still had something she needed to say.
“Hey. Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Just… being here.”
“It was nothing, but you’re welcome… Quake,” he stage-whispered.
“I’m sorry, what now?”
“Nothing, just happy to help, Quake, whatever you need,” he deadpanned, but Daisy could hear the smile in his voice.
“Are you being funny?” she demanded.
“Uh, is it funny? Not if that’s what you like to be called, Quake.” Goddamn Malick for spitting that title at her.
“I- the press called me that, I never-“
“You should probably have a Q on your utility belt so people know it’s you.”
“That is really smart, yeah. Yeah, yeah, make fun of the person who can literally turn you to dust .” She emphasized her point by poking him gently in the chest.
“Yeah, you can quake me. No, I get it, that’s why they call you that.”
They both gave up trying not to laugh, and dissolved into giggles. Daisy hated that he had a point, though. It was a stupid name. They turned a corner, and seeing people at the other end of the hallway they’d entered, steeled themselves.
“Sousa! Wen! There’s a few people here to see you, flirt later. Go get your mom too,” Friedman shouted at them down a hall. Daisy would’ve quaked him if he hadn’t had three of the newcomers right behind him- and Daisy was certain that one of them was reporting their every move to Carter. She and Daniel exchanged a puzzled glance, and walked down the hall towards Yossi.
“Do you know who’s here?” Daisy knew she’d regret asking before the words had finished leaving her mouth.
“The bosses. All three of them. Good luck.”
After a quick stop by May’s bunk, the three agents stepped into a conference room, where Howard Stark, Peggy Carter, and Chester Phillips were waiting for them, seated at a table. Sousa sat down in another chair, while Daisy and her mom remained standing. Daisy had never met the current director of SHIELD before, but she’d seen his pictures in the history books, and Coulson had told plenty of stories about his exploits. She was looking forward to this, but didn’t get the chance to say as much before he started yelling.
“Who wants to explain why neither of you told me that our brand-new time-travelling buddies are Enhanced until this morning! You’re lucky I don’t lock every single one of you up for goddamn treason !” Never mind, she didn’t care for him very much.
“If you know we’re enhanced, then you know you don’t have a cell that can hold us.” Daisy allowed the ground to shake just a little to emphasize her point. She understood now exactly what kind of man Chester Phillips was, and she’d dealt with too many like him. Gonzalez, Rosalind Price, and others, both more moderate and more vile. She knew how to deal with his ilk. “And even without our powers, there’s a reason they call us what they do.” Phillips leaned forward slightly, brow furrowing.
“And what, precisely, do they call you, Miss Johnson.” May stepped forward, crossing her arms, and exuding pure badassery. It was impressive, and Stark even shrunk backwards from her. Thankfully, May understood the game they were playing now.
“I’m the Cavalry. She’s the Destroyer of Worlds.” Daisy shifted her vibrations then from the ground to the air, making it buzz around them. Daniel looked at her in awe and wonder, Stark with childlike curiosity, Carter with cold analysis, and Phillips with unadulterated fear.
“I think that proves my point well enough. None of us know anything about you! Either of you! We’re running on Sousa’s word that he trusts you, which in fairness is significant, but he’s only got your word and a very convenient rescue,” Phillips pointed a finger at Sousa, who was silently fuming in a corner. “And you have a history of trusting the wrong person if she’s got a pretty face.” She felt Daniel’s fist clench and his heart rate increase- when did she get so attuned to his vibrations? And cut in before he said anything he would regret.
“Would you like to know my favorite pizza toppings or how many times I saved the world first?” Mouthing off to superior officers was her favorite pastime.
“What does it matter! None of it can be proven!”
“I’ve been taking their plane apart for a month. If it isn’t from SHIELD in the future than I’m not a genius. The hardware, the logos, the software I can’t even begin to understand. It’s all SHIELD.”
“Stark-” Phillips began, but he was cut off before he could finish chewing out his old colleague.
“He’s right, sir. I saw the bigger plane, and their friend Coulson knew things that absolutely nobody but Howard and I could have. Every single tip they’ve given us so far has panned out, we’ve got an alien gun from Zola’s place, and Malick believes it enough to try to have Daisy and I killed. He directly told us he’s seen the same future they’re from thanks to his alien robot buddies.” Thank god for Daniel. At least one 1950s SHIELD agent was on her side.
“Whether or not you are who you claim is settled. What’s less so is who, exactly, you claim to be. Some information would be appreciated,” Peggy proposed. Phillips nodded his agreement, pulling out a notepad and a pen from somewhere in his military uniform.
“Let’s start with the basics. Names, birthdates, that sort of thing.”
“Daisy Louise Johnson, July 2, 1988, born in Hunan Province-”
“In what? ”
“Oh, yeah, I was born in China. My mom’s Chinese, but also, like, alien and immortal. Dad was from Michigan. And, for the record, it’s bacon.” Daisy wasn’t sure if alien or China was pissing him off more, but she couldn’t resist messing with Phillips even more after watching his face get redder and redder. Stark nodded at her, a grin splitting her face.
“Excuse me?”
“Bacon. My favorite pizza topping. And I lost count of how many times I’ve saved the world.”
“She’s got good taste,” Stark commented, but Phillips waved at him dismissively.
“We’ll come back to your record in a moment. Agent May?”
May recited her own birth certificate for Phillips’ benefit. He seemed satisfied enough to learn that she was American-born, to a mother that worked for the CIA.
“Do either of you have now, or have you had in the past, affiliations with HYDRA, the Nazi Party of either the United States or Germany, the Communist Party of the USA, People’s Republic of China, Soviet Union, Poland, East Germany, North Korea, Yugoslavia, Czechoslovakia, or any other Marxist, Communist, Socialist, Fascist, or Anarchist organizations?” The wonders of McCarthyism. She briefly considered doing the smart thing, and just denying it, but she was so goddamn tired of hiding who she was. Maybe Inhumans had to hide, maybe SHIELD shouldn’t learn how the future went, but she wouldn’t hide her own history. She was done being ashamed of who she was, what she’d done, and what she’d accomplished. She wasn’t proud of everything on her track record, but she was proud enough of most of it to feel certain that honesty, in this situation, was the right thing to do. It wasn’t smart, or politic, but it felt right.
“Yup. I leaked classified information for years. I was a freedom-of-information anarchist before I joined SHIELD.” Phillips rubbed at his sinuses and tossed his pen down on the table. This was a new record, she’d never given someone a headache this quickly.
“So you’re an anarchist and a traitor to your country.”
“Former anarchist, and technically I didn’t have any citizenship at the time. I wiped all my records from the system.”
“And since Daisy was recruited she’s been a stellar agent, and saved billions of lives,” May added. Phillips managed not to blink at billions with a ‘b’.
“Where do your loyalties lie, Miss Johnson?”
“Loyalties? No offense, but every time I follow an organization or a person they turn on me or end up being evil. There was one exception, and he’s dead. I was loyal to the SHIELD he led, and while I’m here I’m not exactly gonna defect to the Soviets or anything. They’ve got a terrible HYDRA infestation of their own, plus there’s all the gulags and shit. I’ll do the right thing, but I’m not the loyal soldier you’re probably looking for. And I’ll fight HYDRA on my own if you won’t help me.”
“As will I,” Daniel added. Would she ever stop being surprised by his loyalty? He’d said a version of the same thing to her on Zephyr One before he’d even learned her name.
“So you see yourself as the Lone Ranger type.”
“I see myself as the Nazi-killing type.” That got a laugh out of Phillips, and seemed to satisfy him.
“As long as you understand whose orders you follow.”
“Yes sir.” Coulson, Mack, or May. She understood perfectly well. He seemed to believe she was talking about him.
“And your powers?”
“What about them?”
“You, Miss Johnson, control vibrations, and Miss May is an empath, is that right?” ‘Miss May’ sounded… so strange.
“It’s Agent , not Miss,” her mom cut in.
“Answer the question, Agent May.”
“Yes, it’s correct.”
“Then you both need to be Indexed.” Daisy just barely managed to stop herself from laughing.
“I’ll kill you if you try. I’m not going through that again. I’m a person, not a weapon for you to take inventory on.” She meant every word. She’d been sold into slavery once, and treated like a weapon for far too long. SHIELD’s attempt at registering Inhumans had gotten dozens of them killed by Watchdogs. She wouldn’t roll over for those who just wanted to exploit her any longer.
“Of course you’re a weapon! You’re an A-bomb on two legs! You claim to be a United States federal agent. That means you are a soldier who will fight how your commanding officers tell you to!”
“Actually we’re fugitives from the US government. I was an official SHIELD agent when it was legitimate for like… a week, in two increments.”
Phillips’ complexion turned from tomato to eggplant.
“I was legitimate for thirty years. I’ve stayed loyal to SHIELD, and Daisy’s our best agent. But SHIELD and the government haven’t gotten along too well since HYDRA took over.” May, as always, was impressive enough to make her seem crazy. Phillips looked between the two of then, straightened his army uniform, and turned to the billionaire on his right.
“Stark, I want subcutaneous trackers in both of them by next week.”
“Try to put a tracker in me and I’ll shatter every bone in your body,” May spat.
“Respectfully, sir, I don’t want to take that risk, I believe her.” Howard Stark was a smart man.
“I don’t care about medals or accolades or whatever, I don’t need to get anything in return for hunting down HYDRA. But I refuse to let you punish us for saving your ass. May and I can kill everybody on this base if we wanted to, and I could bring the whole city down. We won’t. We’re loyal agents. But treat us like lab rats and I will quake you .” Daisy put every ounce of the leadership ability Coulson had believed her to possess into her words, and she was rewarded with an intrigued look from Carter, and a quickening heartbeat from Sousa.
“Is that a threat?”
“More like a promise. Human beings don’t like to be caged up.”
“But you’re not human, are you? You’re a foreign, alien, Communist, criminal, and you’ve done nothing but ruin Sousa’s operation since you got here. You’re lucky you’re not being dissected or rotting in a prison cell.” Daisy’s vision went red, and the rest of the room faded out around her. She casually extended an open palm towards the Colonel, and his eyes widened in fear. With one focused blast she splinted his chair, and with another, she sent him hurtling back into the wall behind him. Phillips shouted in pain, but she could feel that his bones were intact. Not good enough. This man was no better than Kasius, barely better than Whitehall. He was just another Gonzales. Phillips drew a pistol from his holster, but before he could aim it, Daisy quaked it to pieces. She felt May step forward to be by her side, and could sense that her arms were folded. Daniel was saying something, but she couldn’t hear him over the rushing blood in her ears. It was Peggy Carter’s shout that broke through her bloodlust.
“Enough! You’re all acting like bloody children! We’re under siege from HYDRA as it is, we cannot afford to fight amongst ourselves when so many of those we trust are already our enemies! We’re all on the same side here. None of us in this room can beat HYDRA unless we work together. You need our resources and we need your intelligence and skills.” Daisy lowered her hands, and nodded her agreement, but otherwise didn’t move or speak a word. Daniel slowly laid a hand on her shoulder, and she let him, trying not to lean into the touch. As Phillips hauled himself off the floor, Daisy kept glaring daggers at him, and knew from the way Daniel’s hand tightened and something in the back of her skull burned with a low anger that her mom and… boyfriend? were just as pissed at the Colonel as she was.
“Your point is made, you two are useful enough to keep around. I know you and Carter have a deal where you keep information about the future to yourselves. No World Series winners, no future Presidents, not even warning us about an upcoming war even though it might save thousands of lives. You’ve given us enough on HYDRA that I can turn a blind eye to some of those details, since you seem to be taking care of things for the most part. But what I will not stand for is giving you two access to everything just because Sousa’s acting like a lovesick puppy.” She really wanted to quake this fucker again.
“Colonel, they may be… unorthodox, but their results speak for themselves. I was hesitant to give them Reinhardt and the 084, but doing so brought in actionable intelligence. Every gamble we’ve taken on them has paid off so far, sir. I don’t see why we shouldn’t accept that they are SHIELD agents with their SHIELD’s best interests at heart. Making sure 2019 and 1955 SHIELD agree seems to be simple enough for now, we both want HYDRA gone. Besides, Daniel trusts them, and I trust his judgement. He had the chance to shoot me once and he didn’t take it.” Carter should be the director. She was the voice of reason already, and seemed trustworthy enough.
“Do you trust him because he’s a good agent or because you used to be partners? ” Phillips put all the innuendo he could on the term ‘partners’, apparently it wasn’t proper 1950s decorum to say ‘you used to fuck’ or even to describe someone as an ex. That was confusing.
“He was a good agent long before we dated, Colonel Phillips, and regardless of our personal relationship-”
“Or lack thereof,” Daniel muttered without malice.
“-he’s one of our best. I confess I’m not sure to what extent we can rely on them, but I don’t think imprisonment and interrogation will be more useful than supervised field work. I believe we can be allies, if nothing else.” Daisy silently applauded him for having a non-murderous relationship with his ex. They were definitely over each other but they’d managed to maintain mutual respect. It was touching, and not something she’d ever managed to pull off. Usually, things ended a bit more… violently for her. Phillips considered his options: the threat of death or good agents on his hands. Carter had put things far more eloquently, and hopefully effectively, than Daisy had. He sighed, but Daisy knew he wasn’t accepting defeat.
“If you assist us with non-HYDRA-related operations as well, at my discretion, your deal with Agent Carter will stand. If you want to be SHIELD agents, you’d damn well better act like them.” Before Daisy could speak, May took the words out of her mouth.
“Agreed.”
With one last foul look, the Colonel stormed out of the room. Stark and Carter trailed along in his wake, with Howard shooting May an apologetic look. Poor guy had a crush. As soon as they were gone, Daniel breathed a huge sigh of relief, and Daisy’s mom wheeled on her.
“Next time, just lie.”
“He was gonna lock us up!”
“I didn’t tell him about the Framework when he asked about HYDRA. Going lighter on the details would’ve helped. If he tried to lock us up, we would’ve fought our way out. I’m proud of you for standing your ground, but you should’ve been more careful.”
“I didn’t think he’d be that…”
“Racist?”
“I was gonna say that much of an ass, but yeah. Coulson always described him as a hero.”
“Whatever he is, we can’t trust him. He’s planning something, I could feel it. He meant what he said about cutting that deal, but he’ll find a way to stab us in the back as soon as he can.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else. We’ll be ready.” May grinned wickedly, and Daisy felt her mother’s pride wash over her. It was enough to make her tear up, and for a moment, the two women just basked in the bond they’d forged. Daniel cleared his throat, getting the women’s attention. She’d forgotten he was there.
“Daisy, can we talk for a moment?” He asked nervously.
“Yeah, of course. I’ll catch up with you soon, mom.” May smirked knowingly and left them alone. There were a half dozen different things this conversation could be about, she was curious to find out which it was. He stood from his chair, but didn’t move forward.
“Are you gonna chew me out for what I did to Phillips?”
“Actually I was going to thank you, you saved me the trouble of breaking his nose. That would’ve been a lot of paperwork.” How Daniel managed to keep a straight face was beyond her. Daisy chuckled and wrapped him in a hug, which he happily returned. It was nice to have someone who was actually in her corner, for once. “I’m so sorry Daisy, you didn’t deserve any of that. He’s an idiot and a brute. I’ve got your back if he tries anything.” Daisy cleared her throat and stepped back a few paces, rubbing her hands together anxiously.
“We should uh… We should probably talk about this morning.”
“Yeah, we should.” Daniel took a deep breath, and launched into a speech he’d obviously been writing in his head all day.
“I don’t know how things work in the future, but I’d like for this to be more than just a couple adrenaline-fueled kisses. You’re strong, and so compassionate that you’ve already saved the world a half dozen times and can only think about doing it again, and a genius so far above my level it makes my head hurt, and a natural leader, and the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen, and if you’ll let me, I’d very much like to have a proper date with you that doesn’t involve getting shot at.” She couldn’t help but giggle at his ludicrously dorky, and somehow charming, 50s-ness. He was such a square. Fuck, she really wanted to say yes.
“Daniel, I- I don’t know what to say. Believe me, I want this too, I want you, but when my team shows up I’ll have to go. You’re a good person, you need something more stable than me. It wouldn’t be fair to you.” His smile didn’t waver, but she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes, so she just stared at her hands, picking at the cuffs of her sleeves. Daniel took both of her hands in both of his, and waited patiently for her to look back up. When she did, she was blinking back tears, and he was waiting for her with that goddamn smile of his. What she didn’t tell him, couldn’t tell him, was that she was afraid. She was terrified that if she allowed herself to care for him, or even to love him down the line, she’d lose him too. If her team didn’t whisk her away, he’d die, or grow sick of her, just like everyone else she got close to did.
“Daisy, I knew what I was getting into. You’re worth it- you’ve always been worth it. I’ll gladly take whatever time we have together. I’m only alive thanks to you, this is all just… extra. A second chance that you gave me. I’m not gonna waste any of it. I’ll be here for you every step of the way, if you’ll have me. I’m not going anywhere.”
How the hell did he always know exactly the right thing to say? If she had to be stuck in the past, she was going to make the most of it. It was so rare that she did something just because it would make her happy, mission be damned, but in this case it was worth it. Daniel had been there for her from the start, and she knew in her bones he’d be good for her- for as long as she was here, anyway. He was solid, dependable, and had her back no matter what, not to mention really good-looking. He respected her, was devoted to her. He didn’t fear her powers or the fact that she was a trained killer, and actually seemed to consider those turn-ons. She’d never once had a relationship like that. She’d consider it settling if he hadn’t been one of the rare sources of joy during her time in the 50s, and hadn’t been as handsome as he was. She’d been ignoring how she felt for too long, when there was no point to it. Her team might not show up until she was dead of old age, or it might be twenty years. She had plenty of time, she might as well spend it being happy. And she knew, if nothing else, that Daniel Sousa made her happy. But Daisy had never been good at allowing herself to be happy, not without waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“I’m not even human, you know that, right? And you could get arrested for being with me in half the country.” He blinked, adorably confused.
“Your powers are very impressive. And do you think I should care what other people think? Look, if you don’t want this, if you just want to stay friends and coworkers, please just say so instead of looking for reasons to drive me away.”
He looked like he was about to say more, but she silenced him with a kiss, snaking her arms around his back. He grunted in surprise, but kissed her back with more devotion and warmth and care than she’d ever thought possible, cupping her cheek tenderly. When Daisy broke the kiss, she laid her head on his chest, and Daniel wrapped his arms around her, gently rubbing circles on her back. He pressed his lips to the crown of her head, and she hummed contentedly. His vibrations were solid and steady, as was his heartbeat. It felt like home, and she couldn’t bring herself to be terrified by that.
“I take it that’s a yes?” Daisy kissed him again in reply, threading her hands into his hair, and he laughed into her mouth. She just might get used to this, if she wasn’t careful. Maybe she would anyway.
“Yes. Absolutely, yes.”
Notes:
This is the last chapter that takes place in 1955, Chapter 11 is set in February of 1956. In my current outlines, the 1973 reunion is chapter 30, so the next twenty or so chapters will be spread out over around 18 years, with a lot of stuff happening in the months between chapters. There isn't really any way around this without, like, tripling the already-considerable length I have planned, so maybe I'll just write some one-shots to fill in the blanks if I ever get the main story done. For now, thank you all for reading, and thank you to GlaringRed for being an excellent beta reader, who is basically solely responsible for this very complicated plot remaining coherent. There is... a lot to juggle here, to say the least. This is also by far the longest thing I've ever written, my google doc is currently at 55k words between drafts, notes, and outlines. Comments and kudos are also always appreciated.
Chapter 11
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
February 9, 1956
Daniel needed a fucking nap. His leg hurt, for starters. He’d been holed up in his office all afternoon because he didn’t trust himself not to hiss in pain if he tried to go downstairs. The last four months had been incredibly productive, but a major downside of that was not having the slightest bit of time to breathe- or sleep. Not that he’d be able to sleep, anyway, with his leg killing him like this. He’d barely even had any time with Daisy for two weeks- they’d seen each other, of course, they lived on the same base- but if they weren’t in private it wasn’t the same. Her cover story had to be maintained in front of almost every agent on the base. Their relationship was something of an open secret, they didn’t flaunt it for reasons of professionalism, but it was obvious to anyone who paid the slightest bit of attention. It was hard enough to get some of the stuck-up assholes around here to obey her orders without the whispers about them dating. Daniel didn’t mind juggling the logistics in the least, Daisy made him incredibly happy, but right now he wished for a few hours of calm, if only so they could be normal. Going on the proper date he’d promised her in October had taken a full month- between being stuck in Jim Crow territory and Daniel needing to maintain his whole ‘being dead’ thing, it had taken them a while to find the time to get far enough away from the base. They’d had to go all the way to Philly, but they’d had a wonderful time, and managed to squeeze in a few other proper dates alongside a lot of stolen moments and co-led missions. Countless hours huddled around a table, going over documents and plans with May didn’t count.
Some of those who the Hercules agents had identified as HYDRA operatives had started to disappear, and Daniel suspected they were fleeing the country pre-emptively, as rumors of HYDRA’s survival started to spread. As if that wasn’t enough, May had come by that morning to inform him that she’d just remembered former HYDRA members were building Tesseract-powered weapons for the Peruvian Government, and then she’d left to go plant bugs in their embassy. What the fuck? He’d need to get more details on that later. Plenty of Nazis had fled to South America, maybe HYDRA officials had joined them; even if the Reich and HYDRA had had a bit of a falling out in the last months of the war. May was rarely forthcoming, she was at her most relaxed around Daisy, but Daniel would need more intel about this. Hopefully her bugs worked. If they did, he’d have to find a couple of the new agents who spoke Spanish and have them sift through hours of audio and video recordings. That being said, there were so many new agents around nowadays, with so many coming in and out all the time, he had no idea if any of them spoke Spanish. Peggy and Phillips claimed they’d all been verified as loyal to SHIELD, but he knew by now that someone had to have fallen through the cracks. They weren’t being careful enough. Maybe a simple break-in to the Peruvian Embassy would be easier, or even an actual trip to Lima. He’d have to ask someone if the Quinjet had been returned yet. Howard was having way too much fun with the damn thing, and he still hadn’t gotten any closer to making another.
He’d gotten to know Daisy much better since they’d started dating, but May was still an enigma to him. The most she’d ever spoken to him was to threaten his life if he ever hurt Daisy (which he would never do), and that had been one of the most terrifying experiences of his life. She seemed to respect him, though, and approve of their relationship. For now, that was good enough for him. Maybe she’d open up more in time, maybe not. He didn’t want to risk his life by trying to talk to her more often than she wished.
Daniel was pulled out of his thoughts by a knock on his door, and he called for whoever it was to enter. The door swung open, and he absent-mindedly looked up, only to freeze. Jack Thompson was standing in his doorway, looking angrier than Daniel had ever seen him. He hadn’t seen his friend in well over a year, but they’d kept in touch before his ‘death’. Ever since Peggy’s brother had shot him in the chest, he’d been working at Camp Lehigh, too far to see Daniel with any regularity. By the time he’d recovered from the bullet wound, that asshole Flynn had been given the New York office. He knew he was in for it, and Thompson had every right to be pissed, but he could explain. Almost none of his friends knew he was alive- just Peggy and Friedman, if either of them counted as friends, and not just an ex and a work acquaintance. Daniel swallowed thickly, and tried to put on a cheery demeanor.
“Hey Jack, how’s the lung?”
“Really? How’s the lung? That’s all you have to say for yourself? Do you have any idea what the last six months have been like?” Oh he wasn’t just pissed, he was livid, and heartbroken. His forehead was twitching as he yelled.
“I can explain-”
“I don’t need your goddamn explanations, Sousa. Fuck you. I know what happened, Marge filled me in this morning. Hydra’s back, your life was saved by some of Carter’s agents but you faked your death, you’re running the squid-killing squad. I don’t give a shit. Do you know what I’ve been up to?”
“No. No, I don’t.” Daniel accepted that he was just going to have to ride out Jack’s temper.
“Marge put me in charge of the investigation into your death. I’ve been running all over the damn country looking for answers. You didn’t tell me anything. Carter didn’t tell me anything. Your mother’s barely stopped crying, your sister’s a mess, your brother’s so pissed he can barely see straight. Your nieces and nephew- oh, Ethel’s pregnant, by the way. They want to name the kid after you, Daniel or Daniela. None of the kids really understand what happened. I’ve been spending a lot of time with the Sousas lately. Now I’m gonna have to lie to them, and keep telling them you’re dead. We hunted down and murdered a dozen Soviet spies, left them in ditches with their hands and feet bound and bullets in their brains, and not one of them said a word about who killed you. Now I find out it wasn’t the Reds at all.” Oh god, his family. He’d tried not to think about them, every time he did he wanted to curl up in a ball and sob. His brother Will, who’d already lost his wife, and had two girls to take care of. His brother Ben and his wife Ethel, who were going to name a kid after him, because they thought he was dead. His baby sister Camila, who he’d missed more than any of them when he moved to LA and she stayed in New York. And his parents and grandmother, who’d had the rug pulled out from under them for a second time. When Daisy and May had saved him, but told him he couldn’t tell anyone he was alive, his first thought had been for his family. He had the luxury of a close, loving family, most of them in or around New York, and plenty of cousins in Idaho. He missed them terribly, and worried for them whenever he allowed himself to. Someday soon, he hoped, they’d make enough progress in the hunt for HYDRA so he could see them again. Maybe he’d introduce them to Daisy, even. At least Jack had been kind to them in his absence.
“Jack-”
“I know, Sousa. I know. Just… fuck you. Pour me a fucking drink.”
“It’s three in the afternoon.”
“Don’t give me lip, you owe me a whole lot more than one for pulling this stunt.” He had a point. Daniel grabbed the bottle of whiskey that he and Daisy sometimes shared (she preferred vodka, but he’d managed to explain to her that drinking vodka in the US intelligence service would make her a suspected Russian spy) out of its cabinet, along with two glasses. He poured them both generous portions, and Jack downed his instantly.
“Jesus fucking Christ. The audacity of you, Sousa. I can’t even deal with this.” Daniel had to suppress a snicker, Daisy had taught him the Millennial-ness of the phrase ‘I can’t even’, and why that was funny.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say, but… I am, really. Tell me about them. Please?”
“Fuck off, you’ll see them yourself soon enough, or else I’ll kill you for real. You don’t deserve your family. Sousa. They’re all nicer than you.” Daniel waited, and Jack relented after a moment, pouring himself another finger of whiskey. He talked for about a minute about his nieces, Will’s kids, and Camila’s son. It was enough to bring Daniel to tears, but he took a sip of his drink to stop himself from sobbing. He’d rarely managed to get back to New York and see them even before his near-death experience, but he missed them all even more now. When Jack ended his spiel, he tipped his chin at Daniel. “So, what’s been going on in your secret base? Lots of dead squids?”
“Yeah, pretty much. It’s been chaotic to say the least. We’ve made good progress, though. Honestly better than I expected. My initial report was haphazard compared to what we’ve got now.”
“Yeah, I saw your red-string board downstairs, and the Howling Commandos you’ve got working on it. Impressive.” Daniel sighed, and finished off his glass, setting it down on his desk.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re here for business and not just to catch up, Jack.”
“I need an agent who can take out five heavily armed men without a problem, preferably a woman who they’ll underestimate and let get too close. Marge told me you’ve got a couple agents who fit that description and need to prove themselves.”
“They don’t actually need to prove themselves, they’ve done that plenty already, even if Peggy and Phillips disagree. I’ll ask Louise if she can spare the time- she and her mom are the agents who saved me.” Talking about work. He could do this. He could focus, and cry about his family later.
“I’d prefer to speak with her before I leave- do you want me to go find her? You look like you’re in pain, Sousa.” His leg had been hurting all day, but he wasn’t gonna admit that. The stairs up to this fucking office were the worst.
“A bit, but I’ve got an easier way. A gift from Howard.” Daniel slid open his desk drawer, and pulled out a tuning fork. Howard had set it to a frequency that Daisy could easily detect, but no regular human would be able to hear. It had taken some tinkering, but Howard had obsessed over the idea of Daisy being able to detect vibrations, he’d spent an hour raving to Daniel about how she was a one-woman sonar and metal detector. Daniel tapped the fork against the desk, and felt it buzz in his hand, but it produced no sound that he could hear.
“How is a broken tuning fork supposed to help?”
“Lou can hear at a slightly wider frequency than most humans.”
Within thirty seconds, the door swung open, and Daisy strolled in. Her gaze flicked over to Jack, sizing him up. Daniel’s old friend was too busy gaping open-mouthed at her and the tuning fork to notice, his head swiveling back and forth like a broken owl.
“You called, Daniel? Who’s the new guy?”
“Lou, meet Jack Thompson. He needs an agent with your skill set for an op, but if you’re not available then your mother’s an option too. Jack, meet Louise Wen.” Jack managed to gather his composure and extend a hand for her to shake. Daisy took it, then sat on Daniel’s desk, facing Jack.
“Pleasure to meet you, Agent Wen.”
“Sure, I’ve been cooped up here too long, and I owe Carter a few favors. What’s the mission?”
“A fence who specializes in stuff that should not be on the streets. We need one agent who can take out five men without a gun. Marge recommended you.” Even with her back turned, Daniel could picture the vicious grin on his girlfriend’s face. If the way the blood rushed out of Jack’s face was any indication, he was terrified by it, as most sane people would be.
“When do we leave?”
“I leave now, to go home. I’ll send someone to pick you up here-” he passed Daisy a slip of paper, which she stuffed into a pocket, “-at noon on the 19th.”
“I’ll be there.”
Jack nodded his acknowledgement, stood, and cast Daniel an inscrutable look that was perhaps a moment longer than it needed to be.
“I’ll see you soon, Sousa. Don’t die again.” If Daniel hadn’t known better, he’d have said Jack was blinking back tears.
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
He turned and left without another word. As soon as the door closed, Daisy swiveled around on the desk, facing Daniel. She examined him for a moment, then leaned back on her hands and raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin forming on her lips. He knew she could tell something was off, and was trying to distract him. He appreciated the effort.
“So. Thompson’s pretty cute, and you two have known each other for a long time. Did you ever…” He’d never quite confessed his sexuality to Daisy, but she’d understood regardless. At some point, she’d just realized, or maybe she’d always known. She’d never said a word in public, and never interrogated him seriously, only poked fun at his terrible taste in men, and for that, he was incredibly grateful to her. That didn’t make the accusation any less insulting, however. Jack might be a friend, but he was also the fucking worst.
“No,” he bit out.
“Not even once? You never got drunk or bored on a stakeout or something?”
“I tried to kill him once. Wanted to kill him more than once. But no.” Midnight Oil had been absolutely terrifying, and there were still nights he woke up in a cold sweat with the taste of the gas in his mouth, the feeling of his throat sealing shut, and red-hot bloodlust pounding in his skull.
“You definitely thought about it though.” Of course he wasn’t getting out of this that easily. He shot his girlfriend a dirty look, and her smile just widened. He rolled his eyes, and conceded defeat. He could never withstand Daisy’s smile for long.
“A bit, before I got to know him. He’s a douchebag.” It had taken about a week at the New York SSR office for him to realize that Jack Thompson was the absolute wrong person there to have a crush on.
“I noticed. Who the hell is Marge?”
“That’s what he calls Peggy. He’s the only one who does that, used to make her get the lunch orders for the New York SSR office.”
“I’m sure she took that well.”
“When he came crawling back, begging for forgiveness after getting tangled with the Council of Nine, she made him take the dinner orders. His expression was priceless.”
“Did he do it?”
“Reluctantly, but yes. She’s never fully trusted him since, though. He can’t know about your powers, I told him you just have sensitive ears, that’s why you heard the fork.”
“I figured, with the alias and whatnot. I’ll be fine, I was a badass before I had powers.”
“I’ve met your mother. If she trained you, I believe it.”
“You can’t just take me at my word, Sousa?”
“You did start our first meeting by lying to me.”
“And I was damn good at it. I had the great Daniel Sousa fooled and wrapped around my little finger with the oldest cover story in the book and a fake ID.”
“Yeah, you did. Still do.” Something in his voice must have given him away, because she leaned forward and squeezed his hand. The faint vibrations were comforting as always. It had taken her months to learn his tells, but by now she could read him like a book
“Do you need to talk about what’s bothering you?”
“I’ll be okay. Jack’s been spending time with my family since I’ve been… gone. I miss them, but it’s only temporary.” Not like Daisy and her family. Seeing them again was an if for her, not a when .
“You know, in 2019 we’d call that trivialization, or cognitive distortion.” At his raised eyebrow, she explained; “foster kids deal with a lot of social workers, which means a lot of therapy speak. It’s okay to be in pain, Daniel. Both physical,” she pointed at his leg, “and emotional. Don’t pretend like it isn’t there.”
“I’m the CO, at least on paper. I’ve gotta put on a brave face for the troops.”
“You’re in your office, alone, with your girlfriend, who is also the CO, at your insistence. It’s alright if you’re not ready to talk- and you don’t have to, ever. But don’t bottle shit up if you don’t have to, alright? 1950s masculinity is a bitch.” Daniel agreed, in principle anyway. In practice, he still had difficulty being as frank as Daisy often was. That was one of many things he admired her for. He was getting better, though.
“You’re right, as always. 2019 sounds like it’s a lot better when it comes to not going crazy.”
“Depends on the day. Can I do something about your leg, at least? I don’t need to sense the vibrations to tell it’s hurting you.” He nodded. That much, at least, he could let her handle without feeling weak. She pointed a finger at his stump, and a small, gentle wave of vibrations emanated from Daisy’s fingertip. Over the last few months she’d perfected the most accurate, relieving, and comforting physical therapy massage he’d ever experienced, capable of loosening up his leg with just a few seconds of vibrations. The relief was instantaneous and nearly overwhelming, and after a few moments he was in far less pain than he’d been before.
“Thank you, Dais. I’ll be ready to talk more, I think. Soon. But I do know my family would love to meet you, when I come out of hiding. If you’d like that.” She seemed to hesitate for a moment, then launched herself into his arms, nearly knocking over the chair. He just chuckled and rubbed her back, and she kissed his cheek in return. “We’re both pretty fucked up, huh.”
“Yup. Absolutely. But at least we’re hot.”
February 11, 1956
Paul Arthurs was a simple, solid man. He was not often prone to fits of anger, bouts of depression, or spasms of anxiety. Those whom he considered friends, and they were few, would say that it was all but impossible to get him to laugh, or smile. If after a few drinks he chuckled at a joke, his friends hailed a great victory for whoever had told it. His boss knew this about him, it was why he’d been chosen for this task. He’d come home from the war awed and terrified by the weapons he’d seen HYDRA deploy on the European front. Watching his comrades disintegrate had horrified him, but that horror was laced with a rare fascination. He’d never cared much for those comrades anyway. He’d become singularly obsessed in the following years with that sort of power, power not of this Earth, and with the capacity to do far more than any human could accomplish alone. He’d made inquiries, after the war. Tried to find out as much as he could. There were enthusiasts, hobbyists, collectors, amateur and professional scientists who specialized in the occult. He’d heard whispers of a book called the Darkhold, containing terrible power and every answer imaginable. Rumors of a warrior, an Aesir, who’d stayed behind on Earth when his people’s war was over, and left a powerful weapon behind. A man with a flaming skull who roamed the West Coast over the centuries, on a horse with fiery eyes or a burning motorbike, killing the wicked. The Tesseract, the source of HYDRA’s powers, now in the SSR’s hands.
He’d made quiet enquiries about the Tesseract, once he learned what it was. After a year, a man approached him on the street. He said he worked for HYDRA, and offered him a job inside the SSR. He promised him everything he’d ever wanted. So of course, Arthurs accepted. He’d spent the last eight years working for the SSR, then SHIELD, and all the while reporting to the man who’d recruited him, named Wilfred Malick. Malick had shown him the treasures he possessed, the alien trinkets and weapons and mysteries that had fulfilled all his desires. Even a pillar of stone that turned to rippling oil as he watched. It was wonderful. When, a few months ago, Malick had approached him with an assignment, Paul had of course listened. He said it called for a man who didn’t feel as strongly as others did, but promised access to an actual alien, and their technology, upon completion of his mission- as long as he could bury his excitement. He had readily agreed. Malick told him that there was a base full of SHIELD agents, hunting HYDRA down like dogs. Their connection had never been put to paper, so Paul was safe- except for SHIELD’s last line of defense. Previous attempts at infiltration had failed, and Malick thought this might be because they had a woman who could sense the intentions of those around her by feeling their heartbeats. Arthurs had shaken her hand on his second day on the base, a week after he’d been approached by Agent Carter about a top-secret, off-the-books assignment. He felt nothing but boredom, and saw that she learned nothing. Even his victory didn’t bring any satisfaction to the surface that may have quickened his heart. He was better than that. He’d met the woman’s mother as well, and though she’d eyed him suspiciously, she seemed to do that to everybody. For now, his cover was secure.
He had been, so far, unable to pass any reports to his superiors. Communication was difficult from within the confines of this base, and he wasn’t even sure where precisely he was. But, in time, he would learn. For now, he had a mission to accomplish. And one day, unexpectedly, the opportunity he was awaiting fell into his lap. The Playground, as he had learned this base was called, had several holding cells. Most were stuffed full of HYDRA lowlifes captured by SHIELD, locked away for interrogation whenever it was convenient. One contained alien technology, taken from Malick’s home. As badly as Paul wanted access to this room, it was sealed shut. Only Chief Sousa and the women who he had confoundingly decided to share command with the powered woman- who also seemed to be Sousa’s girlfriend- and her mother had access. Even the two Howling Commandos who worked for Sousa weren’t allowed in. He’d done his best to avoid all three of them over the weeks he’d been assigned here, and been largely successful. Despite his failure at accessing the Vault, he’d been assigned today to bring a meal to the only prisoner here worthy of his own cell.
He carried the tray of rubbery chicken and flabby potatoes down to the cell, and the guard on duty let him pass. Werner Reinhardt barely looked up when he entered, but he moved to the small table and began to eat when Paul set down the tray. He was supposed to stay for the duration of the meal, to make sure he didn’t purposefully choke himself or slip a utensil up his sleeve. After a moment, when he was sure the guard at the door wasn’t listening, Paul leaned close to the general’s ear and whispered two words.
“Hail HYDRA.”
Reinhardt froze, put down his utensils, and slowly turned to look Paul in the eye. A grin quickly spread across his face, and a twinkle lit his usually-lifeless eyes.
“Cut off one head, and two more shall take its place. Who sent you, my friend?”
“Wilfred Malick. He thought that since you and I share a passion for the super-terrestrial, you might appreciate the company.”
“Then we have much to discuss. I have some information about my captors that Mr. Malick will be very interested to hear. I don’t suppose you’re here to facilitate my escape?”
“Soon. Mr. Malick says the time isn’t right just yet, but it will be.”
“That will have to be enough for now. Go now, my friend, before the guard gets too suspicious. We will speak again soon.”
“I hope we do, sir. There’s so much I want to learn from you.”
“There is only one way to learn. Discovery requires experimentation. And I have an opportunity in mind already. How much do you know about the younger Agent Wen?”
February 20, 1956
Daniel climbed the steps to his office at the end of a very long day. He was turning 37 in four days, and felt every single one of those years. There were too many new agents around for May to easily verify, but that was the least of his concerns. He missed Daisy, even though she’d only been gone a day and a half. There’d been no news from Jack, but in this case, no news was good news. He was sure it had all gone to plan. And sure enough, when he opened the door he found Daisy curled in a ball on the office’s couch, looking at something on her phone. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her, as it always did, and she smiled warmly at him in greeting.
“Hey sweetheart, how was Jack’s op?”
“You weren’t kidding, he’s a douchebag, but he’s smart. We got to the fence easily, I took out the guards before they even saw me coming.”
“You know, for some reason, that doesn’t surprise me at all.”
“You’re biased, Sousa.”
“Damn right.” He joined her on the couch, pressing a light kiss to her cheek, then frowned in mild confusion at the device in her hands. There was a full-color picture on the screen- he was still amazed that it could do that- of a woman who he recognized as Jemma Simmons, the one who’d impersonated Peggy at Area 51, and a scruffy-looking, light-haired man. They were both wearing a style of clothes she’d never seen before- odd shirts and pants, that looked just different enough from the norm of the day that it was definitely from the future. “That’s one of those future cell-phones, right?”
“Yeah, the battery still works, I just can’t use it very often, or else it’ll wear out. I’ve got a lot of photos on here of my friends.”
“Woah. You can keep more than a few photos on that thing?”
“I can store thousands.” He couldn’t even formulate a response, just stared at her open-mouthed. Future technology was insane, he’d assumed the phone stored maybe a dozen images, tops. Daisy just laughed at him.
“Dork.”
“I… don’t know what that means.”
“Exactly.” He returned his attention to the screen, lest he get laughed at again.
“Who’s the guy with Simmons?”
“Oh, that’s Fitz, her sort-of-husband. The one who’s controlling the time jumps. We’re not supposed to know where he is, but apparently we’ll get to see him when the mission’s over.” The pain and longing in her voice was heartbreaking, and he couldn’t help but wrap an arm around her shoulder. She leaned into him, but didn’t take her eyes off the phone, instead scrolling to the next photo, one that showed Daisy, Mack, and Rodriguez laughing over drinks. She looked a bit younger, and her hair was shorter and darker than he was used to from her. Daisy was wearing modern clothes too, and they suited her- a black leather jacket and shirt were all he could make out in the photo, but she was as beautiful as ever, although she seemed to be more in her element, even if she did look somewhat strained. He took comfort in the faint buzzing under Daisy’s skin, the vibrations he knew she only let bleed out when she was comfortable.
“You miss them.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“You’ve told me stories, but I still don’t know a lot of the details.” Daniel was, if nothing else, an excellent interrogator, and he knew exactly how to get people to talk. Daisy smiled sideways at him, knowing exactly what he was doing, but she happily took the bait anyway. She’d been separated from all but one of the most important people in her life for seven months, she deserved to rave about her friends and pseudo-family.
So Daisy told him about those most important to her. She showed him pictures of her team, as they are and as they were. There were names and faces she'd mentioned offhand before, but without much detail: Antoine Tripplet- Jones’s grandson- Joey Gutierrez, Bobbi Morse, Lance Hunter, countless Koenigs that even she couldn’t tell apart, Piper, Davis. Others she’d spoken of at greater length, and now he had a face to go with it: Deke Shaw, Fitz, even Lincoln Campbell. She talked about her family and friends for hours, filling in the gaps of the stories she’d told him before. He finally came to understand the details of her journey into space, why there were two Fitzes (one of whom was dead), the team of Inhumans she’d once led, and the confusing wonders of 21st century fashion. He talked on occasion, asking questions for clarification or prompting her to give more detail on a story or person that seemed to particularly excite her. Sometimes he offered distractions or redirected her from incredibly painful stories: The Fitzsimmons wedding, and the difficult days that followed, was a particularly tough one. He couldn’t help his fury at how her ‘friends’ had treated her, with even Simmons defending her husband cutting Daisy open, but since she seemed to have forgiven Simmons, he kept quiet about it for now. He’d chew the scientist out if he ever met her again.
She missed her friends and family, that much was clear, but she’d clearly missed being able to talk about them and exist as herself too. May wasn’t one for reminiscing, and by being stuck in the past she was cut off from what mattered most to her. Daisy had a smile on her face even through some truly horrifying memories, and even when talking about Lincoln. Daniel certainly had big shoes to fill, in that regard. It wasn’t Lincoln’s heroics that made the biggest impression, however. It was Daisy’s. He’d known the vague outline of how she’d saved the world several times, but every detail he coaxed out of her about her own accomplishments awed him. She’d testified before Congress, taken down a terrorist group, saved SHIELD’s ass, distributed bad people’s money to the deserving, saved countless lives. All with complete selflessness. He’d known from the day they’d met that she was one-of-a-kind, the sort of hero that the world was lucky to see once every hundred years. This just proved it. How had he gotten so lucky?
When her stories tapered off and she finally fell asleep against his shoulder, phone still in her hand, he didn’t dare move. He used his cane to drag a stack of paperwork over to him, and did what work he could, while Daisy purred like a cat beside him. That was a thing she could do, apparently. It was better than snoring. He let himself, for a moment, dare to imagine a future with her, where she didn’t have to leave at a moment’s notice some day to reunite with the team she loved so dearly. A future where they could get married, work for SHIELD together and have a normal, domestic life otherwise. It was terrifyingly easy. Daniel wanted to spend as much time with her as he could get, but that was out of his hands. So for now, he decided to just enjoy the moments he had. And even if she disappeared tomorrow and they never saw each other again, he wouldn’t regret a thing. Daisy was worth it.
Notes:
Okay, so, got a few more notes this week. I'm gonna move the updates down from twice a week to once a week. I'm not gonna have much time to write starting fairly soon, so doing that will let me build up a stockpile and keep updates consistent. I have no idea how to resolve the whole 'Michael Carter, who's a war criminal, shot Jack in the chest' thing so I'm just keeping it as vague as possible. Use your imagination. Paul Arthurs is an excellent example of why I try to limit my OCs/side characters/background to as little importance as possible, because I'm so bad at coming up with names that I named him after Simon and Garfunkel. Daniel's family is an exception- they'll all be showing up down the road.
Next week: the last chapter of 1956, set from April-July!
Chapter 12
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
April 14, 1956
If someone had asked Daisy in 2015 where she thought she’d be in five years, ‘arguing with Peggy Carter in 1956’ wouldn’t have even been a possibility. She, Carter, and May were in a conference room on the Playground, sitting around a circular table.
“I need you in Colorado tomorrow morning, Agent Johnson. That’s an order.”
“And I need to be in a lovely little town outside of Dresden. Want me to bring you any souvenirs?”
With Daniel away setting up another HYDRA-free base in New Mexico for a few days (it was unfair how much she missed him, it hadn’t even been a week), Daisy and May were in charge of the Playground in his absence. Carter and Phillips had reluctantly accepted their positions when they realized how much their subordinates had come to respect them, but Daisy had never been big on respecting hierarchies, or chain of command, or all that fun stuff. Carter wanted her to guard an 0-8-4 that would be landing at Peterson Air Force Base before being transported to a secure SHIELD bunker in the Rockies. Peggy was overseeing the transport herself, but was still demanding Daisy come along. On the other hand, Daisy had just been given a report by Agent Arthurs on an intercepted phone call from the current Baron Von Strucker to Zola. He’d revealed the current location of the Von Strucker family monolith fragment: one of their family faults in East Germany.
“This pet project of yours is low priority and you know it. This is the first 0-8-4 we’ve found since learning about HYDRA’s presence in SHIELD, and we can’t allow it to fall into their hands. There’s not many skills field agents that I trust to not be traitors. You’re the most capable combatant we have, even without your powers, that can be spared.”
“I can’t be spared, I need to be in Germany. We won’t get another opportunity like this for who knows how long, and I’m the only one who can destroy these things. They’ll probably move it the second HYDRA figures out we know where it is. Anybody can guard a truck convoy.”
“I could go instead,” May offered.
“I need you here, Agent May. Your actions on the Peruvian mission were vital, but you’re the most experienced SHIELD agent alive, you’ve been with us longer than SHIELD and the SSR have existed. With Daniel and Daisy away, you’ll need to stay here and oversee Project Hercules.” Daisy got the feeling that her mom was tired of field work anyway. Her leg had never fully healed after the Lighthouse, and she’d already retired from the field twice. She needed a break.
“Why not send Dugan with a team, instead of me?”
“Dugan’s a brawler and a soldier. You’re a Specialist. According to your mother, those won’t even exist for another twenty years. The real question is why you see fit to argue with a direct order from your superior officer?”
“Because nothing is more dangerous than those fragments! What is the 0-8-4, anyway?”
“I think if they knew, Daisy, it wouldn’t be an 0-8-4.” Daisy glared at her mother- when had she picked up Coulson’s tendency towards dad jokes?
“Roughly five cubic centimeters of a metallic liquid that moves of its own accord, and has a tendency to float. It was found in a small crater in the Yukon along with other metals that are decidedly not of this Earth. It somehow killed the first team that tried to contain it, smashed them against rocks like ragdolls. We can’t let HYDRA figure out how to weaponize it.” Daisy and her mom exchanged a worried look, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Gravitonium. She’d never be able to forget the feeling of Talbot enveloping her with it, tendrils of flowing metal creeping up her arms and face, threatening to absorb her.
“Agent Carter, I can’t be anywhere near that stuff.”
“You know what it is?”
“I do.”
“Will you tell me?”
“It’s very, very dangerous. You can’t control it, no one can. But my powers would be amplified a thousandfold by it, I could crack the planet apart if I punch someone hard enough. I can’t go with you, send me to Germany,” she pleaded. The downside of working on expanding the uses of her powers over the last few months was that it had become second nature to her, even more so than when she’d simply used them for combat. She couldn’t rely on not using them now. Even if it wouldn’t be noticeable to those around her, it still might set off the Gravitonium.
“She’s right. It’s far too risky,” May added.
“You’ve been given an order, Agent Johnson. Obey it. As I said, I didn’t expect you to use your powers on this mission anyway, I need your combat skills.”
“You don’t understand, my powers are part of me, it’s like a sixth sense and an extra limb all in one. It’s not that simple, and I won’t take the risk.”
“When will the two of you learn that you’re not in charge of SHIELD here? I don’t care about your ranks in the future, I need your help to save countless lives. If this thing is as dangerous as you say, I need the most skilled definitively non-HYDRA agent we have. That’s you. And if you can’t control your powers enough to avoid turning Colorado into a pancake, then perhaps you shouldn’t be fighting for SHIELD at all. Maybe some tests are in order to figure out just how strong you are?” Daisy looked to her mom for backup, knowing she could sense her fear. She’d been expecting SHIELD to demand a blood sample or something, and they hadn’t so far, but if they found out exactly what she was, Inhumans everywhere would be in danger. May switched to Chinese, keeping the vocabulary as basic as possible, since Daisy hadn’t been learning for very long.
“ Talbot needed much more of it to destroy the world. Just be careful, and go. It’s too dangerous not to.”
“I can’t see it again, mom. The memory hurts.”
“I know. But her threat is real, she wants to take our blood. We have to play the long game.”
“I speak many languages, but Chinese is not one of them. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t conspire directly in front of my face.”
“I’ll go. I’ll send Dugan to Germany,” Daisy lied. Thankfully, Peggy seemed convinced.
“I expect to see that fancy plane of yours at Peterson tomorrow.” She nodded and left without another word. May looked pointedly at Daisy, no doubt sensing her dishonesty, but said nothing until Carter was gone.
“Good luck. If anything goes wrong, it’ll be on your head.”
“I know, but I don’t have a choice.”
“Can you fly the Quinjet to Germany on your own?”
“You’re a good teacher. I’ll be alright.”
What Carter and May didn’t understand was that she wasn’t just trying to save the world from Hive, she was trying to save herself. She was still an addict in recovery, and after so many years she had no idea if Lash’s protection would still hold. Hive could do terrible things if he returned to Earth, yes, but more terrifying was the possibility that she might do them for him. Until the day she could look in the mirror and tell herself with complete and total honesty that she wouldn’t fall to her knees and beg again if he returned, she’d stop at nothing to maintain that monster’s exile. She couldn’t hurt any of her loved ones again, like she had last time. She couldn’t let Daniel die for her the way Lincoln had, to set her mistakes to rights. She heard May suck in a breath, and realized too late that her mom could sense everything she’d just felt. Before she could say anything, she was wrapped in a tight hug.
“None of it was your fault, Daisy. You weren’t yourself, and you are now. This? Chasing down leads to the end of the Earth to save lives? This is you.”
“I won’t let it happen again. Any of it.”
“I know you won’t. They didn’t die for nothing.”
“Lincoln-”
“Made his choice. He chose to save your life. Now you’re choosing to make sure no one else will have to sacrifice themselves. No more Lincolns. No more Andrews.” Daisy nodded into her mom’s shoulder, and somehow managed not to cry.
April 15, 1956
When Dugan instead of Johnson had shown up with the tac team she’d requested, in a standard Air Force plane instead of the one from the future, Peggy was furious. That anger had only grown when HYDRA attacked their convoy almost immediately, as she’d expected, and Dugan’s team had been insufficient to stop them from seizing the strange metal. HYDRA was in and out so fast she barely even saw them, and wasn’t able to count how many attackers there were before she took a bullet to the leg and was down for the rest of the fight. In fact, they’d moved so quickly she’d only actually seen a single operative: a man with long, dark hair dressed in all black, with a face mask and a metallic arm. He fought in a way that felt oddly familiar, and only later did she realize it reminded her of Dottie Underwood and the little girl at Leviathan’s creepy base, though with a strength she’d only ever seen in Steve. Peggy suspected who it was, but hoped she was wrong. Knowing intellectually that the Winter Soldier was out there and having to face him were two very different things. She and Dugan had been powerless to stop him, but an enhanced Specialist like Johnson probably could have. No one had even been killed, although several had been wounded. HYDRA just went straight for the box storing the weapon, and left immediately. It must be quite powerful to warrant such treatment, and now it was in the enemy’s possession. Johnson’s presence could’ve made all the difference. Now, because of her, Peggy was stuck in a SHIELD medical facility, a throng of familiar but unwelcome faces about. She tuned them all out, everyone wanted her attention for some reason or another, all of them would have to wait. Ignoring the pain, she got through their updates, questions, and requests for orders one by one, until there was only one person left.
“I would like to speak with Agent Wen alone for a moment.” The other agents dutifully filed out, while Johnson shifted uncomfortably on the balls of her feet.
“Did you at least get the fragment?” Hive sounded dangerous enough that Peggy saw the value in destroying the Monolith fragments; she likely would’ve made the same decision as Johnson were she ten years younger. But Johnson’s singular obsession with them was dangerous. She wanted to protect the world, sure, but Peggy knew it was mostly about avenging her dead boyfriend. She was too impulsive, too reckless. She’d been successful so far, so Peggy had allowed her some leeway, but those days were over now.
“No. The vault was empty, filled with explosives. It was a trap. I made it out, and we nailed the guy who gave us the intel. Turns out one of our agents was a HYDRA spy. My mom’s interrogating him now.” That explained quite a bit, but it was terrifying how quickly HYDRA had slipped through her careful defenses. She’d been so meticulous in vetting the agents she’d assigned to Hercules, and fruitlessly. The list of agents she could depend on to not be HYDRA was growing ever-shorter. If only Johnson and May weren’t on it, she wouldn’t be forced to rely on them more generally, when she knew she couldn’t risk doing so under ‘normal’ circumstances.
“Who was it?”
“Arthurs.”
“Damn it.” Peggy rubbed at her forehead, this was too much bullshit to deal with even by her standards. She’d selected and vetted Arthurs herself. He’d lost friends to HYDRA during the war. What kind of monster must he be to side with them anyway?
“I’m so sorry Carter, this is all my fault. I fell into their trap, you got hurt for it, I-”
“I’ll heal.” She would be of no use to anyone beating herself up, even though this was entirely her fault. Peggy needed her cooperative, though, not moping.
“Don’t sugarcoat it, I fucked up.”
“Yes, yes you did. And you will never make another mistake like that again.” She heard the cold anger in her own voice, and knew it was perhaps too harsh, but no matter. Johnson would understand, and even if she didn’t, she’d put up with it.
“No, I won’t. I’m ready.”
“For what?”
“To be a good Agent. To not do everything on my own, and get people hurt for it. I’ll join the system, go through the levels, all that. No more vigilantism.” That was unexpected, but welcome. She was skilled, though not suited to making command-level decisions. If she actually did what she was told, she would be a stellar agent.
“Good. I would have forced you to if you hadn’t offered, but good.” Johnson chuckled weakly and buried her head in her hands.
“You got shot because I was reckless. I won’t let that happen again.”
“I should hope not, I’ve been shot too many times already.” Her attempt at humor was instinctual, and fell flat.
“I understand that you’ll never trust me again or forgive me. But I’ll try to earn that trust back.” Peggy sighed, and decided to be as direct as possible.
“Agent Johnson, I’ve never trusted you. I’ve trusted Daniel, and put my faith in his trust in you. It is a rare thing to see him proven wrong about someone’s character. I don’t know if he is wrong to love you. But he was certainly wrong when he said I could rely on you. I won’t make the same error twice.” She meant every word. Her old friend’s love for this woman was obvious, and she couldn’t blame him for that, but Phillips had been right: Daniel cared too much. He’d refused to let Peggy die years before when the mission would’ve been better off if she had, and his inability to be impartial about those closest to him hadn’t gone away since. He’d overestimated Johnson, probably because he loved her, and Peggy had taken a bullet for it.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t. But you’ll learn. You’ll be riding a desk for the next six months, minimum. And if I have any say in it, you’ll never have a command role again. The days of the informal triumvirate between you, your mother, and Daniel are over. I gave command to him, not you, for a reason. You’re here to fight HYDRA, and now they have another weapon in their arsenal, because of you. Clean up your mess.” If she were anyone else, Peggy would’ve just fired her on the spot, but she couldn’t afford to. She didn’t agree with Phillips’ philosophy of locking up the two time travellers, but she’d never trusted them. They were a means to an end, SHIELD’s best chance of uprooting HYDRA. Their foreknowledge and powers weren’t things that could be pried out of them in an interrogation, both were too well-trained for that, and by any metric they were among SHIELD’s top combatants. Peggy would not be surprised in the least to learn that Melinda May could defeat any SHIELD agent in hand-to-hand combat, or that Johnson could do the same without her powers. They were allies, and necessary ones. Treating them like enemies wouldn’t do anyone any good. Besides, they had saved Daniel’s life, and the intelligence they’d delivered was good enough for several promotions by most standards.
If Daisy could learn to be a subordinate rather than a Commander, and her mother fell in line too, their deal might still bear fruit. HYDRA could be eliminated, advanced technology acquired for SHIELD, and lives saved. If not, and she went rogue again, well… the Index existed for a reason. And she couldn’t exactly be allowed to live freely in this time period, not with her powers and all she knew. If Johnson and May didn’t cooperate, they couldn’t be allowed to leave SHIELD. She knew their intentions were good, and they wouldn’t attack SHIELD, but it was still too risky. Allowing them to keep quiet about the future and their backgrounds also only worked so long as they were firmly under SHIELD’s supervision. She highly suspected that Daniel knew far more about May and Johnson than he was willing to share, but he still trusted them. That counted for something- but he’d trusted Malick too. She’d give Johnson another chance, if only because she had no other choice, but she wouldn’t turn the blind eye that she had previously. Peggy also knew she’d have to find a way to get samples of May and Johnson’s blood, and have it analyzed. Johnson claimed to have an alien for a mother, which somehow gave her vibrational powers. The details of that definitely needed to be ascertained, as did the source of May’s empathic abilities. Was she an alien too? Was there an entire race of superpowered aliens that were also Chinese for some reason? That would’ve given poor General MacArthur a heart attack.
“Yes ma’am.”
“When Daniel gets back, send him and your mother here. I need to make sure they understand the new status quo.” Agent May, at least, was reliable. She’d claimed to be a trusted, high-level, legitimate SHIELD agent for decades, and her actions since that supported that claim. Her Peruvian Embassy intel had been invaluable, with some of it being fed to the Simon Wiesenthal Center as well as some being used by SHIELD. Peru had at least five Tesseract-powered weapons, and May had successfully led the first mission to take them, and the scientists who’d created them, into SHIELD custody. She was reliable. Johnson opened her mouth to protest the demand, then closed it, and just nodded. At least she had the decency to be ashamed of what she’d done. Peggy would get as many concessions and as much information out of her as possible before her guilt ran dry and she stopped cooperating. This woman was quite the handful.
“Now, I’m only going to ask you this once. I expect you to think very carefully before you answer, and to be completely honest with me. You knew what the 0-8-4 was. I didn’t care about how dangerous it might be when the plan was to lock it away, but now HYDRA has it. I need you to tell me everything you know about that substance.” Johnson swallowed hard, then nodded slowly.
“It’s called Gravitonium, it’s a super-dense element with the ability to influence gravity when exposed to electricity. It’s incredibly volatile, dangerous, and nearly impossible to control. It can be used for artificial gravity, or for weapons powerful enough to level armies and split planets. There’s no way you can control it, we couldn’t in my time, but HYDRA probably can with Chronicom tech. It’s also… alive, somehow, and stores the minds of whoever it absorbs. Yes, it can do that. It’s scary. My team and I first encountered it in Malta because of a scientist named…”
April 16, 1956
She’d gone to Germany full of easy confidence, expecting it to be just another mission. Walk into the HYDRA base, kill some Nazis, break a rock, walk out. Instead, she’d been met with enough explosives to level a city block, an otherwise-empty room, and a traitor in her home. Returning to the Playground and discovering that there was a HYDRA operative right under her nose had made the floor drop out from under her. She’d been too trusting, not nearly careful enough. Overconfident and hyper-focused, distracted and emotional. It had blinded her to a mole and a trap, and she refused to let that happen again. Now, she was pacing back and forth in Daniel’s office, anxiously waiting for him to get back from New Mexico. Flynn had called and briefed him on what had happened, and she was preparing herself for the argument she knew was coming. She had nothing to say in her defense, she would own up to it, so maybe argument wasn’t the right word, but she expected Daniel would be furious, and he should be. Daisy’s mistake had gotten Daniel’s ex, his friend, hurt, along with others. She’d made a stupid, reckless decision. He’d be pissed at her for her mistake, just like the foster family that had sent her back for breaking that decanter, just like Jiaying trying to kill her for not taking her side. Whatever they’d built together would be over, he wouldn’t be able to tolerate her presence after this. How could he?
She sensed him coming before the door opened, she could feel the staccato rhythm of his flesh leg, metal leg, and cane making their way up the stairs. Fuck, she should’ve done this on the ground floor. That was stupid of her, another mistake, more pain she inflicted on her boyfriend out of stupidity. When he opened the door, his eyes were sunken and his expression completely unreadable. The warmth she’d come to expect from him was there, but it was subdued as he met her gaze.
“Flynn told you what happened?” He nodded, and moved to take his seat.
“He said you disobeyed Peggy’s orders and a lot of people got hurt for it. You ran off instead of doing what you were supposed to, and now others are paying the price.” The iciness in his tone caught her off guard, and she choked back a sob. She refused to cry. If he wouldn’t yell, she wouldn’t cry.
“All true.”
“You broke the first rule of SHIELD: ‘Do as Peggy says’. You violated a direct order to go gallivanting around Germany. If she’d been killed- if any of them had been killed-”
“I know. I’m so, so sorry.” She deserved to be punished, demoted, and chewed out for this. He deserved his anger.
“How could you, Daisy? I vouched for you, I trusted your skills and motivations. I fought with my friends and allies over your capabilities, and I always took your side.” Her vision blurred when he raised his voice, and she came to dread even more what she knew was coming.
“I’ll make sure Arthurs pays for this, and I’ll stay out of the field, I’ll be a loyal agent. I meant what I said to Peggy.”
“Wait, Arthurs? What does he have to do with this?” Daisy blinked back her tears- did Flynn not tell him?
“He sold us out, he was HYDRA. Mom has him locked up. He fed us fake intel, said another Monolith cutting was in Germany-”
“ That’s why you went to Germany?” She couldn’t tell if he was astonished or angry.
“Yeah, and to avoid the Gravitonium.”
“ The Gravitonium ?” Now he really sounded furious, but Daisy managed to avoid flinching. No matter how angry he got, she knew Daniel would never hurt her.
“Yeah, the 0-8-4 Gravitonium Carter wanted me to guard.”
“That’s the weird metal stuff from the future that destroys the world when it’s combined with your powers, right?”
“Yeah…” She was confused. Didn’t he know all this already? Wasn’t he going to slam his fist on the table, or yell at her to get out, like he’d seemed like he was about to a moment ago. “I went to Germany to try to destroy the Monolith cutting, and sent Dugan to protect the Gravitonium, because I didn’t want to risk it. But it was stupid of me, I should’ve gone to Colorado instead. I could’ve just been careful, and no one would’ve gotten hurt.”
“Oh shit Daisy, I’m so sorry.” The warmth she was used to was back, and now she was just confused.
“For what? I made the mistake here? I almost got your ex and your friends killed.” He waved a hand dismissively, and looked at her with so much tenderness in his eyes that she almost forgot how to breathe, and her eyes welled up with tears.
“I didn’t have all the information. I would’ve made the same choice as you, Flynn’s just an asshole who only sent me the parts of the story that made you look bad. You deserve better than that, especially from me. I didn’t even know about Arthurs. You were fed false intel and made a decision to save the world instead of destroying it. Between your history with Gravitonium and what happened to Lincoln… I would never have sent you to Colorado. The only mistake you made was blaming yourself for what happened.” She just stared at him in astonishment. Why was he apologizing for… being unfair towards her? He’d been perfectly fair. Arguing with him about what she’d done had felt more right than being comforted by him for it. It was Carter who needed to be comforted, she’d been the one in the hospital. Carter had snapped at Daisy, as she’d had every right to. Daisy was lucky she wasn’t rotting in a cell alongside Arthurs.
“What?”
“I’m gonna talk to Peggy, Flynn said she wanted to speak with me and May anyway. You shouldn’t be stripped of command for something like this, it’s bullshit, I-”
“Daniel, please, she made the right decision. I shouldn’t be in the field. Don’t argue on my behalf.”
“You don’t have to be benched if you don’t want to be, but you did nothing wrong , Daisy. Phillips and Flynn give me too much credit for you and your mom’s work anyway.” He stood, and took a few tentative steps towards her.
“I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I don’t need it. I took on responsibility for people’s lives, and I dropped the ball.”
“You have it anyway. Hell, you don’t even need it.” Daniel reached out towards her, and took Daisy’s head in his hands, careful to avoid touching the angry scar behind her ear. She forced back a fresh wave of tears before collapsing into his chest, letting the familiarity of his vibrations envelop her. She still didn’t believe him, but it had been a rough few days. Plus, he wasn’t dumping her, so that was a relief.
“Please don’t go out on a limb for me,” she pleaded.
“Well, as the CO of this operation, it’s my responsibility to ensure my agents are surrounded by the best colleagues possible in the field, to make sure they stay safe. And any good leader uses the resources available to them most effectively.” She snorted, but could tell she wouldn’t win this argument.
“The Army teach you that?”
“Brooklyn Scout Troop 87,” he said with pride
“You were a Boy Scout?”
“We were kinda the bad boys of the Boy Scouts.” Even though she couldn’t see his face, since she was too busy sobbing into his shirt, Daisy could hear the smile in his voice. She laughed, and felt his heartbeat flutter when she did. Her tears started to slow, and she grabbed a tissue from the table next to her, somehow wiping her eyes while still in her boyfriend’s arms.
“I really don’t deserve your forgiveness. You were right to be angry.”
“Even if I was- and I wasn’t- I never should have yelled at you like that. I’m sorry.”
“Sousa-” He cut her off with a kiss that made her lightheaded and she decided arguing could wait.
“There’s nothing for me to forgive, Daisy. I should be the one begging for you to forgive me.”
“Kiss me again and I’ll consider it.” Daniel laughed and did as she asked.
July 2, 1956
Daisy woke up at 5am, like she always did, and pulled on loose, comfortable clothes. God, she missed sweatpants and sports bras. She’d been stuck behind a desk for two months now, her Tai Chi with May and occasional sparring with other agents was the closest she got to field work. She looked forward to it daily, and didn’t even need an alarm to wake up on time anymore. Daisy suppressed a yawn, then paused before her hand reached the doorknob. Her powers after rolling out of bed in the morning felt roughly equivalent to being bleary-eyed: she had to focus to push through the haze. There were at least a half dozen people standing outside her door, as well as some strange, oblong signatures she didn’t recognize. That couldn’t be good- had HYDRA infiltrated the base? Were they waiting for her, as an ambush? She padded quietly over to her drawer, sliding open the top row. Pushing aside some socks, Daisy pulled a combat knife out of a false bottom. She creeped back towards the door and quickly pulled it open. She simultaneously somersaulted into the hallway before coming up into a crouching position, knife up, just to drop it in shock. She wasn’t surrounded by heavily-armed HYDRA thugs, but instead the few agents on the Playground who she considered friends. May, Daniel, Friedman, Dugan, Jones, and Rose surrounded her, and they were armed with balloons rather than weapons. May even had a cake. Whose birthday was it?
May looked at her with a bemused smile while Daisy got to her feet, sliding the knife into her belt. Daniel was staring at her adoringly, and the others looked on the verge of laughter.
“Good form, nicely done. But you forgot what day it is, didn’t you?”
“Uh… Saturday?” Dugan doubled over with laughter, and Daniel rubbed at his forehead.
“July 2nd, honey. Happy birthday.” The old-fashioned terms of endearment her boyfriend used had grown on her much faster than she’d expected, and now she was repressing a sappy smile rather than rolling her eyes as she would have a few months ago.
“Oh shit. That’s embarrassing.” She was, what, 32? Time travel made things weird. She was technically negative 32. Best not to think about it too hard. “Thank you, all of you. I- I appreciate it.” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d celebrated her birthday, it must’ve been… 2015? The first birthday after she’d learned when it was. That one had been truly awful, she’d spent the whole day mourning her parents. Her last, in 2019, had been spent rushing back to Earth. Fun times all around.
“You’re getting a day off. Mandatory.” May used her classic ‘no arguments’ tone, but it didn’t stop her from trying.
“But-”
“No buts. You’re relaxing for a day. That’s an order.”
And so Daisy found herself in the Playground’s common room, which she associated with so many good memories, sipping champagne and eating (delicious) cake at 5:30 in the morning. Despite Carter having benched her for the foreseeable future, she’d maintained the respect of the agents who’d seen her fight, and the very select few who knew she was from the future. Rose wasn’t in the latter camp, so everyone had to continue calling her Louise, but still. It was nice to be celebrated, weirdly enough. Daisy had never had anyone do something like this for her.
“So, whose idea was all this anyway? I would’ve been more than happy with Tai Chi and a pizza or something.” She suspected the answer before she’d even asked, but her suspicions were confirmed when Jones pointed a finger at Daniel, who was sitting on the couch next to Daisy, his arm around her shoulder. Her boyfriend raised his hands in mock surrender, before looking to May.
“Mei’s the one who woke everybody up and got the cake, I just-” Daisy cut him off with a kiss, and half the room burst into mocking applause and laughter. She flipped them off, which just made everyone laugh more. When she pulled away, Daniel was blushing, which she took as a sign of victory.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome?”
Rose cackled and passed Daniel another slice of cake, which he happily accepted, if only because it hid his face. After a couple hours, more of the Playground’s dozen or so agents started to filter in, wishing Daisy a happy birthday and grabbing slices of cake or glasses of champagne, despite the early hour. Eventually, after the Tai Chi that she’d actually been looking forward to, her mother gave her a gift, without pomp or circumstance. All she said was,
“Happy birthday,” and handed her a small box. Daisy opened it to find a small golden daisy (the flower, not a miniature of her) on a thin chain. She had absolutely no idea when or how May had bought it, but it was beautiful. She put the necklace on, blinking back tears at the small, all-important reminder of who she was.
“Thanks, mom. For everything.”
“I’m proud of you, Daisy. Coulson would be proud of you.” Well. So much for not crying.
“I’m on desk duty for a reason.”
“You made a mistake. An understandable, reasonable mistake. You sent a capable and experienced soldier to do an important job, and sent yourself to do the job that only you could.” Daniel and May might still trust her, but they were in the wrong to do so. After Daniel learned the full extent of what had happened, he’d apologized profusely and gone out on a limb for her, even when she’d begged him not to. She didn’t deserve the sympathy and kindness her boyfriend and her mom offered.
“Carter says-”
“Screw Carter. Coulson thought you could lead. He had you set up a team, and you did it well. He made you director, and you did the best you could under insane circumstances. And you led a successful mission to space for a year. You’re a born leader, Daisy. Coulson saw that.”
“Yeah, well he made plenty of bad decisions too.” May just raised an eyebrow, waiting for Daisy to figure it out on her own. She sighed when she did so. Coulson made bad decisions, but selecting her to lead wasn’t necessarily one of them. Daisy had made bad decisions, but that didn’t mean she was entirely unfit to lead. May smiled softly when she saw the gears turn in Daisy’s head, and she left her in the sparring room to think. Daisy walked over to the punching bag, so she wouldn’t have to.
-
That evening, after a delicious Daniel-cooked dinner, Daisy was actually reading in her bunk. Jones had threatened her at knifepoint not to do any work for the day, after she refused to listen to May and Daniel’s warnings. She listened after that, their point was made. So she took some time to actually relax. She’d borrowed one of Daniel’s sci-fi novels, because he was a massive nerd and the 50s didn’t have computers, and had curled up around her pillows, leaning against the headboard. She was content, and sleepy, with a full stomach and May’s present around her neck. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a day so… nice , let alone a birthday. An enjoyable celebration, with a mother that loved her, on her real birthday. Everything she’d dreamed of as a child. There was a knock at the door, and she sensed Daniel’s presence on the other side. She lazily sent a vibration at the door in response, and he stepped inside, leaving the door about halfway ajar. There was a wrapped present in his free hand, and he smiled warmly at her.
“Hey. I love the new necklace. A gift from May?”
“Yeah. It was sweet of her.” Daisy fidgeted with the golden flower, already knowing it was gonna become a bad habit. “So. What’s in the box?” His smile broadened, and she closed her book, patting the empty half of the bed next to her. He hesitated a moment, but relented when she rolled her eyes at him. “I won’t bite. Much.” Daisy couldn’t help but cackle at his alarmed expression, but he eventually did sit next to her, propping up his cane against her bedside table, and handed her the gift.
“Happy birthday, Dais.” She unwrapped it, curiosity only growing as she found a large, thick, unmarked leather-bound book. Daisy couldn’t help but gasp when she saw the first page. It was a photo album- her photos, from her rapidly dying phone. Printed out, and in full color. She flipped through page after page, her awe and gratitude growing. A scan of the old picture of her as a baby, in Cal’s arms. The Secret Warriors, laughing after their first, semi-successful mission. Jemma and Fitz getting married, Daisy looking on with tears in her eyes as the woman she loved married a man who she was meant to be with, trying to be happy for her friend while shoving her own feelings aside. Lincoln, smiling into the camera. Her and May sparring. Bobbi and Hunter playfully arguing with Mack. Coulson, posing like a badass with Lola, his trademark sunglasses on. Even, at the end, a few pictures of herself, May, and Daniel she’d taken in the fifties. The last dozen or so pages were empty- room for new photos. Daisy was stunned into complete silence, and when she finally found her voice, she realized she was crying.
“How- how did you-”
“I had some help from May, she acquired your phone’s… she called it a ‘hard drive’, I think? and got it to Stark. Took him a little bit to figure it out, and he needed to use the tech from your fancy plane, but he got it sorted. Got the photos printed, sent them over to me.” He sounded slightly proud of himself, and he had every right to be. She’d been freaking out for months over being separated from her family, and her phone’s battery was starting to crap out on her. This wonderful man had managed to preserve all those memories, her last tie to home.
“How long have you been plotting this, Sousa?”
“Uhhh, a few months, on and off.” Months?? When was the last time someone had done anything remotely this kind for her? Being with Daniel was nothing like sleazy Miles, her childish enamoration with Katya the Russian hacker, manipulative Ward, or passionately angry Lincoln. He was kind, and reliable, and incredibly smart, and his dry humor always snuck up on her, and he was there for her no matter how dire the straits or how badly she’d fucked up. The only good thing about being stuck in the fifties was that he was there with her. He was a square, and a dork, and-
“I love you.” What the fuck had she just said? She hadn’t meant to- well, okay, maybe she had. She’d meant it, even if she hadn’t been able to vocalize it before. To anyone, ever. She’d never heard it in return, either, except through a staticky radio as the man who she loved died for her. He kissed her before he replied, and for a moment she was afraid she’d made a mistake, but when he rested his forehead against hers she realized that she should know better by now. Every time she’d made a step forward and then backpedaled, apologizing, he’d been there with open arms. She was about 95% sure he’d been waiting for months to tell her he loved her, and just hadn’t wanted to make her uncomfortable by doing so first. Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw the look in his eyes.
“I love you too.”
Notes:
Daisy needed a fair mix of happiness and misery, I think. Am I just using May and Sousa to voice my own frustrations with how Daisy sees herself and how everyone treats her? Yes, what of it.
Next week: March, 1957
Comments and kudos make me happy
Chapter 13
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
March 24, 1957
Wilfred rocked back and forth on his heels, anxiously awaiting… something. Phillips had called basically the entire Eastern Seaboard SHIELD top brass into the DC office for no discernible reason. He, Carter, Stark, Phillips, Flynn, and a few others were all in the bullpen, standing at the back of the room, along with a smattering of locally-stationed agents, all waiting at their desks. Whatever this was, it couldn’t be good. Command was making a show out of something, and if Malick hadn’t been informed in advance, it couldn’t be good for HYDRA. Ever since he’d been shot by Sousa, well over a year ago, he’d done as much digging as he could into what Sousa, Johnson, and May were up to. Arthurs had been a foot in the door, giving him some access to what he’d already suspected was around, but couldn’t be sure of. The existence of an anti-HYDRA project within SHIELD had been absolutely terrifying to learn about; especially given how successful Project Hercules had been so far. Malick had been forging new paths, making in-person deals with new contacts, distributing Chronicom technology to Zola and other less-notorious scientific allies, and building up Gothite Industries as much as possible. He’d shifted millions to overseas accounts, building HYDRA cells in second and third world nations outside of SHIELD’s purview and easy reach. The better part of two years, spent cleaning up his own mess, as quietly as possible. He’d eventually had to bring in the other Heads of HYDRA, of course, but only after he’d made enough progress that Sousa and future SHIELD couldn’t completely undo everything he’d spent a lifetime building. Revealing that Reinhardt was specifically in the custody of Project Hercules had almost gotten him executed, but he’d placated them by passing along information on how to develop the Gravitonium that Zola’s Winter Soldier had acquired. Losing Arthurs to SHIELD custody had been another blow, but a survivable one. He’d get another spy into their base soon enough. If this- gathering was about whatever progress Sousa had made, Hydra would survive, but Malick might not. That just wouldn’t do.
Because Wilfred had had absolutely awful luck these past couple years, the elevator dinged and some of his least favorite people stepped out. Sousa came first, flanked by Dum-Dum Dugan and Gabe Jones- which was certainly a way to make an entrance. The lower-level DC agents, those unaware of Sousa’s survival and knowing him only as the legend who’d been killed in the line of duty, fell silent. A hero, back from the dead, with two Howling Commandos following like bodyguards. If the fucker declared himself to be the Second Coming, half the idiots in the room would probably believe it. Sousa kept his expression carefully neutral, not even sparing a second glance for any of the high-level operatives or agents, although Dugan smiled broadly at Carter from under his moustache, and Jones waved to her. Never one to waste time, Phillips stepped forward and cleared his throat.
“Agent Sousa. Welcome back.” The two men shook hands, with Phillips clasping his left over Sousa’s right.
“Thank you, sir. It’s good to be back.” Sousa gave Phillips a small smile, but still offered no answers or explanations. What was going on? Where were Johnson and May?
“In conjunction with Agent Thompson and his team, Agent Sousa has been conducting a long-term, off-the-books investigation against Sino-Soviet intrusion. When we received intelligence about the Soviets’ plan to end Agent Sousa’s life, we faked his death so he’d have more room to maneuver. Obviously, he's still alive. And for his incredible success in rooting out the people that tried to kill him, he’s now in charge of the Counterintelligence division. Do you have anything to report, Agent Sousa?” Sousa smiled broadly, and Malick nearly pissed himself. That much confidence from him was a bad omen. Wilfred knew damn well that almost all of Sousa’s success was due to his buddies from the future, and that they were the only Chinese infiltrators he’d been ‘investigating’. He was up to something, this was a cover, but a believable one. If Phillips wanted to pin a medal on Sousa’s chest for Johnson and May’s work, it only made the three of them more dangerous. The DC office still had segregated bathrooms, the agents here would be much more willing to follow a renowned SHIELD hero, a war veteran miraculously back from the dead, than two Asian women no one had ever heard of.
“I do, Colonel. Agent Jones?” The Howling Commando pulled a gun out of his waistband and pointed it at- fuck. Saunders. He was one of Malick’s best operatives, and it was that skill that stopped Saunders from looking panickedly at Malick. To his credit, he just looked confused. Malick’s surprised expression, however, was genuine.
“Sir?”
“You’re a Commie spy, Saunders,” Dugan drawled, “Keep your hands where we can see them and you get to leave in cuffs instead of a bag.”
Now, Wilfred understood. SHIELD would tear HYDRA apart by claiming they were Soviets, until they could reveal the truth and fight an open war. The Cold War angle would work in the current political climate, a climate HYDRA had worked so hard to foster, and it would let SHIELD kill two birds with one stone. Sousa had been working with Carter for ages, she knew exactly what was going on, which meant Phillips probably did too. Fuck, he was so screwed. Saunders had the smarts to let himself get taken in by Dugan without a fight. He’d take his cyanide later, like the loyal agent he was. HYDRA had had to revert to the wartime practice of equipping all their operatives with the poison in recent months, as SHIELD captured more and more of them. Sousa smiled thinly, and watched with smug satisfaction as Dugan handed off his charge to a couple of shell-shocked Agents, before turning his attention to Wilfred.
“It’s good to see you again, boss. How’re the kids?” That bastard. How dare he bring Gideon and Nathaniel into this? Threatening his family, did he have no shame? They were just children, they wouldn’t be old enough to be involved with HYDRA for years. Wilfred was trying to protect them by siding with the Chronicoms, to save them and his future granddaughter from Alveus. Malick stepped forward, smiling broadly, and gave Sousa a hug. It would fit the fatherly demeanor he was often associated with among SHIELD agents younger than him.
“I’m going to kill everyone you’ve ever loved,” he hissed into Sousa’s ear, keeping a cheerful charade up for the benefit of the crowd. The younger man took a step back, offering Malick that infamous inscrutable smile of his. He fucking hated that smile.
“Same to you, sir.”
March 25, 1957
The next stop on Daniel’s resurrection tour (as Daisy liked to call it), was Camp Lehigh. The visit to DC had been solely for the purpose of announcing his survival, to scare the shit out of HYDRA and make them flail, and from the look on Malick’s face it had been absolutely successful. The more confused and on the back foot they were, the less chance they had of pulling a cohesive plan together. The visit to Camp Lehigh, on the other hand, was more practical than that: Daniel had plans of his own to make. Being head of counterintelligence now meant he actually had to do some counterintelligence work, beyond simply HYDRA-hunting. As annoying as it was, there were hands he needed to shake, people he needed to catch up with after years away, and several mole hunts to start. Daisy had come along with him, since Ernest Koenig would be at the bunker as well. Daniel had only a very vague memory of the barkeep, who he’d met once or twice over the years, but according to Daisy and May’s robot-friend Enoch, he’d been in the loop about HYDRA and the Chroncioms for twenty years, and was a crucial source of intelligence. According to May, who had stayed behind to keep an eye on the Playground, the Koenigs had been the most dedicated and loyal agents SHIELD had to offer for three generations. Daisy had made offhand remarks about at least four Koenig brothers and one sister- Daniel had long since given up trying to remember which was which.
While Daisy was meeting with her old contact, Daniel had a meeting with Thompson. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to it, even though he’d seen the other agent a few times since their reunion last year. He’d been the only source of news about his family- Ben’s kid had ended up being a boy, becoming the second Daniel Sousa in the family, but he had a favor to ask that he wasn’t looking forward to. Thompson had become friends with his brothers, bonded with his nieces and nephews, and even joined his parents for dinner sometimes. Asking him to reveal that he’d been lying to the Sousas for a year would be painful. Jack was too ambitious for his own good, would do anything to get ahead, and was barely loyal to anyone or anything, but they were still friends, and Daniel had put him through enough lately.
Their arrival at the base was straightforward enough. Word of Daniel’s survival had spread, so Daisy just had to drive them up to the gate, flash their IDs, and get waved through by an MP. They parked, and walked in comfortable silence to the bunker that disguised the entrance to SHIELD’s headquarters. Daniel braced himself for the barrage of attention he knew was coming. He appreciated the burden of command, he was used to being in charge- even appreciated it, in a way. It felt better to be able to control his own path, to lead others. He enjoyed it. But unlike Thompson, he’d never sought out glory or recognition. Just because he liked being in charge didn’t mean he wanted a parade in his honor- and he already knew this base would cheer and applaud the same way DC had. Somehow sensing his apprehension, Daisy squeezed his hand as they stepped into the elevator. He offered her a tight smile, and her warm eyes crinkled with concern. He really didn’t deserve this woman. They’d been together well over a year, and he still couldn’t wrap his head around someone as beautiful and powerful as her falling for him, of all people. Daniel thumbed the ‘down’ button, and the elevator slid down towards SHIELD’s HQ.
“You alright?”
“Yeah, I’ll be okay.”
“You really hate the pomp and circumstance, huh.” He made a face like he’d just sucked a lemon, just because he knew it would make her laugh.
“A spy can’t work in the spotlight. This was a bad idea, this whole victory lap. We’re not even close to done with mapping out HYDRA. It was a bad move, tactically.”
“Tactically, the troops benefit from seeing their general. Helps morale.”
“I’m not the Director.”
“Not yet.” She scoffed at his raised eyebrow. “I’m serious! Peggy’s grooming you as her replacement, it’s obvious. She’ll be Director someday, and when she is, you’ll end up Deputy Director in her place. Even if she wasn’t, your survival is a huge coup for SHIELD. They’re showing you off a bit, which is usually my thing.”
“I’m sure you’ll get plenty of time for that today too.” She grinned and kissed his cheek just before the elevator door dinged open, releasing his hand as she did. It was perfect timing, since he now had a crowd of clapping agents to wave to and shake the hands of. As he worked his way through the throng, greeting old friends and accepting introductions from new agents, he realized that Daisy had melted into the crowd at some point. He passed through the next few minutes in a daze, pausing when he met someone again who he’d actually missed. A few old coworkers from the New York or LA SSR offices, agents who’d been assigned to the Playground in recent months, or people he’d worked with on other missions. Eventually, near the back of the room, he finally found Daisy, chatting away with Jack Thompson. Thompson had quickly learned to respect Daisy after the first mission she’d done with him, and he’d even protested Peggy’s decision to back-bench her. Daisy had gone into exile willingly, however, and even now she hadn’t gone on a mission since her last. Daniel knew how much she hated desk work, but her guilt held her back. Hopefully, someday soon, she’d let herself go back to what she was good at.
The easy smile she flashed at Daniel now betrayed none of the turmoil he knew she was dealing with, nor did her casual wave. Jack’s smile was more pained, his lung must be hurting him, or maybe he was just sick of dealing with Daniel all the time. The two men shook hands, and Daniel sincerely hoped it was the last hand he had to shake today.
“Welcome back to the world of the living, Sousa.”
“Being dead sucks. Can’t recommend it.” Jack chuckled in that condescending way of his, and turned his attention back to Daisy.
“How exactly did you save this idiot’s life, Agent Wen? No one ever did get around to telling me, and your boyfriend here’s had a death wish as long as I’ve known him.”
“That’s classified, Jack,” Daniel bit out. He did not have a death wish.
“Still?”
“Still,” Daisy confirmed. The blond man sighed and rubbed at his short, scruffy beard with his knuckles.
“Understood. There’s some other vetted agents who you might want to talk to. It’s the team we set up to go after your killers. Figured you’d want to keep them going after Commies while you focus on the squids, to make sure you’ve got some actual success stories.”
“Exactly what I was going to suggest. Lead the way.”
Thompson led them to a room with a handful of men and women gathered around a table. One of the agents was wearing US Army dress greens with a Captain’s rank bars, and stiffly saluted Daniel when he entered. It took him a moment, but Daniel was shocked when he finally placed his face. The man had grown a moustache since he’d seen him last, almost fifteen years ago. Back then, he’d been a wide-eyed enlistee, dropped into Daniel’s lap to train and command. The soldier had been inexperienced, yes, but not at all incompetent, and by the time Daniel was wounded and medically discharged, he’d been well on his way to becoming a skilled scout. He’d never thought to check up on his career after the war ended.
“Little Ricky?” The other assembled agents, as well as Thompson, snickered at the name. Apparently he didn’t go by that anymore. Daisy had no response other than mild bemusement, which made sense, since she had absolutely no idea who this guy was. Plus, she was right, as per usual. She was always right.
“Yes sir, Lieutenant Sousa sir.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I signed up with SHIELD after I heard you died, sir. They were looking for a liaison with the Pentagon, and I wanted to pitch into the organization you gave your life for, sir. Your training is the only reason I’m alive.”
“You don’t have to call me sir, you outrank me now. I got discharged after Bastogne anyway. At ease,” he added as an afterthought. Ricky relaxed into a parade rest stance instead of his salute. “And I’m sorry for causing you to sign up for no reason.”
“Respectfully, sir, that’s nonsense. I’ve done good work here, and it’s good to be back under your command again. I’m glad I joined.” Daniel had no idea how to respond to that. He’d been the recipient of pity, respect, and kindness before, from his subordinates in SHIELD and the Army. He’d never been faced with such intense personal loyalty. May had told him that he was an inspiration to generations of agents, with the story of his death becoming one that many took to heart or were driven by. He’d brushed it off, not believing that he of all people would be seen as a hero. Seeing it for himself didn’t make it any more real. He returned Little Ricky’s salute in an attempt to even the playing field a bit.
“Thank you for your dedication, Captain Stoner.” He almost thought he saw the other man tear up a bit, and Daisy definitely let out a stifled gasp of recognition. Was he important enough in the future that she actually had heard of him?
“It’s been the honor of a lifetime, Lieutenant.”
Thompson led Daniel and his girlfriend out of the room with a light touch to each of their shoulders. He reluctantly allowed himself to be guided back into the hallway, but couldn’t resist letting his cane crush a couple of Jack’s toes in the process. He didn’t need to be handled like a child. Jack cursed at the pain, and Daisy winked at her boyfriend. He definitely needed to ask her about Little Ricky once they were alone, but he couldn’t with Thompson hanging around. Jack glanced at his watch, then swore more colorfully.
“C’mon, Sousa. I’ve only got an hour until my next meeting. We need to talk.”
“What, you can’t spare some more time for my return from the dead?” His friend just rolled his eyes and walked towards his office, not waiting for Daniel to follow. Daisy squeezed his hand and kissed him briefly.
“I’ll go find Koenig. Meet you back upstairs in an hour?”
“Sounds good. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
She turned to leave, and Daniel reluctantly returned his attention to Thompson, who was standing at the end of the hallway, arms crossed over his chest. They hadn’t exactly been discreet, but it was a perfectly chaste kiss. Jack would live.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.” Daniel couldn’t hide the grin in his voice. Pissing off Thompson and getting to kiss the woman he loved? It didn’t get much better than that.
“You two are insufferable, I swear to god.”
Their meeting was, unfortunately, much more boring than the lead-up to it had been. Only after they’d gotten through business did Daniel ask the question that had been distracting him for weeks.
“Can you tell my family, I’m alive, Jack? I don’t want to give my mother a heart attack and just show up unannounced.”
“I’ll tell them, and let them know you’ll be paying them a visit tomorrow. Bring that gal of yours, they’ll want to meet her too. Might be enough for them to forgive me for not saying anything.”
“Tomorrow? I’m supposed to be in LA-”
“Tomorrow, Sousa. They’ve waited long enough.” Daniel sighed and rubbed mindlessly at his stump. He was right.
“I’ll push back LA. And I’ll ask Louise.”
“Good. Your mother went on for half an hour last week about how you died single and lonely. She’s very sad about that in particular, among other obvious things. It’ll make her happy.”
“I wasn’t lonely!”
“You wore Hawaiian shirts and lived alone, in the most social city in the country. You were lonely. Moped for years after Marge broke things off.” That was… mostly false. What was so bad about Hawaiian shirts, though?
“Harsh. You weren’t much better, I’ve never met a single girlfriend of yours.” Jack gave him a look that he couldn’t quite discern the meaning of. He’d been doing that a lot since learning Daniel was alive.
“Yeah, well. Work, recovery, more work. Keeps you busy,” he argued halfheartedly.
“Don’t I know it. I should go though, I’ll see you soon.”
“Best not to keep your girl waiting. Don’t die out there, Sousa.”
Daniel smiled with a confidence he did not feel.
“I’ll try.”
-
Wilfred swept his arm across the top of his desk, hurling glasses and papers to the floor. Neither Zola nor Luke flinched as the glass shattered.
“SHIELD knows! They all know! Sousa and the future SHIELD agents are out in the open now, not even just conspiring with Carter in the shadows. Send your pet after them, Zola. All of them! Johnson and May and Sousa and Carter and Dugan and Jones and fucking Thompson! Kill the lot of them! Clearly Luke is useless.”
“The Winter Soldier is a useful and loyal asset, but I cannot yet guarantee how his brainwashing will hold up against so many of his friends and allies. He was unable to kill them in Colorado. Let them age a few years yet, let more time pass him by. A few more years of cryofreeze and his brain will be fully malleable, but for now, it is too risky.”
“Then what good are you!”
“Patience, gentlemen. Your time will come,” the Chronicom said.
“From what you’ve told me, HYDRA could’ve stayed hidden until 2014 if you people hadn’t screwed up and gotten Sousa stuck here! I had that loose end taken care of before you stuck your fingers in!” Wilfred pointed a shaking, bleeding hand at Luke. His ‘ally’ was worse than useless. The rage was so all-consuming he couldn’t even feel the shards of glass embedded in his fingers.
“It would have, yes. But neither of you would have lived to see it, and even then you would have failed. SHIELD and their allies wipe HYDRA out, cell by cell, limb by limb, albeit at great cost. The very agents who are currently such a thorn in your side are the very same responsible for much of HYDRA’s losses in the future. You are faced with a dangerous enemy, here.”
“And your assistance has been insufficient to defeat it,” Zola hissed. Luke passed over a roll of paper, which the scientist unfurled. His beady little eyes went wide behind those stupid glasses of his as they filled over the page.
“Specifications for advanced flight systems, computer technology twenty years ahead of your time, and preliminary plans for Project Insight, which will become HYDRA’s ultimate victory.” Wilfred was less than impressed.
“I thought you were supposed to be omniscient, and you could see the future. You’ve been leading us down a fucking rabbit hole!” Wilfred shouted.
“Sybil, our Predictor, can read the Time Streams. I cannot, even if they were in my possession. The Time Streams do not see the future, they predict possible futures based on one set past. The more things change from the original timeline, the harder it is to predict the future. I was given a very detailed plan to follow, and a wrench was immediately thrown into this plan when SHIELD chose a highly unlikely course of action. Chronicoms adapt, and we have been doing so ever since. They sent Melinda May and Daisy Johnson along with Phil Coulson, to save Agent Sousa’s life. They had a 98.7% chance of sending Alphonso Mackenzie with Phil Coulson. This change was unexpected. We had hoped to cut the head off of SHIELD, killing Mackenzie along with Sousa on his way to the roof. The SHIELD team would have quickly turned on itself and become no threat at all. Instead, we cut our losses and sought to split up the team by jumping early, knowing our chances of killing May and Johnson were exponentially higher after a few years stuck in the past. Unfortunately, this prevented Sybil from sharing as much information with me as I would have liked, my colleagues jumped away before the data transfer was complete. If they are killed, SHIELD will lose its strongest fighter and most capable spy. Have patience, and they will be dead before they can overturn your plans. Once they’re taken care of, it will be easy to bring things back on course.”
“So we’re flying blind.”
“Not at all. SHIELD is flying blind. Despite the presence of Enoch they understand next to nothing of the Chronicoms and our goals. We, however, know them better than they know themselves. We have had a century to study the minds of Leopold Fitz and Jemma Simmons, as well as a device containing all of SHIELD’s secrets, and thirty thousand years of our own anthropological research. Our predictions are nearly infallible, and we have shared this insight with you. We know more about them than they know about you, and now they’ve shed their cloak of secrecy and stepped into the open. A fatal mistake. All your adversaries will soon be dead, but I can only be in one place at a time. I can give you advice, technology, and foresight, but I am not omnipotent. You’ll have to do the… legwork, I believe humans call it, yourself. In the meantime, spread your influence, undermine SHIELD, sow chaos, and prepare for the worst while working for the best.”
“I’ll reach out to an old friend, and see if his contacts can be of use,” Zola drawled.
“Fenhoff?” Malick asked.
“Of course. I’ll break him out of prison. It shouldn't be hard. All the guards are in our pocket anyway. The Red Room’s assassins can handle Johnson and May.”
“That is a viable plan, though it will take years to execute,” Luke stated.
“Likely, yes. Do we have that much time?” Zola questioned.
“For this, yes, we do. Additionally, the more of this technology you feed to SHIELD, the easier it will be for us to take control of their systems.”
“They’d be stupid to accept it. Johnson and May will recognize future technology,” Malick pointed out.
“It doesn’t matter. Humans are greedy. SHIELD will take in the technology because they will not be able to resist it.” It was still weird to see someone who looked human talk about the species like that, but listening to Luke talk, Malick was hard-pressed to see him as anything but an alien robot.
“And Reinhardt? He has inside information we need, after so long on their base. Plus, according to Luke, he’s got a personal history with Johnson and her mother in the future.” Malick asked
“It will take more time,” Zola said, “but we will free him eventually. And perhaps with his help, assuming she doesn’t die first, we can all… make use of Agent Johnson’s powers.”
“If the Faustus Method doesn’t bring her powers under our control, Dr. Reinhardt’s will,” Malick agreed.
This was salvageable. Difficult, but salvageable. HYDRA could still win. It would take SHIELD another decade to put all the pieces of HYDRA together, and even then they’d still have to actually capture or kill all the operatives once they’d been identified. This was a war, not a simple police investigation. It would take time, and the outcome would not be decided by just one battle. But whether it took six months or three decades, HYDRA would prevail.
Luke’s original plan had been careful, detailed, and it likely would’ve worked. Accelerate the growth of HYDRA within SHIELD, and provide advanced-yet-human technology from the future to allow HYDRA’s Project Insight to launch forty years early, using laser satellites rather than helicarriers, and under the oversight of Director Carter and General Stoner instead of Nick Fury. Once the satellites were launched, HYDRA could easily secure the planet, and Malick would then hold up his end of the deal by allowing the Chronicoms to settle on Earth when they arrived in 2019, fleeing their world’s destruction. HYDRA would rule over humanity, with the support of their Chronicom allies. It was simple, straightforward. Clean. This new plan was messy, unpredictable. He didn't like it, but he had no choice.
March 26, 1957
Daniel only hesitated a moment before knocking on his mom and dad’s front door. He didn’t have Daisy’s sixth sense, but he knew she was just behind him. He might not have the nerve to do this otherwise. He couldn’t be sure he’d have the courage to do this without her. All his reunions had been painful and awkward, but this would be the hardest. He’d missed his family so fucking much, but he was really bad at the constant parade of apologies, begging for forgiveness, and sappy reunions. He enjoyed seeing everyone again, it was a huge relief to not have to hide anymore. But he still wished he could skip the hard parts and just go back to the way things were before his boss tried to kill him.
Before he could get any broodier, the door was flung open, and his breath caught in his throat. His mother was standing there, looking the same as she had last he’d seen her, albeit a few years older. Her lower lip trembled, and Daniel forced a wry smile.
“Hi, ma.” She burst into tears and flung herself into his one available arm, and likely would’ve knocked him back down the stoop if Daisy hadn’t caught him, gently resting a hand on the back of his shoulder so he didn’t tip over. Before he could even get his footing, Will appeared in the doorway, and his brother gave him a crushing hug of his own. As soon as he’d pulled back, his father replaced him, murmuring in Portuguese too quietly for him to hear. Ben and Camila stood just inside, sobbing silently. Her husband joined them a moment later, but only smiled awkwardly at Daniel. He’d never been too close with John. When his mother finally pulled herself away, they both hugged him too, before his father finally appeared and got a turn. His mom ushered him and Daisy wordlessly into the entryway, and hugged him again. By that point, there were three children milling around, one of which was just a toddler, and Ben’s wife Ethel had appeared with an even smaller baby. If it hadn't been for Jack, he wouldn’t have been able to recognize the children. They’d all grown so much.
While Daisy stood awkwardly behind him, Daniel’s entire family looked him up and down, trying to take in what little about him had changed. His father spoke first, breaking the awed silence.
“It’s really you, querido ? You’re alive?” The tears Daniel had been trying to hold back finally spilled out, and he nodded weakly. He had to lean on his cane lest his remaining knee give out. The familiar sights and sounds of home were overwhelming after all this time away. The aroma of lunch was wafting from the kitchen, his dad hadn’t changed his aftershave brand. There was even an old record playing- old by his standards, not by Daisy’s.
“I’m alive, Dad. I’m so sorry, by the time I learned I was in danger it was too late. I had to go into hiding to protect all of you. But I’m back now. I’m not going anywhere again, I promise.” His mother rapidly nodded her understanding, and Camila wiped away tears. He’d missed his sister, they’d always been close. And was she… pregnant?
“Mr. Thompson told us everything that wasn’t classified. I invited everyone over as soon as he did. He’s been a real help these past few years. He said you’ve been saving a lot of lives, and that he would personally- his words, not mine- ‘kill that man if he tries anything like that again’. I’m inclined to agree with him.”
“That sounds like Jack,” Daniel chuckled. “I’m glad he was here to keep an eye on you all, when I couldn’t be.” His father nodded his agreement.
“He’s a good man. He was very determined to avenge your death.” He wasn’t quite sure if Jack qualified as a good man, but butchering some Soviet agents in retaliation for his death was almost flattering, in a really fucked-up way. Will coughed to get his attention, and Daniel’s heart sank. His wife had passed just months before Daniel’s alleged death. The whole thing must’ve been especially hard on him.
“Jack also said you met a very talented fellow agent while you were out saving the country. Is this the famous Agent Wen?” His brother looked pointedly between Daniel and Daisy, who stepped into the crowd of Sousas, an awkward smile on her face. She looked so uncomfortable. Daisy had seemed excited to meet his family, and he knew they’d love her, but this was really putting her on the spot, and he felt terrible about it. Squeezing her hand, he gestured between her and the rest of his family.
“Everyone, meet Louise Wen. She’s one of SHIELD’s finest, and my girlfriend.”
Midway through a whirlwind barrage of joyous introductions (his parents insisted she call them Rodrigo and Elizabeth, not Mr. and Mrs. Sousa), hugs (especially from the kids, for their ‘new auntie’), handshakes (Ben and Will were always the gentlemen) and basic questions (where was she from? Los Angeles. How long had they been together? More than a year. How did they meet? Through SHIELD), and compliments (his mom couldn’t get over how beautiful and elegant she was, and Daniel agreed) Daniel’s very old, nearly senile grandmother appeared from upstairs. He’d forgotten she was staying with his parents. She had only one question, once she’d processed that he was alive, greeted and hugged him, and learned that he had brought a girlfriend home with him. Despite living in the US for decades, his grandmother spoke absolutely zero English.
“Ela é católica?”
“She wants to know if you’re Catholic, Louise,” Ben explained. Daniel watched Daisy’s gaze flick over to him, and they came to a silent agreement to do something completely new to her: lie to avoid confrontation.
“Yup, absolutely.”
“Ela diz que é sim, avó, ” Daniel relayed. He hadn’t spoken his father’s language in years, and he’d never been fluent. It felt good to do so again. His grandma was satisfied by the answer, and tottered off to the kitchen.
“Are you moving back to LA, Daniel?” his mom asked. The worry in her tone broke his heart all over again. The children were still hanging back, unsure of what to make of the uncle they barely remembered. He’d been ‘dead’ longer than one of them had even been alive.
“No, no. SHIELD’s put me up in DC, but I’ll be in the area for work a lot. I’ll be home to visit often, the train ride isn’t that bad.”
With the basic pleasantries out of the way, and everyone having mostly processed Daniel’s survival, he was led in a daze to the veritable feast that had been prepared, and the whole family dug in while they continued to sob, trade stories of the last two years, and catch up. They stayed rather vague about Daisy’s past, but his family was so focused on him that it largely went unnoticed. The food was delicious, he’d missed his mother’s cooking, and the kids slowly warmed up to him during the meal. Will had twin daughters: Alice and Beth, Ben had two of his own: Jean and the one-year-old Daniel Sousa II (they were pissed that they’d named a kid after him while he was still alive, but everyone called the baby Danny anyways, which helped avoid confusion), and Camila was slightly pregnant, but apparently keeping it quiet. None were older than seven, and only the twins had any recollection of him at all, but it was still amazing to see everyone again. All these reunions with friends and family had healed a part of him which he’d tried very hard to pretend wasn’t missing. Daisy gave every impression of blending seamlessly into the family, aside from a slight language barrier. Everyone loved her already, and she played the smiling and polite guest well, but he could tell she was overwhelmed. Not that he could blame her. His family was a lot under the best of circumstances, and this was a lot of new people at once- people who were very important to someone she loved. As soon as they were out the door, he’d talk to her about it. Next time, maybe they’d only visit a sibling or two at a time. They all lived in and around New York anyway, it wouldn’t be too hard.
When lunch slowly wrapped up, Daniel found himself sitting on the couch in his childhood living room. All the children had decided to pile onto him, and he could barely see the rest of the room over the tangle of child-limbs. The smaller of the two Daniel kept accidentally stepping on his stump, and his niece Alice was giggling as she argued with her cousin. It was wonderful. He hadn’t spent this much time with his family in years, and now he learned he was the most popular uncle amongst the little ones. He wasn’t sure if he ever wanted kids of his own, but doting on his nieces and nephew? That, he could get used to. He allowed the kids to use him as their personal jungle gym without complaint or argument.
-
Daniel’s family were warm, and kind, and welcoming, and she’d never been more overwhelmed. The Sousas spoke with a rapid combination of thick Brooklyn accents and Portuguese, neither of which Daisy understood very well. She knew Daniel was far from fluent in his father’s native language, but even he slipped into the creole with comfort and ease, his accent far thicker than she’d ever heard it. As adorable as it was, she was definitely the odd one out- a feeling only reinforced by watching her boyfriend play with the little ones. He doted on his nieces and nephews, and the adoration was mutual. He was practically glowing, and it thrilled her to see him this happy. They’d never discussed children, but it was clear he loved them. She absolutely refused to have a child in the 1950s. Maybe, if he’d come with them to the future, then maybe she would have been okay with having a child. She knew how to take care of them, foster care made sure of that. But even if she wanted a child- which she didn’t- she wouldn’t bring a mixed, Inhuman, possibly female, and possibly queer child into such a restrictive time period. She was a soldier in a war against people who wanted to turn her inside out, and she refused to have a kid just so they could be turned into a science experiment. Would Daniel understand that?
This sort of thing- a big family that loved each other, boisterous meals with children underfoot, siblings and in-laws and spouses and parents , she didn’t know how to deal with this. It wasn’t a situation she could punch her way out of. She loved Daniel dearly, more than she’d imagined possible, but if this was the sort of thing he wanted for their future, she couldn’t provide it. She’d be fighting battles until the day she died, not cooking or living this peaceful of a life. She was an Inhuman. A slave soldier, built by Kree to fight their wars for them. She might not be fighting the Kree’s wars, but being a warrior was in her blood. She’d never been able to escape it, and she doubted she ever would. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to.
While the family fussed and cooed over its newest addition, an adorable baby named after Daniel, Daisy let herself drift to the back of the room, slipping into the kitchen. She needed some air, so she quietly slid open the door to the backyard. Daniel would be too busy being swamped with relatives to notice if she disappeared for a moment, she was just the sideshow here anyway. The family had only just met her, what they were really happy for was having their son, brother, uncle, or grandson back. She walked into the small patch of grass, taking a deep breath and reaching out with her vibrations. The city smelled different than she was used to. The air had a fouler tinge, more smoggy and sickly. The EPA didn’t exist yet, there was still lead in gasoline. The city hadn’t yet been introduced to the omnipresence of halal carts, or a thousand other foods she couldn’t imagine New York without. This wasn’t her home- not that New York ever really had been. The vibrations were familiar, at least. Brick and steel didn’t change much, nor did Daniel, a beacon of familiarity in an otherwise odd environment. She’d worn the necklace her mom had bought her as well, and fidgeted with the golden daisy on it. She’d been surprised how much it had come to help her focus over the past few months. Gold’s vibrations were unique in an almost intoxicating way- endless lattices, pliable yet dense. It was soothing.
She felt a shift- one of the Sousas was coming in her direction, but it wasn’t Daniel. Daisy turned to see a woman in a green dress, with her brother’s dark curls, strong jaw, and warm eyes. Camila, she remembered. His sister, the youngest sibling. Damn if this whole family didn’t have incredible genetics.
“First time in the city?” Camila asked.
“Hm?”
“You seem like you’re getting used to everything. I know you’re from LA, but it’s pretty different here, huh?” First rule of undercover was to keep answers short and simple. No long tangents, no insanely convoluted backstories. The second rule was to keep things as close to the truth as policy.
“No, I uh… I spent a lot of time in New York as a kid, actually. But last time I was here was a couple years back.” She hadn’t even realized this was her first time back since the day Daniel was supposed to die. She’d been to Hoboken more recently than New York itself. That was embarrassing.
“As a kid? When were you born?” Somehow, Daisy didn’t think ‘1988’ would go over well.
“Don’t you know never to ask a lady her age?” Camila laughed, and she reminded Daisy even more of her brother.
“Must’ve been during the Depression, right?” She always forgot that was a thing.
“Yeah, yeah it was. My mom and I weren’t always in LA back then. Complicated times, you know?”
“Yeah, I know. I remember when Daniel was a kid- he was older than me, but still a kid. Times were hard in the thirties. But they never let me realize how bad it was. Daniel made a game out of everything, and I was too busy laughing to realize what the world was like. He’d cover himself in mud just to make me smile, even when mom yelled at him for it.”
“Sounds like a happy childhood.”
“It was, oddly enough. How about you?”
“Did I have a happy childhood?”
“No, siblings. You two talked a lot about the past couple years, aside from all the classified stuff, but I can’t say I know much about you.”
“Ah, so this is the ‘you’d better not hurt my brother or I’ll kill you’ speech?”
“Yup. You’d better not hurt my brother or I’ll kill you.”
“Noted, but I’ve saved his sorry ass a few times already. He’s too noble for his own good.”
“Yeah, that sounds like him. But I know a deflection when I see one. You haven’t said a word about your father or siblings.”
“Jesus, you’re more of an interrogator than Daniel. You’d be a good detective.”
“I know.” Daisy sighed, and finally gave in. This woman had clearly never heard of a sore subject before. What if her whole family had been killed or something?
“No siblings. My dad died a few years ago, an old injury came back for him.”
“I’m sorry. I know what that’s like.” She did sound remorseful, at least.
“Yeah, I know. I’m glad your brother came back to you.”
“You really saved his life?”
“I did.”
“Then thank you. I think he’s in good hands.”
“I try.” Camila took a breath, and Daisy rolled her eyes as she recognized the signs of someone who was done beating around the bush.
“I know you two are hiding something. I hope it’s harmless. Is Louise even your real name? He always hesitates a bit before he calls you that.” Camila’s eyes were sparkling, but Daisy wasn’t amused.
“I’ve had a few. Look, I promise you that your brother knows everything there is to know about me. We’re spies, keeping secrets from family is an unfortunate part of the job.”
“Can you tell me how you actually met, at least?” Daisy pondered it for a moment, but it was harmless enough.
“I broke into his office. The rest is-”
“Classified?” Camila asked, in her best impression of her brother. It was scarily accurate, and Daisy couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Something like that, yeah.”
“Well, I’m sure whatever version you tell at the wedding will be entertaining.”
“The what ?”
“He wants to marry you. It’s obvious, it’s a miracle he hasn’t proposed already.”
“He does?” Daisy heard the hope in her own voice, and it shocked her.
“You really can’t see it? You’ve been together over a year and you haven’t talked about marriage?”
“No, I- we- it’s been a really, really busy couple of years.” He wanted to marry her? Shit, she’d never even considered she might get married someday. Sure, if she was gonna marry anyone, it would be Daniel. She’d love to marry him, really. She’d say yes in a heartbeat if he proposed. But all this was supposed to be temporary. Dating him was just supposed to be a bad decision, an attachment she never should have formed. She wasn’t supposed to let herself get tied down here. She was a soldier on a mission, and all missions ended eventually. She could never live out the life with him that he would want. That she wanted too- minus the kids. It wasn’t possible.
“You should talk to him. Something tells me you both want the same thing and you’re both too stupid to say it first. But come back inside, first. He gets all pouty without you around, it’s awful. I think the only reason he didn’t follow you out here is that he was buried under a pile of children. Any chance you two can babysit once in a while?”
For once, Daisy was too dumbstruck to argue. She hadn’t even realized Daniel had noticed she was gone. So she followed her maybe-future-sister-in-law back inside the house, and let herself enjoy the rest of the afternoon.
March 28, 1957
Daniel stepped off the plane and onto the tarmac of LAX, putting on his sunglasses to fend off the midday sun. Before he’d even had time to get his bearings, the small briefcase in his hand had been snatched away. He raised a fist to punch the would-be-thief, only to lower it when he realized who it was.
“Mr. Jarvis.” When Daniel had been ordered to his old LA office, another stop on his tour, Howard had offered Jarvis’s assistance in getting around the city. Daniel had agreed, since it was cheaper and easier than renting a car. He really didn’t want to regret it.
“Agent Sousa. How wonderful to see you again. Welcome back to Los Angeles. I trust you had a pleasant flight.”
“Pleasant enough.” He missed Daisy, being a few thousand miles apart was brutal. Thankfully he’d be flying home that evening. “We’ve got one stop to make before the office.”
“Of course. Mr. Stark has informed me that my services are at your disposal whenever you find yourself in need of me. Presuming I’m not busy, of course.”
“Did you bring what I asked for?”
“I had to steal it back from Bernard, but yes.”
“Bernard?”
“The flamingo. A wretched beast. Miss Carter is all too familiar with his misdeeds. There is one other addition to our party as well, Agent Sousa.”
“You didn’t bring a flamingo?”
“Not at all.”
As soon as they reached the parking lot, Daniel was greeted by the sound of a car door slamming and a lightly-accented voice shouting his name. He turned towards the sound just in time to get slapped across the face.
“Ow.” Ana Jarvis was a deceptively strong woman. He didn’t know her particularly well, but being the head of SHIELD’s West Coast division meant he’d spent a lot of time with Stark over the years, which meant he’d spent a lot of time with the Jarvises. After three or four missions for Stark run with the painfully British butler, he’d been invited over for dinner, and hadn’t been able to think of an excuse to say no. It had eventually become something of a tradition, a dinner with Ana and Edwin after getting their hands dirty together for Howard. By the time he was ‘killed’, he’d become friends with both husband and wife. They were wonderful people, and it had pained him to let the couple think he was dead. Thankfully, Edwin had learned of his survival relatively quickly, but Ana had apparently only just been informed.
“You deserve it. Making my husband lie to me for years. Making everyone think you were dead.”
“I do. I’m sorry. I even heard something about a painting in my honor.”
“It is a wonderful portrait. Edwin only just managed to stop me from destroying it when he told me the truth. I shoved it in a very dark corner instead.”
“Yeah… that checks out.”
“Come along, we have places to be! There’s a stop that Agent Sousa requested before we go to the SHIELD office.” The butler called out. Daniel was grateful to him for the rescue, but as the three of them entered one of Stark’s cars (Edwin naturally holding open the doors for his wife and friend), Ana didn’t let him off the hook.
“And you simply must come around for dinner again sometime. I know you’re not in LA anymore, but we do spend plenty of time on the East Coast.”
“I will absolutely be taking you up on that, Ana. I haven’t had good goulash since yours.”
“Well then maybe you shouldn’t have faked your death.” That shut him up very effectively. The rest of the drive was silent, apart from polite conversation between the two men. Ana gasped in horror when they reached their first destination.
“No! You can’t mean to!” Daniel just smiled grimly in response, and swung his bum leg out of the car. He beat Jarvis to the trunk, pulling out the sledgehammer he’d brought as requested. He’d been determined to do this ever since the plan to reintroduce him to the world had been set. He wasn’t dead, he never had been. He had a cause to give his life for, as he always had, but he had much more to live for now than he had two years ago. He wasn’t going to end up six feet under that easily. Daniel swung the hammer over his shoulder, making his way into the cemetery where his empty grave lay. The Jarvises thankfully hung back- Daniel could hear Edwin explaining to his wife that this was something he had to do alone. He was grateful for it, but said nothing. He’d memorized a map of the place on the way over, and was grateful it was empty. He didn’t want to disturb any mourners with what he was about to do.
After a few painful minutes of crutching through the serene expanse of tombstones, Daniel found the one with his name on it. There was something profoundly surreal about seeing his own grave. It wasn’t right, people weren’t supposed to be around to witness this. Standing on the patch of grass above where his body would have been buried was nearly enough to make him vomit. There was no family buried alongside him, no parents, spouse, or children. His family’s plot was in Brooklyn, and shipping an empty casket back was too inconvenient. The date of death was listed as July 22, 1955, and the epitaph described him as a good friend and a loyal soldier. Both were true. There were worse ways to be remembered, he supposed, but there was no way he was letting this be his grave. He wanted to make it to the 2000s, to see that internet Daisy was always talking about, to be able to enjoy a world with less prejudice in his last days. He wanted a long and fruitful life ahead of him, full of happiness and success. He wanted to crush HYDRA under his boot and scrape off the sludge, and go back to being a regular SHIELD agent. Maybe, if he was very lucky, Daisy would be there for those moments. He loved her more than anything, and he’d have proposed to her in a heartbeat if he thought she’d say yes. But her heart was with her team, and the timeline that she came from. And he couldn’t go with her until he’d finished cleaning up his messes here. If he was very fortunate, in 60 or 70 years he’d have a real grave, near his parents and siblings, shared with his wife. Daniel had never been an optimist, nor the type to daydream about the future. He was a soldier, with one battle to fight at a time. If he won, then he’d earned the luxury of fighting the next battle. Not everyone was lucky enough to do so.
Daisy made him optimistic. Despite her sarcasm and attempts at pessimism, she was still an optimist at heart. She saw the worst in people when it was there, but she always hoped for the best, and fought for it well beyond when anyone else would have given up. She was kinder and more caring than him, and Daniel loved her for it. This slab of rock, a relic of the timeline she’d wiped away, would’ve been it for him if she hadn’t been there. The end of his dreary story. Maybe, thanks to her, he could afford to dream about the future a little bit. To hope for a quiet retirement, making it to old age, a death in his sleep in Daisy’s arms. As he raised the sledgehammer and brought it swinging down into his own tombstone, he cursed the contemplative, philosophical mood the damn thing had brought on, and prayed that he wouldn’t need a replacement anytime soon. If he died, Daisy would kill him. When the gravemarker was nothing more than chunks and dust, too shattered to make out his name, Daniel felt more alive than he had in years.
Notes:
I am absolutely terrible at writing children, so I tried to avoid being direct in depicting the small army of tiny Sousas. The details don't matter much anyway. I'm also god-awful at writing engagements and weddings, so I'll probably just skip over that part. My drafts have now hit 75k words, so there's plenty of other content to come.
The game's changed! The anti-HYDRA ops are now more out in the open, but HYDRA's existence is still a secret. How long can that last? Everyone's playing 4D chess, or thinks they are anyways. The Chronicoms are behind it all, but they're nowhere near as smart as they think they are. They don't understand people at ALL, and that's why they lost.
Coulson went on and on about how much of an inspiration Sousa was, and how many people joined SHIELD because of his story. Thought I could use a familiar face to illustrate that. Bernard had to get name-dropped too, ofc. Apparently flamingos can actually live a couple decades! More familiar faces will have to wait for Chapter 17, but next week we'll see some people again for the first time in a hot second. I do think it's funny that I put Zola in the tags from the beginning but this was his first actual appearance.
Also, I don't speak Portuguese. I do speak Spanish, so I can understand it pretty well, but the tiny bit that Sousa's family speaks is the result of Spanish-> European Portuguese in Google Translate. Apologies if it's wrong.
Comments and kudos are always appreciated!
Chapter 14
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
October 6, 1957
For their anniversary, Daniel had insisted on cooking for her. Daisy had absolutely no complaints- he was an excellent cook, and she was still useless in the kitchen, and her bare-bones cabinets and refrigerator proved it. SHIELD had set her up with an apartment in DC, but she almost never used it. It wasn’t exactly proper, but after explaining to him exactly how 21st century relationships worked, she’d all but moved into his apartment. She still slept at her own fairly regularly, but half of Daniel’s drawers were full of her stuff, and she had her own key. Their working hours were different now, with Daisy spending most of her time at the Playground, the DC office, or in the field, and Daniel regularly bouncing between Lehigh, New York, and DC, with clandestine trips to the Playground whenever he could manage it. They both still kept bunks there, in case they needed to hide away, but May was the only one of the original six-person team who still lived on the base full-time now. Daisy had gotten used to living in a civilian apartment for the first time in… well, ever. It was nice. Way too much space, but nice.
Daniel had had the afternoon off, since he’d just gotten back from New York and nothing had needed his attention all that urgently in DC. Daisy opened the door to his apartment ten minutes before he’d asked her to meet him there, kicking off her shoes and following the smell of steak to the kitchen. Daniel was behind the stove, complete with an apron and rolled-up sleeves that did an excellent job of showing off his arms. He had a pair of tongs in one hand, and was using the other to lean against the countertop, his cane propped up near him. They’d gotten so used to each other’s presence that no formal greeting was required beyond the quick kiss they shared.
“Happy anniversary, sweetheart.” Daisy smiled, and she walked to the refrigerator to grab them both beers.
“Happy anniversary. That smells amazing, by the way. How was New York?”
“Boring. The family says hi, though. So do Stoner and Thompson. Everything okay down here?”
“Yeah, it was pretty routine. Lots of analysis, and checking over the new Quinjets to make sure they won’t blow up. But Jesus Christ, it should be illegal for it to be this muggy out in October. I was sweating the entire way over here. I hate living in a swamp.” She chuckled to herself, and Daniel gave her that adorable lost-puppy look. He’d all but patented that expression for when she talked about the weird parts of the future.
“Why is living in a swamp funny?”
“Shrek,” Daisy deadpanned. Her boyfriend blinked, cocking his head slightly.
“I honestly can’t tell if that’s a real word or not.”
“It’s a movie, from like 2001. About an ogre who lives in a swamp. It’s really good, very popular, and got turned into a meme. You’d like it. I’d show it to you if I could.” He stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing the top of her head. She knew that meant he was incredibly confused, and trying to fill the time before he spoke so he could process that absolutely insane information.
“Who knows, if your team doesn’t show and we both live another fifty years, you might get to show it to me after all.” Daisy tensed against him, and Daniel froze in response. “I’m sorry. I know it’s a sore subject.”
“No. You’re right. I accepted a while ago that they might never come back. There’s no way to know when the jump brought them to, it’s already been years. Just… do you ever think about it?”
“About what?”
“The future. Our future. Beyond just the next fight.” Did he want 2.5 kids and a white picket fence, or was he expecting her to disappear at any moment? She’d been living from brawl to brawl for so long she wasn’t quite sure how to exist any other way.
“Every day,” he said quietly. Daniel’s arms tightened around her, and she leaned into the touch.
“And?” She needed to know if they were on the same page about… all this. Life.
“I love you, Dais. You mean the world to me. I want to spend as much of my life with you as I can. In my perfect world, we’d get married and keep fighting HYDRA together. Move north, get an apartment or a nice house. Be there for my family, and spend time with your mom. SHIELD’s my life, I don’t know who I’d be without it, but I know with you I wouldn’t have to find out. I’d like to be there to see you become the leader you were always meant to be, and to support you every step of the way. I’ve never particularly wanted kids, and this life isn’t very conducive to them anyway, but a dog or a cat would be nice. And if your team comes back, I’d go with you.”
“I’d never ask that of you.”
“You don’t have to.” Daisy turned in his arms to face him, and pressed their foreheads together. She couldn’t lose him like she had Lincoln, and she wouldn’t be able to bear him abandoning her for someone else like Jemma had when they’d been captured by the Chronicoms, but she knew this was different. She relied on Daniel more than she wanted to admit, but he wouldn’t sacrifice himself when he knew how much he meant to her. And unlike Jemma, this wasn’t a one-way crush on a straight girl that lasted for years despite being useless. It was an actually reciprocated relationship. And he’d said exactly what she’d wanted to hear. They were on the same page, they had been all along.
“That better not be your proposal, Sousa. I expect better.”
“I’ve learned the hard way how easy it is to mess up an engagement, or to rush into it. I’ve been waiting to make sure I do this right. Trust me.” She’d almost forgotten he’d been engaged before.
“I do trust you. And I expect a ring with-”
“Amethysts? Purple was always your color.”
“Exactly. Now get back to the stove before you burn our dinner.” Her words may have been harsh, but her light tone and wry smile took all the bite out of it. Daniel laughed and mock-bowed in response.
“As you wish.”
“ The Princess Bride ! You’d really love that movie.”
August 4, 1958
Daisy groaned and let her head flop forward onto a stack of papers.
“This is taking too long.”
“How do you mean?” May asked. The two of them were alone in a conference room on the Playground, working on the now-infamous Conspiracy Board.
“It’s been three goddamn years. It didn’t take this long to beat HYDRA last time.”
“Last time we had the internet, and Romanoff’s file dump, and the entire US military was hunting them. Even then, Hale, Malick, and who knows how many others stayed off our radar until it was too late.”
“But they were more entrenched then, there’s less of them now.”
“We’ve made incredible progress. There’s only one Monolith cutting left, we have a hundred agents working around the clock to root out HYDRA. Your fiancé’s running the show. I’m running the Playground and training new agents, you’re back in the field most of the time and you’ll probably get a command of your own again any day now. Friedman’s leading an ops team to strike covertly at HYDRA, Jones, Dugan, and Morita are spread out to different bases to make sure HYDRA doesn’t slip in. Carter’s warming up to us, Phillips has been less of an ass lately, and Stark finally delivered some reverse-engineered Quinjets.”
“Wow. When did you become an optimist?” Daisy raised an eyebrow at her mother.
“When I started to realize we might actually get this done.” She had a point. They were making good progress. Things in her personal life weren’t going too bad either. May still lived on the Playground, since she’d been keeping a lower profile, but Daisy got to see her frequently. They still did Tai Chi together most mornings, and she was now completely fluent in Mandarin, and knew how to fly a plane. May had offered to teach her Cantonese next, but Daisy had decided to focus on learning the written characters instead. Daniel had proposed a few months before, and true to his word it was very romantic and sweet. She still hadn’t quite wrapped her head around the fact that she’d be married in a few months, but maybe it would sink in eventually.
If this was being trapped in the past, it wasn’t terrible. She could live with this- especially once HYDRA was gone. Speaking of the future, they had plans to confirm.
“Still want dinner the day after tomorrow, mom?”
“As long as you’re not the one making it,” May joked.
“I’m sure I can get Danny boy to cook.”
“Good. Someone in this family needs to know how.” They really were all a family now. Huh. She had a mom, she’d have a husband soon. She missed Coulson and the team more than she could even begin to put into words, but she’d see them again some day. She had to.
August 5, 1958
Daisy took a deep breath, and tucked the necklace containing her engagement ring under her shirt. She couldn’t risk breaking it if she lost control of her emotions, and talking to Reinhardt often made that happen. Once, this cell had contained Ward. Now, it had a monster who was somehow even more terrifying. She’d barely even spent ten minutes with the fucker before Coulson had killed him, but he had the unique ability to chill her to the bone just by being in his presence. Something about the glint in his eye while he talked dispassionately about all the horrific murders he’d committed made her want to curl into a ball and scream. She’d met many people with that glint before, from her days in foster care to her time in space. Not one of them had been anything less than monstrous. When Daisy pulled open the door and stepped inside, Reinhardt got off his cot and smiled politely, before taking his usual seat at the table in the middle of the room. Daisy took the opposite chair, and opened a notebook.
“There’s one head of HYDRA you haven’t told us about yet.”
“Yes, there is. The head in the Middle East, Ali Abbas.” Reinhardt told her everything he knew about Abbas and his operation, while Daisy took copious notes. When he finished, Reinhardt pushed up his glasses and spoke again.
“Is this to be our last conversation, then? Our deal was my sentenced would be commuted after-”
“After their death or capture. That won’t happen for a few years yet. But I hope this will be our last conversation, yes.” And not a moment too soon. Three years of dealing with this god-awful bastard, although thankfully not very much or for very long.
“Then I have a story I should like to tell you. Free of charge.”
“I don’t care.” Daisy stood, closing her notebook, before Reinhardt spoke again.
“Oh, but you’ll find this interesting. It concerns your Monolith and Obelisk.”
“Go on,” she grudgingly said, as she sat back down.”
“In 1935, I was an Obersturmbannführer in the SS. A Colonel, for you Americans. Johann Schmidt approached me then. I’d joined the SS out of patriotism, love of my country and my people. Schmidt wanted to recruit me to his new division: HYDRA.”
“So this is the villain backstory?”
“The important part cannot be understood without this information, I assure you. Schmidt, the Führer, and I all shared a fascination with the arcane. Schmidt taught me much, and after a short few years my abstract fascination became much… better informed. HYDRA had use for a man of my medical talents, after all.”
“You’re a monster.”
“Perhaps. But everything I did, I did for humanity.”
“For a very narrow definition of human. You were an office in the fucking SS. You don’t get to talk about humanity.”
“Hmph. As I was saying, Herr Schmidt gave me resources that I previously could only have dreamed of. He opened my eyes. This is when I learned of the tales of the blue angels, you see. And rumors of the Obelisk- Diviner, whatever you wish to call it. It took me five years to find it, but when I succeeded it was all worth it. When I killed your relatives.”
“I put that much together. Get to the fucking point.”
“The Führer was obsessed with Biblical tales, rumors and whispers of magic and godliness. The Red Skull and I were smarter than that, what we pursued was more real. He found the Tesseract, and I found the Obelisk. Now both are being studied by SHIELD. One of the many reasons HYDRA turned on the Reich was because it no longer had the same goals as us. Hitler sought to conquer the world the old fashioned way, while he grasped at straws and picked fights he couldn’t win. Herr Schmidt’s goal was more concrete. World domination, yes, but his methods were feasible and would have succeeded without Captain America’s intervention. But this was not Schmidt’s idea. He was heir to a long tradition.”
“Of megalomaniacs?”
“Of HYDRA. You already know that it is very old indeed, that Schmidt only brought one faction into the light rather than building the entire organization.” Daisy had to admit she was intrigued.
“Yeah, he was head of HYDRA, brought out his group and recruited further from the SS and Wehrmacht."
"Correct, I was among those recruits. It brought him more power in ten years than the rest of the organization had accumulated in five thousand.”
“But he still failed.”
“He did, yes. But regardless, he had been raised in the cult that HYDRA was founded on. Schmidt was wise enough to see through the religious lunacy and to distill HYDRA to its core principles: order over chaos. Power is the key to establishing order, which will make the world a better place. And the superhuman, the alien, is the ultimate power. Despite not caring about the founding myth of HYDRA, Schmidt still told some of his key subordinates about it. I was one of them.”
“Is this the point you’ve spent fifteen minutes getting to?”
“Yes, yes it is. You youths are so impatient nowadays. Where is your respect for your elders?”
“You killed my elders,” she spat. Reinhardt didn’t even blink.
“Touché. Anyway, Schmidt told me a tale that went something like this: Long ago, aliens took some humans from Earth and granted them incredible power. One was created with more power than all the rest, a great being who many worshipped as a god, and who all feared. Humans and some of these powered individuals banded together and exiled this being through the Monolith, to another world. Others continued to worship their exiled deity, and chose from among their number a sacrifice, once every three years. They were to be fed to the Monolith, an offering to their god, while the cult worked to orchestrate the deity’s return. When he came back, so too would all the sacrificial lambs. I can see you have heard this story before, yes? You believe it. That is why you fear the Monolith shards so much.” Daisy was frozen in fear and anger, but nodded weakly in response. She cursed herself for giving away her recognition of the tale, but all she could picture was Hive’s horrible necromancy, how amazing and terrible being under his sway felt. She lacked the wherewithal to deny it.
“I myself always thought this was nonsense. The Monolith is dangerous, yes, but the doorway to the realm of an exiled deity? Preposterous. You’re welcome to chase these stones if you’d like. Your fear may be misplaced, but that is not my problem. HYDRA’s millenia-long obsession with that damned rock was a waste of time. But over my years in this cell, I started thinking. Putting pieces together. You were a particularly difficult puzzle to solve, my friend. A relative of a woman who could survive the Diviner, and you yourself could survive it. A SHIELD agent, an enemy of HYDRA who is simply using me to destroy it, but simultaneously obsessed with the Monolith. You have extensive knowledge of the Diviner and its origins, and gripping fear of the Monolith. And of course, there’s the little things.”
“Little things?” She parroted, already suspecting what he would say next.
“You’re engaged, as of this meeting. You were not on your last visit. Congratulations.” Daisy’s hand automatically went to the ring hanging on a silver chain around her neck. It had been tucked under her shirt, but must have come out. “You ensure your hands and wrists are always bare. No tan line from a watch, but you do have one from that new ring. A sentimental exception to your usual rule, I suppose. I noticed in our earliest meetings that when you become too stressed, things start to… shake. Discovery requires experimentation, so I purposefully make you as uncomfortable as possible. Your control over your abilities has gotten better over the years, but I still unnerve you enough that sometimes, the water on the table ripples. I am truly flattered.” He gestured towards the shatterproof plastic cup next to him, which even now was full of rippling water. She stood, blood roaring in her ears, and stormed off towards the door. Reinhardt’s voice raised to a shout behind her.
“The Blue Angels from the tale of the Diviner! They are the same who made the Monolith. You and your sister- if that is indeed the bond you share with the other survivor. You are descendants of the powered people who HYDRA’s god was supposed to command. You fear your general’s return. You joined SHIELD, Agent Wen, to fight against the organization that sought to bring him back, especially after I destroyed your home and family. What does his name translate to in English? Bee-nest? No- Hive . You called the Diviner a key, yes? A key I could never open, the ‘start of something beautiful’. You said I will ‘never receive a gift.’” He still remembered her words that specifically from three years ago? Daisy was frozen with a hand over the door handle. Hive’s name had shot her heartrate up to levels no normal human could have survived. She needed to know how much he’d put together.
“Get to the point, for fuck’s sake. I don’t need you anymore, Reinhardt. I can kill you right now, and end this villain monologue.”
“Yes, you can. With your powers .” Daisy turned around to face the Nazi, and his grin could only be described as predatory. “You and your sister have powers. If only I had taken her blood and organs as I’d planned, I would have gained whatever powers she has. But no matter. If there are two of you, there are more. The Diviner may not be a weapon, but you are. It made you into one, didn’t it? And some day, when I get out of this hole in the ground, you and your people will be my weapons.” Daisy thrust out her hand, and with a wave of vibrations Reinhardt was sent flying across the room, smashing into the brick wall above his bed. He fell onto the cot, sitting up while leaning against the wall. Daisy was happy to see his glasses were cracked, and he looked to be in pain. Reinhardt chuckled darkly as blood seeped into the white of his hair. “And you wonder why my definition of human is so narrow. Even if your blood was pure, you would still be nothing more than a weapon.” Daisy let out another burst of power, and his head snapped back into the wall. Her breathing was so heavy she was on the edge of hyperventilating. All these years later, and this pathetic man still terrified her. What was wrong with her? Why was she this weak?
“You’re right. I’m not human, I'm another species entirely, made by the Kree. But I am nobody’s weapon. You’re an ant under my boot.”
“Yet you fear me. And you are right to do so. I may be an ant before a being such as yourself, a boot if you wish to stretch the metaphor, but you are still vermin . You, your entire village, your sister who begged for her life, and your crippled fiancé. Maybe, when my sentence is commuted, I’ll go hunt down your sister again so I can compare how you two respond to my experiments. Then, when I have powers like yours, we’ll both be boots. Assuming you survive, of course.” Daisy took a deep breath to stop herself from committing a murder in cold blood, even if he did deserve it, and stormed out of the room. Jiaying wasn’t her sister, and she had a very complicated view of the mother who’d tried to kill her, but she wouldn’t wish Reinhardt’s torture on anybody. She slammed the door behind her, locking it, and blowing past the guard, ignoring his questions about her well-being. Still hyperventilating, she kept her head down until she reached May’s door, and only knocked once before opening it. Her mom looked up from her desk, locked eyes with Daisy, and took a shaky breath as her powers kicked in, and she sensed what her daughter felt. May wrapped Daisy in a hug, and the younger woman sucked in a few deep breaths in tandem with her mother.
“Reinhardt?”
“He figured it out. He knows about Inhumans.” May squeezed her shoulder, and it managed to ground her a bit.
“He can’t hurt you from inside that cell. What do you need to do next?” Daisy wiped a tear away, and nodded to herself. May was right, as usual.
“I need to call Carter. I have to take a team to Kuwait City, I think she’ll say yes. There’s one more Monolith fragment left to grab.”
August 20, 1958
Ornate double doors swung open, and Ali’s next meeting walked into his foyer. He was a busy man, one of the richest and more powerful in the Arab Gulf, an oil baron to rival Rockefeller, head of HYDRA in the Middle East. Even this meeting, about a possible trade deal with China, was barely a blip on his radar. The woman he was meeting with strode confidently into the room, taking a seat across the table from Ali without a word. She was dressed in plain worker’s clothes, the style of Chairman Mao, unadorned aside from a pin of the PRC’s flag on her lapel. Her hair was in a bun that looked almost painfully tight, and left no illusions about her severity. She was beautiful, but the dangerous glint in her eyes stopped him from going any further down that road. The diplomat smiled tightly, but there was no joy in it. Ali was familiar with this style of hardass diplomat, and he knew exactly how to deal with them. He spoke in English, having been informed that this woman spoke it as well.
“Miss Chan. Welcome.”
“Mister Abbas. We have business to take care of.” Her English had just a hint of a Chinese accent to it, and she set a heavy briefcase on the table between them.
“Indeed we do. Oil for cash, yes? How does it feel for a devout Communist such as yourself to be striking such capitalist deals?” The smile she showed was dangerous enough that he regretted asking the question in the first place.
“We all make sacrifices for our people.”
The negotiations lasted half an hour, each minute more tedious than the last. Eventually, finally, the stiff-necked diplomat slid over the briefcase to him. Ali opened it, and was pleased to see stacks of American bills. The agreed upon amount. He leafed through a stack just to be sure they were real, and was pleased to see that they were. He didn’t notice the quarter tucked away amongst the sheets, but if he had, he wouldn’t have thought anything of it. Closing the briefcase and handing it off to an assistant, he accepted a pile of papers to sign in return, while Chan did the same with a stack of her own. Just before he was about to finish, she pulled something from her pocket. He looked up, curious, to see her fidgeting with a small coin. She squeezed it, then set it down on the table. She spoke before he could ask any questions, her accent now American. Too late, he realized he’d been played.
“Go,” was all she said. The ground shook once, dust falling from the ceiling, and before he could even shout his guards crumpled to the floor, dead. The woman was standing now, having moved too fast for him to see, with a tiny pistol in her hand, barrel still smoking. Her grin turned even more dangerous, and the gun turned to him. “This doesn’t have to end with any more bloodshed, Mr. Abbas.” Ali wasn’t a fighter, he had no idea what to do in this situation. He stayed in his chair, shaking with fear and adrenaline, staring down the barrel of a gun that his guards should have found.
“Who the hell are you! What do you want!”
“Someone who just needed access to your vault. Sorry about the song and dance.” More explosions sounded in the distance, and Ali heard screams and pleas for help in Arabic.
“I’ll have your head for this!”
“Yeah, yeah. You could try. But if you do, two more will take its place.” His mouth went dry. No, she couldn’t mean- “Mr. Malick and Dr. Zola send their regards, and apologize for the inconvenience, but you have something we need.” He was about to sputter out a reply, but a man dressed head-to-toe in black tactical gear burst into the room. complete with a mask and goggles. Poor idiot must be dying in the desert heat. He was armed to the teeth, covered in knives and guns, with a very scary-looking rifle in his hands.
“Ma’am. We have it.” His accent was Eastern European- probably a mercenary, then. At his boss’ expectant raised eyebrow, the merc shouted behind him in some Slavic language, and two more tactically-dressed men came in carrying a crate. Ali recognized it- he kept his Monolith shard in that goddamn crate. He knew Malick had lost his, but was he this desperate to get his status back? Malick had informed the other heads of the destruction of the Monolith nearly two years ago, blaming it on the SHIELD team from the future. What was the point of stealing Ali’s? Had it all been a power grab, an attempt to grow Malick’s influence? The two men set down the crate, and the woman- Chan was definitely not her real name- cracked open the box with one hand, while keeping her eye and gun trained on Ali. She smiled when she confirmed its contents, and slipped her pistol into her belt.
“Bring me the gun.”
“No! Please! You can’t!” Ali begged, but she ignored him as her mercenary relayed the orders in his language. Another soldier entered the room, this one carrying what he recognized as one of the weapons that Malick’s alien buddy had provided. A Chronicom Hunter Rifle, he’d called it. Those bastards had a lot to answer for. The woman took the gun from her underling, methodically checked it over, and aimed it directly at Ali’s chest.
“Watch me.” She fired, but instead of a searing bolt of red plasma, Ali saw a streak of blue leap from the weapon, before it struck him and he lost consciousness.
-
Daisy laughed with glee as her team’s Stark-produced Quinjet took off from just outside Kuwait City. The Monolith shard was secure, HYDRA would likely grow more suspicious of their own, and documents and money had been stolen too. She couldn’t have asked for a better reintroduction to command. Everything had gone perfectly. A few Howling Commando walkie-talkie quarters with built-in tracking beacons, one stolen set of Chinese diplomatic credentials, and an hour was all it took to give HYDRA a swift kick in the balls. Stowing the Monolith fragment until she was on her own, she grinned at the team that had made the op work.
“You really sold the mercs thing, Friedman. I didn’t realize all your guys spoke Polish.” Yossi smiled back as he peeled off his overdramatic mask and goggles, letting his helmet drop to the floor. He gestured towards the half-dozen other men doing the same thing: the team he’d put together to fight HYDRA on the front lines.
“None of them do, they were obeying the orders you’d already given. Just an extra bit of theater.”
“Well they were obeyed to perfection.”
“It was a good plan. Down to the Chronicom gun on stun mode instead of an ICER. Do you think he’ll really buy it? Blame Malick and Zola for this?”
“Almost definitely not, but it’ll keep him second guessing for a couple days. If we’re lucky, he might lash out at Malick before he realizes what happened.” Friedman laughed, and carefully stowed a roll of the Howling Commandos’ quarters. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?”
“It feels good to be back in the field. And back in command. Never thought I’d miss it, but I did.” Following orders from May was easy enough, but these 1950s agents were almost universally insufferable. “The diplomat cover story was a huge pain in the ass, though. Hours and hours of research on the Chinese economy and oil needs… goddamn.”
“At least we got to shoot some squids.”
“With zero casualties.”
“Does that mean we can expect you back in command again soon, Agent Wen?” He winked as he said her ‘last name’.
“Yeah. It does.”
“Good. We need more COs like you.” Not too long ago, Daisy would’ve been shocked by a statement like that. Now, she didn’t even disagree. She had the last Monolith fragment now, and a weight she’d been carrying since Andrew died for her had been lifted from her shoulders. It had taken years of theft, raids, and intelligence gathering, but SHIELD had taken the stones from every head of HYDRA, and Daisy had destroyed all the others. In a couple hours, she’d destroy this one too, and she’d finally be free.
Notes:
Time's starting to move a bit faster- we do have a lot of ground to cover. Writing Reinhardt always makes me nauseous, he's just so disgusting.
Next week: June, 1960
Comments and kudos appreciated!
Chapter 15
Notes:
Update's a bit early this week, I'll be travelling tomorrow so I decided to post early rather than late. I'll be back to Friday updates next week. As for the new character tags- those'll start to show up and be relevant over the next five or so chapters.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
June 7, 1960
Jack’s chest hurt, and it was only gonna get worse if he kept having to raise his voice. He regretted the years he’d spent giving Sousa a hard time for his leg more with each passing day. The last thirteen years had been a very rude awakening, and he was no longer the man he’d been before following Carter to LA; but no matter how much he’d changed, some things never seemed to. Bureaucracy was still a shitshow. He’d fought to get himself into the high-level meetings about what to do next on the HYDRA front- he might report to Sousa, but he wanted his own voice. Not that it made much difference when all of the most stubborn people he knew were bickering. Both Sousas- Daniel and his wife, Louise’s mother Mei, Stark, Phillips, Marge, and Gabe Jones all had their own opinions about how to proceed, and none of them were quiet about it. As near as he could tell, the Sousas and Wen were in one camp, Stark and Carter in a second, Phillips was stubbornly refusing to listen to anybody, and Jack and Jones were staying mostly quiet so far. When he did have something to say, he had to shout to be heard, aggravating his old wound. In all honesty, Jack had lost the thread of conversation ten minutes ago, when they started tallying up how much alien weaponry HYDRA had.
SHIELD had been waging war against HYDRA from the shadows for five years, now, but there was only so much they could do. They’d been mostly successful at blocking HYDRA from recruiting more of its people into SHIELD, managed to arrest some of its members by feigning Soviet connections, and raided many of its secret, non-SHIELD affiliated facilities. Most of HYDRA’s leadership had been mapped out and were under close surveillance. Phillips thought it was time to strike immediately, that the remaining members of HYDRA who couldn’t be dislodged so easily needed to be removed from their positions immediately. Stark and Carter wanted to launch a strike within six months, giving them time to level the technological and strategic playing field before striking. The family unit, on the other hand, were subverting every expectation he had.
Jack had gotten to know both Sousas very well over the last few years. He and Daniel had always been friends, but they’d gotten closer since the return-from-the-dead that had nearly ruined Jack’s life. He had- he’d loved Daniel for years, even if he knew he’d never do anything about it. Sousa didn’t feel the same, he’d made his peace with that a very long time ago. Watching him with Carter had been incredibly painful, and he’d withdrawn himself from their circles to avoid getting hurt. After Daniel had died, Jack tried to make up for it as best he could, spending time with his grieving family and trying to give some meaning to his friend’s death. Working with Louise had been absolutely fascinating. She was the most skilled agent he’d ever seen, incredibly witty, and way too smart for her own good. Jack wasn’t sure where Daniel had found her, but he was glad he had. The jealousy he probably should’ve felt had been (mostly) eclipsed by the fact that Louise was a friend too, and he enjoyed seeing them both happy.
This? This didn’t make any sense. Daniel was arguing for waiting , while his wife and mother-in-law nodded their agreement.
“Six months isn’t enough time,” Daniel said, “the more we go after them, the farther into hiding they’ll run. This isn’t a war, we can’t fight it like one. We need to fight this like an infestation- rats, or cockroaches. Stop the source first. Make sure you know the scope of the problem before you go after the pests.” Mei drummed her fingers on the table.
“HYDRA is nothing if not resilient. We can’t ever assume we’re smarter than them. The second we do, we’re dead. If we remember that they’re five steps ahead, and have backups for their backups, layers and layers of agents, we might stand a chance at getting rid of them. We need more time. More recon, small-scale ops. Stop them from growing while we figure out how bad this is,” she argued. Carter jabbed a finger at the three offending agents by way of reply.
“You three showed up on my doorstep five years ago, and by God I will never forget it. You said if you had SHIELD resources you would deliver me HYDRA ‘on a silver platter’. Your exact words.” Jack had never heard this story before, but Carter wasn’t done. “I gave you all the resources and reach you could want. I don’t have a problem with your work, in fact, I’m thrilled with it. You did exactly what you promised. It’s been a pleasure working with your operation, every day I’m stunned by your talent and accomplishments. So why won’t you act now that you’ve done what you needed?”
“We’ve been dealing with HYDRA for… a while. We need to be sure, Carter. If there’s one thing we’ve learned with them, it’s not to try to put the puzzle together before you have all the pieces,” Louise argued.
“Agent Carter has more experience dealing with HYDRA than anyone else alive!” Phillips roared. All three members of the Sousa-Wen contingent looked like they were about to argue, and all three closed their mouths at once. It was almost uncanny. Jack’s attention was quickly stolen, however, by Jones slamming his fist into the table, causing everyone in the room to jump. Once he had everyone’s attention, he took a deep breath and leaned forward in his chair.
“I have a compromise that might be agreeable.” Phillips nodded his approval, and the Howling Commando continued. “Bucky. He knows everything HYDRA does, right? And he’s their most dangerous weapon. If we free him, we’ll get all the info we could need, and shoot them in the foot at the same time.” Jack was intrigued. He’d heard about Barnes being HYDRA’s brainwashed, super-serumed Winter Soldier, but he wasn’t sure how much could be done for him now. Stark seemed to agree.
“Gabe, I understand what you’re trying to do here. It’s a good idea. But whoever the Winter Soldier is, we have no way of knowing if we’ll be able to break the spell HYDRA’s got him under. This is a risk, even if we knew where he was, or had any way to know what he’s up to. We’ll just have to… wait for him to mess up? That doesn’t sound like any Bucky I know.”
“We have to try! We can’t just abandon Bucky Barnes to get tortured and brainwashed and frozen by the people who blasted him off a fucking train! Jones is right, we need to get him out,” Louise all but begged. He’d never seen her change her mind about anything - why could Jones convince her about this? Mei’s eyes lit up, and she spoke excitedly, glancing at Thompson before she revealed what had just occurred to her.
“I know where he’ll be in three years.” The room exploded with questions and a uniformly puzzled expression graced everyone’s face- except for Louise, who crossed her arms across her chest and nodded slowly.
“Oh. Then. That’s… risky, mom. And high-profile.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“What the hell are you two talking about?” Jack demanded. Did they have access to intelligence that he didn’t? They had the same clearance. Even Daniel looked baffled now, though he said nothing to contradict his wife and mother-in-law.
“It’s complicated, but HYDRA has an assassination planned in late ‘63. If I say where, when, and who right now, they might cancel it. We can’t let that happen, it’s our best shot. And it gives us the time we need”
“Then we start moving three months before, make sure the assassination fails,” Phillips proposed. “We’ll capture Barnes, get ready to move on the bases we know about. While we work on trying to break whatever brainwashing they have, we’ll strike. If he flips, great. It would be good to have him back. But they’ll be down a soldier either way. Everyone in agreement?” One by one, everyone around the table voiced their agreement. It was done, then. In 1963, HYDRA would fall.
“Now, moving on to the next item on our agenda…”
-
Jack paused for a moment as the meeting wrapped up. He closed his briefcase, but noticed over the rim of his glasses that Mei, Louise, Sousa, and Phillips were speaking quietly in a corner as Jones and Carter chatted by the door. Jack had never been one to keep his nose in his own business, and they weren’t exactly keeping their voices down.
“Are the rumors true? Is Malick feeding SHIELD advanced technology?” the elder agent Wen asked.
“ Malick isn’t doing anything. Some people in R&D have some very advanced new computer systems, that is all,” Phillips assured her. “It’s excellent work, very innovative.”
“Hydra people or SHIELD people?” Daniel demanded.
“Your job is supposed to be figuring that out, Agent Sousa.”
“What sort of advanced computer systems?” Louise asked, her eyes narrowing.
“Damned if I know, it all gives me a headache. But one agent did have this excellent proposal for combining them with hypothetical space tech to deploy a satellite network, armed with lasers and powered by the sun. The ultimate defense against any enemy. I was very impressed. It would be at least fifteen years until we could do anything of the sort, but it’s a great concept.” Jack thought it was a terrible idea. That sort of weapon was too dangerous, and sounded way too easy to hijack. Computers weren’t reliable. Even if they were, his time with Whitney Frost had proven to him that some things were just too dangerous for people to have their hands on. Lasers in space would definitely fall into that category. Lou and her mother exchanged an unreadable look, before Mei very cautiously asked,
“Director, please, this is very important. What did they call the proposal?”
“Project Insight.” Jack could’ve sworn the temperature in the room dropped three degrees, and the look that mother and daughter exchanged was filled with more fear than he’d ever seen from either of them. Even Daniel looked shaken, and he rarely did.
“Director Phillips. I need you to trust me. This is a terrible, terrible idea. You have no idea what you’re setting into motion.” Louise’s usual lighthearted manner had completely disappeared, replaced by a mix of determination and terror. Her tone drew Carter’s attention, and she bid Jones farewell as he left. Carter walked over to the group, joining the conversation, while Jack watched from a distance.
“Insight is the next phase in global security. It will someday allow SHIELD to fight battles without risking a single agent’s life. Besides, it’s just a pipe dream now.” Daniel put a hand on Peggy’s shoulder, speaking rapidly and with a calmness it was clear he didn’t feel.
“Peggy, please. These new technologies are vulnerabilities, surely you can appreciate that. HYDRA’s done this before. They’re giving us tech that they control and a system that will allow them total control overnight.” Done this before? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Jack surprised himself by standing up, and for possibly the first time in his life, speaking up in Daniel’s defense against a superior officer. To advocate that SHIELD should throw away a source of power, no less. What the hell had happened to him?
“Sousa’s right, Marge. This is dangerous. You’re giving them an opening we can’t afford. We have every advantage right now. Whatever tech they’re offering, wherever they’re getting it from, it doesn’t matter. It’s not worth the risk.” Everyone turned to look at Jack in shock, a mix of gratitude and surprise in Daniel’s eyes. He offered Thompson a tiny nod of acknowledgment, and Jack returned it. He wasn’t sure what knowledge the Wens and Daniel had that made them so sure about this, but he didn’t need to know in order to agree with them.
“Really? Jack Thompson thinks we should shelve something powerful, and not do something for our own gain?” He winced at Peggy’s comment- it was fair, but still hurt. Jack had had one too many bad run-ins with Stark Tech and Zero Matter over the years to still believe that SHIELD could control all the technology it had access to. Phillips silenced her with a raised hand.
“Your points will all be taken into consideration.” Louise rolled her eyes, pointing a finger into Phillips’ face close enough to make him go cross-eyed.
“Which means you won’t do shit even though you know damn well we know what we’re talking about.” The Director turned red, Peggy and Jack shifting uncomfortably. Her husband and mother seemed behind her, though, even while Mei shot a nervous glance in Jack’s direction. He got the memo and quickly made his way to the door, even while the shouting match continued behind him.
“You work for me and for the United States, Miss Sousa. It would be foolish to ignore any weapon available in this fight, and you know it. Don’t let your ego blind you. You don’t make the decisions”
“What I know is exactly how this is going to go. They didn’t even change the name! You’re an idiot if you won’t listen to us, and it’s gonna end with HYDRA frying you with a fucking space laser!” Jack didn’t hear the rest of her spiel, but he didn’t need to. His head was spinning with the fragments that he’d caught, all of Louise and her mother’s oddities starting to fall into place. There were answers here, but his brain was moving faster than he could keep track of. How no one had seemed to have heard of her before she started working with Daniel, despite apparently belonging to a dynasty of incredibly skilled SHIELD agents. The innate trust that Daniel had in anything she said. Her rock-solid belief that she was right about this, and countless other bits of HYDRA trivia she seemed certain of despite never providing a source. Her confusion around some technology and current events, sometimes using words he’d never heard of before. How quickly she’d risen the ranks from anonymity to reporting directly to Phillips and Carter. She’d saved Daniel’s life, back in 1955. Helped him go into hiding. Right after that, Stark’s technology started improving, and the war against HYDRA began. There was something there, something obvious connected all the pieces of Louise Wen Sousa and her mother. Jack was missing something. He had to know if he could trust the woman he considered a friend.
So naturally, like the good spy he was, as soon as he’d dropped his papers at his office, Jack started digging. Personnel files, mission reports, mentions of them in other sources, Louise’s wedding and birth certificates (Jack had been to the Sousa’s wedding, he didn’t know why he bothered with that one), Mei’s wedding and birth certificates (who the hell was Phil Garner? That was Louise’s dad?). But the more he looked, the more questions he had. Nothing seemed to make sense, there were no inconsistencies, all the obvious gaps had been filled. He spent an entire afternoon researching people he knew incredibly well, and there were no answers for the question he couldn’t even put into words. Until eventually, he found old duty rosters buried at the bottom of a box- originals, signed by Carter and Sousa. They were different from the newer ones, also signed by Carter and Sousa. The originals lacked the Wens’ names, but were otherwise identical. Jack stared at the piece of paper in his hands for a full minute. He was arms-deep in a filing box, all but lost in SHIELD and SSR archives, wasting hours chasing a dead end looking for… something. He wasn’t sure what, yet, but something was going on here. This was proof. He just had to figure out what it was proving.
June 8, 1960
Jack was not expecting an invitation to dinner with the Sousas just a day after their meeting, but he’d run into Daniel unexpectedly on a work trip to DC, and his friend had insisted. It didn’t hurt that Sousa was an excellent cook, and he had something he needed to ask the couple. He’d gone digging even further through their files, and didn’t like any of what he’d found, but between the two of them they’d saved his life at least ten times over. He still wasn’t sure exactly what was going on, but he was pretty sure HYDRA didn’t have anything to do with it- aside from the Wens’ weird ability to pull rock-solid intel on them out of nowhere, but no mole would do that- so he decided to just ask. Was his decision motivated almost exclusively by righteous fury with a bit of jealousy thrown in? Sure. But that didn’t stop him from bringing his gun to dinner along with a bottle of wine. The Sousas’ apartment had always been a little odd- there was a hula girl on their mantlepiece, and when he’d asked about it once, Louise had said it was a family tradition. She claimed to have never been to any Pacific islands (Jack wished he could say the same), but insisted that Tahiti was a magical place. The record collection was constantly being updated with the kind of shit teenagers liked, but she always insisted the new records were ‘classics’. Maybe he’d get some answers about those oddities tonight. Eventually, Jack pounced on a lull in conversation during the (admittedly excellent and very enjoyable) meal to ask an awkward question.
“Sousa, did you know your wife isn’t who she claims to be?” The couple exchanged one of those wordless-communication married people looks, and Jack shoved aside a pang of jealousy while he waited for him to respond. Both of them carefully set down their silverware, but Daniel spoke first.
“What do you mean, Jack?”
“Her records are falsified. You just appeared out of nowhere five years ago, Louise. You and your mother, and you immediately became SHIELD’s best and most trusted. How the hell did that happen? I know Carter’s in on it too. Thought I’d tell you before Stark and Phillips as a courtesy.” She shrugged and folded her arms across her chest, leaning back in her chair. Daniel didn’t look at all surprised, and while Jack wasn’t sure what that meant, it couldn’t be good.
“Guess I’m just that good.” Jack drew his pistol and aimed it across the table, directly at her forehead.
“Enough games. Are you HYDRA?”
Neither of the Sousas seemed particularly concerned, which was much more disconcerting than a freak-out would’ve been. Louise’s gaze flicked carelessly to Jack’s gun, and it began to shake in his hand. He watched open-mouthed as the shaking grew more intensive, and finally the revolver gave out, breaking into its component parts in his grip. Louise smiled sweetly, while Jack stared at the pieces of his gun, strewed lazily across the table in front of him. What the fuck. She turned to Daniel, squeezing his hand, while Jack just stared.
“Honey, can you get the photo album please? And more alcohol. We’re going to need a lot more alcohol.” Daniel grinned at Jack as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, and left to do as his wife asked. Jack found his voice, stammering out a question that he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to. There was a tiny screw in the bowl of potatoes, and a bullet mixed in with the green beans.
“Who… who are you?” The woman he’d thought of as a friend grinned dangerously, and extended her hand across the table for him to shake. He took it by pure reflex, and felt a buzz from under her skin, like she was crawling with insects just under the surface. Every hair on his arm stood up.
“My name's Daisy Johnson. We should talk.”
-
“Wait, so what’s your deal with Jones?”
“His grandson died for me. I owe him.”
“Oh. I just thought you were sleeping together.”
“ Thompson!”
June 9, 1960
At 5am, Daisy woke without any need for an alarm. Some habits never really went away. Just this once, though, she regretted it. She was way too comfortable to want to move. Dealing with Thompson had been exhausting- everything had gotten sorted out, but that man had a talent for being a pain in Daisy’s ass. After Jack had calmed down, accepted their explanation, and eventually left for his hotel, she and her husband had passed out almost immediately. They were still curled against each other in bed, and Daisy really didn’t want to move. Both of her legs were wrapped around Daniel’s one, and his steady breath was tickling her collarbone. Their arms were too intertwined for her to have any idea who started and ended where. Getting to wake up like this was probably the best part of married life, and she was lucky enough to get to sleep in her own bed almost every night. She’d gotten used to bases and mobile HQs, but having a routine and someone to come home to was its own kind of rewarding too. She felt safe in Daniel’s arms, even though she was the one capable of levelling a city block with her bare hands. She woke up at five most days, going for a run around the city or just jogging to her mom’s place nearby to do Tai Chi together- she almost always found time to do so alone if she couldn’t with May. By the time she got back home, Daniel had breakfast made for the both of them, and they were always out the door around the same time. Running up to Lehigh or New York wasn’t uncommon for either of them, and Daisy was sent on field ops more and more often now, but they still spent most of their time at the DC office and the Playground. Just because she’d gotten married didn’t mean she’d turned into a stay-at-home housewife; she still couldn’t cook for shit.
Somehow, she’d ended up leading Hercules’ ops agents. May ran back-end and training now, having retired from the field for a second time, but Daisy was almost always the lead agent on the ground. She was forever grateful that Daniel mostly kept his incessant worrying about her to himself, but still managed to help out professionally. Being the Head of SHIELD’s counterintelligence division meant he still reported to Malick as Head of Defense, and had plenty of non-Hercules duties to take up his time. Losing his ability to work from the shadows had been a necessary sacrifice to build up his legend and put an end to the rumors of his survival, but it had cost him dearly in terms of his ability to sleep- they spent far too many late nights at the Playground instead of at home. Running a top-secret division while also running an above board division was a lot of work, and Daisy could see the stress and exhaustion in the slowly expanding greys, creeping up over the years from Daniel’s temples into the rest of his hair. Not that their personal life was much simpler.
They’d learned the hard way that DC was very much still the south. Their apartment was part of a small building, equipped with an elevator but only five floors. They didn’t have many neighbors, but the ones they did have almost entirely ignored them. She could hear the things they whispered, that no normal human would be able to hear, but Daisy easily could. She was the only non-white person in the building, and not one of her neighbors would let her forget it. Between Daniel’s disability and her race, the two of them were pointedly ignored by the neighborhood. She couldn’t be more grateful for it. When the entire block was trying as hard as possible not to notice them, it made it easy to come and go. It still bothered her, of course, but it was easier to ignore when she spent most of her time working anyway. Most of the people she interacted with were paid to do what she said, and many of those- Thompson, Rose, Stoner, Jones, Friedman, and several others- had become genuine friends. Hosting guests at an actual apartment that was actually hers was an insane experience, something she’d never had to juggle before, but it was… nice, in a weird way. She’d never expected to be having meals with SHIELD legends on a regular basis, let alone to be married to one. Coulson would freak out when he learned what she’d been up to. She’d probably be able to beat him at a SHIELD trivia competition by the time he showed up. There was no way even Coulson knew how Rick Stoner took his coffee.
While she was debating whether or not she could get out of bed, Daniel stirred next to her, pulling his arms tighter around her back. Daisy hummed contentedly, and he threaded his fingers into the hairs on the nape of her neck.
“Morning,” he mumbled. Daisy grinned and kissed the top of his head, but he pulled her into a proper kiss before she could disentangle herself. Neither of them cared about the other’s absolutely disgusting morning breath, and she quickly gave up on getting out of bed any time soon. “Not going for a run?”
“Are you trying to get rid of me, Sousa?”
“Couldn’t even if I wanted to.” She smiled like an idiot and kissed him again. Maybe it wouldn’t be the end of the world if she slept in a little bit longer- or didn’t sleep at all. Just this once.
“There’s other ways of working out.” Daniel laughed against her lips, which settled her internal debate for good.
“I’ll make pancakes after?”
“I love you.”
June 10, 1960
Daisy knocked on the door to the Krazy Kanoe with the back of her knuckles, and was greeted by a familiar face when the peephole slid open.
“Enoch!”
“Password,” the Chronicom droned.
“You invited me here. You’ve known me for years. It’s me.”
“Protocol is protocol, Agent Sousa. I require the password.” Daisy took a moment to stop herself from bursting something, and spoke in a calm tone.
“Swordfish.” The peephole was slid shut, and several locks clicked before the door opened. Enoch titled his head at Daisy in what she’d come to learn was his version of a faint smile.
“It is good to see you again. I have missed you and the team. Come in.” He led her to the bar, past empty tables and over pristine floors. The decor had changed since the last time she’d been here, a couple years earlier, but the vibes hadn’t changed. It was still cozy, almost homey. Ernest Koenig waved at her from a table at the back, where he was poring over what looked like financial reports without bothering to look up. They’d just caught up a few months ago, and he wasn’t a particularly social man when he was working. Koenig’s operation had been a crucial part of SHIELD as long as it had been around, and thanks to Enoch he’d remained totally up to speed on the future, and all the shenanigans Daisy and May had been up to. He was still full of hot air, just like he’d been thirty years ago, and age had only made him crankier, but she considered him a friend.. Daisy returned the wave lazily, and took a seat at the bar. Enoch immediately took his place behind it, and started making a barracoolada faster than she could track his hands. She’d warmed up to the Enoch version of the drink after her… experiences on Kitson, and accepted it gratefully.
“So. If you missed me and the team, why hide away here all these years? We barely see each other.”
“I’m afraid I have not been totally honest with you, Daisy Sousa.”
“Johnson is fine, here. I am gonna need some details though.”
“I have not been completely honest with you, Daisy Johnson. I am aware of Leopold Fitz and Jemma Simmons’ plan.”
“Wait- they had a plan?” There was some rationale to being thrown into the past after all? Not just stopping the Chronicoms?
“They still do. Your presence here is a complication, but not an insurmountable one. I have remained apart from you and Agent May so that I could continue making the preparations that I needed to.” Daisy took another sip of her drink to avoid cursing out this goddamn robot and his goddamn plotting. What the hell was he up to?
“Are you going to give me any more details or am I just supposed to swallow the fact that you’ve been scheming here for thirty years, and that this shit could’ve been avoided?”
“You are supposed to swallow the barracoolada, Agent Johnson.” Enoch’s lips curled in a semblance of a smirk, and Daisy laughed in spite of herself. “I cannot tell you more. It will not end well if I do.”
“I’m already a target, Enoch, I won’t let them get in my brain. They can hack into you!”
“I have self-destruct protocols in place. You are only human.”
“Inhuman.”
“Point taken, but your brain chemistry is almost entirely the same. I believe you spies call this situation a… ‘need to know basis’. You’re familiar with the term, I believe.” Familiar was one word for it. She was terrible at need to know.
“Is this another joke?”
“Not at all. Think of it as a mission.” Enoch reached under the counter, and lifted out a paper-wrapped box, not much bigger than a kid’s lunchbox. It was wrapped in twine, and almost conspicuously nondescript. “Hold onto this box. Keep it safe. You will know when it is needed. Do not look inside -even with your powers-, or open it, or misplace it.” Oh come on, this was evil . She was 36 years old, she could resist the temptation to do something seemingly-harmless that she’d been explicitly told not to do. But Jesus Christ it was so tempting.
“Okay…”
“It is absolutely crucial to the plan that you do this, Agent Johnson. Much depends on it.”
“Okay. I understand. That’s the whole reason you called me up here?”
“Yes. I’m sorry if I inconvenienced you.”
“No, no, it’s fine. I can stay with my sister-in-law and her family for the night, she invited me anyway.” She and Daniel really needed a place in New York, but one apartment was hard enough to afford on government salaries. Jumping from New York to DC and back all the time was exhausting without a private plane. The BUS and Zephyr had spoiled her. The nights she and Daniel spent apart were difficult- she’d been spoiled by his presence too.
“Camila Turner?”
“Yeah, Daniel’s sister.”
“You have become close with the people of this timeline.”
“I have.” Daisy fidgeted with the wedding ring on her finger- perhaps a bit too on the nose, but it was a more durable habit than playing with the daisy she usually wore around her neck.
“Leopold Fitz told me once that that was your greatest strength. He told me you could make friends anywhere you went, even when you shouldn’t. He said the only thing more impressive than how quickly you made friends was how quickly you made enemies.” Daisy scoffed and finished the drink. That sounded way too philosophical for Fitz. What had happened in the time he and Simmons had been away? How long had they spent building their time machine? She rubbed unthinkingly at the scar behind her ear, still angry and red after six years. Her strongest memories of Fitz weren’t the shy, awkward, passionate man she’d known on the BUS, but the cold-hearted Doctor who’d torn her body apart. Every time she saw a photo of him, or was reminded of Fitz, she had to tell herself that that man was dead. The Fitz who was waiting out there, somewhere in the multiverse, for her team to finish its mission was someone else. He hadn’t taken the inhibitor out of her neck while she screamed and begged.
Daisy caught herself almost too late, and stamped out the vibrations she’d been causing just before the glass in her hands could shatter. It was good to know Fitz and Simmons had a plan, if nothing else. A plan that Enoch was in on, and working towards. Maybe, when all this was over, she and May would get to go home. Earth would be saved, again. They’d reunite with Coulson, Mack, Yo-Yo, Jemma, and Deke. Someday, they’d be back. Daisy would see her family again. But in spite of herself, she couldn’t help but wonder what she’d do when they got back. She missed them, but HYDRA was still around, Daisy couldn’t leave her mission unfinished. She couldn’t say goodbye to Daniel, or in good conscience tear him from his family, friends, and job by asking him to come with her. She took a deep breath before she met Enoch’s blank stare.
“Thanks for the drink, and the package. I’ll protect it. It was good to see you, Enoch.” The Chronicom took the glass from in front of Daisy at the same time as she hefted the (surprisingly heavy) parcel under one arm, and he inclined his head in farewell.
“You are welcome here any time, Daisy Johnson.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
Notes:
Many a going-on this chapter. Even a shenanigan or two. Writing from Jack's POV was a ton of fun- he approaches things like a soldier, but he's missing so much crucial information. I don't spend nearly enough time talking about just how weird Daisy must seem to everyone else. Plus, there's absolutely no way he wasn't in love with Sousa for the entirety of AC. None of their interactions were heterosexual.
I know, I know. I skipped the wedding. Have patience- I'll be showing it in a few weeks. Have a tiny bit of fluff instead?
Comments and kudos make me happy, as always. Thanks for reading!
Chapter 16
Notes:
I know this chapter's incredibly short, but I couldn't quite fit it into any others. Once again, I know jackshit about DC and pulled the address out of my ass. I plan to make them move up north as soon as the plot allows it so I can be more geographically accurate.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
September 23, 1960
As had become her routine, Daisy was going on an early morning run around the city that had become her home. The sun hadn’t even come up yet, but she preferred it this way. DC was more peaceful and quiet before all the more sane residents of the city began their days. Besides, it’s not like she was in any danger, even in the dark. Her control over her powers had only grown with the years, with Daisy’s vibrational senses expanding in scope and detail. She’d gotten better at creating more powerful bursts of energy, vibrating more objects at a distance, and even heating and cooling things to some extent. She didn’t even need her gauntlets anymore, except in the most extreme of exertions. It had only taken ten years, but she was finally able to control her powers enough to avoid hurting herself by mistake. Lincoln had warned her that the full process of Terrigenesis could last for months, and it took years of preparation to master Inhuman powers, even with a lifetime of preparation before the Mist. It shouldn’t have surprised her that it took so long to control them, but only in the last few months had it finally clicked. She had finally come into her own. Daisy was even slightly stronger and faster than a human was, now. It was nothing she couldn’t have achieved by working at, but she didn’t have as much muscle as she would need to reach that strength naturally. That wasn’t something she’d ever expected, but it did make sense the Kree would want their warriors as capable as possible. It was at moments like this, in the peaceful pre-dawn, when she didn’t even need her other senses to navigate. Closing her eyes, she made a turn to continue alongside the Potomac, feeling her way purely by the vibrations around her. How could she have ever thought these powers were a curse? This was beautiful.
Her relaxing morning, unfortunately, couldn’t last. She could sense a strange, too-dense, too-energetic form approaching her from an upcoming side street, moving far too fast. Whatever this was, it couldn’t be human. In all likelihood, it was a Chronicom- it felt almost exactly like Enoch. Daisy opened her eyes to find the Chronicom running alongside her, not seeming to be exerting himself at all. He was dressed in regular civilian clothes, but still looked sleazy. His hair was slicked-back, and the grin on his face reminded her too much of Garrett. This was the same one who she’d fought at FDR’s party, who had tried to make a deal with Coulson, who had told Malick where to find Daniel, and who’d been working with HYDRA ever since. The power behind the throne for the last five years. If she was smart, she’d kill him right now, but Coulson would never forgive her if she did. So instead, she just kept running.
“I come unarmed and in peace, Miss Johnson. With an offer that will intrigue you.”
“You’re the Chronicom we’ve been hunting. I think all you’ll do is piss me off.” She was tempted to just kill him here and now, but that would be… rude. And a war crime. Maybe if she kept running, he’d go away, and then she could kill him some other, less morally ambiguous time. Finding and killing the Chronicom had been low on SHIELD’s list of priorities, and remained there. He was dangerous as a source of intel or a shock trooper, but since he didn’t need to eat, breathe, or sleep, finding him had been ruled all but impossible by Carter. For once, Daisy hadn’t disagreed.
“My name is Luke.” Undeterred, the Chronicom kept pace with her.
“You guys really love the Bible theme, huh? Narcissistic, much?”
“Yes, our names often come from your Prophets and Evangelists. This has been Chronicom tradition for a hundred thousand years.”
“What do you want, Luke ?”
“As I said. I have an offer for you.” Still running, Daisy just rolled her eyes.
“If you’re trying to make a deal, that means you know how badly you’re losing.” SHIELD had been successful at keeping HYDRA kneecapped. The organization was still thriving, but beaten back. Aside from SHIELD’s leadership happily accepting all the advanced technology HYDRA had been spoon-feeding them, against the suggestions of Daisy, her family, and Thompson, Luke’s attempts to change the timeline to weaken SHIELD had been failures. He was losing, and he knew it. In their attempts to bring SHIELD down, the Chronicoms had only made it stronger by hand-feeding Daisy and May to their allies in the past. Luke had come to grovel. He was desperate.
“I was under the impression that humans respected offers of armistice or surrender,” Luke deflected.
“Is that what you’re doing? Surrendering?”
“In a sense. Our battle is not one that needs to be fought. You are fighting to preserve a timeline that doesn’t exist, we are fighting for a home in this one now. There’s no need for us to be enemies when our goals are not at odds. We can make peace, Miss Johnson.” His too-calm demeanor was quickly getting on her nerves, but she just continued with her run.
“You made that same offer to Coulson, right? Surrender and you’ll be kind to humans when you rule? A friendly Big Brother?”
“You are not Phil Coulson, nor are you a Chronicom. You have your own motivations. Which is why my offer to you, Miss Johnson, is different. The Chronicoms can send you home.”
“You… you can?” Her step faltered before she caught herself.
“Not immediately, but yes. I can put you in cryofreeze until my people’s timeship returns, and we can then send you back to your original timeline. We did not plan to do such a thing, but we would have been foolish to come here without a way home.” The Chronicoms were returning? Her team would be back someday then too, right? Could she really have a way back home at the end of all this? Swallowing heavily, Daisy finally stopped running on an empty street, turning to face the robot. He was infuriatingly not out of breath at all- but then again, he didn’t need to breathe. He just stood there, hands clasped behind his back, like a creepy mannequin.
“No thank you. I’m quite happy here. Kindly fuck off.” As much as she missed home, she was actually happy here, in a strange way.
“Terrans. You’re all the same. Greedy, lonely, desperate to feel like you belong. Is this really where you want to die, Miss Johnson? Fifty years from home, surrounded by sycophants and bigots? Don’t you want to see your friends again? Breathe clean air, wear clothes you enjoy, use modern technology, live in a world where you don’t have to hide?” It was a tempting thought, she had to admit. She missed the 21st century, for all its shortcomings. But she’d never let Luke have the satisfaction of knowing that, especially after he insulted her entire species.
“I’m not that petty. Sacrificing a planet for my phone back isn’t likely.”
“You enjoy being surrounded by leaded gasoline, chauvinism, and cigarette smoke? This place is slowly killing you.”
“I’ve survived worse.”
“But for how long will that be sustainable?” She’d never slowed down long enough to ask that question, and she didn’t intend to start now.
“You’re not human. You’re a shitty cosplayer. You have no idea how we actually work.”
“I know your kind better than you ever will, Miss Johnson. We studied your friends’ brains for three hundred years. We have watched humanity since you crawled out of the mud. We studied Leo Fitz and Jemma Simmons for longer than you have been alive, and they know you very well indeed.”
“But you don’t really know anything about emotion, do you? You can’t feel anything- at least not the way we do. Enoch can, but you’ve never tried, have you? You came here to offer me a deal, expecting you knew how I’d respond. You were so laughably wrong it’s almost not funny.”
“So you do want to die here?” He haughtily retorted.
“I want to die of old age, but people like me don’t get that lucky. I know I’ll go out fighting. I don’t plan to die as your prisoner, living out my days with the knowledge that I surrendered when I could have kept going. Sorry, you can shove your deal up your shiny metal ass.” Luke’s jaw hardened, and Daisy readied herself for a fight. Prisoner was a generous assumption of her future life with the Chronicoms. Even if they deigned to send her home, which she doubted, she’d just fight the Chronicoms waiting at the Lighthouse. She’d never hand herself over to the enemy like this.
“Then everyone you love will pay the price. Your husband, your so-called mother, your friends at SHIELD. Even your extended family. Your nieces and nephews are so adorable, and I understand you’ve been growing closer with your sister-in-law as well. Her children in particular would suffer from being dragged into our conflict.” Daisy kept her vibrations in check, she was in a residential neighborhood and couldn’t let them loose. But this fucker? He wouldn’t survive the next fifteen minutes. How dare he. Threatening innocents? Let alone her family? She’d been dragged into the Sousa clan half-kicking and screaming, but she loved them all, even the crazy grandmother. Camila’s kids were wonderful, and loved both her and Daniel. No, the robot bastard wouldn’t get away with it.
“That’s another mistake you made- and it’ll be your last. Threatening my family isn’t something you get to walk away from.”
“Have these people become your family so quickly, when so few of them know your true identity? How many will accept you when they learn who you really are? How long until this time’s SHIELD tries to make you just another docile weapon in its arsenal?”
“I’m nobody’s weapon,” she growled.
“Then why is your first response always to kill? You are what your handlers turned you into. A Specialist, yes? That’s what they call you? Go in alone, get the job done. Kill or be killed. No attachments. No love. Just death and betrayal, over and over.” He was saying all the things that Daisy’s mind whispered to her on the too-common nights when she couldn’t sleep, only toss and turn fitfully, plagued by her failures every time she closed her eyes. The nights when even the steady pulse of Daniel’s vibrations beside her, or the weight of his arms, did nothing to dispel the horrors in her head. She was sure tonight would be another such night, after all Luke had said, but for now, she couldn’t afford to go down that road. So she followed her mother’s first lesson instead. One by one, Daisy examined, categorized, and compartmentalized her emotions, setting them aside with a cool detachment born of years of training. Guilt, rage, fear, grief, anxiety, self-hatred. All locked away, to be used when they were helpful to her. She took a deep breath, letting her powers pool within her, vibrations slowly building as she stoked her strength with the emotions Luke had been stupid enough to dredge up.
“My first response? Not usually. I believe in second chances, and forgiveness, and all that. I’ve had a lot of enemies turn into allies. But you? You went after my people. So for that, yes. I’ll kill you.” The air around her thrummed with power, and too late, the Chronicom realized his mistake. He was no predictor, no anthropologist. He was a Hunter, and even compared to others of his kind, he understood humans only in the way humans understand their pets. False confidence was born of long docility, left unquestioned until a gesture is misunderstood and a happy dog becomes a snarling, snapping beast. Luke had time only for a single step backwards before Daisy’s fist slammed into his chin from below, carrying with it a wave of vibrations powerful enough to crack buildings in two. Daisy put all she had behind that single punch, and much like the Chronicom in a New York alleyway in 1931, Luke could not withstand the Inhuman. The robot’s neck snapped backwards even as his stolen skin dissolved and circuits were crushed. Launched twenty feet into the air, Luke’s lower half crashed to the ground a block away from Daisy, his torso, arms, and head scattering across the road. The remainder of the vibrations dissipated harmlessly into the air, leaving the surrounding buildings without a scratch.
Daisy cursed to herself, she couldn’t exactly leave a dead alien robot lying around. Looking around, she spotted a nearby payphone, and dug a dime out of her pocket. She still hadn’t gotten used to how cheap everything was in the past- although the scantness of her and Daniel’s government salaries often made her sober up very fast. She had more money now than she ever had in her life, the money she’d stolen as Quake notwithstanding, but she’d never lost the street kid habit of counting pennies. Daisy gave the operator (another thing she’d had to get used to) the directions she needed to connect her to Peggy Carter’s office directly. Not an easy feat for a regular civilian. Thankfully, she picked up on the third ring.
“Hey, Carter? Yeah, I need a cleanup and containment team on uh… Pennsylvania and 14th. No, just a cleanup crew. Got some alien stuff here that needs to be hauled away. I got the Chronicom. Yeah, I know. He wanted to offer me a deal. No, obviously I didn’t take it. Yup, I’d appreciate it if you let him know. HYDRA should lose some of their advantage now. See you soon.” Hanging up the payphone, Daisy let out a breath she’d been holding for five years. She kicked most of Luke’s remains into a pile at the foot of a bench, and sat down to wait as the SHIELD sirens grew louder in the distance. Once they got here, she’d have to file some paperwork and get debriefed. Then, she could go home, take a very long shower, and cry.
Notes:
Daisy should get to murder someone every few years, as a treat.
I'm of the opinion that the Chronicoms are genuinely stupid. The whole 'be unpredictable' thing from late S7 shows that they're not actually that good at understanding humans, and Sybil's whole future-prediction-power is really just analyzing probabilities. Plus, Luke doesn't have the time stream, and he couldn't read it if he did. He's just a hunter, a grunt. So yes, is him offering a deal and then threatening her family stupid? Absolutely, that's the point.
Malick, Reinhardt, and Zola, unfortunately, are actually smart, and they'll be doing their thing next week, in February of 1961.
I'm a college student and my semester starts up again next week. Unfortunately, my efforts to try and get a stockpile of chapters before I go back fell through, and I have no idea if being at school will let me write more or less. I will not be abandoning this fic without announcing it, any changes to update schedules or a hiatus would be posted.
I've also been infected with an AOS/The Legend of Korra crossover idea lately, and if/when I finish this monstrosity that'll be my next project
Chapter 17
Notes:
I got bored, so this week's chapter is a few hours early. It's part one of a two-part Red Room arc, and yes that comes with quite a bit of baggage, so fair warning. There aren't really isn't any Red Room awfulness this week, but there will be in Chapter 18.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
February 14, 1961
Daisy inhaled the greasy, fried, sugary scent of her neighborhood diner as she stepped through its glass doors. Ever since arriving in the past with Coulson in Nevada, she’d loved the aesthetics and the horrifically unhealthy food of retro Americana diners. Plus, it was a special occasion. Ever since Luke had died, HYDRA had been scrambling. Their technology stagnated, their leadership lost its leg up, and their recruitment slowed. HYDRA was still incredibly dangerous, of course, but SHIELD was making real progress. Her on-the-ground missions had slowly become more and more successful, as had those May and Daniel oversaw. HYDRA had taken enough blows in recent months that she and Daniel could do something incredibly rare for a couple of SHIELD agents: take a day off.
They’d decided that they deserved a lazy, self-indulgent Valentine’s Day to themselves. No HYDRA, no missions, no paperwork, no bullshit. Daisy hadn’t even set an alarm, and woke at ten instead of five. When she and Daniel had finally managed to completely wake up, and to begin to get out of bed, Daisy had had only one thought on her mind.
“Pie.”
“What?” her husband had asked.
“I want pie. For breakfast.”
“This is why I married you. You’re a genius. Pure, unparalleled, genius.”
“I love you too. Cherry?”
“Please.”
And so Daisy found herself in their favorite neighborhood diner, a spot just down the road from their apartment with comfortable booths and huge glass windows. The food was always delicious, and they kept pies on the counter, in a half dozen flavors. Very few customers were around, it was late enough that the breakfast rush was over but too early for workers on their lunch breaks. Only a handful of tables were occupied, and the staff seemed to be running a skeleton crew for the moment. The entire atmosphere reminded her of the place her team had gone to after the disaster with AIDA, where Enoch had captured them and sent them to the future. They’d never gotten to try the pie there. A blonde waitress with a gigantic smile, perfect curls, and a garish amount of red lipstick took her order. Daisy had never seen her before, and her instincts were telling her something about this waitress was different. She didn’t carry herself like a civilian.
“What can I get for ya hun?” Her midwestern accent was almost painfully over-the-top. She’d met plenty of people with that accent before, but this woman’s whole… thing seemed like she was almost too textbook America. It made Daisy’s racism detector tingle preemptively.
“One cherry pie and two coffees. To go.” The waitress scribbled it down and passed her order off to the kitchen.
“Your order will be ready soon, we’re just gonna warm that pie up for you. Can I get a name for it?” That was odd, they never asked for her name here. Plus, it wasn’t like she’d be going anywhere while she waited.
“Piper Fitzsimmons.” The waitress’ eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly slightly, and Daisy knew she’d made the right call by giving a fake name, as opposed to the other fake name she was probably expecting to hear. God, this was exhausting. Was one day off too much to ask for?
“You don’t look like a Piper.”
“I get that a lot,” she grumbled. This woman was starting to aggravate her.
“Tough morning?” The waitress inquired cheerfully. Small talk too? Jesus fucking Christ.
“No, it’s been pretty nice actually. What, do I look that bad?” She chuckled at her own terrible joke. The waitress’ plastic grin expanded until it was almost predatory.
“It wasn’t a question. You’re about to have a tough morning. They’re after you. Both of us, really. It’s convenient for us to both be here at the same time.” Her tone didn’t drop in cheeriness, but Daisy’s adrenaline spiked. She fucking knew something was going on.
“Who’s after us? Who are you?”
“An old friend of Peggy and your husband’s. My old bosses want us both dead.” So she did know who Daisy was? And worked at this place now? Fucking hell, how long had this woman been planning this encounter? And who were her old bosses?
“They can have you, why should I care?”
“Because you’ll need my help to shut them down for good, and without me, they’ll just keep throwing assassins at you and your loved ones until someone succeeds.”
“Who’s they?”
“Them, of course. The squids and the Leviathan.” Shit.
“Hydra and the Red Room. You were a Widow.”
“Clever girl. Stalin didn’t take kindly to failure, so now I’m a free agent.”
“What does the Red Room want with SHIELD?”
“They want it gone, but they wouldn’t be trying so hard if they didn’t… owe a few favors.” So HYDRA was just using the assassins to do their dirty work and kill her. Lovely. Couldn’t they have done this literally any other day? Were Daniel and her mother alright?
“For all I know you’re just trying to use SHIELD to get your old bosses off your ass.”
“Of course that’s what I’m trying to do, silly! But what kind of SHIELD agent would you be if you didn’t try to stop them.” A bell rang in the kitchen, and the ‘waitress’ disappeared through the staff door. Daisy took a breath to steady herself and reached out with her senses, detecting no guns nearby. Small mercies. As she did, the woman returned with a pie box, and slid it over the counter to Daisy while she filled two cups of coffee. “You know who I am?” To her surprise, Daisy found that she did.
“Dottie Underwood.” The woman’s grin returned, and she winked at Daisy.
“In the flesh. Peggy never did accept that it was just a stupid pseudonym, never called me anything else. I’m flattered that they tell stories about me though.” Dottie leaned across the counter, stage-whispering to Daisy. “You know, there’s a rumor out there that you’re Enhanced. The last Widow I killed said they were sending only the best after you, because you were extra dangerous. They don’t believe the rumors, but even so, word is you’re a badass. Is that true?” Before Daisy could respond, she felt the door swing open behind her. Her powers had long ago allowed her to ignore the first rule of spycraft. “Oh well. I guess we’re about to find out.” Underwood dropped behind the register, and Daisy could feel five people behind her raising guns. She had just enough time to vault over the counter, ducking behind it, before the shooting started. The screaming began only seconds later, and thankfully Daisy felt the staff rush out a back door through the kitchen. The clients had dropped to the ground, and the assailants had fanned out through the diner, all firing at the two women huddled behind a rapidly-disintegrating counter.
“Please tell me there’s knives and zip ties in the kitchen?”
“You need knives? What about your super-secret powers?”
“I don’t have powers. Get me a knife,” she ground out.
“What do you need the zip ties for?”
“Capturing them, obviously.”
“Americans. So soft-hearted.”
“We need their intel!” Scoffing, Underwood crawled into the kitchen. Daisy heard the Widows barking orders to each other in Russian, but she couldn’t understand a word of it. She could feel that the civilians were still huddled under tables, but the Widows were between the counter and the tables now. They had a chance to escape. Grabbing a glass from under the register, she hurled it across the restaurant blindly. Praying that they’d fall for the distraction even for a moment, Daisy vaulted back over the counter, striking with her foot and fist simultaneously, at two different Widows. Now that she was in the open, she could see they were all dressed in stupidly conspicuous black tactical gear, and Daisy learned very quickly that they could take punches. “Get out of here! Go for the door!” Thankfully, the civilians listened. Daisy managed to survive the fast pace exchange of blows with the two Widows she’d struck, but the other three were rapidly backing away, guns raised. She couldn’t let them get far enough to be able to shoot. One careful vibration of a floor tile and the farthest of the three tripped, managing to catch herself, but buying Daisy a precious couple of seconds. A brutal right hook aimed at her temple forced Daisy to duck, sweeping the woman’s feet out from under her as she dropped. As the Widow hit the ground, Daisy popped back up and slammed her foot into the woman’s head, knocking her unconscious. The others held their fire as their comrade picked herself off the floor, clearly unsure of how to kill her without shooting the woman Daisy was fighting. Grimacing, Daisy raised her fists to the second of her hand-to-hand opponents, trying to figure out how she’d get the other three before they could shoot her.
A slight whistling sound was all the warning she had before a steak knife’s handle was jutting out of the chest of a previously unscathed attacker. Gasping, the woman stumbled backwards, tripping through one of the restaurant’s windows and shattering the glass. She collapsed onto the sidewalk, and Daisy felt her heart stop. The other two immediately opened fire on Dottie, who was standing in the doorway to the kitchen with a triumphant smirk and a butcher’s cleaver. She tossed the knife to Daisy, who deftly snatched the blade out of the air and swung it at the Widow in front of her. She had a vague sense of Dottie sprinting across the room, knife in each hand, bounding over tables to get the other two. Daisy’s opponent dodged her swing, flipping backwards and kicking a chair at her. As Daisy leapt sideways, the Widow pulled a combat knife from her belt and charged. That was how Daisy remembered she wasn’t an expert in knife fighting.
She leapt back, staying out of the Widow’s range, and saw Dottie slash her borrowed kitchen knife across one of the others’ throats. Her waitress uniform was tattered and bloodied, but she seemed unhurt.
“Alive!”
“You’re no fun,” Underwood groaned. Daisy’s opponent apparently recognized her inexperience, continuing her assault with her knife. Another window shattered in the background, but she was too focused on this current opponent to pay it much mind, making sure to stay out of range and wear her down. A hurled salt shaker struck Daisy in the forehead, and she grumbled in pain as blood seeped into her eye. Thankfully, she didn’t need her eyes to see. Closing them both and relying on her vibrations, she slid across the ground, propelling herself forward with her powers and getting an armful of glass shards for her efforts. She succeeded in planting her foot in the Widow’s shin, and put vibrations behind her strike to shatter her shin. The woman collapsed, but didn’t show any pain at all. Daisy couldn’t help but be impressed, but still had to win this fight. She slashed at Daisy while they were block flat on their back, and Daisy rolled out of the way, leaping to her feet and kicking the knife out of the Widow’s hand. The woman cursed in Russian until Daisy kicked her in the head too- but more gently this time. Humming Dean Martin, she turned her attention to Underwood and the last Widow. By the time she wiped the blood from her eyes and opened them, Dottie seemed to have things well in hand. The last assassin was on the ground in seconds, moaning in pain. Underwood looked at Daisy with a catlike grin, wiping blood from the edge of her mouth.
“That was fun!”
Daisy sighed, surveying the destruction around her while she picked glass out of her arm. Thankfully, there were no dead civilians. She dragged the zip-tied widows into a heap, stuffing dishrags in each of their mouths.
“Try to go anywhere and I’ll add you to the pile.”
“Bah, you’re such a drama queen. I came to you, remember! I’m not going anywhere.”
-
Daniel had been having such a good morning. He and Daisy had both taken the day off work, they’d slept in, and any minute now she’d be back with pie. He was only halfway through getting dressed when he heard gunfire and screams from down the street. He was less surprised than he probably should have been, when did he ever get a calm day off. He immediately switched into his mission-mindset, shoving aside his worry for his wife. She could handle herself. The fact that guns were still going off meant whatever trouble she’d gotten herself into hadn’t ended yet. She was still alive. Grabbing his sidearm and cane, he tucked the former into a holster and hastily finished buttoning his shirt while rushing out the door. The elevator couldn’t move nearly fast enough. By the time he reached the bottom, the gunfire had stopped. He had faith in Daisy’s skills, but she’d been hurt before and was far from invulnerable. Cops and EMTs started to swarm the scene just before he arrived, and one officer tried to stop him from getting any closer to the diner. Daniel flashed his SHIELD badge, and the man quickly stepped aside. The diner’s windows were all shattered, bullet casings were scattered across the sidewalk, and terrified patrons were sobbing to the police. Thankfully, however, there didn’t seem to be any dead civilians.
The relief that flooded through him when he saw Daisy was overpowering. His good knee almost buckled underneath him, and he had to lean on his cane to stop from toppling over. His wife was standing in the diner, clearly visible through the remaining floor-to-ceiling windows. She was smattered with blood, but he could tell very little of it was hers, and she otherwise seemed to just have mild bruising. Three mildly injured women wearing tactical suits were zip-tied at her feet, another two were dead nearby, and she was bickering with someone else, a blonde whose back was turned to him. Daniel was incredibly grateful that aside from the assailants, no one seemed to have been killed. With that worry dealt with, he returned his attention to his wife. She looked beautiful, and incredibly powerful, and he was so in love with her. He didn’t know why he got so worried, this time or any time she went out on a mission. She always came home in one piece, even if she wasn’t completely intact. She was the best of the best, of course she’d gotten out of this alright. She’d never needed his or anyone else’s support to succeed at anything, and when she accepted it, it was never out of necessity. Daisy saw him through the glass, and her smile melted his heart just as effectively as it had back at Area 51. What had gotten into him? Why was he so sappy this morning? She rushed out the door to meet him, and he laughed as she jumped into his arms. Setting her down, he waved over one of the EMTs, but Daisy tried to brush them off. Sighing at her stubbornness, Daniel took some gauze and alcohol pads from the man and muttered his thanks before setting about gently cleaning Daisy’s wounds, dragging her down so they were both sitting on the hood of a parked car. She hissed in pain from the disinfectant, but allowed him to continue.
“Are you alright, sweetheart? What the hell happened?”
“I’m fine, minor scuffle is all. Routine stuff. Thank you though.” He kissed her, out of relief as much as desire, before quickly pulling away. Best not to make any of her wounds worse. He forced himself to turn his attention back to the task at hand, but kept their fingers laced together, dabbing at the scrapes and cuts on her face and arms with his free hand.
“Who’s the other woman? And the dead people?” The blonde turned around, flashing a painfully wide smile as she walked out of the diner and towards Daniel. She looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place her face until she spoke. Her over-the-top midwestern accent wasn’t easy to forget.
“Oh it’s you! I never learned your name, but you were very rude to me.” Daniel blinked in shock, and he could tell from Daisy’s laugh that he must have a bewildered expression on his face. What the actual fuck was Dottie Underwood doing here?
“ Underwood? D- Louise, what the- do you know who this woman is? We need to bring her in. She’s been SHIELD’s most wanted for over a decade. And you know my name, come on. Don’t play dumb with me.” He was reaching for his gun before he’d finished speaking, but Daisy’s hand stopped him.
“I know. She told me some stuff, and I remember the stories. I put the pieces together. We have a common enemy at the moment, the women who attacked us. Assassins, from HYDRA and the Red Room.” The Red Room? Leviathan’s training camp for little girl assassins? From what Peggy had told him, that place was creepy as hell. If how hard Dottie had been to fight was any indication, and the stories Daisy and May had told him about Natasha Romanoff were true, he really didn’t want to fight anyone who’d come out of that place. Before he could respond to that absolutely insane information, Dottie chimed in.
“Was it Donald?”
“Seriously? You know my name, come on.”
“What happened to Peg? Weren’t you two an item?” The Soviet asked.
“We broke up more than ten years ago, Underwood.”
“Oh well. You were cute together. Did you know I kissed her before you did, though?” He had known that, actually, but he refused to give Underwood even the slightest bit of satisfaction by continuing this conversation. Daisy raised a bloodied eyebrow at him, a mirthful smile playing at her lips, but he waved off the silent question. He wiped away the blood before it could drip into her eyes, then responded to Dottie’s prodding.
“What do you want?” He asked.
“Take me to see Peg, please, Mister Donald sir? I really need a girls night, we haven’t caught up in soooo long. I’ll tell her everything you people want to know.” Rolling his eyes, Daniel flashed a badge at one of the nearby cops, and the man walked over. Daniel demanded his handcuffs. He obliged, and Daisy quickly secured Underwood’s hands tight enough that even dislocating her thumb wouldn’t free her.
“So much for the day off,” she muttered under her breath. Daniel squeezed his wife’s shoulder, causing Dottie to blow a raspberry.
“Be disgusting later, lovebirds. Let’s go! I wanna see Peggy!”
Cursing, Daniel closed up the first aid kit and left the Widows in Daisy’s care, and went to go find a phone. This was going to be a very long day, and he never even got that pie. They should’ve stayed in bed.
-
Hours later, at Camp Lehigh, the four Widows were split into separate interrogation rooms. Daisy was handling one of the ones she captured, while Dugan, Jones, and Stoner tried to crack the other two. Daniel was left to try to get through to his old adversary alongside Peggy. They’d agreed to let her do most of the talking.
“Dottie,” she began.
“Hiya Peg, did you miss me?”
“Can’t say I did. What do you want?”
“Straight to business, huh? You don’t want to catch up with your old pal?” Underwood batted her eyelashes overdramatically, leading Daniel to roll his eyes.
“We aren’t ‘pals’, Dottie. You claim your life's on the line here, so act like it. Give us the intel.”
“What intel?”
“The intel you offered my agent.”
“She was yours? Peg, does your husband know? Does hers ?” She shot Daniel a faux-scandalized gaze, which he ignored. “Kinky. I thought capitalists didn’t like to share.”
“If that’s how you want to play this, then it’s no trouble at all you toss you back out into the wild, or throw you in a cell with Fennhoff. I’m sure you’ll just thrive in that environment.”
“I’ve been just fine so far. You need me more than I need you.”
“Then why did you come begging?”
“Because there’s a lot of them and only one of little old me.”
“So we’re your army?” Daniel cut in.
“Your wife asked the same thing. I’ll tell you what I told her: yes, absolutely.”
“Tell us where the Red Room is based and we’ll take them out,” Peggy demanded.
“A Red Army complex two hundred miles southeast of Murmansk. I know your old friend is somewhere in Siberia, but I’m not sure where.” No leads on Barnes, then.
“And how did you come across this location?”
“I tortured it out of an assassin they sent after me, of course,” Dottie informed them nonchalantly. Peggy gave Daniel a look that he understood immediately, and he replied with a small nod. He’d request some U2s to take a look at the location she gave. He was forever grateful that there was no real bad blood between him and Peggy, and any awkwardness had faded long ago. They may not have worked out as a couple, but they’d been excellent partners. The interrogation room door slammed open without warning, making Daniel jump, and his least favorite person stormed in.
“What the hell is going on here? Why wasn’t I called in? This is under my purview, not Sousa’s,” Wilfred Malick shouted.
“Who’s the angry guy?” Dottie cooed.
“I’m his boss.”
“And I’m yours, Malick,” Peggy reminded him, “If you two are just going to be distractions, then out, both of you.” Malick threw up his hands in surrender, and after a withering glare from Peggy, Daniel followed his so-called boss out of the room. Malick immediately grabbed his arm, painfully half-dragging Daniel into a side room. He gritted his teeth, but said nothing against the pain and awkwardness of the manhandling.
“Something you need, sir?”
“Sousa, do you care to explain why your wife was contacted by a known Soviet agent?”
“I wish I knew, sir.” Calling Malick that left an awful taste in his mouth, but they still kept up this charade for now. Fighting a war in the shadows was easier than an aboveboard one, and Malick had no desire to get arrested, or fired. At this point his position was really just in name only and he knew it, SHIELD kept an incredibly close eye on everything he did, but Daniel preferred to know what the scumbag was up to.
“How about why you went over my head, then? You took this to Carter, who’s known to have had ties to this agent in the past. That was a massive security risk.”
“She’s the only one who’s ever gotten Underwood to be even a little cooperative.”
“All the more reason someone else should be in there. And I want that report on the incident at the diner.”
“Incident, sir?”
“How Lou and the Communist took out a bunch of highly-trained assassins, without guns.”
“My understanding is it was through copious amounts of violence,” he deadpanned. In truth, he hadn’t asked, but he could imagine. He’d seen both Daisy and Dottie fight before, and he was sure that together they’d be a force to be reckoned with.
“Don’t get clever with me you little shit,” Malick snarled. Daniel blinked in surprise, the HYDRA operative was rarely this direct.
“That… seems uncalled for, boss.”
“Shut up, Sousa. I know you’re as tired of this as I am? All the conniving and pretending to not know? It’s exhausting.” Yes, he was. Daniel hated all this spy bullshit, but he really enjoyed pissing Malick off. So he kept his head on straight, and spoke calmly.
“Then I recommend you turn yourself in or walk into traffic, sir. Maybe both, in that order.” Malick chuckled darkly, and rubbed at his sinuses.
“God I wish my assassin had succeeded.”
“Yet another reason I’m eternally grateful for my wife.”
“Christ, you’re insufferable. I’ve always hated you, you know that? One day your friends won’t be able to keep you alive anymore and your own stupidity’s gonna get you killed. I doubt I’ll even have to lift a finger.”
“How are you faring without your friend around, by the way?” Daisy coming home from a jog covered in tiny shards of metal and wearing a dopey grin had been a shock, but learning she’d killed the Chronicom bastard who’d been pulling HYDRA’s strings was wonderful news. “I hear things haven’t been going so well for you since they vacuumed him off the street.”
“Well enough to have you, Johnson, and May killed. Maybe Carter and Thompson while I’m at it. That kid would’ve made a good agent for our side if he’d had some damn sense.”
“Didn’t your buddies just try the whole assassination thing? Seems to have backfired a bit. Now you’ve got three Widows plus Underwood in SHIELD custody, and I bet one of those tree wasn’t in the Red Room against their will.”
“If you thought you could win this, you would’ve gone public already. Your side is losing the war, Sousa. You always have been. Cut-”
“If you say ‘cut off one head and two more shall take its place’, sir , I will cut yours off. You don’t even believe in that shit anymore. Not since you learned what Hive did to your family.” Malick’s eye twitched, and Daniel knew he had him now.
“Empty threats from a weak man. You’re not a murderer. You just married one.” Weak, desperate attempts to unnerve Daniel. His wife was not a murderer, how dare he? Daisy was a spy, and a damn good one at that. She didn’t slaughter people mercilessly, that was HYDRA’s job.
“You’ve seen my war record. I’m not a murderer, just a soldier. And I’m very good at killing Nazis.”
“Good luck with that son. You’re going to need it.” Malick clapped a hand to Daniel’s shoulder, and left without another word. Daniel slumped against the nearest wall, allowing himself a sigh of relief. He couldn’t wait to put a bullet in that man’s skull.
-
Malick ducked into a payphone a few miles outside of Camp Lehigh, immediately dialing Zola’s secure number. He picked up on the first ring.
“Accelerate the plans. Get Fennhoff out and into Russia now. We can’t wait any longer, and the Red Room clearly can’t do this without him. Incompetent twats. That base will fall without him there to hold it. SHIELD’s planning an assault as we speak.”
“They said-”
“I know what they said, Zola. And I know it’s difficult. But get him out, and do it quietly. And how is that weapon coming along?”
“Without Luke, terribly. We’ve already lost seven scientists trying to make it work. The gravitonium is too unstable.”
“Figure it out, or I feed you to it myself. We need them dead . I want the Reds ready when they show up. Johnson, Sousa, May, Carter, and the fucking Howling Commandos. Dead, all of them. Fennhoff better work his fucking magic.”
“Y- yes sir.” Wilfred slammed the phone down, then pressed his forehead against the glass wall of the phone booth. He was halfway to a migraine already, and his day certainly wasn't going to get any better.
Notes:
I had fun writing this. Dottie's the best. Definition of a gremlin.
Comments and kudos are always appreciated!
Chapter 18
Notes:
Lots of notes this week, I apologize in advance for that
First of all, this chapter deals with the Red Room and mind control. I'm not going into detail on the Red Room's nastiness, this is tamer than Black Widow, just be warned
Thanks are due (as always) to my beta reader, GlaringRed, who helped this chapter run a lot smoother
Subscribers may have noticed that this fic is now part of a series! I'd always intended to fill in some gaps with side stories of various formats and styles, but I got an idea that led me to doing so far earlier than I expected. Between last week's chapter and this week's, I've posted a one-shot. If you haven't read it yet, go check it out!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
April 5, 1961
In the dead of night, seven cloaked Quinjets flew from a Norwegian SHIELD airfield towards the Red Room’s current home southeast of Murmansk. Peggy was eternally grateful to the future SHIELD agents for delivering Stark this technology, it was far preferable to a midnight paradrop while taking hostile AA fire. She’d done that one too many times. Dottie’s intelligence had been verified, along with information from the widows she and Daisy had captured. The assassin had been left in SHIELD custody while the base was being assaulted, with her status to be figured out upon completion of the mission. Peggy had no illusions about Dottie’s plans, and fully expected to learn she’d escaped from prison while she was away.
In complete silence, the jets spread out unnoticed to surround the base. They simultaneously opened fire, methodically destroying gun emplacements and mowing down soldiers before settling down in the snow. Five disgorged their passengers, while the other two remained closed, and all seven kept engines hot. Peggy stayed in one of the closed Quinjets, which had been converted into a command center, while the other had been stripped to its bones to haul back cargo and prisoners. If everything went according to plan, they’d have an incredible amount of files and personnel to drag back to the States with them, in all seven quinjets.
The agents had been split into two teams, each with a ground and backend commander. Peggy was supervising the grabbing of ‘all the shit we can carry and then some’, as Daisy had so eloquently put it. Daniel had been assigned the on-the-ground command of those teams, while May and Daisy were their counterparts for the first wave. Most of the agents on the ground had been armed with ICERs rather than live guns, another innovation that she had the future to thank for. Peggy would’ve preferred to be on the ground herself, but apparently being Deputy Director meant she was ‘too important to risk’ now. She thought that was bullshite, but Phillips had refused to budge. She wouldn’t have been allowed to run individual ops at all if SHIELD hadn’t been so strapped for agents whose loyalty was reliable. She didn’t mind at all, though, and she could tell May felt the same. Each woman was hunched over a bunch of maps and radios, coordinating their team’s activities and ensuring no toes were stepped on or pockets of resistance left. This place was a cesspool, the worst of the worst of humanity. Peggy had never stopped being haunted by what she saw in Leviathan’s Byelorussian base. If this raid could stomp out a division of HYDRA and prevent any more little girls from being tormented and brainwashed, she was all in. Unfortunately the only current hiccup was that Daisy was doing her job too well.
“Central wing is clear. Some of the girls are friendlies and have assisted us in taking out the guards. Watch your fire. Recovery teams can go. All strike teams, move to the northeastern wing,” her voice announced through May’s radio, immediately followed by a chorus of acknowledgements. She was slowly growing fonder of the SHIELD agent from the future. Daisy was skilled, there was no denying that. She was the best, and she knew it, which led to no end of problems for Peggy. Trying to keep control over SHIELD was difficult when Johnson was so determined to do what she thought was making it better. Most of the time, she and her mother were right. Their suggestions were for the best, and informed by foresight that no normal person could possess. That didn’t make their reminders of Peggy’s missteps and failures hurt any less, however.
If nothing else, she was sympathetic towards Daisy’s current situation. They were roughly the same age, but Johnson was going through now what Peggy had fifteen years ago. Half of SHIELD’s loyal agents would kill or die for her in a heartbeat, yes, but the other half saw her only as an upjumped incompetent who’d slept her way to the top. Most who saw her fight changed their tune real quick, but short of beating up half the agency, that was unlikely to go away anytime soon. The least Peggy could do was give her the opportunity to prove herself that too many others would deny.
Another few grunts and gunshots sounded from over the radio, before Daisy reported the northeastern wing was clear, more of the captive Widows had defected, and Daniel’s agents were free to complete their sweep. Peggy couldn’t help but be surprised, even though she absolutely should’ve seen this coming.
“Your daughter’s a royal pain in my arse, you know that?” She joked to May.
“I know. I couldn't be prouder.”
“She’s doing a better job than I expected, after that debacle a few years back.”
“You knew what to expect. She only ever delivers the best.”
“It took years for her to start following my orders. That’s not ‘the best’ material.”
“She was even worse when she was younger. But she’s always been a good leader. A natural, really. And she’s matured with time.”
“As commanders go, we couldn’t have asked for better. If you were in the field, though…”
“I’m too old for that. I’ll stick to training and back-end. Let you kids have the fun.”
“We really could use you, I’ve never seen anyone fight like you can,” Peggy said. It wasn’t empty flattery either, May was an unparalleled fighter.
“I taught Daisy everything I know.”
“I can tell. Her teams are moving faster than I planned for.”
“Sousa’s cleanup crews can handle it. The faster we’re out of here the better.” Apparently, she’d spoken too soon.
“It’s Fennhoff! Ivchenko, whatever. He’s here!” Daniel’s frantic voice came from the radio, followed quickly by static. And Peggy shared a horrified look with the older agent. How the hell was that possible?
“Malick must’ve gotten him out. I’ve got this.” May quickly grabbed a real gun, not an ICERs, from the Quinjet’s weapon rack, and Peggy knew she was serious. She rarely needed anything but her hands to win a fight.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I can sense his distress and follow it.”
“May? Shoot first, don’t let him talk.”
“I’ve read your files. I know what to do.”
-
Daniel followed behind Daisy’s tac teams as they swept through the building, sidearm in hand. His role was simple: cleanup. He barked orders to the less-deadly agents trailing behind him, and they efficiently boxed up files, took ICEd Widows and scientists into custody, and set charges. If this base contained any useful information on HYDRA, they’d have it. The Widows would be offered a choice between cooperation and a SHIELD prison, and some of them were expected to defect after suffering for so long at the hands of the Red Room. Some of them had already defected, opening the throats of guards and stealing guns from their corpses even as SHIELD teams crashed through doors. He was making his way down an already-cleared hallway, alone, when he heard the sounds of a scuffle coming from a room that by all rights should’ve already been cleared. Raising his weapon, Daniel pushed the door open with his cane, and slipped inside what turned out to be a training room, without padded floors, but with a large open space and racks of weapons. As he watched, Daisy quickly dispatched two Widows with her bare hands and powers, and he saw her grimace as they forced her to kill them rather than be captured. Before he could speak, the shadows near the back of the room rippled, and a man stepped out. He was older than Daniel remembered, but there was no mistaking the balding man in the tweed suit, glistening ring on his finger. He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten out of prison, but he didn’t need to to know that everything had just gone sideways very quickly.
“It’s Fennhoff! Ivchenko, whatever. He’s here!” Daniel shouted into his radio. Daisy turned towards the sound of his voice, smiling, then back towards the shadows when she processed what he said. Watching Daisy confront this man was too much, it wasn’t going to end well. Even as he watched, rushing towards them, he knew it was too late. Fennhoff touched a hand to the ring on his finger, and as Daisy prepared to break his nose, he spoke to her calmly and quietly.
“Freeze. Do not move.” His wife instantly stopped moving, fist drawn back, torso twisted at an awkward angle, footwork mid-way through a perfect punch. Her face was still contorted with rage, and her eyes didn’t even twitch. Daniel screamed with rage, moving forward as quickly as he could. He cocked his gun, raising it at Fennhoff. Daisy being subjected to mind control was the worst possible thing that could have happened to her.
“If she’s dead, you’ll spend the rest of your very short life in agony. Undo it. Now.”
“Don’t worry, Agent Sousa. She will be fine. My methods have… refined, since last we met. I am afraid I still hold a grudge for you striking me with a pistol, but your wife is unharmed. She is only holding herself in place. Now. Focus. Take me back, to the happiest memory you have. Focus, Agent Sousa, on the good times.”
As soon as Fennhoff opened his mouth, he realized his mistake. He tried to fight it, he did, but the calm that washed over him was too powerful to resist. Daniel’s world swam and shifted, and the last thing he saw was Daisy’s terrified, frozen expression before he was pulled into memory. One second he was standing in the Red Army base, and the next he was standing at the altar on his wedding day. Somehow, this transition made perfect sense to his addled mind. Something at the back of his head was screaming that this was wrong, it was fake, but that voice was drowned out by the sight of Daisy in a beautiful dress, arm in arm with May, walking slowly down the aisle towards him. Exactly as he remembered it. She was practically glowing, honey-gold skin shining in the warm sunlight, wavy hair cascading over her shoulders, and eyes gleaming with her usual mischief. She smiled, and the last of his resistance fell away. Daisy reached the altar, taking her place across from Daniel and next to the priest. May moved to her seat.
“What do you see?” Daniel turned his head, and found Fennhoff sitting in the front row next to his parents, smiling like a kindly old man, fidgeting rhythmically with the ring on his finger. Daniel heard himself reply to the question, despite having no memory of intending to do so.
“My wedding day.” It was early 1959, a gorgeous late spring day at an outdoor venue in New York state. Part of Daniel knew this was almost two years prior, and part of him still thought this was still unfolding. It was an odd sensation.
“Ah, a family man.” Yeah, that was an accurate description. The attendees were mostly family, both his and Daisy’s, in the form of May. Their friends were there too, a who’s-who of top brass. Daniel doubted there’d ever been a wedding with so many people who were this deadly in one room. There were people like Jack and Rick, but also Howling Commandos, Peggy, Friedman, and Rose. Loyal SHIELD agents who could kick almost anyone’s ass, now an emotional wreck to the last man and woman as Daisy reached the altar.
“What could make this memory truly perfect, Agent Sousa?”
“It- it already is.”
“Focus. What is the one thing you need to do to protect those you love? To make the world a better place?” Wilfred Malick shimmered into existence at the back of the crowd, smiling cruelly. He waved at Daniel, and his blood boiled over.
“I need to get rid of Malick. He’s the key to everything. Without HYDRA, they’d be safe.”
“Yes, your family would be safe. Your sister, brothers, parents. Your wife.” His attention was drawn to each person as Fennhoff said their names. Camilla, Will, Ben, and his parents and grandmother all beaming at him. His nieces and nephews, absolutely adorable in tiny tuxes and dresses. Daisy, standing in front of him, holding his hands. “You want that more than anything, don’t you? A peaceful life with those you love.”
“Yes. Yes I do.”
“Focus on all you could have if Malick was dead. A normal life, out in the open. A promotion into his vacated role. Peace, for yourself and your country. Children you were always too afraid to have. Focus on that, Agent Sousa.” At the back of the room, Malick pulled a gun from his waistband and aimed it at a young boy, no more than three or four, who hadn’t been there a minute ago. Somehow, even from a distance, Daniel could tell the boy had his hair and Daisy’s warm eyes. He’d pictured something like this before, in his sappiest moments, but never dreamed it could be reality. The kid beamed at him, completely oblivious to Malick’s gun.
“Dad!” It was a generic little kid’s voice. The kid wasn’t real, part of him remembered this. This was wrong. He didn’t have a son. They had agreed years ago not to have children. Yet still, Daniel’s heart leapt out of his chest. Having kids with his and Daisy’s career choice hadn’t even been in the cards. Was that something he even wanted? Was it possible? Could he really have that life just by killing the man threatening his son? His son. He had to protect the boy. Suddenly, there was a gun in his hand, and Daniel was raising it toward the man who’d betrayed him.
“Pull the trigger, Agent Sousa. Kill Wilfred Malick. Give yourself the life you always wanted.” Underneath the words, Daniel heard another message, but his mind glazed over it. “Pull the trigger, Agent Sousa. Kill your wife.” Which was real and which was in his head, he couldn’t say. Without even realizing he’d done it, Daniel’s finger was on the trigger of his gun, the barrel leveled at Malick’s smirking face. But his hand was shaking. He couldn’t pull the trigger. If he fired, his and Daisy’s child would be safe… but they didn’t have a kid, right? Did they?”
“I-”
“Pull the trigger, Daniel. Focus on what you need to do to have everything you want.” Fennhoff’s voice was more forceful now, the words drilling into his mind, bouncing around his skull. He couldn’t fathom why, but Daisy’s eyes flashed before him, just for a moment, superimposed over Malick’s face. Something wasn’t quite right here.
“No,” he stated. Fennhoff snarled, and the wedding scene disappeared. For a moment, everything was black, then a different memory materialized.
“What do you see now, Agent Sousa? What event brings you even more peace and love for your family than your wedding?” He was sitting in his living room, now, just him and Daisy. They were sitting on their couch hand in hand, as they had at the altar, the rings they’d exchanged at the public ceremony on the table beside them. He knew this memory was only a few hours later than the last, a glimpse of that night, yet it still felt as though it was playing out before him.
“My- my second wedding.” He knew he shouldn’t have said it, this was supposed to be a secret. No one could know.
“Second wedding? You have married before?” Fennhoff was standing in the shadows off to his side, asking his question in that too-calm demeanor of his. Daniel didn’t want to elaborate. He was betraying someone by saying this, but he couldn’t stop himself. He wasn’t sure who he was betraying or how.
“No. Only once. My real wedding.”
“Focus, Agent Sousa. What makes this one real? Was the first fake?”
“No, but it wasn’t honest.” Daniel struggled to reveal as little detail as possible, but the scene played out regardless of what he said. This wedding had no priest, no guests, and no lies. Rings were exchanged, vows were read, but there was no need for the Catholic traditions neither of them believed in, or the names that they hated to have to use.
“Then what was different? What do you see? Focus.” He saw Daisy, smiling more than she ever had, wearing a leather jacket and jeans. Clothes that would’ve gotten her arrested for cross-dressing in public, even though they were perfectly feminine for her time. He thought she looked perfect. Daniel’s tux was replaced with slacks and a blue button-down, Daisy’s favorite of his shirts.
“We were sitting. My leg hurt after a long day. No need to stand when you don’t have a crowd to perform for. And we dressed how we wanted to.”
“And?” They exchanged rings for a second time, and kissed more passionately than they had in public. They whispered I love yous, and called each other by the names they’d agreed to use in private, when they could be honest about who they were.
“We hyphenated our last names. I took hers and she took mine. Not like in public. In public, she just took mine. It wasn’t right, not equal enough, but it’s the only option now.” Daniel knew that elaborating, revealing the secret of time travel, would be a bridge too far. He managed to dance around it, and thankfully Fennhoff didn’t pry. Regardless, the old man looked intrigued, leaning forward from the shadows.
“Daniel and Louise Sousa-Wen? That is the big difference, your names? It seems a trivial matter, no?” Fennhoff asked skeptically. Names were never a trivial matter. He tried to stay quiet, but pain in his skull built until he heard himself speak against his will. Some part of his mind whispered that he should have brought earplugs, like last time.
“Daniel and Daisy Johnson-Sousa,” he bit out through ground teeth. This pleased Fennhoff, and the man’s grin grew. It made Daniel’s skin crawl. This was supposed to be a private moment, he was intruding on it.
“Focus. What would you do for your wife? To keep… Daisy Johnson alive?”
“Anything.” That, Daniel could say without hesitation. He’d do anything for the beautiful woman in his arms.
“Then kill the man who threatens her life. Kill Wilfred Malick.” Again, that other voice- “ Kill Daisy Johnson .” Malick appeared behind Daisy, raising a gun against her this time, rather than their imaginary child. Daniel found a weapon in his own hand, and raised it without hesitation. But just as he was about to fire. He found he couldn’t. He wanted to shoot Malick more than anything, but he couldn’t make himself do it. The memory of Daisy said and did nothing, just looking at him with adoration, back turned to Malick. That wasn’t right. She’d have snapped his neck by now. His wife could defend herself. He’d always fight for her, but most of the time, he didn’t have to. What she really needed from him was support, someone to pick her up when she fell and to cover her six. With Malick aiming a gun at her head, the asshole wouldn’t last five seconds. Daniel lowered the weapon and shook his head.
“No,” he said, “I can’t do this. It’s not right. Something’s off.” Fennhoff opened his mouth, but a shot pierced the mirage before he could speak. His weapon had been aimed not at Wilfred Malick, but at Daisy, frozen in place. Daniel looked with horror at the gun in his hands, but it was still cool. Just to be safe, he ejected the magazine and popped out the bullet in the chamber. As soon as he did, the enormity of what had just happened overwhelmed his military discipline, and his hands started to shake more than Daisy’s ever did, his leg swaying under him. As the gun fell from limp fingers, Daniel looked back up to see the world dissolving around him. Fennhoff and Daisy were still there, but the Russian had a rapidly-growing red patch on his chest. Daisy was still looking at Daniel, but with pleading eyes rather than adoring ones, still frozen in her awkward halfway-complete-punching-stance. As Fennhoff collapsed, wheezing, the last wisps of the illusion finally faded away.
Daniel was standing in a large training room on a Soviet base, with Fennhoff dying on the floor to his right, and Daisy standing frozen just feet in front of him. He blinked again, and realized May was standing just off to his left, a smoking pistol in her hand, aimed at Fennhoff’s chest. She fired twice more for good measure, and the corpse twitched with each bullet. He and his wife sucked in a rattling breath at the same time, and immediately leapt into each other’s arms, the hypnosis gone. He could feel May’s heartbreak and worry, but ignored the emotions pulsing off the older woman. He was solely focused on Daisy, shaking like a leaf. Her muscles must have been tense from freezing at such an awkward angle, the equivalent of holding a plank for too long. As if that wasn’t enough, she’d been trapped in her own body, forced to watch as her husband pointed a weapon at her. Daniel couldn’t imagine what she’d just gone through.
“I’m sorry, my love. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t- I couldn’t- I’m sorry. I pulled a gun on you.”
“But you didn’t shoot,” May cut in. “You held that monster off long enough for me to kill him.” Daisy nodded against his chest, even though he couldn’t fathom why she wasn’t trying to murder him. She hated mind control more than anything. Her greatest fear was becoming what she’d been under Hive, and Daniel had been just as helpless as she was to get them both out of Fennhoff’s weird-ass mind prison. At least Daisy had just been made to stop moving, he was dealing with an illusion that he should’ve seen through. He didn’t hold her tighter, not wanting to make her feel trapped. May stepped forward, wrapping an arm around each of them. Daniel stiffened instinctively, May hadn’t ever been particularly affectionate towards him, even though he knew she approved, but with her empathic powers he wasn’t surprised. He and Daisy both needed the hug. His wife leaned into them both, and he tentatively kissed the crown of her head. Daisy sighed into his chest, and he was flooded with relief.
“Are you okay?” She nodded, and her reply came in a voice that was smaller than he’d ever heard from her.
“I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me. Neither did you.”
“I don’t need to have your mom’s powers to know you’re lying, Dais.” May snorted, and released them both, but gently rubbed her daughter’s back, eyes still darting around the room. She put another bullet in Fennhoff’s skull, and Daisy flinched.
“Okay, I’m not fine. But I will be. Thank you.”
“Of course.”
“What did- what did you see? Our wedding, right?”
“Yeah. He made me think Malick was there, and I was pointing the gun at him. But something didn’t feel right.”
“I would’ve taken the shot,” May grumbled.
“I almost did.”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” Daisy whispered, and he couldn’t help but chuckle.
“I could never hurt you,” Daniel promised.
“If you did, I’d kill you myself,” his mother-in-law warned. He felt Daisy smirk into his chest, and Daniel was grateful to May for lightening her mood, even if she wasn’t joking.
“I believe it.” He kissed Daisy’s hair again, and shifted how they were standing, looping an arm under hers and helping her stand. “Let’s get out of here, Dais. Peggy’s team can handle it from here.” She nodded, but May tutted at him and removed Daniel’s arm, placing Daisy’s over her own shoulders. Daniel was offended for a moment, but May’s expression was all business.
“Don’t you dare fuck up that leg trying to help when I’m perfectly capable. My daughter needs you at your best, not hurting yourself in some stupid chivalric gesture.” Daisy chuckled, kissing Daniel’s cheek. Neither of them had any rebuttal to that, so he stepped away. Together, the family made their way to the closest SHIELD team, and gratefully returned behind friendly lines. A tac team escorted them to a Quinjet, and within minutes they were heading home.
April 6, 1961
Peggy was entirely unsurprised to find Dottie missing from her cell when she returned to the states. In truth, it was almost entertaining. The cat-and-mouse game would continue. Dottie was… mostly harmless, as former Russian assassins went. Peggy wished she could say the same about the rest of the Widows SHIELD had taken into custody. There were nearly fifty of them, some as young as six, all of them hostile, scared, and traumatized. The adult Widows were being detained and interrogated, some even wanted to defect, but she still had no idea what to do about a bunch of slightly-brainwashed Russian agents. It was still unclear, but it seemed that ten or so of the older Widows had been brainwashed using a variety of methods, and Peggy strongly suspected that most or all of that group would also want to defect once they’d been freed. The youngest widows seemed to have the worst of it though, most had been used as guinea pigs for the Red Room’s mind control techniques. The files that they’d gone through so far indicated the children had all been taken, either from the streets, orphanages, or paid-off families. They had no homes to return to. It was up to SHIELD now to find them a place now. Phillips had deemed rehabilitation of captured Widows as lower priority, however, despite Daisy’s very loud objections. After what she and Daniel had been through, it was no wonder they were both so sympathetic towards the Red Room’s victims.
Peggy wasn’t sure if she could disagree with the Sousas, but there were far too many files to sort through. Once they’d been translated, SHIELD could figure out how to treat the Widows and restore their autonomy. The amount of trusted agents who could read Russian was far smaller than she’d expected, and so Peggy had volunteered to join in the effort herself. Within a few hours, she’d had much to report to her superior on HYDRA’s operations, but he was fixated only on one thing.
“Fennhoff was there?”
“Yes sir. It seems Zola had him broken out of prison a few weeks ago, used his connections to keep it quiet, and replaced him with a body double. They were cellmates in The Rat. A foolish oversight on our part, missing that connection. Some of these files seem to show that Fennhoff refined his brainwashing techniques while imprisoned, then gave Zola the information by writing it down.”
“What do we know about them?”
“About Fennhoff and Zola, sir?”
“No, about their brainwashing techniques.”
“This is very preliminary, but there’s three methods. Fennhoff’s hypnosis, which only he could ever get right. A sort of electroshock applied to the brain that wipes memories and makes the victim hyper-susceptible to suggestion, and something called the Faustus Method that’s longer-term and preserves personality, used on several Widows. There’s references to Bucky being subjected to the electroshock method, and some of the Widows are used as guinea pigs for all three. We’ve even been able to get ahold of schematics for the chair they tortured him with, and for his arm. It’s… horrible, sir. He’s been tortured for twenty years.”
“I want people on this, Carter. Stark should take point. We need to learn everything the Red Room knew.”
“I agree wholeheartedly. This could be the key to freeing Bucky and the Widows. If we learn what they did, we can learn how to undo it.”
“Forget about Barnes. He’s one man! This could give us an army.” Peggy blinked in shock. What was he saying, that SHIELD should use this information proactively? What was the point of an army if it wasn’t to protect the one man?
“Sir, I really must-”
“We’ve wasted so much energy trying to get HYDRA bastards to talk, Carter. Wondering who we can trust and who we can’t. Figure out how to break the brainwashing, sure. But we need to know how to implement this ‘Faustus Method’ ourselves. We are at war. This could save lives.”
“I will not sign off on a new Red Room with a fresh coat of paint.”
“No. No, that’s not what I’m saying. The chair is evil. The Faustus Method is the most effective interrogation technique imaginable. We could turn captured HYDRA agents into spies for SHIELD, people like Zola could have their brain power put to good use for once. There’s never been a weapon made that wasn’t used, Peggy. We can’t let HYDRA have a leg up here. So we will study these files, and we will put this information to use. If it saves a single life, I won’t be sorry we did it. Set up the translation teams and the cleared neuroscientists. That's an order.” There was a sort of ruthless logic to it. No one would be hurt, except for people who were already HYDRA agents. And studying this was the only way to free Bucky. Steve would do anything to save his best friend’s life, she owed Bucky the same courtesy. So Peggy raised her chin, looked her boss in the eye, and made her decision.
“Yes sir.”
The Director set his jaw and went off to survey the rest of the captured intelligence and machinery. As Peggy left to do as he said, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was making a terrible mistake.
Notes:
Hehehehe, I did say I'd be depicting their wedding this chapter. I just didn't say how.
Thoughts? Comments? Kudos? All are appreciated! Thank you all for reading!
Just as a brief guide, I’ve lost track of how old everyone is atp more than a few times, so here’s a quick guide for their ages in the last scene of this chapter, just in case you all are as confused as me:
Daisy: 36, allegedly born 7/2/1924
May: 61, allegedly born 1900
Daniel: 42, born 2/24/1919 (according to me at least, I picked a random date in canon’s known range)
Peggy: 39, born 4/9/1921
Dugan: 48, born 4/11/1912
Gabe Jones: 42, born 8/14/1918
Jim Morita: 41, born 10/20/1919
Howard Stark: 43, born 8/15/1917
Chester Phillips: 84, born 12/3/1876 according to canon. However, since I didn’t realize this until literally just now and I’m too lazy to rewrite all the stuff I’ve already got planned for him, I’m just gonna say he’s 79, born in 1881. I need him around for a while longer, can’t have the poor bastard dying of old age before the plot’s through with him.
Thompson doesn’t have a canon birth year so I’m making him Daniel’s age.
Zola also doesn’t have a canon birth year, so I’m making him May’s age
Friedman: 43/4, born 1917
Reinhardt/Whitehall: 56, born 10/9/1904I had a list of ages for Daniel’s siblings + nieces + nephews but I lost it like a month ago. Still got the family tree though! For now all that matters is the kids are all below the age of 13, all adorable, and all beloved by both Daniel and Daisy. Daniel’s siblings are doing fine, Daisy and Camila are great friends, and his parents and grandma are still alive. They’ll show up again properly sooner or later, and probably get a side story at some point.
Chapter 19
Notes:
We're coming up on 100k words, which is... completely insane. If you've stuck around this long, thank you so, so much. Comments and kudos always make my day, but reading at all is appreciated. This has definitely been a labor of love, and not an easy one. If I had the chance now I'd definitely rewrite the first few chapters lmao.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
May 29, 1962
Peggy knew it was going to be a long day whenever Johnson and May requested a meeting. She liked both women, and considered them friends, but they had both mastered the art of being a pain in her arse. Today’s encounter was no different from the norm.
“I want to create a new division within Operations. An elite force to handle the most difficult ops, a scalpel instead of a shotgun.” Over the next five minutes, Daisy laid out her plans and proposals for her new department, which she wanted to call STRIKE. Her argument was eloquent and clearly well-prepared, with her mother offering support, either with stoic silence or the occasional helpful comment. She was intrigued, but not quite convinced. When Johnson finally ran out of air, Peggy started asking questions.
“You said this team existed in your time?”
“I refounded it after SHIELD fell, handled the training for a select group of our agents,” May explained. That was a good sign, at least. It was May’s old team, not Johnson trying to grasp at straws to put her life back together.
“And before that?”
“It was mostly HYDRA, except for Captain Rogers and a couple other Avengers- those are superheroes, they saved the world a few times. Long story. Not sure how long HYDRA had been running the show, but that won’t happen now for obvious reasons.”
“You already run operations for Hercules. Why bother with proposing something like this?”
“You and Phillips wanted me to make myself useful aside from just HYDRA. I have been. This gives us more explanation for what I do all day, and lets you move your trusted field agents into one, easily-explainable division,” she explained.
“With you in charge.”
“I’m already in charge, this way you and Flynn will be in charge of me.”
“As opposed to me and Daniel? You can’t be happy about that.”
“She’s not. It was my idea. A compromise for the more politically-minded top brass.” Peggy had to hand it to May, it was smart. There were certainly those who thought the fight against HYDRA was too insular, and too focused on security at the expense of transparency.
“That does make the whole HR issue simpler. I don’t have a very fond recollection of Flynn chewing me out for dating within SHIELD. It’s appealing to move you out from Hercules on paper, although I know you were definitely the one actually in charge.”
“Yeah… sorry about that. Didn’t know I’d be marrying him when I signed up for this.” Daisy may have grinned sheepishly, but Peggy could tell she wasn’t sorry in the slightest. May scoffed in reply.
“You never signed up, we kidnapped you.” That sounded like a story Peggy needed to hear, but this wasn’t the time.
“It was obvious to the rest of us sooner than it was to you two. If I thought it would be a real problem I’d have done something about it, you’re adults, and you work together better than ever. But I understand the amount of shite people give you for it.”
“I’m used to it.” If nothing else, at least Daisy was a mature adult.
“Alright. Who’ve you got?” Daisy dropped a stack of files onto her desk, and Peggy started flipping through them.
“Friedman and the seven agents under his command, plus a few other promising candidates.”
“I’ll whip them all into shape,” May smirked. Peggy had no doubt this team would be a unified fighting force after mere days of training with May, as unorthodox as it was.
“A former Widow and a handful of young operations specialists are not what I’d call ‘promising candidates’. Take Jim Morita too.” If she had to pick a former Widow, at least it had been Kanoffsky. She was only 19 when the Red Room had been dismantled, and she’d been the first Widow to defect to SHIELD. Peggy’s understanding was that she was incredibly skilled, and worked well with Friedman, who had taken her under his wing for some reason or another. The other half-dozen operations agents were rather boilerplate, all things considered. Uniformly rather young, highly skilled, and already vetted for Hercules by May’s empathic powers. If only Rose was qualified for that level of field work, she’d be the perfect choice to keep an eye on Johnson’s antics.
Daisy nodded, agreeing to Peggy’s recommendation without complaint. A rarity when she was involved.
“Gladly. Always liked him.”
“He spoke highly of you as well. Agent May? Any considerations you haven’t yet seen fit to mention?”
“Just that the PR of our most elite operations team being HYDRA-free is going to look good when we finally go public. The President does know, right?”
“Yes, the Director has kept the President, and only the President, up to date since ‘57. And you’re right, it’s a good look to have. As long as you make sure they’re all loyal?” May nodded her confirmation.
“Kanoffsky, Gallagher, Fernandez, Takashima, Richards, Harrison, and Mancini are all clear. Didn’t feel anything unusual from them.”
“Heartbeats were all normal too,” Daisy confirmed. That skill had never stopped being freakish. Peggy carefully kept her own heartbeat under control before she could sense her discomfort, but knew there was no fooling May. Damn them both.
“Alright then. I’ll sign off on this. You’ll get your own logo and everything. The Playground should have the spaces you need for home base, since everyone’s cleared it’ll be fine. Since STRIKE will be fairly classified as it is, most agents not knowing where you train and regroup is fine by me. And Johnson? No slip-ups this time. None of these agents are authorized to know who you are.” Daisy just grinned lopsidedly, obviously thrilled about getting her new division its own logo.
“Not sure what you mean, Deputy Director. I’m just a normal SHIELD agent. Nothing untoward or classified to speak of.” May nodded her agreement with faux solemnity that was betrayed by the mirth around her eyes, clearly infected by her daughter’s playfulness. Chuckling, Peggy waved them both out of her office, and got back to work.
June 4, 1962
Peggy knocked on the door to Director Phillips’ office, and he called for her to enter. He’d asked to meet with her, but at the moment she had no idea what this was about. She never could have predicted what her boss would say.
“I want Stark to start studying how to implement the Red Room’s mind control, not just how to break it.”
“Sir? You can’t seriously be suggesting this!”
Phillips gestured expansively at the translated documents they’d stolen from the Red Room scattered haphazardly across his desk.
“You’ve read the same files as me, Carter. This is real, and it’s promising. The Red Room used it on their most troublesome Widows, those whose loyalty was less than assured. It worked for them. It might be the only contingency we have.”
“It’s terrifying is what it is.” When did stripping away people’s minds become something SHIELD saw as a valid contingency?
“And what are we supposed to do if Johnson and May go rogue?”
“We can’t stop them if they do, we can’t hold them in place long enough for this to work.” Both women were terrifyingly powerful, and terrifyingly skilled. Peggy knew that if Johnson wanted, she could collapse Camp Lehigh with a thought, or tear down cities. Some sort of contingency wasn’t a bad idea, and she was still annoyed that they’d both refused the Index, but this?
“Then we’ll use the Chair,” Phillips declared. Peggy felt her face blanch with horror. She’d seen the schematics for the device they’d put her friend through.
“That’s torture!”
“It’s damn effective. Turned one of the best men I knew into goddamn Pinnochio, if the intel’s at all correct.”
“That’s precisely my problem. I will not turn them into more Winter Soldiers.”
“In six years, I’ve never seen Johnson do anything she didn’t want to. She lives by her own code, and never follows an order she disagrees with. As far as we know, her powers are unlimited and incredibly destructive. You just handed her all our most elite troops.”
“She inspires loyalty in everyone who serves under her, or even with her. Roberts, Dugan, obviously Daniel. Glowing reviews all around.”
“Exactly. That’s exactly my point. How long until she decides everyone should be following her orders? Sousa’s a damn good agent, we wouldn’t have any idea HYDRA was back without him, but he’s completely useless where his wife is concerned. He’s not exactly a reliable source for knowledge of her intentions. I know you like her, but you don’t trust her. That’s why you made sure Morita was there to keep an eye on her, right?” Peggy pursed her lips. He had a point.
“This isn’t going to solve that problem. I haven’t trusted anyone since I learned about HYDRA being back.”
“I’m glad you recognize that it’s a problem at least. One ICER round and an hour in the chair, and we’d keep her skills without ever worrying about her motives again. We’re soldiers, Carter. This is war. We have to plan for every eventuality, including betrayal, especially when it’s likely. And all that’s ignoring how useful this is for fighting HYDRA.”
“I don’t like this. Not at all.”
“You don’t have to like it to follow my orders, Carter. I didn’t ask you here for your approval.”
“No. I suppose not. And you won’t be getting it.”
“That doesn’t matter. Not to me and not to you. Can you do what you’re told, or do I have to find someone else for your job?”
“No sir. I remember how to obey orders. I just remember a time when you didn’t give heartless ones is all.” The colonel’s eyes narrowed, and Peggy knew she’d made a mistake.
“And I remember when you were the voice of reason keeping Rogers’ bleeding heart in check. Guess he rubbed off on you in more ways than one. Dismissed, Carter.” Blinking back tears of shock and anger, Peggy gave a crisp, mocking salute and stormed out of his office. She’d worked with this man for twenty years, and he still thought to insult her like that? For all he’d accomplished, she forgot sometimes that Chester Phillips was still a vindictive old man. She’d do better when she was director, but if she wanted a chance at the job, she’d need to fall in line now. If she stayed on his good side, maybe she could undo the damage he’d wrought in his twilight years once she was in charge.
June 20, 1962
Daisy and her mother had approached Yossi before volunteering him and his team for their brand-new proposed division, and he’d eagerly accepted their proposal. Although he saw all three members of the odd little family in charge of the war on HYDRA often, he hadn’t had the chance to actually fight with any of them since Kuwait. It was an honor he’d truly missed. Watching Daisy and May now, sparring with the new recruits in the Playground, there wasn’t a shred of doubt in his mind that she was the right person to lead SHIELD’s most elite unit. He knew some of SHIELD’s old guard mistrusted the time-travellers, but they’d never given him any reason to doubt their motives or their skills.
The new team had quickly established a base of operations on the Playground, marking their HQ as ‘Classified’ on SHIELD’s papers. Black tactical combat uniforms were already being produced, with SHIELD’s eagle surrounded by golden stars as their logo. The same emblem now adorned the wall of their training room, which Daisy and May had quickly and efficiently set up.
Even now, Daisy was absolutely trouncing one of his best men, while her mother smirked in approval from the sidelines. Yossi had come to recognize when the Enhanced woman was using her powers to put extra strength behind her punches, sense her opponents’ movements without using her eyes, subtly deflect blows that would have caused damage, or unsteadied the footing of a firmly planted enemy. To most, she appeared to simply be extraordinarily fast, strong, and lucky. It was incredible to watch. Nowak was methodically slammed to the floor, quickly tapping out. Yossi’s new CO stood, nodded to her defeated opponent, and began lecturing the eager crowd on how he’d fucked up. After a few moments she handed off the instruction to her mother, who’d promised to turn STRIKE from a group of talented agents to a solid fighting force. Daisy wiped the sweat from her brow, making her way towards where Yossi had watched the bout.As she approached him, he clapped a hand to her shoulder.
“I’m glad to have you back in charge, boss.”
“It’s boss now?”
“Well I can’t call you Agent Wen anymore, and there’s already an Agent Sousa. Commander feels too formal, Louise is too informal…” Daisy raised her hands in surrender, a slow grin replacing the skeptical frown on her face.
“Alright, alright. I guess I’m boss now.”
He stood side by side with his friend for a few minutes longer, watching as Morita taught the rest of the team how to fight a Super Soldier. The Howling Commandos were more familiar with how Captain Rogers had fought than how the Winter Soldier did, but hopefully their years of firsthand experience made a difference. All of the women assigned to STRIKE, and some of the scrawnier men, were more than familiar with how to dance around the blows of a bigger and stronger opponent, striking where he was weak. Yossi could only hope the same tactics applied to a Super Soldier. Daisy hadn’t told him who the target was yet, but he knew HYDRA was planning to use Barnes to kill someone next November. She was determined to make sure that never happened, and he couldn’t agree more. After the initial shock of learning that she was from the future, he’d very quickly learned to trust Daisy and May’s judgement. Besides, Barnes was a hero, and Yossi knew all too well what HYDRA did to the people it captured and experimented on. Bucky Barnes had received an updated, functional version of the same failed serum Reinhardt had tested on Yossi several years previously. That had only been the beginning of Barnes’ suffering at the hands of HYDRA. Yossi had joined the SSR to make sure that the people who’d hurt him and his family could never do the same to anyone else, and he’d failed in that mission so far. He owed it to Barnes to do better.
His left forearm started to itch, and he scratched at it, grateful for the distraction from the memory of every cell in his body sizzling with pain. The monster who’d done that to him was locked up just a couple floors down. It would be so easy to stroll down to the basement and shoot Reinhardt in the face, but he was still useful. He knew Daisy had no intention of following through on the offer of a commuted sentence, and maybe someday that butcher would give him an excuse to shoot him in the face. Daisy would definitely allow it. She’d probably hand him the gun, and Daniel would turn a blind eye. He’d known those two were going to end up together since he’d found them in Malick’s basement, covered in dust and blood and clinging to each other like their lives depended on it. If he’d known they would end up some of the most powerful people in SHIELD, his superior officers twice over for years rather than a relatively quick mission, and dear friends, he probably wouldn’t have teased them so much.
“What do you think?” Daisy interrupted his thoughts by asking. Yossi pondered his options before replying, looking over the incredibly fast-space sparring of the agents.
“My old team is good, but they’re not used to working with others. Splitting them up for sparring was a good call. Gallagher’s overconfident, but not by much. Takashima and Fernandez might be the best agents I’ve seen in a while.” Natalie Takashima was an unassuming young woman fresh out of the Operations academy, while Joaquin Fernandez had military experience and perhaps a bit too much bloodlust. Their talent was beyond question, even if neither seemed too enthused about working in a team rather than on their own. The arrogance of youth, which would surely fade with time.
“Aside from me?” Daisy quipped.
“Aside from you.”
“And Hanna Kanoffsky? Our new Widow? Carter said you two are close”
Yossi swallowed before he responded. The young woman who’d been the first to defect from the Red Room had spirit, and had it in spades. Daisy’s teams had found her in the process of killing seven men with a butter knife, standing guard over young girls, during the raid on the Red Room. Naturally, she’d been offered a job, and took it. Already trained in espionage and combat, she fit right in with SHIELD. Many Widows had joined SHIELD, eager for a taste of freedom and the chance to strike back at the group that had ripped them from their families and turned them into killers. The brainwashed needed more work, but had slowly been rehabilitated. Kanoffsky was lucky to not be among them.
Unlike the rest of STRIKE, chosen purely for their resumes, Yossi’s bond with the former Widow was much more selfish. It wasn’t romantic in the least- he’d never cared for women romantically or sexually, and she was young enough to be his daughter. No, he’d taken her under his wing, showed her around SHIELD, and made sure she had everything she needed for an entirely different reason: Hanna was so much like his sister it hurt. She was the same age Rokhl had been when the War began. The last time he’d seen his sister alive was when he’d left Kraków to fight the Germans, his reservist status having been changed to active duty as the Nazis poured over his country’s borders. Two months after that, he’d been in Reinhardt’s base, his unit defeated by HYDRA rather than the SS squads that would have likely just shot him on site once they learned his last name. Instead, he ended up one of a handful of survivors of the mad doctor’s experiments, and by 1940 his family had been killed in an erstwhile attempt to isolate genetic structures more accepting of Reinhardt’s serum. He’d caught only a glimpse of his sister and parents’ bodies before being sent off to the SS and thrown in with the rest of the Jewish POWs.
At War’s end, he’d found himself half-starved in Buchenwald when the Americans liberated it. Yossi had always had an ear for languages, and managed to explain in passable English that he wanted to help, not just sit in a DP camp to be shipped off to die in his former hometown or waiting for a visa to some place not tainted with bloody memories. Eventually, after weeks of pleading with the MPs, some officer with a kind heart took notice of his bland, forgettable looks, military experience, and skill with languages, and sent him off to the SSR to begin his work as a spy. In all the years since, he’d tried to forget his life before and during the war as much as possible. He gave up on that after the SSR became SHIELD, and by the time he’d learned HYDRA was alive and well he’d made his peace with himself and his family’s fate. Coming face-to-face with Reinhardt after so many years had been terrifying, but the opportunity to bring HYDRA to its knees a second time and make the bastard suffer was too tempting, so Yossi had shoved his feelings aside and focused on work. He was always angry, always felt as though some part of him was broken, but he could bring himself to say Kaddish on what he had arbitrarily assigned as the Yahrzeit for his family, and light a candle.
When he’d been brought in by Carter to help pacify and debrief the Widows, he’d been shocked to see Kanoffsky among them. Her tight brown curls, big blue eyes, and even her rare smiles were almost identical to his long-dead sister’s. He’d had a Russian-speaking friend check the Red Room’s records, out of curiosity, but apparently they had no blood relation. Leviathan had snatched her out of the chaos at the end of the war, just another forgettab;le child orphaned by the Shoah and its aftermath. Her name was, by some miracle, the same one she’d been assigned at birth, and some other sparse documentation was attached to her dossier. The Red Room might not have told their Widows anything of their past, but they did thorough research of their own, which SHIELD had shared with the women as soon as they could. Kanoffsky was from Minsk, not Krakow, and had no living relatives save a cousin she couldn’t remember in Haifa and his Yekke wife, neither of whom she had any interest in seeking out. The resemblance to his sister was just an uncanny coincidence, but not one he could ignore.
Thankfully, the girl seemed to understand he wasn’t trying to sleep with her, and accepted the help and guidance Yossi had offered. They’d become close, with a mutual respect for each other’s combat skills and stubborn survival capabilities. He’d been delighted to learn the Red Room had instructed her to learn Yiddish due to her ‘Jewish looks’, as her trainers had put it, and they conversed in the mamaloshen often. He hadn’t told her what had initially drawn him to make sure she was alright, but suspected she knew. Widows had all been trained to seem less intelligent than they were, but he recognized the glimmer in Hanna’s eye. Rokhl had had that same look, until Reinhardt had left her eyes bloody craters, dissolved by the serum he’d injected her with. Yossi refused to let the same thing happen to her doppelganger.
“Yeah. We are,” he answered, keeping his voice steady and betraying nothing. “She’s a good agent.”
Daisy didn’t pry further, and the rest of the afternoon went by uneventfully, as the new team forged friendships and learned each other’s strengths. Yossi could only hope they’d stand up to a real threat as effectively as they did in training.
Notes:
Daisy refounding + leading STRIKE has always been my plan. She was groomed for leadership by Coulson for five seasons, and she was damn good at it. She deserves a chance to run her own elite squad, and there's no one better suited for the role. Plus, her mom did it in Mace's SHIELD, it's only fitting Daisy gets a turn too. It did take her several years to accept that she's a good commander, move on from the secret warriors' fuck-ups, and not responsible for every paper cut her subordinates get, but she's gotten there.
My habit of naming side characters after musicians continues lol. Since I don't flesh out my side characters or OCs nearly enough, Yossi got his own POV this week. His backstory has finally moved from my tens of thousands of words of notes to the fic itself. Figured he deserved something beyond a one-liner every few chapters. Plus, I wanted to show how Daisy's managed to secure the respect of those who've worked with her, from someone who actual respects her rather than a higher-up who's mad about it. She's always been charismatic, likeable, and inspiring.
Next week, we officially jump the shark, and cover Nov. 22, 1963, and the events leading up to it. In my defense, one of my first ideas for this fic was 'Daisy and May stop the Kennedy assassination', if only because there's no other confirmed canon assassinations that the Winter Soldier carried out before the Starks. Plus, it's kind of funny. Nothing wrong with being a bit ridiculous sometimes. I'm excited to write Bucky though- I don't have next week's chapter finished as of this posting (first time that's been the case in a month), but I do have a lot of pre-written scenes for the early 20s.
Quick reminder that I've posted a side story for this fic, which can be found in the series page. It's tangentially relevant for next week, so if you haven't read it yet, now's a good time.
Chapter 20
Summary:
The shark officially gets jumped.
Notes:
At the advice of my beta reader, GlaringRed, I've split what I had for this chapter into two parts. The next part will come next week, and now we've got 48 chapters. In good news, this means I'm already done with next week's chapter lmao. Comments and kudos are appreciated!
Chapter Text
August 20, 1963
In over a year of leading STRIKE, Daisy had built her team into a well-oiled machine. They lived up to their reputation, with not a single casualty and dozens of successful missions that had been branded impossible by her superiors. Flynn really had a knack for shoving her into the most difficult situations possible, but in all fairness, she had literally signed up for that. Only some of their missions had focused on HYDRA, the rest covering everything from 084 retrieval to neutralizing Soviet assets to repelling a minor alien invasion. Her mother often supervised, trained, or ran back-end on STRIKE’s missions, while Daisy herself ran every mission from the ground. She loved it. It felt good to be making a difference again, publicly as well as privately. She’d created something she could take pride in, and had plenty of new scars to show for it. STRIKE’s mixed bag of missions meant many of the operations she’d run were as publicly-known as was possible for a top-secret spy agency. The eagle-and-stars of her team, emblazoned on the shoulders of her uniforms (which were much more comfortable than early-sixties fashion), often drew awestruck stares from other agents in Camp Lehigh or the NY and DC offices. But despite all the success they’d achieved, the one mission they’d spent more than a year preparing for was still yet to come. It was mid-August, three months before November. Before the only known mission that HYDRA had sent the Winter Soldier on.
She and her mom had finally told the others who the Winter Soldier’s target was a couple weeks ago. To say Phillips hadn’t taken it well would be an understatement. Whatever he’d been expecting, an assassination of the President in broad daylight wasn’t it. Despite his reservations, he’d agreed that this was their best chance to capture the Soldier and gain his intelligence on HYDRA. Daisy’s mom had proposed cancelling the motorcade at the last second, to draw out the Soldier, and alerting the White House well ahead of time. Carter and Phillips had agreed, and the next installment in the endless series of meetings her life had turned into was supposed to be for figuring out what to do next.
She never would’ve asked for this goddamn job if she knew how many meetings it would involve. Daisy had had enough of them, and little enough patience, even before founding (refounding?) STRIKE, but now it was almost overwhelming. She hated bureaucracy. Sometimes, she missed her hacker days, when she only had to think about The System when she was telling it to fuck off. Contrary to what Flynn and Phillips believed, she hadn’t asked to run STRIKE out of a thirst for power or a grab for influence. Putting herself under Flynn’s command had been an attempt to show that. Instead, she’d dealt with his misogyny and incompetence for three months before managing to get her team sent on a decent mission. Naturally, it was wildly successful, and even he couldn’t bench STRIKE after that. Fieldwork, she couldn’t complain about. But meetings? She’d just wanted to put her skills to use, do some good where she could.
Thanks to whatever sorry excuse for a god was in charge of her life, this meeting was small and brief. No Thompson, no Flynn. Phillips had gotten to be almost tolerable lately- she wasn’t sure why, but she wasn’t complaining. May suspected he was up to something, that he was being less hostile now because he didn’t have as much cause to fear them. Apparently he felt more self-satisfied and confident these days, even as he grew older and frailer. Daisy wasn’t sure she wanted to know why, and at the moment, she had bigger priorities.
After arriving at Camp Lehigh with May and Daniel, MPs quickly ushered the family to their usual meeting room, where Carter and Phillips waited. After the usual pleasantries, they got straight to the minor business of how to prevent a Presidential assassination.
“Shouldn’t we alert the White House? That seems like the most straightforward option. We don’t have the numbers to handle this alone,” Daniel proposed.
“I’ve been trying to get in touch with the FBI, Secret Service, Dallas PD, and the President for weeks. All my calls are getting ignored, the secretaries keep feeding me platitudes. Something’s off here. How many people does HYDRA have in those agencies?” Phillips turned to Carter to supply the information he needed. He really wasn’t looking too good. Most of his hair had fallen out as he aged, and he seemed thinner and paler than he had in most of the photos she’d seen. He was speaking far too loudly too, as if his hearing was going. He had to be, what, eighty by now? He really needed to just retire, and let Peggy take over.
“A fair amount, but we’ve been keeping track of them.” The Brit sounded tired, but Daisy could hardly blame her. It was a complicated situation to say the least.
“Not well enough. If Hoover isn’t going to be of any help, SHIELD will have to do this on our own. And quietly. Once Barnes is in custody and the President is safe, we can move publicly, but the preparations can’t be undermined.” Huh. Actually direct and to the point. Good for Phillips. That got nods of agreement from all four other agents, and the Director turned back to his Deputy. “Carter, you’ve been drawing up plans for bringing him in alive?”
“HYDRA and the Red Room seem to have collaborated somewhat on mind control, and both have close ties to the Red Army. As far as we can tell, the Soldier never actually interacted with any Widows, but he was occasionally studied by Red Room scientists trying to refine their brainwashing, and so there was some data on him there. Combined with the tests run on Steve before… before, we have a vague idea of his capabilities and a fairly solid picture of his mental state, such as it is. We don’t expect ICERs will work, due to his increased metabolism from the serum, but too much dendrotoxin may very well stop his heart. A specialized cell is already being prepared by Stark, but your best chance to capture him is to give him a moderate to severe concussion. The notes we stole from the Red Room indicate that a blow to the head has caused him to regain memories and self-awareness in the past. The official term was ‘Cognitive Recalibration’. Once he’s been brought in, the concussion and reminders of the past should get him cooperative enough to submit to the rest of the treatments we’ve devised willingly.” Daisy winced at that description. She’d experienced the aftereffects of mind control before, and she’d seen how completely Agent 33 had been broken. If the look May gave her was any indication, she was remembering the same thing. Her mother’s powers had only gotten more refined over the years, with her ability to pick emotions out of a crowd becoming scarily accurate. Combined with how well she knew Daisy, she either could’ve thought of it on her own, or had her memory stimulated by Daisy’s own emotions.
“Treatments?” Daisy asked. Memories of an all-white, cold room and the mistrusting stares of the friends she betrayed came to mind. But no, that wasn’t her fault. It had been a decade since she’d become freed from Hive. She’d long ago accepted that it wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t betrayed anyone. Barnes deserved the same mercy that she should have been shown back then.
“Nothing fun, and largely theoretical. We’re not sure how it’ll work on him. The deprogrammed Widows who chose to stay with SHIELD went through a similar brainwashing process, but not an identical one. A mix of therapy, injections and light electrical currents to stimulate his brain activity, some reminders of his past, and seeking out closure should all help. Our consultants found that treatment plan helpful, hence why they chose to stay,” Carter clarified. Daisy’s fists clenched, but she kept her temper in check. It would have to be Barnes’ decision, of course. Hopefully it wasn’t as bad as Carter had made it sound, if the defected Widows had stuck around with SHIELD.
“One of the defectors has volunteered to meet with him after he’s in custody. Try to guide him through the process a bit, make it easier. I’m inclined to approve her request, provided that you and the Howling Commandos are the first people he sees when he wakes, Carter.” More competent decisions from Phillips? Wow.
“I agree. Agent Morozova will be an asset.” The name rang a bell, but Daisy hadn’t met all the Widows who’d joined up with SHIELD. Hopefully she could help Barnes.
“Barnes is a useful source of intel, but not a critical one. What are we doing about Kennedy?” May asked.
“That depends on how much our oracles here remember,” Daniel said, raising an eyebrow. The same words might have been biting from someone else, but Daisy recognized- and loved- the mirth in his eyes and his tone. Even so, Daisy rubbed at her forehead. She’d been dreading being asked this for years.
“Look, this might be a pretty famous historical event for us, but it’s been a couple decades since I had to think about the Kennedy Assassination.”
“Either of them,” May piped in, drawing looks of shock from the three people native to this timeline. Daisy had forgotten about Bobby Kennedy.
“Yeah, either of them. Had a band named after them and everything. I remember the Winter Soldier was involved, but only because it was on the files HYDRA and SHIELD had dumped after SHIELD fell. Coulson had me spend literal months looking through them for anything we could use against HYDRA. Conspiracy me freaked out when it came to light, I’d always known something weird was going on. ‘Who killed JFK’ was a common conspiracy rabbit hole to go down. There’s some really crazy people out there.”
“Plus I was HYDRA in the Framework. Barnes and Lee Harvey Oswald killed Kennedy, that’s a certainty.” Daisy cut in again before Phillips or Carter could pester May too much about what the Framework meant. She knew it wasn’t easy for her mother to carry two lifetimes worth of memories. At least Daisy could be grateful to May for rescuing her in both worlds, unlike Fitz who’d tortured her for no reason at all.
“I know it’s the 22nd of November because Simmons thought it was funny that it was the day before Doctor Who aired its pilot, and she made that comment about ‘major moments in American and British history aligning’ often enough that it stuck with me.” She missed Jemma’s nerdy Britishness.
“What’s Doctor Who?” her husband asked, his eyebrows scrunching up in that adorable way they did when he was confused.
“Wow, I’ve really been slacking in your education. It’s a TV show, about time travel actually. You’ll love it,” she assured him. Carter tapped her foot a couple times, getting everyone’s attention.
“Can we get back to what’s important here? Where does this assassination happen?”
“Dallas, at Dealey Plaza. A man named Lee Harvey Oswald had a crow’s nest somewhere, Barnes was probably hiding somewhere else. I don’t remember the specifics. We’ll have to lock down the whole plaza, discreetly. Bait the trap and don’t let him out. That’s assuming he doesn’t just set up somewhere else,” May explained.
“So this is one giant crapshoot,” Phillips muttered
“Essentially, yes. But if they don’t kill him in Dallas, they’ll probably just try again somewhere else. Somewhere we can’t predict or control. If we get Barnes, this war’s over before it starts,” Daisy explained.
“Your information might be entirely useless. Things have changed.” The Director was back to his usual curmudgeonly self, it seemed.
“Things have definitely changed, but I did drop out of high school before we really got to this part of American history. Mom, any specifics?”
“Most of the wars going on at the moment are a lot less messy. The Cuban Missile crisis never happened, that one surprised me. Neither did a few really famous SHIELD missions. I think without HYDRA having as much influence, things are a little calmer.” God, she hoped that was true. All this might be worth it if that was true. Could they really have almost single-handedly reduced global conflict just by missing their plane?
“You can’t seriously be naive enough to believe that. And hold on a sec, did you say you were HYDRA in a ‘Framework’?” Phillips cut in again. Shit, she’d hope he missed that.
“Robot mind prison. Long story, one I’d rather not go into,” May said. Her jaw clenched, and Daisy tried to fill her mind with comfort and calm. It seemed to work, her mother’s posture untensing.
“Daniel?” Carter asked
“I’ve heard it. They’re clean. Just a really fucked-up story.”
“I’ll have to take that for now,” Peggy sighed. “Should we even try? Is this even going to work?”
“It’s the best chance we’re going to get. Otherwise, we’ll have to mobilize with incomplete information, against a HYDRA that still has a Super Soldier. I’d rather get him out of the way before we do anything major,” Daisy said.
“We’ve made a lot of gambles over the past few years, Peggy. This’ll be the last. Once we’ve got his intel, and HYDRA doesn’t have him with them, we’ll be alright. Everything’s in place, or it will be soon. We’ve got dozens of targets to remove from SHIELD, a couple hundred verified agents with Hercules, and plenty of people in the outside world to go after too. The Soviet branch will be tough, but you mentioned a plan for it?” As usual, Phillips would listen to Daniel more so than her or May. When he wasn’t hurling insults at all three of them, anyways.
“The last time I spoke with the President, he’d developed a plan, yes. Some public relations stuff that went over my head. I don’t pretend to understand it, but he definitely wrote it down somewhere.”
The rest of the meeting went smoothly, with a plan quickly being hammered out. If they couldn’t get in touch with the White House, SHIELD would handle things itself. Which meant, as May put it in the car back to DC;
“They’re gonna dump the problem in your lap, and blame you if it all goes wrong.” In the passenger seat next to Daisy, she was rubbing at the old wound on her thigh. The piece of rebar she’d been impaled with in 2091 had been causing complications from the start, but it had only gotten worse over the past few years. Daisy blamed it on her stubborn refusal to stay in the Chronicom Healing Pod after dying in Izel’s temple, which could’ve patched up her various wounds and old scars. May just blamed it on getting old. She was in her sixties now, and while she still looked the same as she had when Daisy had met her, May insisted that she was feeling every one of her years more with each passing day. It had come as a shock when she’d stepped back from field work, years ago now, but as time went on it had started to make sense. According to May, she’d been considering stepping back to a teaching-only role since before Izel had attacked. May had always been an incredible teacher. The fact that that was all she did now- teaching and training, and occasionally coordinating a mission, had only made Daisy respect her more. She’d have been dead a long time ago (or far in the future, depending on how you look at it) if it wasn’t for May’s training. STRIKE wouldn’t have been even close to as successful as it was without her mother’s constant advice, training, last-minute input from her powers, and constant back-end coordination.
“Sounds like a typical mission then,” Daniel muttered from the backseat. “Except with, you know, the entire world watching this time.” Daisy and the woman who had become her mother shared a grin, which Daisy didn’t need to look back to know Daniel was mirroring.
“Sounds just like the good old days. You worry too much, hon.” Daniel laid a hand on her shoulder, and Daisy let herself take one hand off the wheel to place on top of his. She could literally feel the vibrations of May rolling her eyes, but politely ignored her mother.
“Someone has to,” he said. “You two don’t worry enough.” Daisy really hoped he was wrong.
November 22, 1963
Three months went by, but nothing changed. SHIELD’s attempts to reach the President began to fail in almost comical ways, including several inanely incompetent secretaries, an FBI agent who lied to Carter’s face, and even sudden road work blocking Phillips from talking to the Secret Service. If nothing else, HYDRA had been forced to tip its hand, revealing more connections and cronies that SHIELD had been previously unaware of, but it wasn’t enough. Daisy was quickly fed up with the efforts, and by October, the decision had been made. SHIELD would have to handle things entirely on its own.
It seemed like every important person in SHIELD was in or around Dallas, but STRIKE was still on its own. On the ground, FBI agents, cops, secret service, or hulking goons who no doubt worked for HYDRA waited in the most inconvenient of locations. In desperation, Daisy had had her team change from their tactical suits to civilian clothes, split into pairs, put in earpieces, and spread out around Dealey Plaza an hour before Kennedy was expected to arrive. Jack and Daniel were coordinating from a nearby hotel room, and she knew Carter was gathering up more agents in Fort Worth. Despite all the effort SHIELD had thrown into this, there were startlingly few agents and officers from local law enforcement or other agencies.
Something wasn’t right, she’d expected other authorities to continue being uncooperative, but this was undermining. HYDRA was setting things up to go their way. As disheartening as that knowledge was, at least it meant they were on the right track. The Soldier was here, and they’d make their move in Dallas. HYDRA wouldn’t have put this much effort into this particular opportunity unless they meant to take it. She caught Yossi’s eye across the street, where he and Hanna were playing the excited parent-and-child pair come to see the President, much as Daisy and Natalie Takashima were. He offered a slight nod, which Daisy returned, before going back to subtly scanning the area both with her eyes and her powers. Daisy didn’t think either she or Friedman looked old enough to be the parents of their charges, but since they weren’t exactly striking up conversations with passerby, all she had to do to blend in to the crowd was let the not-that-much-younger woman call her ‘mom’ instead of ‘ma’am’. It was still weird, but tolerable. A cover was a cover. Daisy spoke quietly into the radio concealed in her ear, trying to deflect from her nervous energy.
“All units, report in.”
“I don’t see shit, Commander.”
“We’re professionals, Gallagher, act like it,” Daisy said lightly.
“Sorry ma’am. I cannot see any fecal matter at the moment, Commander.” Despite herself, Daisy smiled. She’d learned during her brief stint as director that no-one liked a hardass for a boss, so she’d tried to loosen up as head of STRIKE. Allowing her team to have some fun wouldn’t actually hurt anyone. Gallagher had taken advantage of her lax attitude to establish himself as the adult, spy-agency version of a class clown, earning his team’s amusement and keeping the mood light in moments when despair or anxiety threatened to crush them all. She was glad of the young man’s presence, and his stupid sense of humor. Glancing across the plaza, she saw Gallagher chatting with Mancini while the other agent tried and failed not to laugh. He straightened when he noticed Daisy watching the pair, but she just shook her head fondly. Gallagher smiled wryly, offering a small salute before turning his attention back to the task at hand.
“Cut the chatter, STRIKE,” Thompson snarled over the radio. Daisy would’ve preferred for her mother to be overseeing the operation, but Phillips had insisted on Thompson, possibly based on the incorrect assumption he disliked her. More likely, he’d hoped Jack’s infamous ambition would overcome his loyalty to his friends. Maybe fifteen years ago that would have been the case, but now Daisy was confident that Thompson wasn’t reporting on her to Phillips. What the old man was planning she couldn’t say for certain, but with every tolerable day that passed she became more certain he had a scheme going.
“And I thought Daniel was a square. When did you become such a stickler for the rules, Thompson?” Daisy asked
“When Marge promoted me,” came the reply.
“Hey!” Her husband protested indignantly. The faint sounds of the two men arguing over the microphone came through the radio, with Jack seeming to win, as his voice came through next.
“She’s right, Sousa. Your only hobby is betting on horse racing and your best friend is your wife. You hang out with your mother in law on a regular basis. You’re a square.”
“Wow, Jack. Harsh. I have other hobbies.” Daniel really was way too easy to annoy.
“I can only think of one,” Daisy joked, earning a raised eyebrow from Takashima and giggles from the other agents on the line.
“Do you two ever stop flirting?” Friedman asked, his faint Slavic accent adding another layer of indignance to the complaint.
“No, they do not. It’s disgusting,” Jack agreed.
“What are you talking about? His other hobby is baseball, of course.” Daisy barely managed to hide her cackle at her husband’s surprised sputtering, but Natalie rewarded her efforts with an amused smile.
“It’s not a hobby if he only watches baseball, it’s not like he plays. You need a life, Daniel,” Thompson argued. A few more scuffling noises later, and Daniel’s voice was back on the radio.
“I’m gonna tell you the same thing I told Dooley. I’m a SHIELD agent, my job is my life.”
“And that’s why you’re a square, love.” Daniel’s sputtering reply- no doubt he was trying to find some way to tease her back without calling her Quake on an open channel- was cut off by Jim Morita.
“What happened to cutting the chatter? We’re trying to save the President here.” A chorus of “Sorry Jim”s replied, and the channel fell silent. She lightly elbowed Natalie in the side to get her to stop laughing, and the young woman managed to after a moment.
“You’re a beacon of professionalism, Commander.”
“I aspire to be nothing else.”
Her team didn’t always get along perfectly, and she knew a few of them really hated each other, but with over fifteen agents there was more than enough buffer material to work with. She just didn’t pair up any of the petty rivalries that had formed over stupid disputes she could barely bother to keep track of. Leadership was exhausting. She’d forgotten how much of her time searching for Fitz on the Zephyr was spent resolving squabbles between the crew. Thankfully, Yossi’s old team already worked rather well together, and she was fairly sure that there were at least three couples within STRIKE. Daisy had no proof, and couldn’t pin down their exact relationship statuses, but she’d been able to sense… elevated heart rates on the base more than ones. That hadn’t been pleasant. The downside of nobody on her team (aside from Yossi) knowing about her powers was that they were all extremely unsubtle when they thought they were being sneaky. Daisy didn’t care much either way though, she would’ve been pretty hypocritical to chastise her people for dating other agents. Besides, it hadn’t interfered with any missions so far- although if Natalie and Hanna didn’t stop making eyes at each other every chance they got, whatever they had going on probably would end up being a distraction. She should probably do something to get the two idiots to stop pining and start doing something about it, before it became too much for her to bear.
The next hour was completely uneventful. A lot of waiting, a lot of small jokes and subtle nods between the various pairs of agents scattered around the area. No one had any luck. Either Barnes wasn’t here, or he was really, really good. Daisy wasn’t sure which option was worse. As the motorcade finally came into view, she realized that one way or another, they were too late. Fighting back panic, she kept reaching out with her vibrations, but came up empty.
“I see him! On the little grass hill, a hundred feet back from the road, northwest of the plaza!” Morita shouted.
“Everyone, converge on that location!” Daniel sounded more harried than she’d heard from him in years, and she knew
Before she could do more than sprint towards the Grassy Knoll, Takashima on her heels, the sound of two shots rippled across the square in short succession. Daisy didn’t even have time to curse her failure before she finally got close enough to sense the titanium arm of her target. All that work to lock down the whole area, and the Soldier stayed on the Grassy Knoll, just like he had in the original timeline. She latched on to the rich vibrations of the titanium, sprinting across the suddenly chaotic plaza, dodging panicked civilians and frenzied cops. Somewhere, JFK had just had his head blown apart. If she was lucky, she could still complete the rest of the mission.
By the time she reached his perch, tucked away on the Grassy Knoll, the Soldier had already packed away his sniper rifle, and looked to be on the verge of sprinting off to his rendezvous with his handlers. He startled at Daisy’s intrusion, kicking aside the rifle and sizing her up from behind his mask. Squaring off against him, Daisy could tell that the Winter Soldier was more than human. Everything about him felt just a little bit off. His muscles were too dense, bones too sturdy, heartbeat too fast, his metal arm both throwing off his balance and simultaneously feeling completely different. He carried himself simultaneously like a bully and a victim, relying on his strength and size but always expecting to be attacked. His entire face was covered by a black mask and tinted goggles, while his clothing was a black tactical suit that added a menace to his hulking presence and shoulder-length, greasy hair. What had HYDRA done to this poor guy? Her pity didn’t last, quickly replaced by pure adrenaline as he pulled a sidearm from his belt faster than any human should be able to move, firing several shots at Daisy before charging towards her.
Even the white-hot pain of a bullet tearing through her left bicep couldn’t hold a candle to the horror of feeling a heartbeat stop behind her. One of her team had just died, but there was no time to think about that. She’d have to try to beat the Winter Soldier one-handed. She dodged the metal fist swung at her face, and tried to kick out his knee. He moved far too quickly for her, and she hit nothing but air, recovering her balance before she could fall. The unmistakeable sound of an ICER firing sounded thrice- thank fuck for her team. The Soldier stumbled, clearly woozy, but didn’t do her the courtesy of passing out.
“Stay back! I’ve got this! Any more and you’ll kill him,” she shouted. Daisy waved off the three team members who were rushing towards her, guns trained on the stumbling assassin. A crowd of panicked civilians was starting to gather, running around the edges of the fight.
“Ma’am, you’re hurt!” Daisy wasn’t sure which of her people had shouted for her, but it didn’t matter.
“I’ll be fine. Get the civilians out of here. That’s an order.” Daisy had no time to check if her orders were followed before the fight resumed. Daisy was able to quake another gun apart, but the Soldier just drew a long combat knife from somewhere and hurled it at her. She threw up a barrier with her powers to deflect it, and ignored the likelihood that someone had seen. Daisy didn’t have the luxury of pulling punches, not if the Soldier wasn’t going to pull his. He slashed, stabbed, and punched, using his unnatural strength and speed along with that goddamn arm, a whirlwind of strikes that required all her skill to avoid. Most infuriatingly, his heartbeat stayed completely steady. The Winter Soldier wasn’t exerting himself at all, while Daisy was hanging on by a thread. Every motion he made was completely methodical, calculated faster than she could think. She barely stayed alive, dodging his blows when she could and slowing them to a tolerable degree when she couldn’t. But he was faster, stronger, had more stamina, and was uninjured. Daisy’s left arm was lagging behind the right- thankfully the bullet had just grazed her, it was just a flesh wound, but it was bad enough to slow her down. Daisy needed an opening. When he tried to backhand her with his metal arm, she latched onto the feel of the titanium in his arm and poured her will into it. It froze, vibrating in its socket, and the Soldier grunted in pain. He was human after all. Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, Daisy put a vibration behind her fist and punched her childhood hero in the chest as hard as she could. He flew backwards at least twenty feet, slamming into a lamppost. Thankfully, his heart kept beating. Killing him would’ve been inconvenient.
The Soldier staggered to his feet, tearing off the now-cracked mask and goggles, and scowling at her with barely restrained fury. Seeing Bucky Barnes looking at her with that much cold hatred was unnerving, most of the historical photos showed him smiling or laughing at one of Captain America’s jokes. Hopefully he’d get to smile again soon. If her vibrations were any indication, Daisy had broken a few of his ribs. At least he was capable of feeling some pain? That had to be a good sign, right? He wasn’t invincible? Daisy rose her hands placatingly, dimly aware of the rest of STRIKE either lining up shots, getting civilians to safety, or arguing with cops. Civilians were still screaming in the background- the President’s head had just been blown apart, it was a fair response. But they weren’t her problem.
“Listen! Listen to me. Your name is James Buchanan Barnes. Your parents were George and Winnifred, you were born in Brooklyn in 1917. You fought for America in World War Two, you were a Sergeant in the 107th. The Howling Commandos, but they weren’t called that until after HYDRA captured you and brainwashed you. Whatever, that’s not important. Your best friend was Captain America, Steve Rogers-” She wasn’t anywhere close to done with her spiel, but it clearly wasn’t working. The Winter Soldier cocked his head for a moment before drawing another gun, which she quaked apart. “Christ, how many weapons do you have?” He drew two more thin knives, moving quicker than she could hope to escape from even with his cracked ribs. “Wait! See that man over there! His name is Jim Morita, he’s your friend-” the Soldier didn’t look, even as Morita shouted his name. Daisy was too slow to stop the knife that slashed across her stomach, but was barely quick enough to dodge most of the blade. She felt blood seep into her blouse, but the lack of entrails spilling out onto her feet was a relief. She really didn’t want to get disemboweled today. Pain pulsed from the gash that ran horizontally over her navel, but she could fight through it. Daisy raised her fists, letting the Soldier come to her.
Snarling, he launched another series of slashes. Daisy was done playing around, and she didn’t have much time to keep this up. She’d probably faint from blood loss if this continued for too much longer. She wasn’t going to die from the bullet hole on her arm or slash on her gut, but it didn’t exactly tickle either. Hurling herself backwards, she dodged the knife with feet to spare. She propelled herself forwards with her powers, leaping directly at the Soldier. Daisy had just enough time to see the look of shock in his eyes before her fist collided with his temple, and he crumpled to the ground. Daisy landed in a roll, getting back up to her feet right where the Soldier had dropped his rifle. She turned around and found Barnes passed out cold, looking almost peaceful with his legs strewn under him and his hair falling around his face.
Daisy caught her breath as her team swarmed forward to clap the Winter Soldier in specially designed cuffs. Stark had promised they’d work, hopefully he was right. The hole in her arm burned, every breath was searing pain where she’d barely avoided being gutted like a fish, and the cuts and bruises all over her stung. She didn’t doubt she’d have several more scars when all the wounds healed. That pain was nothing compared to watching two of her team throw a coat over Gallagher’s prone form. Takashima and Fernandez, good agents that they were, quickly joined the others, hiding their grief for the moment. She could see in the set of Fernandez’s jaw and in the shine of Natalie’s eyes that they were grieving, but there was a time and a place for that later. She’d led her people into a fight they couldn’t win, and gotten someone killed. Gallgaher was an idiot, but he was a good agent, and her responsibility. She’d failed him. But such was the burden of command. She wouldn’t have asked Peggy for a team of her own if she thought she wouldn’t be able to handle this. It was awful, and she’d never forgive herself, but she would survive. HYDRA wouldn’t.
Chapter 21
Notes:
Wow. 100k words. Never thought I'd get this far lmao. Thanks to everyone who's stuck around!
Comments make me happy :)
Chapter Text
November 22, 1963
Half of STRIKE was holding off the civilians and cops, all of whom were rushing forward now that the danger had passed, and the other half had their guns on Barnes. She saw Hanna squeeze Takashima’s shoulder in a rare display of emotion, the other woman squeezing her bicep in return before shifting her focus to the unconscious super soldier. Friedman was calmly explaining to an old lady why this area was off limits, while two of his old team were stopping a cop from getting any closer to Barnes. At least the rest of her people were okay. She had no idea how many of them had seen her use her powers, but that was a problem for another day. For now, Morita was looking mournfully down at Barnes, examining his old friend. Daisy wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but hoped he found it.
The next few minutes passed in a blur. Barnes was in a SHIELD van before the cops could stop them, and was whisked off to the cell Stark had built for him. As soon as her people stopped keeping back the crowd of law enforcement, they surged forward, and the pain of bureaucracy began. Daisy thankfully only had to deal with the police and secret service for fifteen minutes before Daniel, Jack, and Peggy arrived to take command. Well, Peggy arrived to take command, Jack and Daniel arrived to bicker with cops and take the flak meant for Carter. Daisy had about five minutes of getting fretted over by STRIKE’s medic while Morita and Friedman debriefed Carter, Jack waved a badge at a Secret Service officer, and Daniel yelled at some G-Man or another, before both her husband and his ex were walking towards the picnic bench Winslow had commandeered as a medical station. Daisy had been able to staunch the bleeding before the medic started fretting over her, but the stitches and disinfectant were still a welcome relief. Before Daisy’s husband could ask her anything, Carter waved off the medic and gestured at Daniel. He knelt beside her with a grunt of pain and immediately set to work finishing treating her wounds. It had become something of a tradition for him to patch her up after missions. A weird tradition, maybe, but she didn’t mind. She didn’t trust doctors, but she trusted Daniel with her life.
“How many people saw your powers?” Carter asked, as soon as she was sure no one else was close enough to hear.
“A lot, but it all happened so fast that I think we can probably convince them it was nothing. And my people will keep quiet.”
“You know the alternative?”
“Dissection? Yeah, I’m… intimately familiar.” Her husband squeezed her uninjured shoulder, but stayed quiet for now, focused on her arm wound.
“We’re not going to dissect you, Daisy,” Carter assured her.
“That’s what everyone says right before they try to dissect me. I know the deal I made. How about a cover story? Experimental new Stark tech?”
“And your wounds are proof it didn’t work, so it won’t be brought into mass-production. That might work, but only once,” Daniel added.
“I think this situation calls for playing all our cards,” Daisy stated.
“Agreed. Good work today. And I’m sorry about your agent,” Peggy said apologetically.
“He was a good man. I’m sorry too.”
“I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but Bucky-” Daisy cut off her boss before she could say anything stupid.
“I don’t blame him. HYDRA killed Gallagher, and it was my sloppiness that let them do it. I’ve been mind controlled before, and my whole team hated and distrusted me for the things I did to them because of it. I plan on showing Barnes the same courtesy I wish they’d shown me.” Another supportive shoulder squeeze from her husband, and he was closing up the first-aid kit. She was all bandaged up. Daniel remained kneeling next to her, letting Carter finish her abbreviated debrief.
“That’s very mature of you.”
“You’re, like, three years older than me,” Daisy reminded her.
“Point taken. Though seriously, thank you. You saved a friend of mine today, and a friend of Steve’s, from a fate worse than death. I never even would have known he was alive if not for you. Plus, this might’ve just won us the war.”
“Don’t mention it, Carter.”
“I’m trying to give you a compliment. And I think you can call me Peggy at this point.”
“I’d say you can use my first name but, well…”
“Fair enough. If I call you nothing but ‘Agent’, will you please stop calling me Carter? It makes you sound like Jack.” Daniel snorted, leading both women to shoot him a withering glare that quickly silenced him.
“That’s a cruel comparison. Fine, I’ll call you Peggy. Does that make us friends?”
“I suppose it does, Agent . Carry on.” Peggy left with a smirk to go check in with Thompson, and Daniel immediately wrapped Daisy in a gentle hug. Daisy laid her head on his shoulder, letting the last of her adrenaline drain away.
“Are you okay, Dais? Those looked painful.”
“I’ll be alright. I’m just glad we got him.”
“You did it. The last nail in HYDRA’s coffin. When we get out of here, we’re celebrating.”
“After we raid a bunch of HYDRA bases, arrest a lot of assholes, and you finally get to shoot Malick, then we’re celebrating.”
“You always have the better plans.” Daisy felt her smile disappear, and she glanced over at where several of her team were talking in hushed tones. None were crying, but all looked distraught.
“Not good enough, apparently. Gallagher died because I wasn’t careful.”
“I’m sorry. But you can’t blame yourself for his death. You’ve led this team for a year and a half with only one casualty; by any metric, that’s a minor miracle.”
“I know, I know.” Daniel quickly pressed a light kiss to her lips, then stood, squeezing her hand.
“I need to help Peggy and Jack deal with the local cops so we can get the hell out of here. You should talk with your team, sweetheart. They all knew him better than I did.” Getting out of Texas as soon as possible was definitely in everyone’s best interest.
“Good luck with the Texans.”
“You know me, sweetheart. I’m sure they’ll have tons of paperwork for me to fill out. I’ll have a great time.”
“Hold it!” Shouted an unfamiliar voice, laced with a Texan drawl.
The couple glanced at each other in confusion, then over at the local cop who was glaring sternly at them. Daniel found his voice first.
“Sorry officer, I know we’re in plainclothes, but we’re both federal agents. SHIELD was running an operation here, as I’m sure you know.” When the officer’s smoldering anger and suspicion didn’t let up, Daisy handed him her SHIELD badge, and Daniel did the same. They were both familiar with being underestimated- few expected a disabled man or a woman of color to have any legitimate reason to be at a crime scene, regardless of the decade. The cop thoroughly analyzed their IDs, then harrumphed when he handed them back.
“Same last name. You folks related?” Cursing their stupidity, Daisy realized too late what the issue was. They’d spent too long living in DC and working in New York and New Jersey, rarely going to the Playground, in Virginia, together. It was still the early sixties, and their marriage was illegal in half the country. SHIELD had desegregated its southern offices years ago, at Peggy’s insistence. Well, maybe she could be a thorn in the side of the justice system. Make enough very small ripples to one day have an impact.
“Married,” she said. The cop smiled without humor, clearly hoping for that answer. The various agents and officers milling about paid the three of them no mind.
“I’ll be arresting you now then, for miscegenation.”
“Kissing someone of another race isn’t against the law,” Daniel argued, already having caught on to what she was thinking.
“Marriage and intercourse are,” the asshole cop spat back.
“We’re just passing through, officer. And we’ve never had sex in Texas, have we?” Daisy asked, feigning innocence and trusting her husband to pick up on her plan.
“Well there was that op in Galveston last year…” Exactly what she’d been thinking. Neither of them had ever been to Galveston.
“Ah, never mind.” Daisy smiled sweetly at the dickwad officer, who seemed to be halfway to a stroke. He was shifting rapidly from tomato to violet, and his eyes looked like they were about to pop out of their skull.
“That’s it, you’re both under arrest. I don’t care who you are.”
“ How much trouble would I get in if I punched that guy in the face? ” Daisy muttered to her husband in Portuguese. Provoking the cop by speaking in a language he couldn’t understand probably wasn’t the best idea. Naturally, Daisy took the opportunity to piss him off. She expected her husband to roll his eyes in exasperation, but instead Daniel’s jaw clenched.
“ Less than if I did. ”
“Daniel-”
“ Eight years of this bullshit. You deserve better. Just one punch. ”
“ No, if we’re doing this, I’ll do it. ”
“ You can’t throw a punch, your arm’s been shot. You’ll pop your stitches. ”
“ Then I’ll kick him. Or use my other arm. ”
“Hands up! Both of you. We can sort this out at the station. Stop babbling in whatever language that is! Speak English!” They both ignored the man’s hysterical commands, continuing to bicker.
“ What good is white privilege if you can’t use it to beat up racist cops? ”
“ Okay, one punch. Make it count. ”
“ Of course, meu amor. ” Daniel switched to English, trying to smile calmly at the cop. “Look, I’ll give you one more chance to be smart about this, or I’ll arrest you for obstructing a federal investigation. Besides, she’s injured.” The cop snarled and pulled two pairs of cuffs from his belt, moving towards the couple. Daisy would be lying if she said she wasn’t a bit excited for this. She held up her hands, smiling sweetly.
“You really don’t want to do this.”
The cop still moved to cuff her, but Daniel’s fist slammed into his jaw before the dumbass got within a foot of either of them. The cop stumbled backwards, and he spit blood onto the pavement, glaring daggers at them both. Daisy chuckled at his misfortune, while Daniel just grinned in sheepish pride. She was tempted to kiss the smug look off his face, but that would probably lead to a repeat of the current situation. Apparently the dumbass knew when to quit, because he backed off rather than return the punch. The rest of the cops who’d been keeping an eye on their exchange seemed to have backed away, either out of fear or simply reluctance to get involved. Daniel still had that smug look on his face, but they had work to do, she could kiss him later.
“Sousa! What the hell was that!” Thompson seemed to have been the only SHIELD agent to notice the interaction, and was now storming over towards them.
“Don’t worry about it, Jack.” The two men engaged in a staring contest for a moment, arguing silently, and completely beyond Daisy’s comprehension. After a moment, Jack threw up his hands, admitting defeat. She liked Thompson, he’d even taken the revelation that she was from the future surprisingly well, but he could still be a prick, and it was painfully obvious that he was in love with her husband. She’d never been the jealous type, and she knew nothing would happen between them, but it was still awkward.
“You two are gonna be the death of me, I swear to God. Every few years you find a new way to give me a heart attack.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Daisy quipped. Jack mock-glared at her, though his tone was serious.
“Don’t. C’mon Sousa- no, not you, the original Sousa- Marge needs us for something.” Daniel stood with a grunt of pain, leaning heavily on his cane. Daisy got up as well, putting a hand to his chest and sending a wave of vibrations through his sore muscles. He sighed in relief, kissing her on the cheek before either of them could think better of it, before leaving to follow his friend. With her buffers gone, Daisy was immediately swamped by everyone from STRIKE agents to very confused Secret Service. She sighed to herself before diving into the mess she’d had a hand in making. This was going to be a long day.
Daisy was right. It was a very, very long day. She hated being right. Some time later, a car’s tires squealed as it pulled up to what had turned into an informal command center. Some white dude with slicked-back hair, a suit, and a scowl got out, making a beeline for where Peggy, Jack, Daniel, and Daisy were still being bogged down by the cops and Secret Service. He flashed a badge, showing off the FBI’s symbol to the assembled SHIELD agents.
“Special Agent Brown, FBI. I’m taking charge of this crime scene. Where’s the suspect?”
“Actually, SHIELD has things under control, and the suspect is in custody. It’s been… what, an hour? Two? Your presence was not missed. Things are well in hand here,” Peggy primly replied. The agent, who’d been looking to Jack for a response, seemed equally shocked and annoyed by Carter’s answer.
“Who the hell gave you all jurisdiction? I’ve never even heard of SHIELD.”
“Of course we have jurisdiction over our own personnel, Special Agent,” Carter said curtly. The FBI agent had the decency to look shocked, but Daisy was too tired to pay attention to what his heart rate had to say.
“A SHIELD agent killed the president?”
“That’s classified,” Peggy deadpanned. Jack snickered, and Daniel smiled from the corner of his mouth, so only Daisy could see.
“Listen lady, I don’t know who the hell you think you are, or how you all got here so quickly, but murder’s a state offense, not a federal one.”
“I got here as quickly as I did because my agency has been trying to inform the FBI and Secret Service of this assassination for months now. My people were here to stop it, and very nearly succeeded. I know more than you. Now let me do my job.” Daisy barely resisted the urge to high five Carter, even while the FBI agent- who could very well be HYDRA- kept ranting.
“Your job? One of your agents knocked out a Dallas PD officer! You people are starting street fights!” He pointed an accusatory finger at Daniel’s bruised knuckles. He was observant, if nothing else. “Show some damn respect, English. I didn’t vote for Kennedy but this is still a tragedy.” Carter’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and Daisy knew the man was in for it now.
“By all accounts, that officer was preventing two of my best agents from doing their jobs, and tried to lay a hand on one of them. Sounds justified to me.” Daisy smirked, squeezing Daniel’s hand just because she could. The Agent’s eyes flicked down to their joined hands, then back up to Peggy.
“Fine. But I’ll bring this straight to Hoover.”
“Oh, by all means. I’ve been wanting to speak to your esteemed director for a while now.” Brown looked ready to punch somebody, but unlike her and Daniel, the agent clearly had some impulse control. Once he’d stormed off to go argue with someone else, Peggy turned back to her agents. Jack and Daniel were ordered to go inspect the facility Barnes was being held at, then report to SHIELD’s airfield outside the city. Daniel left with a quick smile and a promise to see her soon. She believed him without question or worry, and allowed herself a moment to marvel over how insane that would’ve seemed to her ten years ago. They were already halfway to the row of SHIELD-marked cars by the time Carter gave Daisy her orders in a voice too quiet for anyone else to hear. “You and STRIKE can go home, Daisy. I’ll handle the bureaucracy. We’ll need you at full strength when we finally move against HYDRA.” With an agent down, they’d never be at full strength again. Shit, she was gonna have to find a replacement. Who could replace Gallagher? Who would want to, with a CO as incompetent as her? Daisy held her tongue, keeping her thoughts to herself, and asked Peggy the first question that came to mind.
“And when will that be?”
“If we get lucky with Barnes, as soon as next week. I’ll want your team going after Malick and the other heads, while Colonel Stoner and his people sweep through SHIELD facilities.” Next week? Holy shit. All this time, and everything was just a week away. She barely managed to keep herself from literally vibrating with excitement.
“That’ll just be the beginning.”
“I know. But it’s as good a start as any. And for God’s sake, try to avoid assaulting any more officers of the law?” Thankfully, she didn’t sound too disapproving.
“He was-”
“I know.”
“Daniel-”
“I’m well aware. And he will certainly be facing consequences for this. But I also know the two of you well enough to know that he probably only did the punching because you’re injured. So if nothing else, stay north of the Mason-Dixon line for a little while. Daniel’s still slated to take Malick’s job when we finally arrest the bastard, but I wouldn’t expect any more promotions for him after that. Not for a few years anyway. Phillips and Flynn will probably want both your heads just for being inconvenient. Luckily for all of us, they can’t afford to lose or demote either of you at this point, not with everything that’s about to happen. I’d still get used to being stuck in limbo for a while.” She had not meant to shift blame to her husband, and definitely hadn’t meant for him to get stuck with these consequences for an offhand remark she’d made. But if he hadn’t punched the guy, Daisy definitely would have. And Daniel was an adult, he could make his own decisions.
“Top brass hates me and I’ve got a minor injury. What else is new,” she grumbled.
“That is… a concerningly accurate assessment of your life. Have you always been like this?”
“Believe it or not I’ve been with SHIELD in your time for longer than I was in my own. But yes. Took two in the gut on one of my first field ops, got tortured a few times, had my blood drained… that one was sorta my fault. If there’s a god, I’m his pincushion.” Peggy blinked in shock, opening and closing her mouth a few times before deciding on what to say.
“Then I’m ordering you to go home and rest. I’ll send Rose over to enforce that order.”
“Yes ma’am.” Daisy threw her a lazy, two-fingered salute, which Peggy carefully ignored.
“And once he gets to the airstrip, take that idiotic husband of yours with you before he breaks a Senator’s nose or something.”
“Is there a story behind that very specific example?” she asked hopefully.
“Almost. I’ll tell you someday.” With that, Daisy was once again left on her own amidst a gaggle of law enforcement, press, and civilians. She really needed a nap.
Despite Peggy’s dismissal, the roads remained closed, and all of SHIELD’s cars were busy ferrying away Daisy’s team. She’d chosen to go last, it was only fair that the more inexperienced agents could leave the site of their comrade’s death more quickly. She’d allowed Morita and Friedman to coordinate their departure, fielding the brunt of the questions that various officials had for her team. Finally, when it was just the two of them left, she found Friedman over by the slowly thinning pool of SHIELD vehicles.
“How are you, boss?”
“Why’d you tell me to take this job, Yossi?” Daisy asked wearily.
“When did I do that?”
“What, not something you’d say?”
“No, no, I believe it. I just don’t remember is all.” She rolled her eyes, but in fairness, it had been a while ago.
“Kuwait. You said you thought I should be a commanding officer more often. It stuck with me.”
“Simple. You should be, because you’re good at it. No one else could have beaten him.” Daisy decided not to argue with the agent, if only because it would go nowhere. She changed the subject instead.
“Carter told you the cover for my powers?”
“Yeah, Stark tech. The team believes it. Jim’s a bit suspicious, but staying quiet.”
“Good. How many are asking for their own gauntlets, or whatever we’re saying it was?”
“No one. They’re all too shaken up, still. Might take a few days before they can think about getting superpowers.”
“Gallagher?”
“Gallagher. Losing your first subordinate’s never easy, but don’t blame yourself.”
“He wasn’t the first subordinate I’ve gotten killed. Not by a long shot.”
“You didn’t get him killed. HYDRA did. It-”
“If you say it wasn’t my fault, I swear to god-”
“I was going to say it wasn’t Barnes’ fault either. But it isn’t your fault.”
“Fuck you,” she said, but there was no anger to it. Yossi sighed, leading her over to one of the SHIELD cars and taking a set of keys out of his pocket.
“In my first battle, I lost half my squad, then the other half got captured. I know for a fact your husband lost most of his friends in the war too, and you’ve lost a few yourself. He’ll be mourned, and missed, and avenged. And the rest of us will survive.” What she wouldn’t give for some Slavic stoicism of her own.
“How are the kids holding up? This is probably the first team member they’ve ever lost.”
“Kids? You’re not even forty. Are you forty?” Daisy elbowed him, and Yossi feigned hurt with a grin in his eyes.
“You know what I mean.” The lightheartedness disappeared, and his shoulders slumped.
“About as well as you’d expect. Hanna’s trying not to show that she misses him, but she’s only just learned how to have friends at all. The Red Room messed that poor girl up. For the rest of them… it’s not easy. They could use you. Especially with the week we’re about to have.”
“It’s not like I was going to leave without at least saying goodbye. We’re taking the same plane back.”
“A short speech wouldn’t be a bad thing, right now.”
“Got it. Where are they? I haven’t seen anyone for a bit.”
“Jim is with Carter, the rest are waiting at the airfield, they’re sending us back to the Playground. I can drive.”
“Daniel-”
“Will be there not long after we arrive.” Sighing, Daisy got in the passenger side of the car, and Yossi started the engine, pulling away from the curb. “So. Khanele and Natalie?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows. She was pretty sure Khanele was supposed to be Hanna, so Daisy laughed in spite of herself. She was always surprised at the pockets of acceptance she found in the past.
“If they don’t figure it out in the next couple months, I’ll assign them to as many missions as possible with just the two of them, and if that doesn’t work, I’ll lock them in a room together.”
“I agree. It will be… complicated, but they deserve it.”
After a few minutes of silence as they left downtown Dallas, Daisy finally voiced the question that had been bothering her for months.
“We’ve been fighting HYDRA for eight years , and haven’t even moved above ground yet. It’s just getting started, isn’t it?”
“You’d know better than me, but yes. This is going to take a while.”
“Do you mind if I ask what keeps you going? You seem… resigned, if nothing else.” Yossi chuckled to himself, thinking the question over before he responded. Daisy could see a vicious glint in his eyes that hadn’t been there since he’d broken Reinhardt’s nose all those years ago.
“I suppose righteous fury is the best word for it. I hate HYDRA, and I don’t want others to suffer as I did.”
“You’re supposed to say ‘I love more than they hate’, or ‘to protect humanity’ or something cheesy like that. Maybe ‘my faith demands it’, if you’re feeling pious. My friend Matt would’ve said that.” She missed Matt, more than she expected to.
“We’re spies. We don’t have to pretend to be good people, like politicians do. We either are good or we aren’t, and we do what has to be done to make the world a bit better. You’re a good person, I am not. I’ve made my peace with that. And I haven’t felt pious in twenty-five years, your friend Matt is more optimistic than I.”
“If I’m a good person, then so are you. We’ve both done messy things for the right reasons.”
“Maybe. But only one of us is a national hero now,” he pointed out.
“I’m not a national hero. Back in my time, I was basically Public Enemy #1 for a while.”
“I believe it. You have the wanted poster glare down already. But you did just single-handedly capture the Super Soldier who killed the President.” Daisy graced him with her best wanted poster glare, but since Friedman’s eyes were on the road like a responsible person, he didn’t notice.
“It’ll all be swept under the rug, and our names will stay out of it. Maybe a SHIELD hero, definitely not a national one. And apparently I was already a SHIELD hero.”
“If it were up to that husband of yours they’d throw you a parade.”
“Daniel would throw me a parade for breathing, he doesn’t count.” Her wonderful husband was, if nothing else, a dork.
“That is true. I can’t help but agree with Thompson sometimes, you two are disgusting.”
“You’re single, Friedman, you don’t get to talk.”
“I’ve never had any interest in… all that. There are more important things in life.” Daisy raised an eyebrow at that information. That explained quite a bit.
“Like killing Nazis?”
“Like killing Nazis, yes. You would make a good Jew, Agent Johnson.” She supposed that was a compliment? Coming from a Jew, it definitely was.
“The nuns that raised me would hate to hear that,” she joked.
“That’s their problem, they aren’t even born yet. You kvetch and brood far more than is healthy, and have devoted your life to killing Nazis. Nakam , in the spirit of Kovner, and far more successful. Even an apikoyres like me can tell, you’d make an excellent ger .”
“I understood about half of those words.”
“Small victories. I’ll take it.”
They would need all the victories they could get. When they finally reached their destination, with the sun setting over the airfield, Daisy accepted that the war was just beginning.
Chapter 22
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
November 23, 1963
The Soldier could do nothing but wait. He had succeeded in his mission, but allowing himself to be captured was against protocol. He was supposed to eliminate all loose ends, including himself- but something stopped him. There was something familiar about all this, even though he was in prison. He couldn’t quite figure out what, but he felt like he was at home. That couldn’t be true, though. He was the Winter Soldier. He had no home. He had a mission, and his mission was complete, so now he had to return to base. That meant escape. With the trained calm of the elite commando he was, the Soldier surveyed his surroundings. A barren steel cell, no windows or visible door, reinforced cuffs on ankles and wrists binding him to a sturdy chair, and some sort of EMP device must be disabling his arm, since he couldn’t move it. The red star on his arm’s shoulder had been removed. His head was throbbing and his vision blurry, but that was rapidly fading. Moderate concussion. He could not see the bruise on his chest below his prisoner’s garb, but he could feel the cracked ribs knitting themselves back together. The woman who had defeated him was the largest threat, the Soldier wouldn’t be able to escape until he defeated her and her unique abilities. By his best estimation, he had been in this cell for twelve hours, including the time he’d been unconscious. No one had come in since he’d regained consciousness, no food had been delivered. He had been stripped of all his weapons, and there was no furniture but the chair he was cuffed to and a niche in one wall that could serve as a cot. The plastic chamber pot didn’t count. The lights were dim, which was for the best. His eyes stung and head pounded whenever he cast his gaze upwards. Whoever had imprisoned him had anticipated his concussion and sought to make him more comfortable- or just disoriented. These people were good at their jobs, but the Soldier was better. He had a mission to complete.
Without warning, an image flashed behind his eyes: a black, armored train, streaking through snow-covered mountains. A group of men preparing to attack it. They seemed familiar, especially the one in the red, white, and blue garb. Blond hair, blue eyes, easy smile. He felt… connected to this man. But the Soldier shoved this image aside. He did not recognize it, and it was not important. Escape and return to base was the only objective. He spent some unknown period of time just waiting, letting the dull throbbing in his skull fade and his vision return to normal. A glance at his right hand showed that the cuffs weren’t tight enough to prevent him from dislocating his thumb and extricating his arm, but that wouldn’t do any good with his metal arm disabled as well, he’d still be stuck. Something to consider, then, once he had some other advantage.
After more time passed- though he had no way of telling how much with no windows or visitors- the door to his cell finally opened. A nondescript part of the wall directly across from him pulled back, then was slid to the side. Six people entered, and he quickly analyzed each of them. Their obvious leader- female, early forties, white, sharply dressed, bright red lipstick, unarmed. Two guards, both with covered faces, SHIELD uniforms, and rifles, hanging back by the door. Three men, standing in a line with the woman. They all seemed about the same age, same bearing- all had obvious combat experience, but were unarmed. The four of them stood as friends did, leaning slightly towards each other, clearly relying on one another for support. They obviously feared what the Soldier might do to them. They were correct to. Despite that assumption, the looks in their eyes didn’t display fear, but desperate hope. One man- the only white one among them, graying blond, handlebar moustache, bowler hat, military greens- had tears threatening to spill over from his eyes. The two others: one short but heavyset Asian, dour expression, civilian clothes, and one Black man in glasses and a suit. Examining their faces, the Soldier felt something tingling at the back of his skull. All of these men had been on that snow-capped cliff, with the train. The white one had stood at the edge of the cliff, while the Black and Asian ones hunkered over a radio. They’d been younger, but it was unmistakably them. He felt like he should know their names- something was so familiar . Why did the Soldier feel like he was at home?
“Where are the others?” He heard himself asking, not sure why he did. He spoke English instead of Russian, the language his Handler had used when he gave him this mission. The Soldier knew he spoke both languages, and he knew Russian was supposed to be his primary language. It was mixed up in his mind with all the other things he just knew , despite having no memory of how he’d learned it. He knew how to fight and skill. He knew to serve HYDRA and the Soviet Union. He knew he was a weapon. Why did English feel more natural? Moustache blinked at him in surprise, before speaking tentatively.
“What others?”
“The British and French ones. And the man with the shield. He’s important. There was a cliff, a train, a cable. Snowy mountains. We know each other. We had a mission.” Saying it felt right somehow. More images appeared: the Black man kneeling atop the train as it moved, the red-white-and-blue one climbing down its side. Waiting in a vestibule with the shielded one. Then… “I fell.” The man reached for the Soldier, hanging off the side of the train, even as the mountains grew smaller and the ground rushed up to meet him.
The woman burst into tears, the moustached man wiped at his eyes, and the other two hugged. All were smiling. The woman spoke for the group of friends- he was sure they were friends, now. Maybe they were even his friends once. Before. He wasn’t supposed to have a before. No, he had a mission. He’d completed his objective, but these people were witnesses at best and enemies of HYDRA at the worst. He would have to kill them.
“The concussion must have helped kick-start some memories, all the data we have indicated that it would. I’m sorry I ordered Commander Sousa to hit you in the head, but I’m glad it worked. Your name is James Buchanan Barnes, but you go by Bucky. You’re free now. We’re here to help you.” Bucky Barnes . The name rang in his ears- or maybe that was just the concussion.
“You call me free while locking me in prison.” Even to the Soldier, the snarled words rang hollow, something he was supposed to say rather than what he meant. He felt free, even trapped in a box. His interrogators deftly ignored him.
“Do you remember our names?” The one with the moustache asked. The Soldier’s first instinct was to dismiss the question out of hand, but something was gnawing at him, telling him yes, he did know. He looked at the man’s face for a minute, until a memory of a different prison cell wafted to the front of his awareness.
“You’re Dum-Dum.” His toothy grin showed the Soldier that he was correct. “And you’re- Peggy. You’re Gabe, and you’re Jim.” They were all smiling now, but something was missing. Someone was missing. The Brit and the Frenchman? No- they were missing, but not what he was thinking of. The blond man from the train? The star-spangled one? Star spangled … why did he phrase it like that? “What was his name?” The woman- Peggy - blinked back more tears.
“His name was Steve.” Steve Rogers. That was it…
“I loved him,” the Soldier stated emphatically. He was a soldier. The Soldier. He wasn’t supposed to love. He was the fist of HYDRA. Another image flashed behind his eyes- a slimy-looking man with big glasses telling him that that’s what he was, while the Soldier was strapped to a table, missing his arm.
“We all did,” Dugan whispered. But no, that felt wrong. The Soldier somehow knew it was different for him, but he didn’t have the words to describe how. It didn’t matter anyway, he had bigger problems. Where did he go from here? Could he kill people who had once been his friends? He’d killed two people on this mission already; a SHIELD agent and the President. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that, or about killing this group that used to know him. The Soldier had no friends, but Bucky Barnes did. He needed to escape, but didn’t want to anymore. “We have something for you, Bucky. We got in touch with your sister- you can see her once you’ve healed, your treatments start this afternoon- anyway, she kept your dog tags. From the war. You didn’t have them with you on the train, since it was technically black ops. Anyway, I’m rambling. You’ll get them soon.” The Soldier didn’t acknowledge anything that Dum-Dum said, although a mention of his sister brought to mind an image of a young woman with long brown hair, bright blue eyes, and a warm smile. Rebecca, his brain supplied. But the Soldier was still focused on the faint memories of Steve.
“What happened to him?”
“He’s trapped. Frozen in the ice under Greenland. We won’t be able to rescue him for decades. He sacrificed himself to save millions.” The Soldier could hear the heartbreak in Peggy’s voice, and her simple piece of information shattered his heart as effectively as a bullet would have. If these slightest scraps of memory could make him feel so intensely, how much had he forgotten? Who was he, really?
“If I do these… treatments, I’ll remember more?”
“Yes. We have all the research from the people who brainwashed you. We know how to undo the damage they did, we’ve done the same thing for freed Widows before. It will take time. It will not be easy, fun, or painless. But we can restore you to yourself, Bucky,” Peggy explained. He could handle pain. He was a Soldier, no matter his name. Once he knew more, he could decide what to do. How to escape, if he still wanted to.
“He’d do it for me. He’d be… he’d be with me till the end of the line.” He could tell the words he was reciting were a quote, but he couldn’t remember where he’d heard it. Or where he’d said it. Jim- apparently the bravest among them- stepped forward and laid a hand on the Soldier’s flesh shoulder. The Soldier flinched back from the touch. Since he was bound to a chair, he didn’t move much, though it was enough for Jim to pull back. Touch was how you killed or were killed. There was no other purpose to it. Why did this touch feel warm and reassuring? Why did he want to wrap all of these people in a hug, and sob until his eyes hurt? The Soldier hated himself for flinching, and costing himself that tiny piece of kind human contact. His brow must have furrowed in anger, because Jim raised his hands in a display of harmlessness. The Soldier was glad that he didn’t step away, at least.
“We all would. We all will. Whatever they did to you, whatever you’ve done. That wasn’t you, they fucked with your head. You saved my life back in the war, Bucky. All our lives, every day, for a year. Even before that, you saved our asses in that prison. We owe you a debt we never thought we’d get to pay back.” Gabe nodded his agreement, and stepped forward as well.
“Let us start to.”
“I… I killed one of your agents today. And shot another.”
“You didn’t. HYDRA did. And they’ll pay, while you heal,” Peggy declared. And somehow, the Soldier could tell she actually believed it. The Soldier found he could do nothing but nod, overwhelmed at the display. After the guards brought him food, they left him alone with his thoughts and jumbled, foggy memories, and he tried not to cry for all he’d lost. His life had been stripped from him, he could remember that much at least. He wasn’t the person who these people remembered, but he certainly wasn’t the Winter Soldier either. That identity had been forced on him. Bucky Barnes had been killed, but maybe, with time, he could learn to be himself again. Whoever that might be.
-
Most days, May did not regret retiring from fieldwork. She was getting much too old for that shit, and she’d been considering it even before travelling to the past. Ever since SHIELD fell, she’d been in leadership positions and constantly managing politics. May hated politics. She really hated 1960s politics, run by half-mad Chester Phillips and smarmy John Flynn. Maybe they were smart, capable men once. Not anymore. Now, they were just royal pains in the ass of May and her family. She rarely saw Flynn- apparently he and Peggy deeply hated each other, and so he was often kept in DC when she was in New York and vice versa- but he’d decided to attend this meeting, while Stark was absent. May hated to admit that she’d grown to like the batshit crazy scientist, and having him replaced with a bigoted, incompetent toad was not a pleasant surprise. Although this meeting served as both debrief and war council, the last get-together of SHIELD’s top brass as well as Hercules and STRIKE’s leadership before all-out war was declared.
Today, May regretted retiring from fieldwork. Daisy had just defeated the most dangerous assassin in history, and was recovering from a few minor wounds besides, but May, her family, and her least favorite people were stuck in one room together. Again. She wasn’t even sure if her frustration with the politics was Daisy’s or her own at this point, not that it mattered. Her daughter, in the chair next to her, was fidgeting relentlessly with the bandage on her arm, while on Daisy’s other side Daniel half-listened to Flynn’s ramblings. His worried eyes darted over to his wife’s wound every few seconds, much to Daisy’s annoyance. Peggy Carter, Jack Thompson, and Phillips- the meeting’s other attendees- all looked and felt relatively calm, but she could sense that Carter was stewing with hate for her old boss. May tore her attention from her companions, tuning back in to Flynn’s spiel. That man really loved to hear himself talk, they’d finalized the plans hours ago. Of course, Daisy’s incredibly impressive defeat of the Winter Soldier had barely gotten a mention, but the already-enacted plans Flynn had barely had a hand in creating were discussed at length.
“The President is demanding heads on spikes, and so now it’s our job to hand over everyone we possibly can. Half of Washington’s breathing down my neck about the assassin we captured, and the only reason we’ve still got custody is I managed to convince them that we can unravel the whole web if they give us a couple days. Tell me I wasn’t lying, Thompson?” Peggy bristled at being passed over, despite being the boss of almost everyone in the room besides Phillips himself (and Daisy, to her chagrin). Luckily, Jack seemed to have an answer ready. May both felt and observed the confidence that could only come from being raised a rich white man in prewar America. She had no idea how Carter or Daniel tolerated the man.
“The extent to which all this got shoved aside… it’s an unprecedented cover-up. Three months of ignored warnings? Unheard of. So I asked around, reached out to some of my old FBI contacts who suddenly were taking my calls again after three months in the dark. Turns out, our buddy Hoover called in every favor, piece of blackmail, and dirty trick he could. Add in some other HYDRA agents and the occasional murder…”
“Wait, other HYDRA agents?” Flynn asked incredulously. He seemed too slow to put together the puzzle that everyone else had figured out silently, like the grown adults they were. Thompson, thankful for the opportunity for drama, spread his arms wide and smiled grimly.
“Yup, the director of the FBI is HYDRA.” Silence followed Jack’s proclamation.
“Honestly, I can’t say I’m surprised.” They couldn’t tell Flynn their rationale, but May agreed with her daughter. J Edgar Hoover was a truly despicable person, responsible for a sizable chunk of the US government’s overreaches from the fifties to the seventies. If there were any historical figures she could easily believe were HYDRA, he was top of the list. The country would be a better place with him locked away in a SHIELD prison. Phillips, however, felt completely unbothered by thus shocking revelation.
“What Hoover didn’t plan for is that I’ve known our new president for ten years,” he began.
“And you didn’t think to mention this earlier?” Daisy asked. She made an excellent point- although that might’ve been the frustration May was picking up talking. The Director waved a hand dismissively, not even looking in her direction.
“He didn’t have the clearance earlier. Now he does. I can cut through all the red tape.” A glint in his eye that reminded May eerily of how pyromaniacs looked at fire appeared, and Phillips talked for several minutes about how they could quickly and easily inform who needed to be informed in Washington, avoiding or capturing HYDRA personnel along the way. Everyone else in the room just stared, trying to fathom what they’d just heard. As she so often did, Daisy voiced what everyone else was too afraid to say.
“Are you insane? All this could’ve been avoided?” May could feel the hurt and betrayal rolling off the woman she’d come to see long ago as her daughter, and immediately knew the source. She’d lost an agent, Keith Gallagher, to the Winter Soldier. If they’d had a better plan in place, maybe his life could’ve been saved. By all accounts, Daisy had single-handedly defeated one of the most dangerous people on the planet. She should’ve had had to do that. May noticed Daniel squeezing his wife’s hand, but her grief dulled only slightly, joined rather than replaced by a dull warmth that mirrored Daniel’s own love.
“No, it couldn’t have. We did all we could,” Flynn stated. Had he known about this and done nothing too?
“Are you sure?” Carter asked calmly.
“I’m sure, goddamn it! The new President is demanding heads on pikes. We can give him what he wants now, we couldn’t before. We’ve been preparing for this for months, the plans haven’t changed. Carter, get that information out of Barnes. And it’s your anniversary tomorrow, isn’t it?” As his demeanor and line of questioning shifted, so too did his emotional state. May could feel the Director’s anger change to fatherly care when he spoke to Peggy. May sometimes forgot the woman was a wife and a mother of two. To Sousa’s credit, he didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the mention of his replacement. May would’ve slapped him if he did.
“Yes sir.”
“Congratulations, take the day off. Say hi to the husband and kids for me. Then get the information.” May felt Carter’s surprise at the allotment alongside everyone else’s righteous anger- and Flynn’s petty jealousy. Time off? During a moment this pivotal? Seriously?
“What?” Her daughter asked quietly, voice brimming with surprise and rage. Sometimes, despite all the years that had passed, Daisy was still indistinguishable from the brash, blustering girl who Ward and Coulson had kidnapped out of her van. May loved her for it, after too many years of trying not to. Even Peggy nodded her agreement, and May seriously doubted she’d be taking the offer.
“Shut up, Sousa. Wen. Whatever your name is.” May could feel the disgust behind every word from Phillips’ mouth, and it was awful. She could’ve punched him, but the swirl of anger from Daniel and Daisy was enough to make her too nauseous to stand. Even so, May was sure much of what she felt came from within. The man was an asshole, yes, but she sometimes forgot just how awful he really was. She was distracted moments later by a flash of agony and confusion from the Director. He rubbed at his head, grimacing in pain. Was he just irritable from a headache? That seemed childish at best. “Barnes needs another day for those treatments anyway, right? In the meantime, your team needs to be ready,” the Director justified.
“We already are,” Daisy declared through gritted teeth. Phillips rolled his eyes, and Daniel’s anger slammed into her like a truck. He seemed about to stand, and was opening his mouth to argue, but a look from his wife silenced him. He’d already gotten himself in deep shit for standing up for May’s daughter once. She could sense that Daisy didn’t want it to happen again.
“We’ll see. We move next week, as discussed. And, Sousa? No, not you. Daniel, the original Sousa. Don’t ever pull a goddamn stunt like that again. We are officers of the law, in case you’d forgotten. Don’t punch cops because your feelings got hurt. No one forced you to marry her. I’d throw you out on your ass if I thought you’d be able to stand up on your own.” May was absolutely certain that it was only a placating look from Carter that stopped her daughter from murdering Phillips then and there, and her own fingers were itching for blood. She would’ve broken the asshole’s jaw too. May really, really hated the past. Flynn was leaning back in his chair, smiling thinly at her family’s anger. The man could smell promotions like a bloodhound, and Sousa was clearly no longer the favorite to succeed Carter when she inevitably became director.
“Understood,” was all Daniel said, but the look in his eyes was scary enough to wipe the smile off Flynn’s face. He was pissed, and heartbroken, but doing an excellent job of hiding it. Daisy was literally shaking with anger now, the air itself seeming furious. Phillips didn’t even seem to notice, even though the blood had drained from Flynn’s face, Jack and Peggy were checking the exits, and a picture frame was slowly tilting to the side on the wall. Flynn didn’t even know about Daisy’s powers, but he had to suspect by now. Either way, he was terrified of the freak earthquake. May laid a hand on Daisy’s knee under the table, trying to remind her to wait. She had to control her emotions, before the whole base came down on their heads. They’d be able to give Phillips what he deserved later. Carter had privately told her that the Director was planning on retiring soon, and he was getting old. He’d be gone, one way or another, and Peggy would be in charge. She’d no doubt make Sousa her Deputy, and her family wouldn’t have to worry about their bosses’ cruelty any more. May could only hope that Daniel hadn’t thrown away an opportunity for promotion by punching that cop. It certainly sounded like Phillips didn’t want him to rise any higher in the ranks, but when it came down to it, it would be Peggy’s choice. Thankfully, the shaking stopped, and Phillips turned his attention back to Sousa.
“Congratulations, you’ll be the new Head of Defense as soon as we deal with Malick. Not my choice, but you’ve been groomed for it for too long. There’s no one else who could do it. All three of you are getting honors for your role in this, and there might be some minor events you’ll have to attend as well. Shaking hands and all that. Now, all three of you, out. The rest of us need to talk.”
Daisy stood so fast her chair fell over, before helping her husband out of his seat. They both made for the door, May right on their heels, when Flynn’s voice called for behind them.
“Louise, can you bring Agent Friedman to STRIKE’s usual briefing room? I’ll meet you both there in half an hour for a more in depth debrief. Don’t be late.” The woman gave a curt nod instead of a middle finger, and visibly relaxed as soon as the family was in the hallway, door closed behind them. May let the two younger agents mutter and ramble about how awful Flynn and Phillips were, soothing each other and venting in equal measure. Both were willing to kill to defend the other’s honor but unwilling to stand up for themselves, and May considered pointing out as much before deciding better of it. At least her girl had someone in her corner.
After the couple had both gotten their frustrations out of their system, the three of them found themselves outside STRIKE’s briefing room, where neither May nor Daniel had cause to be. Daisy looked between them for a moment, then sighed deeply.
“I’ll catch up with you both later. I need to make a call before the briefing.” May understood instantly. Agent Gallagher’s parents hadn’t been informed yet, and those phone calls never got any easier. Daisy accepted hugs from both her husband (along with a brief kiss) and her mother (with a kiss to the forehead instead) before leaving to go find a phone. May would’ve been amused at the millennial being forced to use a landline if it wasn’t for the circumstances. Once she was gone, May and her son-in-law exchanged a lingering, worried look. Loving Daisy Johnson meant being deeply concerned for her well being 24/7, and this was no exception. Daniel’s own worry for his wife threatened to completely bury the endemic concern May felt for him. As selfless as they both were, each had completely ignored the brutal insults they’d suffered, caring only for their spouse.
Daniel set his jaw and cocked his head in the vague direction of both their offices. May nodded, and they set off together. She appreciated not having to speak to make herself understood. After a minute of walking together though, she felt a wave of knotted emotions from him, and he stopped to lean against his cane, free hand on a wall. May stopped when Daniel did, raising an eyebrow.
“You good?” He gritted his teeth and nodded before biting out a reply.
“I’m alright, May. Just walked a bit too fast.” They both knew he was lying, but he gave it a good shot.
“Not what I asked. Your leg is fine and you know it, you’re pissed about how they treat her. Not to mention they chewed you out for doing the right thing, and simultaneously threw you into the spotlight.” Daniel resumed walking, but his anger was more visible on his face now; not that it made any difference to May. Even the few people who knew she was an empath couldn’t quite break the habit of trying to shove their emotions to the side. People were stupid.
“Yeah, well, wouldn’t be the first time. On either count. I’ll live. As for Daisy? You and I are going to make Flynn and Phillips wish they’d never been born. I’ll figure out how once we’ve dealt with HYDRA.” May had an eerie feeling she’d be having a mirror of this conversation with Daisy later on. For both of them, she’d make the assholes miserable.
“Still glad you punched that cop? Some of this could’ve been avoided.”
“No regrets.” He grinned, displaying the bruised knuckles where his fist had connected with the racist shitstain’s jaw. “But seriously, it doesn’t bother me.”
“You know I can sense when you’re lying, right?”
“Just what every guy dreams of. A mother-in-law he can’t bullshit,” Daniel grumbled. May barked out a laugh, startling the man and several passing agents, who immediately looked away when she glared at them. Once they’d reached an empty part of the hallway, May replied.
“Your problems are none of my business, but I know there’s something you want to tell me.” Sousa sighed in defeat, before finally getting to the point that May could sense he’d been dancing around.
“I’ve been meaning to thank you.” That wasn’t at all what she’d expected to hear.
“What for?”
“Saving my life.”
“That was a long time ago, Sousa.”
“Not to me. You and Daisy saved me, and SHIELD.” He paused, at a loss for words.” This is… everything. We’re finally doing it, rooting out the squids. If I’d been left to my own devices, I’d have taken two in the back and failed, and gotten a lot of people killed, because I trusted the wrong man. What the three of us have done is everything I’d hoped to accomplish. And I never would’ve done it without you. Those idiots back there? You and Daisy deal with all their bullshit and save the world, even when they try as hard as they can to get in your way. And you saved my life, even when I ran straight into danger after Coulson told me not to.” His gratitude was staggering, but May had learned years ago how to control her responses to other people’s emotions.
“I’m just doing my job.”
“Is it your job to adopt your trainee?” He asked with a sly grin.
“Daisy’s always meant a lot to me. It took losing my emotions to realize just how much. Before, I pretended to myself so I wouldn't have to face the facts and get too attached.”
“You’re proving my point. If I ended up stuck in the past I’d probably go wait in a cave for my team to show up, not go save the world. You two got stuck here because of me- to save the life of a stranger who you’d only met while locking him up in his own base, and dealt with all sorts of other shit along the way.”
“I don’t think you qualify as a stranger, Sousa.”
“I did ten years ago. Just let me give you my gratitude and a compliment, will you? Most mothers would be grateful to have a son-in-law who doesn’t hate them.” Daniel smiled, and May felt the levity behind his dry tone. She smirked in reply.
“I’ve got higher standards for Daisy. I’ll still kill you if you break her heart.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, ma’am.” He stopped walking to salute her dramatically, and May gave him the nod of respect that half of SHIELD would kill for in response. Finally reaching May’s office, the nearer of the two, she set her hand on the doorknob before pausing, and calling out to Daniel, already a few steps down the hall.
“Should we get lunch while we wait for our girl?” May asked. He turned back, still smiling.
“Sounds good.”
November 25, 1963
The Soldier- no, Bucky, he got to think of himself as Bucky- stared blankly at the ceiling of his cell. They’d let him out of the cuffs this morning, when it became clear he wasn’t going to hurt anyone. Not anymore. The treatments had been painful and tedious, but he was starting to remember more, bit by bit. His sister’s face. The look Steve got in his eyes when he’d made up his mind about some stupid, stubborn fight he was gonna pick. He remembered the foods and music he’d used to like, the battles he’d fought with his friends. Bucky knew he rooted for the Yankees, that he was from Brooklyn, that he loved his home and his country. He’d been told his family was still mostly alive, and that he’d be able to see them again soon. His friends coming to visit had helped to jump-start his memories. Dugan, Jones, and Morita told old war stories, and Bucky remembered his place in them. Peggy told him tales Steve had relayed to her about their childhood. Letters were passed along from Farnsworth and Dernier. The agent who he’d fought in Dallas had shown up to tell him that she forgave him for killing a member of her team, and that she knew what it was like to have your mind taken from you. He wasn’t sure what she’d meant, but she had promised to tell him more when he was better. The agent was the only one who hadn’t been afraid of him, and he appreciated it greatly. Bucky suspected it had something to do with the powers she’d displayed during their fight, but had so clearly wanted to keep a secret. He’d chosen to respect those wishes for now. Stark had visited too. His memories of the scientist were vaguer than those of his old team, but it was good to see him. Apparently, his work had been essential to figuring out how to deprogram him. Piece by piece, he had started to put himself back together.
But he remembered the killing too. The SHIELD agent he’d gunned down at Dealey Plaza. The President. Countless American and UN troops during the Korean War. Diplomats and soldiers, spies and scientists. He’d even gone up against friends of his a few years ago, when he’d stolen an 0-8-4 for HYDRA, and he remembered now that his handlers tortured him and wiped his memory again for failing to kill Carter and Dugan that day. There had been so, so much killing. The Winter Soldier had spent the better part of twenty years carving a bloody path through HYDRA’s enemies across the globe. Even spending most of that in cryofreeze hadn’t dulled the memories. He took some very small comfort in the fact that those days were behind him. He wasn’t free yet, but one day he would be. He’d never have to kill again.
He still wanted, more than anything, to comply . He knew part of him was still the Soldier, still HYDRA’s fist. He still thought in Russian, not English. If someone said his words to him, he’d go right back to being the Soldier. He’d forget all over again. So, in fits and starts, he took himself back, and shoved aside the drive to be the Soldier. The red star on his arm had already been scrubbed off. He’d been given blankets and the heat had been turned up when Peggy realized he hated the cold. Bucky didn’t know how to tell her that he didn’t really mind being cold, the serum let him survive much lower temperatures than humans. He hated the bone-deep cold of the cryochamber, the blankness that accompanied it in his memories. But the blankets drove the memories away, so he didn’t complain. He’d learned how to remove his arm- apparently SHIELD had the schematics- and he was told he’d be able to customize and even decorate it soon. He’d started to imagine a complicated painting that could cover the whole thing like a tattoo sleeve, with Steve’s shield on his shoulder, where the red star used to be. One day, he’d paint it. If only he’d had Steve’s skill with sketching.
Jim had cut his hair for him, at his request. They’d had to put a few guards in the cell while scissors were involved, but when he looked in the mirror now, he saw James Barnes, not the Winter Soldier. Even if his eyes were more hollow than they were in the old photographs he’d been shown, his cheeks more sunken, and his vision sharp enough to pick out any number of tiny flaws, he’d only aged a couple of years. Rebecca would still recognize him. So would his parents. Learning that his family was still alive had been a relief, and getting to see them again was just one more reason to get better quickly. Not that Bucky had had a shortage of those.
After far too long alone with his thoughts, Peggy finally came to visit again. This time, she was all business, sitting down with a legal pad and a pen. He mirrored her demeanor, standing at attention against the wall. When she looked at him with heartbroken eyes and gestured to the chair in front of her, he sat down as well.
“Bucky? Are you ready to talk?”
“Yeah, Peg, I’m ready. What do you need to know?”
“Everything. Let’s start with current bases, and the names of your most recent handlers and targets. Then we can talk about previous operations of yours, if you’re up to it.”
“I’m up for it. I’ve done enough damage, it’ll be good to undo some of it.”
“Good. Then let’s get started. What can you tell me about Wilfred Malick, Arnim Zola, And J. Edgar Hoover?” He grimaced, too many bad memories to count flooding through his head.
“A lot. For starters…”
Notes:
Apparently, I'm incapable of writing AOS fics without throwing Bucky in somehow. I'm also still too lazy to give Peggy's husband and kids names.
There might not be a chapter next week- between Yom Kippur and midterms I haven't got much time to spare, and I've only got a small chunk of it prewritten. I'll definitely be back by the 25th though!
Comments and Kudos make me very happy!
Chapter 23
Notes:
I'm posting on Thursday instead of Friday to make up for skipping last week lmao. Also, apologies for how short this one is, but I couldn't quite fit in the first scenes of the next chapter. I also think this is the first chapter without Daniel or May? Could be wrong though
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
November 27, 1963
Excerpt from a speech given by President Lyndon B. Johnson before a Joint Session of Congress.
“...the other assassin that killed our great President, my friend, has been identified. In the wake of the FBI’s failure, and SHIELD’s quick action, a team of SHIELD agents took into custody one of the two men who fired on President Kennedy’s motorcade. One assassin, Lee Harvey Oswald, has already been killed by a vigilante. The other was sent by an old enemy to destabilize the United States, and make the world a worse place. I’m sorry to say they succeeded, but we will not allow them to get away with this crime.
“For the past few years, SHIELD has been aware of an infestation in our country, and in many others. Their brave men and women have been working, behind the scenes, to map the extent of the infiltration into our democracy, our government agencies, and our military, so that when the time was right these traitors could be brought to justice. I’m sorry to report that HYDRA, the Nazi deep science division defeated by Captain America near the end of World War II, was not destroyed with the death of the Red Skull. HYDRA is alive and well, but will not be for long. When SHIELD discovered that HYDRA had implanted sleeper agents in their midst after the War, they immediately began working to combat them, and have largely been successful. It is thanks to their heroism that, as I speak, members of HYDRA across the country, and throughout allied nations, are being brought to justice by authorities. These operations began this morning and are expected to continue for some time. SHIELD agents, leaders in the corporate world, military officials, even some members of this Congress are affiliated with that wretched organization. You know who you are, and now, the world will too. I fought the Nazis during the war, and I will fight them now, wherever they may be! I know this information is stunning, but the DOJ and SHIELD will release corroborating documents to the public. The FBI will not be directly involved, as Director Hoover has been implicated as well. This case has been in the works for many years, with the full knowledge and cooperation of several Presidents. I only regret that HYDRA could not be stopped sooner. The war against them has now moved from the shadows to the streets, but we will hunt these traitors and killers to the ends of the Earth.
“The reason we can win now, when we could not before, is because of the assassin that was taken into custody in Dallas. The United States can prove that HYDRA has been collaborating with a faction of the Soviet Government and Red Army to create a weapon for the USSR. They called this weapon the Winter Soldier, because he was a man, not a machine. Forcibly injected with super soldier serum and brainwashed to do HYDRA’s bidding, they tore this man’s life from him. Wiped his memories and used a perversion of science to brainwash him into obeying their orders. Kept him frozen in stasis when he wasn’t being tortured, experimented on, or sent to kill people against his will. SHIELD has managed to begin to free the assassin from the prison HYDRA built within his own mind. Before that, he was James Buchanan Barnes, a Howling Commando, and Captain America’s best friend. Sergeant Barnes was a hero to this country, declared MIA during World War II. We now know that HYDRA captured him and made him into something he is not. I am prepared to pardon Sergeant Barnes for his actions while under HYDRA’s control. He had no willing part in those crimes, including the death of President Kennedy. The intelligence he has already started to deliver is essential to wiping out the people who truly masterminded them. Who turned a great American hero into a puppet. Sergeant Barnes has been a prisoner of war for nearly twenty years. He deserves to come home. To rejoin the organization built on his and Captain Rogers’ legacy, if he so chooses. To make up for the things he did when he did not control his own mind. To be brainwashed in such a way is not a fate I would wish on my worst enemy, let alone a great man who so many Americans owe their lives to. I am only thankful that SHIELD is able to undo such a detestable thing. I understand this may be a controversial decision, but it is one I will stand by, provided that he continues to deliver actionable intelligence and make the right decisions now that he has the freedom to. HYDRA will be shown no mercy, but Sergeant Barnes is a victim of HYDRA, not a member of it.
“To Premier Krushchev: my demands are simple. Purge the Nazi infestation from your country and the Eastern Bloc, just as we are purging it from the West. Prove to America that you did not order her President’s death, and that you will help bring to justice the people who did. If the Soviet Union cannot take action against HYDRA, then the United States will do what it must to ensure that President Kennedy’s murderers do not get away with their crimes. John Kennedy was a man of peace. Do not soil his legacy by starting a war. NATO and the Warsaw Pact can work together, as we did twenty years ago, to defeat the Nazis that plague us both. We have a common enemy, which would like nothing more than to turn us against each other. Don’t let them win, Mr. Krushchev.
“In the coming days…”
-
Fucking finally . Eight years later, and Daisy was back at Malick’s mansion, finally arresting the piece of shit. Three Quinjets were already circling the skies, guns trained on the quiet manor below, while vans full of STRIKE’s agents rammed through the front gates. Across this country and several others, as the President announced HYDRA’s survival to the world, Daisy’s friends and family were arresting the HYDRA agents they’d spent almost a decade identifying. Despite the fact her left arm was in a sling, Daisy had volunteered to take Malick in herself. She knew Daniel wanted to be the one to bring in his former boss, but her husband was needed in the West Coast offices he’d once been in charge of. She could feel the rapid, excited heartbeats of her team as they leapt from the vans before they even had fully stopped, quickly swarming to surround the mansion. Daisy was the first to hit the ground, wielding a pistol in her uninjured hand.
“You three, sweep the basement. There’s a hidden room. Everyone else, fan out. He’s here somewhere. Be careful of traps. I want everyone in the house in custody, I don’t care who they are. They’re all getting interrogated.”
Her team, all aggrieved at the loss of their comrade, and newly fearful of the Stark-made gauntlets they believed the source of Daisy’s powers, obeyed without question. She had no intention of using her powers except in the most extreme circumstances, but it was good to know she could use them if she absolutely had to. Her old gauntlets were no longer truly needed to protect her bones, but she wore them anyway, for appearances sake, along with her STRIKE-branded tac suit. After a nod from their commander, two of her men slammed a nattering ram into the heavy wooden doors, smashing them open. Daisy was first through the door, only to be greeted by an empty hall. She sensed five people within the house already, the number rapidly growing as her team smashed in through windows. Kicking open the first door she saw, with Takashima and Kanoffsky on her heels, she was met by two children cowering under a dining table table, and a harried-looking woman standing between them and the agents.
Wilfred’s wife was years dead, this had to be a babysitter of some sort. She was unarmed. Daisy raised a hand, and the agents behind her lowered their weapons.
“Gideon. Nathaniel. My name’s Louise, I’m not going to hurt you. Come on out.”
Both boys fearfully clambered out in front of their caretaker, who kept a white-knuckled grip on each shoulder. The slightly older one could only be Gideon, but neither could be older than thirteen. Daisy couldn't help but examine the boy’s features, looking for any sign of the man who she had so brutally killed so far in the future. To her dismay, she found it. He was the same age as her twin nieces, Alice and Beth. Daisy would do anything for those girls, and here she was, staring down children younger than they were, one of whom she’d killed. Nathaniel, the one who Hive had taken, looked scared and confused, while Gideon looked at her with pure hate.
“You’re the bitch Father warned us about.” The woman holding his shoulder gasped at Gideon’s language, but did not scold him while she herself was shaking with fear.
“Freddy told you about me?”
“He said your cripple husband shot him years ago, and you’d try to finish the job. He said to tell you nothing, and that you’d hurt us no matter what we did.” Before she could even begin to formulate a response to that , Yossi and Fernandez rushed into the room.
“Boss. We found him.”
“Where?”
“In an office upstairs.”
“Good work, Yossi. Make sure these three are taken into custody, and treated well. Be gentle with the boys. Joaquin, Nat, Hanna, with me.” Her orders were wordlessly followed, and Fernandez led her to Malick’s upstairs office after a moment. So far, no one had died on either side, and Daisy passed the fifth inhabitant of the mansion being dragged out in handcuffs before she reached the elder Malick. So far, it was an entirely successful mission. Even that fact didn’t stop her stomach from turning when the bearded old man smiled tightly at her. At her signal, the three agents waited just outside the door. No doubt, Malick would say something she didn’t want them to overhear.
“Ah, Mrs. Sousa. What a pleasant surprise.” Daisy could sense something odd under Wilfred Malick’s feet, but it wasn’t anything she was familiar with. She had no desire to find out. Malick crossed his hands in front of him as he stood from behind his desk.
“You knew this was coming, Malick. Surrender.”
“Funny, I remember when you would call me Freddy.”
“I should’ve had Deke kill you then and spared us all the trouble. Daniel’s clearing your friends out of Area 51 and LA. Colonel Stoner has DC under control, and Agent Thompson will have New York secured in hours. We have teams busting down the doors of all your fellow Heads, and your finances are frozen. Your patron is years gone. Even the Soviets are hunting HYDRA down like the rabid dogs you are. Turn yourself in, and your sons won’t have to grow up without a father.”
“You know exactly what that’s like, don’t you? To grow up orphaned. Or are you going to kill my innocent son, the way you did before? The way you tried to kill me in the thirties?” Daisy raised her gun, leveling it between Malick’s eyes. She was so tired of these games. This was so close to being over with.
“Last chance. Kids! Get in here!” A grin spread over the old man’s face, even as three of her team filtered into the room behind her, guns raised.
“Thought you might say that.” With a light tap to the side of his watch, the floor below him lit up a red that it took her too long to recognize. Cursing her foolishness, she pulled the trigger several times, but the Chronicoms’ teleportation disk had already whisked Malick away.
“Ma’am? What was that?” Natalie asked hesitantly from behind her. Cursing her own stupidity in every language she knew, Daisy shoved her gun back into its holster, wincing at the slight pain in her injured arm. She turned around with a sigh before switching back into the role of the confident commander that Takashima, Kanoffsky, and Fernandez needed to see. They all looked scared shitless. None of them had seen teleportation devices before. Daisy gave her best lopsided Coulson grin, and felt both women’s heart rates spike in response. Maybe that smile worked a bit too well.
“Just some alien tech, nothing out of the ordinary. Sweep the room, I want this place on lockdown. No more surprises. We’ve got him on the run now, he can’t hide forever. It’s only a matter of time.”
Notes:
Comments and kudos make me happy!
We're nearing the end of the unofficial part one of this fic! In chapter 31, the Zephyr lands in 1973. The next seven chapters are going to be PACKED plot-wise, with lots of action, drama, dead people, and Daisy getting to let out her many years of repressed anger issues on HYDRA goons. Enjoy!
Chapter 24
Notes:
You may have noticed I've updated the tags and summary to reflect the full extent of this fic, and to be a bit more streamlined. Only a handful of chapters left in Part 1!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
December 16, 1963
Bucky’s weeks in what Dugan had lovingly deemed ‘therapeutic captivity’ had been oddly enjoyable, even with the daily torment of the treatments SHIELD had cooked up. As his memories both of HYDRA and his own life slowly began to return, he’d been allowed more and more freedoms. Bucky had been given his old dog tags, and a few photos: one of his old team (he refused to call them the Howling Commandos, that was a stupid-ass name), one of his family, and one of Steve. Howard had spent a couple days visiting over the last month or so. He seemed to have mellowed out over the decades, but was still a bit of a schmuck. Still, he was able to help Bucky put some of the pieces of his memories back together, and even figured out from HYDRA files how old he was. Howard estimated that Bucky had spent somewhere around 32-33 years alive, not counting the time he’d been a popsicle. On paper, he was 46. It was a weird dissonance to have, just… missing a decade of your life, and spending another five years carrying out the bidding of the worst people on Earth. His biological age was apparently too weird to begin to figure out, and he’d definitely age at a slower rate than normal. Howard kept muttering about how his test results looked way too much like Steve’s, and took so much blood a normal human probably would’ve passed out. Zola had apparently done a better job of replicating the serum than anyone had realized. Hopefully, his aging would be slow enough that he’d live to see Steve again.
He’d gotten to call Rebecca last week, and his parents yesterday. Those calls had made him cry. Learning that they forgave him, that all three were still happy and alive, that he had a niece, that yes, they did want to see him once he was completely deprogramed, had been enough to make him sob. For now, he was bored but content. He’d given up all the intel and tissue samples he possibly could, and wasn’t sure what came next. Once his mind was his own, then what? He didn’t want to fight anymore, Bucky knew that much. But he couldn’t bring himself to sit on the sidelines and let others clean up his mess either. He was a super soldier, with a responsibility to use his powers for good. Besides, he owed it to Steve. He’d never forgive Bucky for sitting on his ass when HYDRA was involved- or when there was any opportunity to do the right thing. God, he missed Steve. He’d spent ten years all but joined at the hip to him, not having his friend around now was the hardest part of the transition to the sixties. If nothing else, at least he didn’t have to see Peggy Carter married to another man. That would’ve devastated him, or maybe… no. That would never have been possible.
Bucky knew he was only alive because SHIELD had bigger fish to fry. He was the triggerman, nothing more, even if he had killed the President. If he hadn’t handed over a dozen major figures in HYDRA, and been a hero to the SSR before his capture, his head would be on a spike in the White House lawn. His pardon was conditional on applying himself to the anti-HYDRA effort, and he’d have to abide by those restrictions. Although maybe he deserved to rot in prison for the rest of his serum-lengthed life. Would that be the best use of his time though, when he could do so much more?
He was still debating his future when an unfamiliar woman stepped into his cell. Mid-thirties, black hair just past her shoulders, dark eyes, olive skin, Central Asian features, SHIELD uniform, unarmed, carrying herself like a trained combatant, eyes scouring her surroundings- no. He didn’t have to do that anymore. Bucky took a deep breath, examining the new arrival like a human being rather than a weapon. To his dismay, he found he made many of the same observations, except to note that she was unfamiliar to him, had a trace of warmth to her analyzing gaze. He’d get better at not categorizing people like they were walking weapons, or like he was a cop rattling off a description for an APB. He had to learn to be a regular person. This woman, however, was clearly like him. Some sort of spy trying not to be as cold as she was taught to be.
“Who the hell are you?”
“My name is Agent Lizaveta Morozova. Carter sent me to help you.” To his surprise, the woman- Lizaveta- had a Russian accent. You didn’t find many of those on a SHIELD base.
“ With what? ” he said in her language. She replied in English.
“Choices. I was a Widow for many years. The Red Room brainwashed me, as HYDRA did to you. I’ve spent the years since gaining my freedom helping to free others from what has been done to us. It is not easy to remember how to be oneself again, as we both have learned. Especially without a life of one’s own to recall. Would you prefer to speak in English or Russian?” Bucky paused to think it over, and tried not to be angry about being given what was basically a shrink.
“English, I think. You’re an Agent of SHIELD now?”
“I am, as are many of my sisters from the Red Room. We have much to atone for. But enough about me. How has your time here been?”
It took nearly an hour of surface-level conversation, questions about his recovery process, and trading backstories before Bucky asked the question that had been bothering him ever since he found out he wasn’t the only one to get his mind scrambled. He wasn’t the only person who’d been turned into a weapon.
“Do you remember them?”
“Every one. You?”
“I do."
"I remember how it felt to enjoy killing them, and the satisfaction of a job well done. It took me years to accept that it was not my fault. It was not yours either.”
“You make it sound so simple.” He muttered.
“Simple? No. It was hard work. It will be for you as well, Sergeant Barnes. But you will do it. Get off your ass and stop moping. There’s work to be done.”
“Are you this rude to everyone?”
“Rude? Do not tell me America has made you soft as those teddy bears they named after you.”
“The what?”
“They have not told you? Bucky Bears are very popular toys for children. Less sell now, but they still exist.”
“No, no one told me,” he said softly. He was a hero, a martyr. Weird to learn about your posthumous honors when you ended up not being dead.
“Hmph. I will fix this. It is a travesty. They’re very adorable.”
“Thank you?”
“You’re welcome. Now, hit me.” Bucky raised an eyebrow, gesturing around his cell with his flesh hand.
“Here?”
“Why not?” She challenged
“Liz, I can break your skull open if I land a punch. I’m not going to hit you.”
“Do not call me Liz , and do not think so little of me as to assume I’ll let you land a blow. Hit me. We are going to spar, and it is going to help you.”
“I’ve never wanted to fight. How is it supposed to help me?”
“By proving that we are not defined by what they made us, Sergeant Barnes. And we can use the skills we were forced to learn for good. Or just for fun. HYDRA, the Red Room. They will always be part of us, but they do not define us.”
“You can call me Bucky, you know.”
“I will not. Bucky sounds like the name of one of those rodents… a beaver, I think? With the big teeth? Although you do resemble one.”
“Ouch.”
“James Buchanan was one of your most incompetent presidents, was he not?”
“Yeah, he was. My parents were weird. Are weird, I guess.” Bucky was grateful that she didn’t draw attention to his slip up, but she did seem to disapprove of the brooding pout that he couldn’t help himself from making. It had been easier to think of himself as having no family for so long that he’d almost forgotten he still did.
“You are also an idiot. James Buchanan is a fitting name.” Bucky sighed, accepting that she was more stubborn than him.
“If I hit you, will you call me Bucky?” The barest hint of a smile curled up one corner of her mouth.
“If you win, I’ll even let you call me Liz.”
Bucky couldn’t bring himself to use the skills he’d learned as the Soldier, or to punch hard enough to get past her defenses, and she knew it. The former Widow won round after round, leaving Bucky bruised and battered, even if it did feel good to exert himself again. He enjoyed the sparring, and the company, or at least thought he did. It was hard to be sure. She left him to his cell when they’d finished, but not before insisting that she would return. They had more work to do before he could be a functioning member of society. Although Lizaveta did not visit again for some time, Bucky woke up the next day to find a teddy bear on his nightstand, and sure enough it had the blue jacket and felt sniper rifle he’d been known for during the war.
January 4, 1964
The first weeks following the public announcement of HYDRA’s survival showed Daisy very quickly that she had no idea what war really was. Eight years of undermining HYDRA in the shadows had kneecapped them, but they were far from dead, and every day since the 27th had been full of brutal combat. Too many good people had died, including two more of her agents. Even the allegedly secure smaller SHIELD bases turned into battlefields. The Soviets viciously dismantled HYDRA’s presence in the Red Army after the President threatened war, causing bloody barrack-to-barrack fighting in the Red Army’s bases. In the States, corporate boardrooms turned into hostage situations, police stations became FOBs for HYDRA, secret bases sprung out of the woodwork, and hundreds of civilians had been killed in a rash of bombings, gunfights, and assassination attempts. It had been clear from the start that SHIELD would win, and everyone knew it, which only made the battles fiercer. J Edgar Hoover’s arrest had shattered the federal law enforcement apparatus, SHIELD were public heroes, Daisy had barely avoided getting on the front page of the Times (though her husband hadn’t been so lucky, he was in the background of a couple of their shots), and Malick and Zola were on the run from SHIELD and the military alike. Despite it all, the chaos and bloodshed weren’t nearly as bad as Daisy remembered from 2014, and for that she was thankful. SHIELD remained strong, there were no helicarriers, and HYDRA was weaker and less numerous. It had taken too long for her to realize that Captain America destroying three helicarriers full of HYDRA personnel had been instrumental in thinning the pool of agents.
Enoch, the Koeings, Jack, and Rick Stoner had all played their parts to perfection. The intelligence and safehouse network set up by the Chronicom, and Ernest Koenig’s kids, had saved dozens of loyal agents in precarious situations. Stoner’s unflinching loyalty to Daniel and SHIELD had led to the DC base being secured with (relatively) little bloodshed. Rose had been placed in charge of Area 51 permanently, and the cornucopia of deadly weapons there were secure.
Daniel, Peggy, and the Commandos all seemed right at home in the new SHIELD. Everyone was thrilled to no longer have to keep Project Hercules hidden, and there were medals and accolades for nearly everyone who’d been involved in it, but the others had all been through war before. On STRIKE, Morita and Friedman were more anxious than she’d ever seen them, constantly snapping at people and efficiently gunning down whatever HYDRA agents were stupid enough to try to do the same to them. Daniel was barely sleeping, and only did so under piles of blankets with Daisy tucked into his side. She had no doubt that having to skip celebrating the holidays with his family hadn’t been great for his sanity either. Although, now that the truth was out, the whole world knew that her husband was the one who’d discovered HYDRA had survived. He was a hero, and his family finally understood the real reason he’d gone into hiding. Phillips seemed more focused than usual, though the new status quo hadn’t made him any kinder.
Daisy worried for her husband, for their family, for her mother, for her friends, and for SHIELD, but she was more hopeful than she’d been in a long time. Despite disappearing from Camp Lehigh with another of the Chronicom’s transportation devices, SHIELD had a lead on Zola’s whereabouts, and they’d sent STRIKE to get him. Half the heads of HYDRA had already been arrested or killed, and the other half were making themselves scarce. Daisy didn’t intend to let them.
The incursion was brutal, precise, and uncompromising. Daisy had run out of mercy for Nazis long before she joined SHIELD, and every agent under her command that died in this war only made her more determined to finish the job. HYDRA had bought an office building in Tijuana, with the hope that a border would buy them some more time. They were mistaken. STRIKE was bursting through windows and doors before anyone could react, with both SHIELD agents and Federales on standby in case anything went to shit, and a team of scientists waiting nearby. Intel indicated there was a lab on the highest of the three floors, so as soon as the bullets stopped flying and the HYDRA agents on the ground floor were dead or surrendered, Daisy grabbed the closest one by the collar.
“Is Zola upstairs?” She demanded. The man who she’d grabbed had a HYDRA lapel pin, and it took all her restraint not to pull it off and wedge it into his eye. He shook his head fearfully, shaking from terror rather than through any application of the powers she was trying very hard not to use. The gauntlet cover story only worked if she used them very sparingly, or else people would start demanding they be mass-produced.
“N-No. He left yesterday.’
“Where the hell did he go then?”
“I don’t know! He didn’t say! I just know he’s meeting up with Malick! Please don’t kill me?”
Daisy tossed him aside, letting her team slap handcuffs on his wrists and dump him into a pile with the rest of the prisoners. By the time she’d reached the top of the stairs, there was gunfire from above. Her brow furrowed, and she exchanged a confused look with Morita, who shrugged in confusion. This wasn’t SHIELD’s doing. Someone else was shooting on the third floor. A sharp kick from the Howling Commando broke the door open, and three HYDRA agents were dead before they could respond. Many of them were clustered around the door to the third and highest floor, and those who didn’t throw down their weapons were quickly and efficiently subdued. The gunfire and sounds of fighting from above continued, only falling silent as STRIKE prepared to breach the third floor.
When Daisy and her agents did burst through the door, they were met with ten dead bodies and five scientists quite literally gift-wrapped. They’d been tied up with rope configured into a bow, then lashed to chairs. Standing in the middle of them, holding a rifle across her lap and twirling a knife between her fingers, was a too-familiar woman with curly blonde hair and a massive plastic smile. Daisy sighed, holstering her gun, and approached their unlikely ally.
“What are you doing here, Underwood?”
“I was bored, and thought Peg could use the help. Is she here? I’ve got some presents. A belated Christmas gift for her. I’m a reformed woman now.”
“You already know she isn’t,” Daisy spat. She didn’t dislike Dottie exactly, but she was really tired, and the woman’s antics were exhausting.
“Then say hi for me, will ya? I miss her. I’ll stop by soon.”
The assassin turned to leave, still twirling a knife around, before Kanoffsky cautiously approached Daisy and Dottie. The young agent said something to the other woman in Russian. They conversed rapidly for a minute, leaving most of the room incredibly confused, before the elder of the two former Widows nodded slowly and backed away. Before Daisy could stop her- although she admittedly wasn’t sure if she wanted to- Dottie was vaulting out a window and clambering down the fire escape, which really should’ve been better secured. Daisy returned her attention to her agent.
“What was that all about?”
“I remembered hearing stories about her in the Red Room as a child, when they were hunting her down. I wanted to know how many were true.”
“And? How much danger are we in?”
“I think we’ll be okay, ma’am. She’s obsessed with Carter and distrusts HYDRA. Enemy of my enemy and all that. She’s still a Communist even though the Soviets are out to get her, and isn’t a big fan of Nazis. Didn’t even kill anyone to get in here. Well, no one who wasn’t HYDRA.”
Daisy nodded her acknowledgement, and the younger woman left to go stand guard with her… girlfriend? coworker? best friend? With Natalie, whatever they currently were to each other. Daisy was leaning towards girlfriends, but she couldn’t know for sure, and it wasn’t like she could ask without giving them booth a heart attack.
A team of scientists soon flooded into the room, rapidly scouring the area and making a beeline for the lab. Daisy followed, still not trusting anyone she hadn’t known for at least several years. Inside the lab, Morita was arguing with a bald, dark-skinned man in a lab coat who she vaguely recognized. As soon as she entered, they both quieted.
“Louise. Tell them they can’t drag all this stuff away until we know it won’t blow up, please?” Morita asked.
“Don’t drag all this stuff away until we know it won’t blow up, Doctor…”
“Wilkes. Jason Wilkes. You must be Commander Wen Sousa?” The scientist looked nervous, more than he should be. Not that Daisy wasn’t terrifying, but hey, she wasn’t even covered in that much blood.
“That’s me. Something the matter, Dr. Wilkes?”
“No ma’am. It’s just that the orders came straight from the top. Director Phillips and Stark both agreed. I work for Stark Industries, you see. And SHIELD sometimes. When they need me. Not that they ever need me, need me. Just-” She rose a hand, and he fell silent. One of the other scientists, a beady-eyed and heavyset man, was looking at her oddly as well.
“Do I know you from somewhere? You look familiar.” Wilkes paled, and the other scientist replied before he could.
“He knew Deputy Director Carter and Chief Sousa back in the day. There was a whole awkward love triangle thing. He’s nervous that your husband hates him. I told him not to worry about it though. If I’m still working here even though the Chief can’t stand me for no reason, he’ll be fine.” Daisy’s mouth turned up in a small smile, and she could sense nearly everyone in the room trying not to laugh- except for Wilkes, who was terrified.
“You must be Doctor Samberly,” she sighed.
“You’ve heard of me!”
“Not a good thing. Doctor Wilkes, you have nothing to be scared of, I promise. Daniel doesn’t carry grudges for twenty years, and neither do I. Can you tell me what we’re looking at here before I let you carry it off, just so we’re sure it doesn’t blow up?”
Wilkes sighed, relaxed, and acquiesced, launching into an explanation she didn’t understand about all the theories he had for what this machine did. Unfortunately, Daisy immediately recognized the contraption spread out across the lab tables before them. How could she not, when she’d spent a year living on a spaceship powered by a very similar mechanism? Thankfully, she could sense there was no gravitonium inside, just many of the pieces that could control, contain, and enhance it. In her completely inexpert view, when the machine was assembled it would be small enough to carry around in a van, and powerful enough to level buildings. All using the gravitonium HYDRA had taken years ago, that she was supposed to have kept out of their hands. When Wilkes’ tirade ended, she spoke.
“Can everyone take three steps back for me?” Although not a single person in the room understood the order, all obeyed it. Before anyone else could stop her, Daisy drew her gun and fired into all the most complete-looking clusters of machinery. While Wilkes sputtered in confusion and shouted at her, Daisy blasted the remaining scraps with her ‘gauntlets’. “It won’t blow up. You can take it away now.” Shrugging apologetically at the stunned, furious scientists, she hurried out of the room to find a radio. She needed to call a lot of people, very quickly.
Notes:
Some more cameos felt in order lmao. Something to balance out yet another Red Room OC. Between Peggy and Daisy both being who they are, all of those women are getting found familied by *someone* whether they like it or not. For the curious, Liz is Kazakh. I doubt it's ever gonna come up in the story, but yeah. The USSR was a big place. A lot of Kazakhs do have Russian names, although the Red Room would've probably taken it away for a while anyways, bc they're (fitz voice) the absolute worst.
And we've made it to '64! Thank you all for making it this far. Comments always make my day.
Chapter Text
May 21, 1964
Werner was sitting in bed, reading, when it began. He started to float, just a couple inches off the bed, and smiled to himself. HYDRA had managed to slip a few spies into this SHIELD base over the years, and although none had visited him for six months, he knew Zola was working on a weapon that could control gravity. Finally, he was being set free. He managed to hook his feet under the lip of the nailed-down cot, and pulled himself flush against it. Everything not nailed down in the room was floating: only the bed and small table remained on the ground. Moments later, a terrible screeching, grinding, tearing sound tore through his eardrums. When it ended, his few possessions clattered to the floor, and he once again felt gravity pulling him downwards, as it should be. Alarms and screams sounded outside, soon joined by gunfire. Werner stood, straightening his prisoner’s uniform and glasses, and flattening his hair.
When the door was finally opened, there were two HYDRA-uniformed men standing on the other side. The uniforms weren’t those they’d worn during the War, but the skull and octopus on their arms made clear who these men served.
“Hail HYDRA,” Werner drawled.
“Hail HYDRA!” Came the echo, as both men nearly punched each other in their haste to extend their fists. The satisfaction of being free thrummed through his veins as he drew himself up to his full height, approaching the two men.
“The other prisoners?”
“Being freed now, Obergruppenführer . Your cell was the priority.” The man’s German accent was atrocious, he was clearly an American trying too hard to be respectful, but it was grating nonetheless.
“‘Sir’ will suffice. Did you encounter much resistance within the base?” He needed to know if the Inhuman was here. If they’d killed her before he could run his experiments, he’d kill whatever idiot planned this mission himself.
“No sir. STRIKE is gone on a mission, that’s why we struck today. You’ll have to come with us now sir, we don’t have much time.” They stood to the side, gesturing for Werner to exit his cell. He happily did so for the first time in far too long- he wasn’t kept completely solitary, but he did have very long stretches in only those four walls- and was shocked to find himself in a relatively intact hallway, with others in prisoner uniforms identical to his own being led out of their cells by more operatives. All told, there were maybe twenty prisoners, and half again that number of heavily armed agents. They were handing out guns to the lower-ranking prisoners, and ushering them through the hallways. Werner followed in silence for a moment, taking in the base he’d never truly gotten to see, before asking the questions he’d been dying to since he’d been freed.
“What caused this? And where is the Obelisk, SSR Object 0-8-4?”
“A new weapon of Zola’s, and it’s being searched for as we speak. We need to hurry, sir.”
He and the other prisoners were shuttled up a staircase, and into some sort of large gymnasium. The roof had been torn off, revealing a hundred-foot silo of rock and metal, with the HYDRA agents at the bottom of it. Above, he could see blue skies for the first time in years. Closer to the floor of the gymnasium were hovering a small fleet of odd, plane-like vehicles. He’d have to ask about their design later. The armed agents methodically divided and escorted the freed prisoners into the planes, which took off with a roar as soon as each was loaded. Werner gaped as they flew straight up through the silo, acting more like helicopters than planes; although normal planes couldn’t hover either. Finally, his own plane tore into the sky, carrying its load of prisoners to god knows where. He heard the pilots shout that one of their fleet had been shot down by the military, but the rest had made it out, and even managed to shoot down the offending Air Force planes.
A couple of hours later, when the strange jet landed, Werner was led into a makeshift hangar filled with several more of the planes, then rushed through a doorway, as the other freed prisoners were escorted through a different one. Clearly, HYDRA’s remnants were scrambling from hidden base to hidden place, without the luxuries and resources they were used to. After a few twisting hallways and many, many armed guards.
“Dr. Zola. Mr. Malick. A pleasure to see you both again,” he lied. It would be a pleasure to see them dead, the traitor and the fanatic. “The weapon you used to attack that SHIELD base was most impressive.” Both were sitting behind a large wooden desk, with a plush chair on the other side of it, no doubt intended for Werner. He stayed standing. He didn’t like either man, but they doubtless ran what was left of HYDRA now. He had to tread carefully if he wanted to achieve his goals. Malick smiled broadly, and a guard handed Werner a bag. Only then did his liberator deign to speak.
“A welcome back present. For the third head of HYDRA.” Why were they giving him that much power? They could’ve forced him to work for them, not with them. Unless… ah. They knew how many people he’d ratted out already, and knew he’d been building a network of his own before being removed from The Rat. This was an attempt to bring him into the fold, a gesture of goodwill. He could play their game for now, then. Once he’d integrated himself, Malick and Zola could both be disposed of.
Opening the bag, he found the bottle of the liquor he’d bought thirty years ago, which had been so bland at the time. Now, he knew it must be perfect, if it hadn’t been poisoned. Malick flicked his wrist, and a guard brought in a fine suit hanging on a rack, no doubt trimmed to Reinhardt’s measurements already. Foolish and pitiful attempts at bribery, although it did feel nice to return to some semblance of an actual life. “You have a lab set up on the premises already, complete with everything you need for the Faustus method, and all of our considerable information on the Diviner and Inhumans. Unfortunately, the Diviner itself wasn’t found at the Playground, we’ve lost track of it.” Now that piqued his interests, and Zola’s toady smile showed he knew it.
“The third. How did the two of you survive the devastation that SHIELD wrought on the other heads?”
“That’s easy. The information you gave them on us wasn’t as up to date. And we had… outside sources of information.” Reinhardt carefully kept the surprise off his face, but Malick just smirked and kept talking. “Your name is Daniel Whitehall now. It won’t actually keep you hidden, but it’ll send the message we need it to.”
“And what message is that?”
“That’s rather complicated to explain, my friend. You’ve met SHIELD’s pet Inhuman, yes?”
“Agent Wen, yes. We’re acquainted.”
“Her real name is Daisy Johnson, and her mother, Jiaying, is the woman who could survive the Diviner. There’s quite a lot that you’ve missed while rotting away, Dr. Whitehall. We’ll have to get you up to speed.” Her mother ? But she must have been born when Jiaying was barely a teenager. No wonder he’d missed the connection.
“How do you know all this?” he asked with bated breath. Zola smiled, and gestured to the chair Werner had so far refused to take.
“ Sit down, my friend. This is a long story, ” said the scientist he despised in their native German. Reinhardt- no, Whitehall- was helpless to do anything but obey. He listened in awe as he was told of the Quinjets they’d stolen from SHIELD, Chronicoms, the Gravitonium, time travel and other timelines, and of course the ever-present problems that were Daniel Sousa, Melinda May, and Daisy Johnson. Knowing the truth of who she was, and some of what she’d done, only made him more eager to see her under his knife. The Chronicom that called itself Luke had passed over so little information in the grand scheme of things, and there were so many secrets left to uncover. He had every intention of carving it out of her.
“So. What now?” He finally asked, slowly processing all the information he’d been given. Zola smiled wickedly, and his two colleagues, both of whom needed to be killed as soon as SHIELD was dealt with, exchanged a wicked look.
“HYDRA loves to talk about getting our heads cut off,” Malick said. “They even named their anti-HYDRA unit Project Hercules. I think it’s time we returned the favor to SHIELD, and made sure to burn the stumps.” As they laid out their plans, Werner felt confident of victory for the first time since he’d learned of the Red Skull’s death.
May 27, 1964
Reinhardt had escaped. The Playground was destroyed. Daisy was terrified. She’d known HYDRA had been planning something with the gravitonium, but this? She’d assumed it would just be some sort of big-ass gun. HYDRA loved big-ass guns. But no, they tore up an entire city block just to free some prisoners, including the one man who scared her more than anyone in the world. She hadn’t lived at the Playground in years, but it had been STRIKE’s base of operations, and many of their supplies and personal effects were lost. The base still felt like home to Daisy, and now it was gone. With Reinhardt out of prison and the Playground in ruins, again, STRIKE would need a different kind of advantage. They needed a new recruit, and she knew just who to ask. That thought process was how she found herself in Bucky Barnes’ cell, sitting across from the man who’d very nearly killed her, and long before (after) that had been a childhood hero of hers. She vividly remembered seeing his name on the Wall of Valor at the Academy- before everything went to shit- not far from Daniel’s. Now, if this meeting went well, they’d all be working together.
Barnes was analyzing her, and she was doing the same to him. Neither of them seemed able to break through their training, or their slight weariness around each other after their first meeting, despite the fact that she’d visited already, to forgive him for killing Gallagher. He looked more human now than he had then. He was in regular, civilian clothing, jeans and a wife beater. Barnes wouldn’t have been out of place in a James Dean movie. His hair had been cut since she’d seen him last, which definitely helped get rid of the whole ‘feral dog’ look. His metal arm had been repaired, and the red star had been replaced with a familiar red, white, and blue shield. Photographs and mementos dotted the cell- there was even a Bucky Bear- and worn dog tags hung around his neck. Piles of books on recent history and pop culture abounded.
“I’m sorry,” was the first thing he said to her. She could only sigh, remembering Gallagher’s humor and his skill. How many lives he’d saved, and how many smiles he’d brought to his team.
“I know. There was never anything to forgive, I told you that last time I was here.” Daisy knew better than most what it meant to be forced to hurt someone you never would on your own, and to love doing it.
“Then why are you here?” Barnes’ voice wasn’t a demand, but it left no room for avoiding the truth.
“I’m going to do something for you that no one has in a long time: be completely honest. I have powers. Don’t ask any more questions- but I know you remember our fight. You know I’m telling the truth.” To her surprise, he nodded slowly. If he could swallow that pill, the next would be easier.
“Yeah, I know. I always thought that gauntlet thing was bull. I didn’t tell anyone though.”
“I appreciate that, it’s highly classified. Do you remember much from your first few days back with SHIELD?” This time, his nod was more stiff, that of a soldier not yet told they could be at ease. Daisy winced internally, and resolved to lighten the mood.
“I remember you telling me that you’d been through what I had. Is this the part where you explain what you meant?”
“It’s actually the part where I give you my traumatic backstory, but yes. I want you to work for me. Join my team.”
“The team that I shot a member of?”
“That’s right.”
“You’re insane. I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s Daisy, but you should call me Louise. And I’m a little bit crazy, yeah.” It would be weirder if she was completely sane after all the shit she’d seen, to be fair. Barnes gaped at her for a moment, then rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair, arms folded over his chest. She was struck for a moment by just how much he looked like all the propaganda posters she’d seen of him and Captain America. Coulson had been a huge fan of both, but only ever met Rogers. He’d be so jealous if he could see Daisy now.
“The hell are you looking at me like that for?” His Brooklyn accent became thicker, but his tone didn’t betray anything threatening. That was good. She’d beaten him once, but didn’t want to have to do so again.
“Sorry, you’re a bit of a childhood hero of mine. This is kinda surreal. Shit, I’m still not used to working with the Peggy Carter or being married to the Daniel Sousa.” His eyebrow raised, but she could tell he was calculating what this meant.
“Childhood? How old are you?”
“See, now that’s a very difficult question to answer. We could say I turn forty in a couple months, but it would be a lot easier to ask me what year I was born.”
“Were you frozen, like me? What year were you born?” Daisy almost felt bad for crushing his hopes of finding a kindred spirit.
“1988.” He stared at Daisy like she was completely insane, which was fair. She’d already admitted to it.
“So… you knew I was with HYDRA, because you’re from the future. Which is also how Peggy knew Steve couldn’t be found for decades.” He put the pieces together fast. Clearly, the concussion she’d given him hadn’t caused any permanent damage.
“That’s right.”
“What happened to me?” He asked, voice filled with horror.
“In 2014, when SHIELD fell, you fought Captain America, he recognized you, you ended up on the run. A couple years later, you got framed for blowing up the UN, but later exonerated. I don’t know the full story there, so don’t ask. You kind of disappeared for a little while, but in 2018 there was this huge fight against a bunch of aliens, led by this guy named Thanos- again, don’t ask. But the short version is, you fought for the good guys, and won. I left Earth for a year right after that battle, and ended up travelling to the past like three days after I got home, so I’m not too up to date on the celebrity gossip after Wakanda. But I talked to my mom, and from what she told me, you got pardoned, and as far as anyone knows, you’re working with the Avengers- those are good guys- and probably dating Steve Rogers. Any questions?” The former assassin opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish several times, then rubbed at the painted shield on his metal arm. How very subtle.
“Yes. So, so many. Being with HYDRA for so long…”
“I’m sure it wasn’t a pleasant experience. You can ask your questions, though we’ve never met before in my time, so I’m not sure how well I can answer the ones about you. But I do know that whatever else you are, you’re a good person, and you’re a skilled fighter. Those are the only two real requirements for joining up at this point. HYDRA’s escalated, and we need to finish this war, quickly. I’ve already got Jim Morita on my team, and the rest of the Commandos are fighting too, but I could use your squid-killing expertise.” Barnes grinned, the first time she saw joy from him. It was quickly replaced by a frown and a furrowed brow as he pondered the details of this new reality.
“What did you mean when you said you’d been through this too? Were you a Widow?”
“No. I was worse.”
“Worse? I killed the President. The world despises me, and they’re right to.”
“The world has been inundated with old wartime propaganda to stir up hatred for HYDRA. All they remember is the heroic Sergeant Barnes, whose tragic death on the eve of HYDRA’s fall ended up being an even more tragic captivity and torture. You’re… controversial, sure, but not despised. And yes. I was worse.”
The two soldiers ended up talking for hours as she told him her story, and by the end, he’d reluctantly agreed to join her team once he’d been fully deprogrammed.
-
“Did he say yes?” Daniel asked as she entered their living room later that day. A Beatles record was playing in the background- thank god she’d reached the point where there was music she recognized- and Daniel seemed comfortable and at ease, reading reports with a blanket over his lap. Before she responded, she curled up on the couch next to her husband, and pulled him sideways so his head was leaning against her stomach. He just chuckled good naturedly and allowed Daisy to card her hand through his hair, which, thank god, hadn’t started to bald. Her husband was 45, and five years her senior, already wearing glasses to read and with the salt-and-pepper hair that had been graying since before she’d known him. Thankfully, aging looked really good on him. Daisy had barely aged a day since 1955, aside from some faint wrinkles that blended in with her scars. Probably something to do with Inhuman biology, but far from her highest priority. It may have been the sixties, but Daniel had needed no persuasion to avoid growing a terrible mustache. Much to Daisy’s delight, however, his hair was slightly longer than it had been when they’d first met, and had grown curlier for it. Daisy had avoided any Jackie Kennedy hairstyles, and knew she looked somewhat out of place, but her hair had been around her shoulders for the past couple months. In a time this stressful, she ached to dye it some outrageous color or another.
“He did. We’re gonna need his help.”
“We’ll get Reinhardt. My wife happens to be the best in the world at hunting down HYDRA’s leaders, you should ask her to join your team too.” Daisy snorted and gently flicked his ear, earning a half-hearted grumble.
“Dork. You’re too optimistic.”
“I’m serious, Dais. He won’t be free for long. You’re safe.”
“I know that, intellectually. I’d kill him before he ever laid a finger on me.”
“So would I, and your mom, and your team, and my sister, and-”
“I know. I just don’t want to end up like my birth mother.”
“What he did to her was horrible, and thanks to you , he’ll never be able to do it to anyone else. He’s on the run, now. HYDRA doesn’t have the resources or connections they’d need to find Afterlife. And you hid the Diviner, no humans will get their hands on it.”
“I’m not worried about dying, or being tortured. I’m worried about surviving it and never being the same. I already barely know who the fuck I am, what if I go insane like Jiaying and get all trigger-happy?”
“You are Daisy Johnson, and you know exactly who you are.”
“Not Louise Wen Sousa? Or Skye? Or Daisy Johnson-Sousa? Or any of the other names I’ve used?”
“You know what I meant, sweetheart. Who you are is the strongest, most badass person I’ve ever met. And definitely not Mary Sue Poots. That asshole doesn’t stand a chance.”
“It’s my fault he’s free in the first place, I got him transferred.”
“And the intel you got from him let us capture half of HYDRA’s leadership in a day. Besides, if they used that weapon at the Rat instead of the Playground, we’d have even more escaped prisoners to worry about.” Daisy sighed, accepting defeat. Daniel never let her feel sorry for herself for long. She shifted their positions until they were both cuddled on the couch, and sighed contentedly.
“We should get a cat, once we move up north.”
“Why bother, we’ve already got you. You’re literally purring right now.”
“Shut up, Sousa.”
“That’s Johnson to you.”
In the background, the music continued to play, giving voice to Daisy’s thoughts.
“...Close your eyes, and I’ll kiss you…” Thankfully, she’d married a very smart man, and he kissed her before she had to do more than smirk.
June 5, 1964
Howard rubbed his hands together nervously before knocking on the door to Director Phillips’ office. Now that Bucky had agreed to rejoin the fight, Johnson was occasionally using her powers openly, and HYDRA was using their gravitonium, he had a request to make. His dream project had been on the back burner ever since Zola’s true loyalties were revealed, but this wasn’t an opportunity SHIELD could afford to pass up. After a moment, the knock was answered.
“Is that you, Stark? Come in!”
Stepping through the door, Howard froze at what he saw. The director’s office had been divided in two, with what used to be a sitting area replaced with the most fucked-up movie theater he’d ever seen. On the other side of soundproof glass, a man whose face he couldn’t see was strapped to a board, with a weird, LSD-looking light show playing before him. It took a second, but Howard recognized the lights. This was the Faustus Method. He’d been looking into it for a little while now, at Phillips’ request, but he knew he wasn’t the only one, and hadn’t realized just how much progress had been made. Howard was… conflicted about the whole thing. Seeing just how broken Bucky was had shattered his heart, but this wasn’t the chair. The Widows had been innocent little girls, stolen from across the world and tortured through their childhood. If the Director wanted to turn HYDRA agents, literal Nazis, the ones who’d tortured Bucky in the first place, into loyal SHIELD assets? Howard could be persuaded to let it happen.
“What are you thinking, Stark?” His boss asked. He cleared his throat before responding.
“Who is he?”
“HYDRA. Stoner brought him in, apparently he’s got ties to Zola. If we can crack him, we’ll send him back out as a double agent. With any luck he’ll put a bullet in that asshole’s brain and we can all sleep a little easier, and if it works, there’s a couple other candidates.” Howard couldn’t help but agree. “Whatever you want is gonna need to wait a minute. It’s almost time.” Phillips gestured for him to follow, and he did, as the director opened the glass door. A droning, whirring sound was coming from inside the room, along with the ticking of a metronome. Phillips flicked a switch, and the droning shut off. He positioned himself just out of the HYDRA agent’s sight, and pulled out a notecard while Howard watched. The captive man seemed too weak to struggle, and his eyes were taped open. It would’ve made his stomach churn, if he wasn’t completely certain the man deserved it.
“Surrender, and you will find meaning. Surrender, and you will find release. Take a deep breath. Calm your mind. You know what’s best. What’s best is you comply. Compliance will be rewarded. Are you ready to comply?”
“I’m happy to,” came the reply. Phillips smiled tightly, and went about removing the straps and ties, and shutting off the projector and metronome. Howard helped, until the director ordered the newly-obedient agent to undo the rest himself, which he did. Phillips left the man sitting on his own in the glass room, and led Howard back to the main part of the office. He sat behind his desk with a grunt, rubbing at his knees, and lit up a cigarette. It was hard to forget that the Director was incredibly old, and likely not long for this world. But Howard was sure this program would survive, if it delivered results. Whatever it took to keep the world safe.
“So, Stark. What do you need?”
“I want permission to resume studying the Tesseract. HYDRA’s got all sorts of crazy weapons, we should have some too. If we can recreate Zola’s work-”
“Permission granted. Anything else?” Howard blinked in surprise, but knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“No, Director. That’s all.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow then, Howard.”
“You too, sir.”
Chapter 26
Notes:
Posting a bit early because I'm bored. Mind the Major Character Death warning!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
August 18, 1964
It had been almost a year since SHIELD had freed him, and the doctors thought he was ready. So, without pomp or circumstance, Bucky had allowed himself to be strapped into a metal chair in his cell, with four guards aiming rifles at his head. Dugan and Lizaveta were the only others allowed inside- the former because he trusted him with his life, and the latter because she’d been incredibly helpful over the past months. They were friends, after a fashion. Bucky hadn’t expected to be able to make more friends. After today, if everything went well, he’d be joining STRIKE, and returning to the field. He’d hoped he’d be able to retire, but his pardon was still conditional, and Bucky couldn’t exactly pass up an opportunity to fight with someone from the future, who had superpowers. Since her services would no longer be needed as a mind-control therapist, Liz would be joining him. According to her, STRIKE had lost some of its manpower over the course of the war with HYDRA so far, and the team already had one former Widow whom she considered a friend. His old friend opened a folded sheet of paper, and Bucky braced himself as Dugan began to read.
“Jelani. R… Rzave. Semnadstate. Rassvet . Pek. Dave-yacht.” He struggled through the words, absolutely butchering their pronunciation to the point where they were almost entirely unrecognizable. If it wasn’t for the circumstances, it would be comedic.
“Stop. Just… no. You don’t speak Russian, Dugan. This is embarrassing. You should be embarrassed,” Bucky said. He was grinning despite himself, but managed to keep his tone serious. Liz was shaking with silent laughter next to Dugan, but she quickly sobered when Bucky’s attention turned to her. There was no one who he trusted to do this, not really, but his options for ‘Russian speakers he didn’t hate’ were limited to Peggy and Liz, and only one was in the same time zone. “Can you?” She nodded slowly, understanding what it meant to him. Dugan left the room, since his presence was no longer required, but not before he mumbled encouragement to his friend and grumbled about how Russian was a stupid language anyway. Bucky smiled at him, but knew his anxieties had to be showing. What if all the treatments had been for nothing? What if it worked, and he lost control again? Bucky bit back his panic as Liz slowly, and much more clearly than Dugan, read the words that he dreaded.
“ Zhelaniye. Rzhavyy. Semnadstat. Rassvet. Pech. Devyat. Dobroserdechnyy. Vozvrashcheniye na rodinu. Odin. Gruzovoy vagon. ” Bucky braced himself for the familiar pain of his mind getting sucked down a drain, of losing himself to whoever read from the book. Instead, his panic continued, and his tears kept flowing. He’d never been so happy to have a minor panic attack before. His mind was his own. He understood the Russian words, but only by their definitions. It meant nothing more. He was free. Liz and the guards watched him carefully, but a slow smile spread across her face when she realized he was still crying, and his emotions were still his own.
“Thank you,” he managed to choke out.
“You have nothing to thank me for. You’ve freed yourself.” The guards relaxed their weapons, and Liz pressed a button that caused his restraints to spring open. “ Now I’ve freed you,” she said with a smirk. Bucky just rolled his eyes. The door to the cell opened, and Dugan rushed in, wrapping Bucky in a hug as he was standing up, and nearly knocking him back into the chair.
“I missed you, Bucky. Welcome back to the real world.” Bucky returned the hug, careful not to break any bones, and followed his friends out of the cell that had been his home for far too long, into the real world.
November 25, 1964
Pierre Devereaux had been waiting for this moment for years. During the war, he’d enlisted with the SS, having long sympathized with the Nazi regime despite the fact that they’d conquered his country. He’d been placed with a group of other French volunteers, and proudly helped keep order in Occupied France, as the damned Allies called it. Not long after that, he’d been admitted into HYDRA at his request, and fought valiantly and with honors until the war’s end. He’d been one of the most decorated snipers in his unit. His skills at infiltration and subterfuge had allowed him to survive HYDRA’s defeat at the hands of Captain America. He’d changed his name, slipped back into France, returning to civilian life, and soon gotten in touch with HYDRA’s remnants. Dr. Reinhardt, his commander during the war, had coordinated Pierre’s rebuilding efforts from prison. After Dr. Reinhardt had been transferred, and communication had ceased, Pierre continued on his own. At the outbreak of open war, the French and American authorities had torn his network apart, but Pierre had once again escaped. Before long, Dr. Reinhardt had reached out once more, this time with a plan that required a skilled sniper. Pierre volunteered himself. Now, he was waiting in the window of a DC townhouse, waiting for a specific car to pass by the street below, so he could carry out his orders. He was here to deal a crippling blow to SHIELD.
After nearly an hour, the opportunity he’d been informed of finally arrived. A large, black, bulletproof SUV, with tinted windows. But Pierre didn’t need to shoot its passenger, not yet anyway. He flicked a switch beside him, and the streetlight down the block turned from green to yellow to red, positioning the car right where he wanted it, directly in front of the house he’d commandeered. With a grin, Pierre took aim and fired. The back right tire of the car exploded, and with another shot, so did the front right. The muzzle on his rifle prevented any more sound than a dull thump, and no doubt it seemed to just be a flat tire. A dark-suited SHIELD agent got out of the passenger seat, and Pierre could hear him curse the tires from his vantage point.
“Must’ve run over a couple nails or something, sir.” Pierre smirked to himself at their stupidity, and heard a gruff but unintelligible reply from inside the car. He readied his weapon again. “No, sir, stay in the car. Please-”
“I know how to change a goddamn tire, Joe! Christ almighty. I’m old, not useless.” The back door opened, and Pierre’s heart swelled as his target stepped out. Chester Phillips stood there, scowling at his blown out tires, and muttering something too quiet to hear. He raised the sniper rifle, and the Director of SHIELD’s head fell directly into the center of the targeting reticule. The slightest bit of pressure from his finger, and the man’s head turned into a fine red mist. The shouts of his guard were soon silenced by another carefully placed shot, though the screams of the various civilians milling about were not so easily quieted. The car’s driver had spotted him, and was shooting at the window he’d turned into a sniper’s nest with a puny handgun. Drywall and brick splintered around him, but he kept his wits about him. With the calm of the practiced soldier that he was, Pierre took aim, and-
Searing pain erupted from his shoulder, and he fell backwards into the kitchen of the house he’d broken into.
“ Putain de merde!” A quick check of his situation showed that his sniper rifle had fallen out the window, but he still had the AK-47 he’d brought nearby. Blood was gushing from far too close to his heart, however. By the time Pierre had the machine gun loaded and aimed at the door, consciousness was slipping away. He was too weak to shoot the SHIELD agent who barged in the doorway, but he was awake enough to remember the pain of two more bullets tearing into his chest, before the blackness at the edge of his vision expanded to encompass everything.
-
The drive from their DC home to SHIELD’s airfield outside the city was not one they had to make often, but it was always difficult. Since the Playground had been destroyed, she and Daniel had been called up to Camp Lehigh more and more often. Usually, they’d head north into Maryland, get in a Quinjet, and be at work within an hour. Today, traffic was being a real pain in the ass. Otherwise, it was a completely normal drive. Daisy was behind the wheel, with the radio playing music she hadn’t thought about in years even before she came here. The silence was comfortable, with their hands clasped together on Daniel’s lap. It would’ve almost been normal, if not for the gun she knew was in the glove compartment, and the fact that it was 1964. But she’d gotten used to that long ago. Daisy had always been more comfortable in the thick of the action, she hated little more than feeling useless. She’d built a home here.
To anyone who might be driving alongside them, she and Daniel probably looked like every other couple off to commute to some boring office job. Perfectly normal, perfectly bland. 1960s suburbia at its height. No sign of anything untoward, unusual, or spycraft-related. The illusion was shattered when Daisy’s senses picked up something moving against the flow of traffic, towards them rather than away. She reached out, and was able to discern it to be at least ten men. All heavily armed. And walking straight towards them.
“HYDRA! Get down!”
“What? HYDRA, here?” She shot Daniel an annoyed look, and he immediately crouched down as best he could, trying to scramble for the gun in the glove compartment at the same time. The car in front of them chose that moment to explode. Under the roar, Daisy made out the sound of screeching metal and bursting glass before her ears started ringing too loudly for her to use her traditional senses any longer. A glance at her husband found him firing through the shattered windshield, covered in glass and blood but blissfully alive. He shouted something at her, waving his hand in a clear gesture for her to go. Daisy kicked her door open, rolling to the pavement. She was unarmed, but that wasn’t an issue. A bullet whizzed by her head, and Daisy focused in on the man who fired it, snapping his neck with a thought. As long as Daniel and civilians were in the line of fire, she couldn’t afford to pull any punches, but she couldn’t unleash her powers either. Too many people might get killed.
Running forward, Daisy mentally made a map of the crowded highway. Her ears were still ringing, but her vibrations were fine. Nine agents were coming her way, she’d already killed one. She couldn’t pull that neck-snapping trick again, not while she was directly in the line of fire. If she lost the slightest bit of focus she might blow up some commuter’s skull. One more heartbeat stopped- Daniel must have landed a shot. She got close enough to hear orders being shouted between the HYDRA operatives before she had to resume fighting.
“Be careful, Whitehall wants the woman alive!”
“I take orders from Malick, not Whitehall. He can have whatever’s left of her.”
That was as good motivation as any to make sure she survived this. Reinhardt had changed his name again after escaping, Malick must have told him everything just to toy with her. She would not suffer her mother’s fate. Within a few moments, Daisy had killed the other eight soldiers, through a whirlwind mix of quake-powered punches, snapped necks, and a stolen gun. As soon as she’d confirmed they were down, she ran back towards where she’d left Daniel, her hearing finally starting to clear.
Just before she reached the car, another explosion threw her to her feet. When she managed to get back up and wipe the blood out of her eyes, it was to the sight of three more HYDRA agents approaching from behind her car: two with rifles, and one with a still-smoking RPG. There was no answering gunfire coming from Daniel’s spot in the passenger seat. She’d managed to hold on to her ‘borrowed’ weapon, and three shots later, all three of the agents were dead. Cursing her stupidity, she stumbled the last few feet towards her husband, terrified of what she’d find there.
Daisy blasted the now-bent door off her thoroughly ruined car, and felt herself pale with fear when she saw Daniel, still bloodied from the shattered glass, but conscious. He winced when she laid a hand on his shoulder, and she saw that his prosthetic had been badly twisted by the explosion. She methodically freed him from the seatbelt and carried him away from the wreckage without a word, too focused on her task. He was taller and heavier than she was, and it was far from easy. Daniel said nothing, his head lolling slightly before settling against her shoulder. She managed to get them off the highway, to the tree line just a couple meters from the edge of the road. Daisy managed to lean him against a tree, and he blinked slowly at her. Even propped up, he looked woozy, but thankfully he seemed alright otherwise. Daisy had no idea what she’d do if he wasn’t.
“Are you okay?”
“Mostly, sweetheart. But I think I’m gonna lose the leg,” her idiot husband deadpanned, gesturing to the ruined prosthetic. It had been bent in half, but thankfully his flesh seemed undamaged. Daisy had just enough time to roll her eyes before Daniel’s own rolled back in his head, and he immediately lost consciousness. Her amusement turned to panic, and she scrambled to assess his injuries. She must have missed something. Only when she cupped his head in her hands and her fingertips came away red and sticky did she find the ugly wound on the back of Daniel’s head. She wasn’t sure what had caused it, but his hair was already matted with blood seeping out from his scalp.
“No, no no no. Stay with me. Daniel! Wake the fuck up!” Only years of training kept Daisy from panicking. How the hell do you treat head wounds? She couldn’t exactly put a tourniquet on his skull. She couldn’t think straight, and had to check for a pulse by hand, too frazzled to sense his heartbeat. Thankfully, she found one, though it was far weaker than she was comfortable with. Her vision blurred with tears and time seemed to fray around the edges, as she worked frantically to try to keep the man she loved alive, even though she had absolutely no idea what to do. This wasn’t the kind of injury she was used to treating. Only when an EMT tried to her off of Daniel’s limp body did she realize an ambulance had arrived. Only then did she let him go. It wasn’t until much later that she started to breathe again.
-
Jack was having a terrible day. He had to wake up far earlier than he would’ve liked, just because Stark insisted on an early morning meeting. He and Agent Dugan had been reporting to the crazy scientist at his LA mansion when the sky opened up. Three Quinjets, among the many stolen by HYDRA, over the years, rained gunfire from above. Thankfully, Stark had built up some degree of defenses, and a hidden cannon had already blasted away one of the jets in a wave of blue fire. Jack recognized the energy, but said nothing. He, Stark, Dugan, and Jarvis were squirreled away in a bunker under the mansion, as Jarvis methodically fired the cannon from a control panel installed in one wall.
“Good shot, Jarvis!”
“Thank you, sir. I’ve been practicing.”
“Was that a fucking Tesseract round?” Dugan yelled, much too loudly for the enclosed space.
“It was, and it just saved our lives. You really want to argue about this now?” Stark bit back. The two men stared at each other for a moment before Dugan grimaced and looked away.
“I guess not.”
The butler managed to shoot down another of the jets before the third finally gave up on trying to bomb them into submission, and instead swooped below Jarvis’s firing angle.
“Sir, I believe we may need to mount a more ground-based defense,” Jarvis muttered. Stark’s answering grin was almost predatory. It took only moments to hand out a truly obscene amount of weaponry. Stark and Jarvis positioned themselves on a balcony overlooking the entryway. Jack and Dugan, the more experienced soldiers, took cover in doorways heading off to either side. Any HYDRA agents who stepped in the door would find themselves riddled with bullets. Jack hadn’t gotten in a gunfight like this since Russia, when he’d frozen up in the middle of the fight, and Dugan had had to save his ass. He was determined not to let things go so badly this time.
Jack heard the jet’s engines slow, and the shouts of HYDRA agents disgorging from it. He couldn’t tell how many voices there were, but he’d find out soon enough. Within seconds, the door had been kicked down, and bullets were whizzing through the air from both sides. It quickly became clear that this was a token force, a last-ditch attempt to do damage. HYDRA had lost two thirds of its landing force; assuming they’d even planned on landing, and not just bombing the mansion to bits. It might’ve worked, if not for Stark’s Tesseract Cannon- which Jack absolutely planned on chewing him out about later. Who the hell put a goddamn space laser on their roof ?
After what may have been hours of intense gunfire, but was probably more like ten minutes, the entryway finally fell silent. Jack poked his head out from cover, examining the piled bodies of HYDRA agents, and shooting one that looked like it might be twitching. There was no movement or noise after that.
“Is that all of them?” Jack asked.
“I fuckin’ hope so,” grumbled the Howling Commando by his side. Jack turned to face Dugan, smiling, only for the triumphant grin on his face to slide away in a moment. The man beside him was swaying on his feet, blood pouring out of a wound that was far too high on his chest. Stark rushed forward, catching Dugan before he fell, but they all knew it was too late. And so Jack watched helplessly, horrified, as one of the greatest heroes SHIELD had ever seen bled out in Howard Stark’s arms.
-
That afternoon, Daisy and the rest of SHIELD’s surviving leadership found themselves in their usual conference room. No one spoke. There were too many absent friends and empty seats. It quickly had become clear that an all-out assault had been attempted against whatever leaders HYDRA could find, and they’d succeeded more often than anyone would have liked. Peggy entered the deadly silent room. All eyes immediately fell on her. She didn’t look too great, to say the least. Her eyes were puffy, her hair out of its usually immaculate styling. Something was deeply wrong. Daisy felt the emptiness of the chair next to her more than ever. Daniel should be here. Thankfully, May was on her other side, with a hand on Daisy’s shoulder. She could take comfort in her mother’s presence, at least. May looked shaken, and scratched up, but she’d fought off her own would-be-assassins with ease and grace. If only others had been so lucky. Carter cleared her throat before she began to speak.
“Director Phillips is dead. The autopsy confirms his cause of death is a bullet to the brain, which seems as though it should be rather obvious, although he shows signs of severe chronic lead poisoning. A bullet, likely from his service in the First World War, was embedded in his thigh.” Well. That certainly explained a lot. Peggy drew a shuddering breath, before continuing with her report. “Agent Dugan was killed in action in Los Angeles, and died heroically. Attempts were made on the lives of myself, the Agents Sousa, Agent Wen, Agent Thompson, Howard Stark, Edwin Jarvis, Agent Barnes, Agent Flynn, Colonel Stoner, Doctor Pym, and Agent Jones. We have scattered reports of other attempted assassinations in Britain, France, West Germany, the Soviet Union, and Canada, but those remain unclear. At least forty-six HYDRA agents were killed or captured due to all of your heroic actions today. Other casualties from today include Head of Defense Sousa, who is recovering from a head injury at the moment. The doctors are keeping him in a medically induced coma for at least a few days, until they can be sure he won’t aggravate anything, but he should make a full recovery. Doctor Pym and Colonel Stoner are recovering from gunshots, but thankfully neither were alone at the time, and they will survive. Several- several civilians were also killed in the crossfire.” The woman’s knuckles turned white, and May drew a sharp breath. Someone close to Peggy must have been killed. Daisy wasn’t sure whether to offer condolences or a gun. “Now that… now that I’m the Director, John Flynn will be my Deputy, as Agent Sousa is both incapacitated at the moment and was deemed unsuitable for the role by Director Phillips and President Johnson. This has not been an easy day, but we carry on. I want every last HYDRA agent dead, is that understood?”
Across the table from her, a huge grin was splitting Flynn’s ugly-ass face. Daisy had never wanted to punch him more. If Daniel hadn’t punched that cop… but no, she couldn’t dwell. He was alive, that’s what mattered. And she couldn’t blame him, she’d have punched the cop too if he hadn’t beaten her to it. Hell, she wanted to punch Flynn right now. The asshole opened his mouth, but Peggy fixed him with a terrifying, watery-eyed glare.
“I said , is that understood?”
“Yes ma’am,” the assembled agents chorused.
“Good. HYDRA coordinated an attack against our leadership. We’re going to return the favor. Everyone get the fuck back to work. I want detailed plans for an all-out assault within the next six months. This time next year, the remaining Heads of HYDRA are to be dead or captured. Or we will be.”
December 9, 1964
Peggy pursed her lips, debating the next of many difficult decisions she had to make. The past few weeks had been full of them. Her husband was dead. Chester Phillips was dead. Timothy Dugan was dead. Her children would have to live the rest of their lives without a father, and without a man they’d grown up calling their uncle. She was the director of SHIELD now, and had to appoint John Flynn as the deputy to avoid seeming too radical, and losing the support of the old, bigoted, barely-competent white men who still made up far more of SHIELD’s personnel than she’d like. In the weeks since she’d become director, she’d buried a dear friend and the love of her life, and almost had to bury another. At least Daniel had pulled through.
But this? This was far from easy either. She was in charge now, which meant there was no higher authority to refer to. She’d have to figure this out on her own- and Daniel could never know. That, she was certain of. He’d never forgive her if he learned. She’d never condoned Phillips’ experiments with mind control, but she’d allowed it. She could’ve done more. At least four human beings that she knew of were out there, right now, spying for SHIELD within HYDRA. Brainwashed to do SHIELD’s bidding, just like HYDRA had brainwashed Bucky, and the Red Room had brainwashed so many Widows. Like Daisy had been subjected to in the future. Like Fennhoff had done to Yauch, Dooley, and Daniel. No, Daniel would never forgive her for letting it go on this far. He was too devoted to his wife, and too far removed from hard decisions. Peggy had tried to keep her own moral compass aligned, but she was in the upper echelons of a spy agency. She’d said and done far worse things than brainwashing four Nazis.
She had a choice now: give up a weapon in a war for the world’s very survival, or allow four of SHIELD’s most valuable spies to just… keep doing what they’d been doing. She knew she couldn’t possibly subject anyone else to this process. If it wasn’t torture, it was too close for her comfort. The fact that Howard had allowed it too left a sick taste in her mouth, and she didn’t want to think too deeply about what her once-respected friend and colleague, Chester Phillips, had become. The lead poisoning was a comfort in that sense. There was a reason he’d been so cruel and vindictive in recent years. But Howard had no excuse. He just had never learned to tell the difference between a problem he couldn’t and shouldn’t solve. He was a child, still, after all these years, incapable of leaving well enough alone. The Tesseract was proof enough of that- although at least making weapons from it was no different than using any other high-caliber gun. It didn’t tear away free will. Hell, it had saved Stark, Thompson, and Jarvis.
After what felt like hours, Peggy made the only choice she could. This was SHIELD. They existed to protect the public from dangerous technology. To lock away what could or should not be understood. So Peggy locked away the files. She locked away the tapes, the instructions, the board that Phillips’ victims were lashed to. She left the agents in the field, kept their programming in place. She would be their handler personally. There was no other choice on that front. But no one else would undergo the Faustus Method again. It would be locked in the deepest of SHIELD vaults, alongside all the other horrible things they’d taken from HYDRA over the years. It was the only way forward. So why did she feel so ashamed of what she’d done?
February 20, 1965
Daniel grinned at her from his perch on the edge of their new couch, with a cat curled up in his lap. He’d fully recovered from the wounds HYDRA’s assassins had inflicted, and the couple had both been lucky enough to end up with nothing worse than a few new scars. It had been terrifyingly touch-and-go for a couple hours, but once a blood transfusion got started and some shrapnel was dug out of his chest, Daniel had stabilized and quickly recovered after that.
The reshuffling of SHIELD’s leadership, and the loss of STRIKE’s former base, had gotten them both reassigned to Camp Lehigh. Thankfully, finally, they were able to move up North. With the New York City fiscal crisis on the near horizon, Daisy had suggested they move to the suburbs instead of staying in the city itself. Neither of them had been particularly happy about it, but they’d found a house in Bergen County that had already been accessible, and adopted an absolutely adorable tabby named Hank in the days before their move. Next to Daniel and the cat were Daisy’s nine and five year old nephews, Danny and Frank, both focused on the sleeping cat. Seeing the moving box in her hands, Daniel frowned apologetically.
“I wish I could help, honey, I-”
“Hush. Play with the cat. We’ve got this.” He opened his mouth to protest again, but was interrupted by the nephew who’d been named for him, asking some question that Daisy didn’t have the chance to hear before she stepped into the next room. Two of her husband’s siblings were waiting for her there, adjusting a shelf into a corner. Daisy set the box down with a huff. “Thank you both for helping, really.”
“You can thank us with dinner. And Daniel’s babysitting, that’s a huge load off,” Ben said with a laugh.
“Now that you’re living up here, we might have to leave some of the kids with you more often,” Camila added. Ben smiled at his sister, but Daisy’s stomach churned.
“I, uh… I don’t want to make you targets. You guys know what happened, Daniel barely got out alive.” She loved her nieces and nephews, but Daisy knew far too well how easy it was for loved ones to get caught in crossfires.
“And you kept him safe. My children are safer with SHIELD’s finest than they are at home with me,” Ben said gently. It was hard to argue with that, so Daisy didn’t. Over the course of an afternoon, the three of them finished unloading the rented truck, unpacked a few boxes and pieces of furniture. Daniel and the boys pitched in wherever they could, while Hank purred and scratched at people’s ankles. Daisy found herself smiling far more than she had been these past months, seeing her husband alive and well, doting on his nephews. They were both content without children of their own, but were happy to have kids around to spoil regardless.
The two SHIELD agents regaled the kids with their least depressing, most badass stories over takeout. After dinner, Frank eventually passed out on the couch, Hank choosing to shape himself into a loaf on his chest and fall asleep too. It took another two hours before Ben pried his son awake from his namesake, despite Danny’s begging for more tales of SHIELD, and finally declared they had to get home to the rest of his family. Camila took her leave not long after that, with Daisy carrying a still-sleeping Frank to the car.
Just before Daisy fell asleep later that night, with a cat and a husband next to her, she realized that it had been years since she’d feared the fact that she felt at home. At some point, she’d stopped dreading it, and just allowed herself to live. She drifted off to sleep with a smile, content.
Notes:
I'm curious how long (if at all) you guys thought Daniel was dead for lmao. Did I have anyone fooled?
Chapters 27 and 28 are both going to take place on the same day, and they're both super short. I've gotten them written already, and I'm considering just combining them, which would bring the total chapter count back down to 47. Any particular opinions?
The brainwashing plot will quite literally be shelved for a bit, it'll come back as part of Part II. Consequences are not going to be escaped that easily.
Comments always make me happy!
Chapter 27
Notes:
COPIOUS author's notes are at the end of this chapter, and in the comments. This is the last major plot chapter for part one, so there's a lot to discuss.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
July 2, 1965
Daisy had no idea how terrifying Peggy Carter could be until she was truly out for blood. It took months to piece the story together, but eventually, she learned that Carter’s husband had taken a bullet meant for her during HYDRA’s wave of assassinations. No one from SHIELD was invited to the funeral. Daisy didn’t even know the man’s name, they’d never met. Peggy never asked for pity or grief from those around her, even when she was entitled to it. She simply threw herself into tearing HYDRA out, root and stem. The war had become brutal and uncompromising, dragging on for months of bloody combat. It had become obvious, quickly, that Peggy had HYDRA on the backfoot. STRIKE was moved to Camp Lehigh full-time, training and running ops in equal measure. Finally, just a week ago, Daisy had been given a new set of orders. The provenance of the information was need-to-know, but they’d found out where the remaining Heads of HYDRA were hiding. For her forty-first birthday, she’d get to bring Werner Reinhardt, bane of her existence, into SHIELD custody. Again. Because that had worked out so well the last time- last two times, if you counted the original timeline.
She would’ve given anything to be the one to go after Malick, but at the end of the day, Reinhardt was more important. SHIELD couldn’t afford to give Malick a chance to escape by letting him know they were on to them. If Malick and Zola were really hiding out together, then the other half of STRIKE could handle them. She trusted her people. Barnes, Morozova, and a dozen of her other trusted agents, alongside Gabe Jones, could clear out one lousy HYDRA base. It was odd that Jim Morita had chosen to stay with her contingent, rather than going with the other Howling Commandos. Daisy had always known he was Peggy’s eyes and ears in STRIKE, even if there really wasn’t anything to report on. Daisy was pretty boring, all things considered. She didn’t mind having an informant in her midst if he did his job, and Morita was a damn good agent. She trusted him to have her back. It wasn’t like he was dis loyal to her, he was just more loyal to Peggy, and Carter clearly wanted to know what she was about to do to Reinhardt.
She was far more concerned about what Yossi was going to do. Her fear and hatred towards Reinhardt were based entirely on what-ifs and alternate timelines; her friend’s were derived from actual trauma. Before their half of STRIKE left Camp Lehigh, she pulled Friedman aside in an empty hallway.
“Officially, we’re supposed to capture him. Unofficially? He has to die.” Daisy didn’t hesitate or mince words. She’d made the mistake of sparing HYDRA agents too many times. Her life would be so much simpler if she’d just let Mike Peterson kill Ward on the Bus. Yossi sighed, rubbing at his sinuses, before looking at her with something like pity. His voice was thick when he finally spoke.
“My mother, Rivkeh, was a seamstress. She had warm eyes and always smelled like cholent and challah on the weekends. My father, Mendl, was a shoykhet , a Kosher butcher. He had an almost comically massive beard. He wasn’t a very affectionate person, but he loved his family dearly. My sister, God, she was only twenty when the war started. Her name was Rokhl. She was an organizer for some political youth groups. They were all the rage back then, I won’t bore you with explanations of Jewish politics. She was young, and idealistic, and the best person I’ve ever known. And I can’t remember their faces anymore. When the Germans invaded, and I got called in, we all knew we were going to lose. My father hugged me, wished me well, and said goodbye. My mother kept fussing over the buttons on my uniform. I thought then we’d never see each other again, but I was wrong. I saw their bodies when Reinhardt was done with them. I don’t care about the pain of his experiments. It was nothing compared to seeing that. To knowing they died because of me, because of him . I don’t remember my father’s face, I just remember what his decomposing corpse smelled like. So I appreciate it, but I was going to shoot him no matter what your orders were.” Daisy nodded. She could respect a little insubordination for a good reason.
“Thanks for the honesty, at least. Is this something you… feel the need to do yourself?”
“I don’t care who does it, as long as he’s dead. Wherever he goes, death follows. It’s past time to put an end to all this.”
Storming the base was simple after that. A dozen of SHIELD’s finest, with support from another fifty, against thirty crack HYDRA agents. The poor bastards never stood a chance. HYDRA’s base was nestled into a valley in the Andes, in Northern Peru. HYDRA had dug a tunnel into the mountain, and the intel from Carter indicated there was a fully stocked hangar, complete with stolen Quinjets. Even if she hadn’t been warned that the gravitonium weapon was on site, Daisy would’ve sensed it on approach. Even as her own Quinjet circled above the mountain, she could sense the roiling, barely-contained power of the element deep inside the base. It called out to her, but she could ignore its call. Daisy had spent months honing her already-impressive control over her powers. They could afford no mistakes, and she would allow for none. She’d passed up missions before because of her fear of the stuff. This mission didn’t have such a generous margin for error. If she could avoid it- and she intended to- there would be no powers on this mission. She wasn’t even wearing her gauntlets, so there was no wiggle room for her cover story to work.
Anti-air defenses fired at SHIELD’s quinjets as they descended, bearing down on their landing site. It was barely more than a spit of dirt outside a heavily reinforced door. A few Stark Industries missiles took care of the AA guns, and a shot from a quinjet-mounted, tesseract-powered cannon made short work of the door. Daisy hadn’t been in New York when the Chitauri attacked, but she knew too many people who were- hell, Coulson had died in the lead up to the battle. She knew what the Tesseract was, and how dangerous it was. Even without the possibility of a Chitauri invasion, Thanos wanted the Infinity Stones. But that problem was far in the future, and for now, she’d failed to convince Carter to shut down Stark’s research on it. Using the same weapons as HYDRA made her feel dirty, but she wasn’t arrogant enough to risk her team’s lives by not using the tools at her disposal. Maybe that made her a bad person, maybe not. After today, she could and would try her damndest to shut the program down. Right now, she needed that door open.
As soon as the troops had landed, Daisy’s team swept through the base, killing and capturing HYDRA’s agents with efficiency. SHIELD had a map, the source of which was also need-to-know, and quickly made its way to the hangar. It was the only other way in or out of the base, and there were too many AA guns guarding it for it to be covered by SHIELD aircraft. Within fifteen minutes of landing, STRIKE had reached the entrance to the hangar: a simple set of wooden double doors.
With Friedman and Kanoffsky flanking her, she kicked down the door, rifle raised to her shoulder, prepared for whatever she might find. Even then, she couldn’t suppress a chill of fear. All her worst nightmares were combined in the hangar. On the left, three HYDRA agents surrounded a mechanical device the size of a small horse, covered in protruding knobs, buttons, lights, and tubes. It was- thank god- off, but it was obviously the gravitonium-controlling device HYDRA had used on the Playground. That would have been obvious even if she couldn’t sense the sentient metal inside. Daisy and her team, all having gone through May’s training, started their sweep on the left of the hangar. They knew their objectives, and what the greatest threat here was. Daisy, Yossi, and Hanna fired as soon as they saw the technicians. Three shots, and three bodies crumpled to the deck.
To the right, just inside the ramp of a Quinjet with its engines running, was their target. Werner Reinhardt, dressed in a fancy three-piece suit as if he wasn’t holding a gun, with the same small smile that haunted her nightmares. Daisy’s team didn’t bother giving Reinhardt a chance to surrender, not when he had a pistol aimed at her. Her people were fiercely loyal, even Jim, regardless of what information he fed to Peggy. They’d all saved each other’s lives too many times, lost too many friends together, not to be. Unsurprisingly, Yossi had the itchiest trigger finger. Before anyone else could react, the crack of a single gunshot rang out in the hangar, echoing off the walls. Daisy didn’t need to use her vibrations to know who’d taken the shot. They knew what this meant to him. Reinhardt hissed in pain, clutching at a spot just above his heart. Blood was already seeping through his fingers. He hissed something in German that Daisy couldn’t understand. Yossi replied in the same language, and Kanoffsky snorted with laughter. His pained grimace shifted to a sneer, and Reinhardt angled his left hand, still clutching the gun, to aim at Daisy and her team. He fired several shots in rapid succession, forcing them to duck for cover.
“I’m sorry we couldn’t finish our conversations, my friend. But I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon,” he called out between gunshots.
“I’ll be the last face you ever see.”
“Come now, I thought we’d finally reached a point where we could be honest with each other. How is your husband faring from the wounds my men dealt him? Better than Jiaying, I assume?”
“Fuck you!”
“How disappointingly bland. Wilfred told me you’re infamous for your banter! Do I really have the honor of rendering you nearly speechless?” He did, but Daisy was never going to admit that his cold, cruel eyes left her too terrified to be snarky. Instead, she just blindly shot in his general direction, still pinned down by bullets. Even with her sixth sense to guide her, she knew scoring a hit was a long shot. By the time the shots had lessened and she ducked back out of cover, Reinhardt was out of sight, and the Quinjet’s ramp was closing rapidly. She fired at the plane, the others quickly joining, but too soon it was taking off, scuffed and dented but undamaged. Daisy bit back a curse, but Friedman had no such restraint.
“ Kurwa mać! That piece of shit’s going to escape! Yemakh-shmoy. ”
“He’s going to bleed out in ten minutes with a wound like that. Even if he doesn’t, our jets can catch up with him as soon as he’s out of range,” offered Fernandez, by way of sympathy.
“That’s not fucking good enough! He’s a doctor, he can patch himself up. And the jet’s probably got cloaking. I shouldn’t have missed,” Yossi snarled at the younger agent, causing Fernandez to back away and shut up. Daisy might not be snapping at people who didn’t deserve it, but she was freaking the fuck out too. His survival wasn’t something she could leave to chance. Desperately scanning the room for something that might help, she got a truly terrible idea.
“He won’t escape. Trust me, okay?” Without waiting for a response, Daisy ran over to the gravitonium device. Praying she didn’t blow anything up, she absently fidgeted with the controls, pretending to try to make it work, while she stretched out with her senses towards the rapidly escaping Quinjet.
-
He was lightheaded, covered in hot, sticky blood, and alone, but Werner could have cackled with joy. Yes, he was bleeding profusely from a wound in his chest, but he’d made it out. HYDRA had fallen, except for him. He was in the perfect position to rebuild it the way he wanted, to get the power he deserved. Daisy Johnson was a magnificent warrior, even without her powers. He was eager to see what she could do with them- what he would be able to do with them. His Quinjet was cloaked, and could go anywhere on Earth, hide him, bide his time until he could strike. It was a setback, but not an impossible one. He was free- until the Quinjet began to shake. At first, he mistook it for the tremor of the engine, or a tremor from blood loss. But it continued growing, and after a few moments, he had no choice but to accept the truth. Daisy Johnson was about to kill him.
When the shaking grew to a crescendo and the plane finally exploded into each of its components, Werner was left suspended in midair. For one glorious moment, he was flying, as all men dream of doing. He’d finally done it. He had true power. The pain of his shoulder was forgotten, how could it not be? He felt free: the wind was in his hair, the Earth itself at his feet. A small city gleamed in the distance, silver and gold against cerulean sky. Mountains and jungle stretched on forever, each in their own direction. Everything was perfect, for a fraction of a second. It was only as the ground rushed up to meet him that it all fell apart. The gentle caress of the wind began to bite, driving cold into his bones. Or maybe that was the blood loss, the trail of red droplets floating behind him as he fell. Debris from the plane tore at his skin, adding to the blood. The gaping hole in his shoulder ached and burned as he flailed senselessly, but he couldn’t control himself enough to stop moving. His glasses were torn from his face, and Werner was left blind to the beauty of the world, seeing only blue-white-green-grey-brown rush by each other in rapid succession. With each passing second, the blue-white shrunk, and the green-grey-brown grew larger. In his last instant of thought before he hit the ground, he realized that he’d made a terrible mistake.
In his quest for discovery, Werner had forgotten the warnings left by explorers of old in the empty swathes of maps. Beyond the line between known and unknown, maps had once reminded would-be adventurers: here there be dragons. He had ignored the perils of pushing the boundaries of science, and was paying for his arrogance now. He was Icarus, not Daedalus, all along. Only then did he plummet into the earth, and Werner Reinhardt thought no more.
-
Bucky was in charge, and he didn’t know how to feel about it. He’d been with STRIKE for nearly a year now, had gained the trust of most of its other members, and had Jim and Liz to back him up. On this mission, while Jim wouldn’t be with him, Gabe would. Even with his old friend around, who was used to taking orders from him, it felt strange to be in a leadership role. Peg had given STRIKE two targets: Reinhardt’s base in the Andes, and Zola and Malick’s in the Canadian wilderness. While Louise (or Daisy, whatever) went after one crazy scientist, she’d put him in charge of the splinter team going after the other. In fairness, Bucky didn’t have sole authority- Colonel Stoner, apparently a close friend to the Sousas, was leading a contingent of regular SHIELD agents.
He was as prepared as he possibly could be, ready to deliver a killing blow to the organization that had ruined his life, but something still felt off. He was free of HYDRA’s control, had reunited with his friends and family, and Steve’s shield adorned his arm instead of the Soviets’ star. He was his own man again, and had used his powers for good. How many lives had he saved in the last year? How many missions went more smoothly because of the presence of a super soldier? Despite the knowledge that he was doing good work, he hated every second of it. War had never agreed with him. He’d been drafted, all those years ago, even though he told Steve he’d enlisted. He hated fighting, he hated killing, and he hated how good at it he was. Even so, he had a job to do.
He couldn’t call himself a pacifist, or stand aside when he knew he could save lives by fighting. Even before his capture, Bucky had been a fantastic shot, and an incredible soldier. Now, his freedom depended on continuing the war he’d started fighting decades ago. The terms of his pardon obligated him to stay with SHIELD at least until HYDRA was defeated. The sooner they won this fight, the sooner he could retire. Bucky wasn’t exactly sure what he’d do for a living once he retired, or who would hire the man who’d shot the president, but he’d figure something out. Even helping train SHIELD agents would be nice. Malick and Zola were all that stood in his way.
So Bucky carved a bloody trail to his targets. He shot, stabbed, punched, and threw HYDRA agents, moving so quickly that his teammates could barely run fast enough to keep up with him. HYDRA had trained him, and he’d lead too many missions for them. He knew how they fought, the strengths and weaknesses of their protocols and training. Up against a super soldier, it was almost all weaknesses. Some of these agents were no doubt old enough to have fought in the War, fought against him and Steve. The older ones threw down their weapons quicker than the rest. Bucky might not have been wearing his trademark blue jacket from the war, but he was unmistakable nonetheless. His black STRIKE tac suit was modified from the norm, sleeveless on the left side to display his metal arm, and the shield painted onto its shoulder. Like all of STRIKE, he had the stars-and-eagle emblem on his clothed shoulder and chest, but only he and Jim had the Howling Commandos’ golden wing below it. Few people were stupid enough to fight a super soldier just to prolong a war they were losing. One by one, his opposition died or were subdued, and he was punching down the door to the Heads’ office.
Malick and Zola were both sitting in chairs, on opposite sides of the room, with three HYDRA agents between them, guns aimed at the door. Bucky caught a bullet on his metal palm, even as a shot from Gabe killed the guard who was stupid enough to try and kill him. His eyes narrowed, and the remaining two guards immediately threw down their weapons. He idly wondered how many of the agents in this base had seen the Winter Soldier before. If they feared Bucky, or what he’d used to be. Bucky wasn’t quite sure which was worse. With no protection, Malick was quickly restrained into handcuffs, but a ring of agents stayed a few feet back from Zola. A pistol was only inches from his hand, on a small table alongside a half-drained glass of whiskey. If Zola wanted to, he could likely kill somebody before he was captured. Gabe, among the agents who had a gun pointed at the scientist’s chest, looked delighted about the situation they’d found themselves in.
“This feels familiar, Doctor Zola.” Gabe drawled with a smirk on his face. Zola made no move for the gun beside him, and did not reply to Jones, instead reciting what Bucky had fully anticipated, yet dreaded all the same.
“ Zhelaniye. Rzhavyy. Semnadstat. ” Bucky didn’t allow himself to flinch, cutting the man off before he could continue.
“I’ve been cured, Zola. You’re wasting your breath.” The scientist studied his face for a moment before nodding in acceptance.
“So I am. You did such good work with HYDRA, Sergeant Barnes. It was a shame to lose my life’s work. In a sense, you are the only child I will ever have. I made you what you are. Gave you the serum in your veins, gave you your arm. Saved your life when my men peeled you off the bottom of that canyon. Used you to make the world a better, stronger place.”
“You turned me into an assassin and made me kill my friends, all so you could enact your cartoonishly evil plans.”
“You of all people should know what HYDRA truly stands for. Painting a shield on your arm won’t erase the things you’ve done, nor should it. You should be proud.”
“Oh, I know exactly what you are. And that’s why you’re going to rot in a cell for the rest of your life. Surrender, and no one else needs to die today.”
“I think not, my friend.” The scientist scrambled for his pistol, but Bucky was faster, thanks to the serum that Zola himself had created. A bullet pierced his heart, and the gun slipped from Zola’s fingers. Gabe grinned fiercely, and the team quickly moved to secure the body and verify Zola’s death. It was quickly confirmed that the scientist had, in fact, been killed instantly. Bucky carried out the remainder of the mission efficiently, but it seemed to him that he was outside of his body for most of it. Despite a dozen slaps on the back, handshakes, and congratulations, none of it felt right. Zola had absolutely deserved to die, but Bucky wished he hadn’t had to pull the trigger. Later, as they were preparing to depart the secured base, Liz squeezed his flesh shoulder and reminded him that he was free. Kanoffsky had gone with Friedman and Louise’s team, leaving the two of them as the only former assassins in the group. Her expression was carefully neutral, but her eyes were concerned.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” He bit back, too quickly. His friend grimaced, but seemed to understand.
“You will never have to kill again.” That simple fact, more than anything else he’d done today, brought him relief.
-
Daniel took a seat across from his former boss in a cramped interrogation room. Barnes and Stoner had dropped Malick into his custody just a few minutes ago, to his delight. There wasn’t much they actually needed to learn from the traitor, not when HYDRA was leaderless and their files were all in SHIELD hands. This was more for his own edification than anything else.
“Agent Sousa,” Malick began. To his credit, even in a prisoner’s uniform, he managed to keep some semblance of dignity.
“Mister Malick.” Daniel barely kept the glee out of his voice.
“I see you’ve stolen my job.”
“My job wouldn’t need to exist if you hadn’t brought the Red Skull that serum,” he pointed out.
“I’d have thought you came to gloat, not to rehash my past triumphs.”
“You have no triumphs to speak of. I’ve come to tell you that this is the last time we’re going to see each other. According to my wife, you’ll be diagnosed with lymphoma in a few years, and be dead in 1970. You’ll be spending the next five years locked away in the Rat’s worst cell, with the knowledge that your life’s work is a failure. HYDRA is dead because of you . Your mistakes caused this. Your alliance with the Chronicoms. You thought offing me would solve your problems. You were stupid enough to try it twice, actually.” With every word, Malick’s anger grew, his face darkening and his grin deepening.
“We couldn’t have predicted your life would be saved by SHIELD agents from the future!” He shouted. The guards outside were probably very confused by that statement. Daniel doubted the secret could be kept forever, not after all that had happened, but it was still worth trying. Daisy and May were normal SHIELD agents, despite their high status, and he knew how much that meant to them. Even if they weren’t brutally interrogated for knowledge of the future, now that the timeline had changed so much, they’d never be able to live a normal life again. Daisy didn’t want that, and he would make sure she got what she wanted, what she deserved. So instead of giving a real response to that statement, he kept pissing off the loathsome man in front of him.
“You failed in their timeline too. Both your sons dead, your granddaughter dead, all because of your devotion to Hive and HYDRA. Now he’s stuck on Maveth, and the Monolith is destroyed. Thousands of years of worship from your family, and you were the one who dropped the ball,” Daniel taunted
“I’ll tell them the truth! I’ll tell them all who Johnson really is! I’ll give SHIELD everything it needs to destroy itself!”
“The ravings of an old, spiteful, defeated lunatic. My agents will be forgiven for not taking them all that seriously.”
“You’re making a mistake. You could’ve been such an asset to HYDRA. I’d have read you in if you weren’t such an uptight bastard. You could’ve had everything you ever wanted.” Malick almost sounded disappointed. Daniel didn’t care.
“I already do. Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s my wife’s birthday, and we have quite a lot to celebrate.” Daniel stood up, smirking at his former boss, and limped to the door. He knocked, and took particular satisfaction in the sound of each of the heavy bolts that had to be thrown open by the guard to let him out. Once the door was open, and Daniel was standing in the threshold, he turned back towards Malick. The old man was staring at him with impotent rage, still seated at the desk. Someone would come drag him away to his cell soon enough. Daniel inclined his head in a mockery of respect, and turned to leave, unwilling and unable to stop himself from smirking.
Notes:
This is the end of the main plot for Part One! The next two chapters will be spaced out by a couple years and mostly just fill in blanks, flesh out characters, tie off some loose ends, and be a bit of fluff. Many threads got wrapped up here, so I figured I should comment on some of them.
First and most obviously, Daisy and Reinhardt/Whitehall’s conflict. He’s never been a real threat to her, but she mostly remembers two things about Whitehall from the original timeline: he shattered Jiaying’s mind, and threatened her when she was powerless. He’s also just got a vibe that scares her shitless. She’s known that if he ever gets free, he’ll obsess over butchering her until she’s dead one way or another. Daisy’s been scared of him for ages, obviously, and he’s finally gotten himself killed. So that’s a relief for her. To clarify, the GSW would absolutely have killed him. He’d have bled out at some point. The Reinhardt POV section is supposed to be somewhat disjointed and not super logical, that’s due to the blood loss. All narrators in this fic are unreliable, if that wasn’t already clear. There’s no 3rd person omniscient. People can and do fuck up and make incorrect judgements. Fernandez here is the voice of the author, so to speak. If Daisy had done nothing, the jet would’ve cloaked, escaped, and crashed after like five-ten minutes when he passes out on the controls. But she and Yossi both needed to be sure.
The Gravitonium! That started as pure chance, just because I needed some random 084 for Daisy to avoid going after. It grew and grew into this whole thing and eventually ended up filling out some other parts of the outline, until we reached the moment when Daisy finally recaptures it. She’s now fixed her ‘mistake’ (although I am her defense attorney and she did nothing wrong) as well as faced another fear from her past, Talbot. In the heat of the moment, she was able to use her powers around it without breaking the world in two. SHIELD is now going to lock the machine away somewhere, or maybe launch it into the sun for real.
Yossi is… complicated. He started off as a very simple concept: a SHIELD agent OC who hated HYDRA so much that he couldn’t possibly be a traitor, to supplement the original team of Daisy, May, Sousa, and a couple Howling Commandos. I wanted to avoid the easy way out, of the Hercules team from the first ten or so chapters only being CATFA and Agent Carter characters, for a number of reasons. From that very basic concept, I filled out his character just with what was logical. Someone who’d been subjected to Reinhardt’s experiments would hate HYDRA more than anyone else, and when HYDRA was affiliated with the Nazis still, they’d have done most of their testing on Jews and POWs. So I made him both, although I’d already wanted a WWII vet so the whole team had combat experience to some degree. Everything else just kind of fell into place after that, with blanks filled as needed. He’s a very traumatized person for obvious reasons, and joined the SSR in the first place to get back at HYDRA. He’s now achieved that goal. It was important that both his victim (Yossi) and his main target (Daisy) get a chance to kill Reinhardt, so I made Friedman deliver a blow that would have been fatal anyway if Daisy hadn’t destroyed the Quinjet. He can breathe a little easier now, and the lesbian he’s adopted won’t have to meet his sister’s fate. I’m sure there’s a TLOU connection here somewhere. I’d toyed with making Yossi gay (possibly having lost a bf instead of or in addition to his family), but that would’ve just been trauma porn at that point, so instead he’s ace. For the record, I am Jewish, and most of Hanna + Yossi’s backstories (when it comes to the circumstances of their birth, not the sci-fi medical experimentation and brainwashing) is drawn from my own family history.
That reminds me, Takashima and Kanoffsky are 100% properly dating by this point. Not sure how I can fit it into the fic without giving one of them a POV chapter, but I like to think they’re ‘roommates’ who ‘don’t have time for dating since work is so busy’ and ‘would rather live with someone who has security clearance’. Maybe I’ll give them a one-shot at some point? Is that something people would give a shit about? Idk, I’m a lesbian (yes I know I’ve written 120k words of f/m fic, in my defense they’re bi4bi), I need to write about lesbians every so often or I’ll spontaneously combust. Natalie’s of the right age and background to have spent time in the Japanese Internment Camps, if she was from the west coast. I haven’t decided on which way I’d want to go with that, but either way, there’s plenty of emotions (™) to go into surrounding her relationship with America, a need to prove herself, and getting to serve in a unit led by another Asian woman. I wish I had more time to do these two justice.
(Continued in the comments)
Chapter 28
Notes:
Pretty short chapter this week, but we're winding down P1 so that's to be expected. Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate!
Chapter Text
September 25, 1968
HYDRA was gone. They’d keep a closer eye out this time, of course, but it was finally over. The organized structure had collapsed with the capture or death of its remaining leaders, and after that, all that had been left was three years of meticulous clean-up. A few more bases had needed to be wiped off the face of the Earth, and a few more moles rooted out. Some agents had found safe haven in Argentina or China from sympathetic governments desperate for their technology. Once HYDRA knew it had lost the fight, its remnants tried to slink back into hiding, but were dragged out of their caves kicking and screaming. Now, after a year without the slightest hint of activity, not even from the closely-surveilled relatives and associates of HYDRA’s known members, SHIELD could declare victory.
For once, the meeting Peggy had had to attend that morning wasn’t entirely focused on the war. After an hour of discussion and reports from SHIELD’s most skilled and high-ranking agents, who’d spent months reviewing intelligence from every source imaginable, they’d actually moved on to another topic . The fact that there was something other than HYDRA to discuss was hard to wrap her head around, but once Howard, Daniel, Flynn, and Peggy had all agreed that HYDRA was gone, they’d started discussing the plans for a new SHIELD headquarters in Washington DC. The Triskelion, it would be called. One of many new bases that would transform SHIELD from a paramilitary force into a peacekeeping one, if Peggy’s vision panned out. There were still so many dangerous artifacts and events that only SHIELD could keep under control. HYDRA wasn’t the only threat out there. They hadn’t been solely focused on HYDRA for all these years, of course, but it had taken up too much of SHIELD’s time and money.
Maybe things could return to normal now. Or at least as normal as things got for the Director of a supernaturally-focused spy agency. She left the meeting as it ended, with every intention of returning to her office to plan out the months ahead. But when Peggy entered her office, there was already someone sitting behind her desk.
“Hi, Dottie. I was wondering when you’d finally visit.”
“What can I say, I missed you.”
“Yes, your many… gifts of dead HYDRA operatives left that impression.”
“Can you blame a girl for being romantic? Flowers are so overdone.” Peggy sighed. She thought it might be something like that, but she couldn’t deny she was intrigued by the other woman. She’d been an enemy once, but she hadn’t harmed any SHIELD agents for a long time. And, oddly enough, Peggy considered her a friend. There was no harm in having drinks with a friend. Walking over to the stash of various alcohols she kept, Peggy poured herself a couple fingers of whisky.
“I can’t say it wasn’t appreciated. Vodka, I assume?”
“You always were a smart one, Peg.” Peggy poured the assassin her preferred drink, and they both moved to the two padded chairs and low table in a corner of her office. Dottie accepted the vodka with a smile that made her heart flutter, and took one of the seats. She wasn’t entirely sure the whisky wasn’t poisoned, but if Dottie wanted her dead, she could’ve shot her as soon as she walked in the door. No, they were equals, here for a friendly conversation. Peggy was lacking equals these days. They sat in silence for a few moments, both too well-trained for their eyes to leave the other, sipping at their drinks.
“Why are you here?”
“To congratulate you on taking down HYDRA, and to offer my help in any future endeavors.”
“That’s it? You snuck into SHIELD’s headquarters for a glorified greeting card?”
“Yup.”
Peggy’s eyes narrowed, and she leaned forward in her chair. She didn’t believe that at all . The Russian was hiding something.
“What do you want, Dottie? What do you really want, I mean. It’s been twenty-five years, and you won’t leave me alone. You could’ve toppled governments, gone freelance, refounded the Red Room yourself, joined HYDRA or SHIELD, defected to China. But you keep coming back to mess with me. Why?” Instead of answering, the other woman carefully set down her vodka, then moved faster than Peggy’s eye could follow. Before she knew it, the Russian was in her lap, lips centimeters away from hers, pupils blown wide. Peggy’s stomach was doing that fluttering thing again, and Dottie removing the glass from her grip with one hand while the other settled on her hip was not helping matters at all.
“You. I want you,” Dottie whispered. Peggy had been in her fair share of relationships over the years. Two had already ended in tragedy, two long-term relationships ended just because of incompatibility. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to focus on having some fun over building something steady, for once. So when her long-time rival leaned forward, closing the last amount of space between them, Peggy had absolutely no qualms about giving them both what they wanted.
“You’d better not be poisoning me this time,” Peggy mumbled into her mouth when they finally pulled apart enough to breathe.
“That was just business, Peg. This is for me.”
October 3, 1968
May and her daughter waited impatiently in Daisy’s living room, anxious for a long-overdue meeting. Aside from brief intelligence missives, they hadn’t spoken to the Chronicom in years. He’d called Daisy at home the day before, giving no explanation, except that he wanted to meet with the two of them alone. Exactly at 2pm, just as he’d promised, the doorbell finally rang.
“I think you’re going to have to get that, Daisy. Hank doesn’t seem to want to let me move.” Daisy rolled her eyes, but smiled fondly both at May and the cat that was fast asleep in her lap. The younger woman quickly opened the door, ushering Enoch inside. She didn’t even let him open his mouth before the interrogation started.
“HYDRA’s been basically dead for three years, and you’ve still said you were busy every time we wanted to check in. What’s going on? Are they back?” Enoch blinked slowly at her, exasperation clear even without the benefit of May’s powers. It was something of a relief to be around a being whose emotions couldn’t influence her.
“It is good to see you, Agent Johnson. And no, HYDRA has not returned. All my sources indicate they are truly exterminated. Well done. While the two of you have been molding this timeline, I have been ensuring the success of Leopold FItz’s plan. We will be able to return home.” May and her daughter exchanged glances, and the wave of emotions from Daisy was too complicated to sort out.
“Should we?” Daisy asked in a small voice, moving back to her seat on a plush chair. Enoch remained standing, and looked at her like she was an idiot. May remained silent, Daisy knew what questions to ask.
“Yes. It is imperative that the team return to two-zero-one-nine. The Chronicom force there must be defeated before they can eliminate the remains of SHIELD.”
“How does working in a bar ensure we can go home?” Daisy snapped.
“Do you still have the package I entrusted to you?”
“Yeah. It’s upstairs.” May had never opened the mysterious package Enoch had entrusted to Daisy, but knew of its existence, as did her son-in-law. Daisy had freaked out about it being lost if she died once, and insisted they both knew the false floorboard it was hidden under.
“Then my work was successful,” the Chronicom intoned. Neither human nor inhuman was satisfied with that answer.
“What aren’t you telling us?” May asked.
“Nothing you need to know is being hidden from you.”
“Are you gonna give us any more details or…” Daisy trailed off, staring pointedly at Enoch.
“I don’t believe so, no.”
“Anything else you’re not telling us?” Daisy asked again, just as futilely.
“Yes. You are old, Melinda May. At your age, humans must give serious consideration to their health.” May had never been so offended in her life. She hadn’t wanted to beat the shit out of a SHIELD asset this much since Phillips died.
“Excuse me?”
“If you die, the plan falls apart. Cancer, a heart attack, or falling down the stairs are severe dangers. You are sixty-eight years of age, this is quite dangerous.” Daisy cut in before May could go off on a tangent about how she was perfectly healthy , thank you, and didn’t look a day over sixty.
“Let me guess, you don’t get to explain why?” Daisy was doing an admirable job of keeping her frustration out of her voice, but May could sense it, and empathized in more ways than one.
“That is an accurate assumption.”
“You know, ‘not dying of cancer’ is already basically at the top of most humans’ agendas. What exactly are we supposed to do about it?” May pointed out.
"When the Zephyr returns, you must not linger here. A few years spent in this time instead of taking a shortcut could very well be the difference between life and death. At the end, when the plan is executed, you must be alive, well, and as young as possible.”
May felt a wave of sadness from Daisy so powerful that it almost made her knees give out, followed by the fear of loss and deep shame that were far too common in her daughter. This was clearly a conversation for another time. When Daisy felt ready, she could talk about it, but May already knew what she’d say. Her life since retiring from field work had been fulfilling, but it was nothing compared to what Daisy had built here. May had left relatives and friends behind, whereas Daisy had only left friends she’d been avoiding anyway. Daisy had a partner and a family, where May did not. Daisy was practically hiding from the government in the future, and openly making it better in the past. She’d known for years that Daisy would choose to stay behind when the team eventually returned. May had been content, if not excited, to stay with her. But if she couldn’t stay, and Daisy had too much to leave behind…
No. Not now. From the way Enoch was talking, they still had years. They’d built something good here, they’d saved the world. They’d gone from a mentor and mentee to mother and daughter, fought countless enemies, had each other’s backs against Nazis and SHIELD’s bureaucracy. Daisy had the mother she’d always wanted, May could sense her contentment when they were together. And May had the child she’d given up on dreaming of long before they’d been thrown into the past. Both women were happy, even if Daisy was far happier. So this conversation would wait, because they both knew what the other had to do. To Daisy, family was more important than anything, and she would feel too attached to what she’d accomplished in SHIELD to leave it behind. May would never forgive herself if she let a world-saving mission go FUBAR because she was too selfish to say goodbye. But no mother was ever truly ready to say goodbye to her child.
“I understand,” she said, refusing to meet her daughter’s eyes. They could pretend things were normal for a little longer. The tsunami of heartbreak that poured across the room was enough to bring tears to her eyes. The determination and understanding beneath it made May choke back a sob. Looking up, May saw only a blank mask on her usually expressive daughter’s face. Daisy knew that May had no choice but to leave, and she had every intention of facing their eventual farewell with stoicism and a SHIELD agent’s detachment, at least on the surface. She could respect that. If Daisy wanted to pretend that everything was fine until it was too late, and to practice the emotional control that May had spent so long teaching, then May could do the same. One day, they’d face reality together. But not now.
Chapter 29
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
April 8, 1971
“So what’s this Triskelion gonna be like?” Daniel asked his wife. Over three years of peace, SHIELD had begun a rapid expansion of bases, progress, and personnel. Several of the best ideas had been suggested by Daisy and May, and several of the most promising had similarly been axed at their prompting. The crown jewel of the expansion was to be the Triskelion, a massive building in DC that would serve as SHIELD’s all-purpose HQ, several years earlier than originally planned. Thankfully, Camp Lehigh would remain in use for several more decades, and they wouldn’t have to move. Again. That would get tiresome quickly.
After explaining the situation, Peggy had brought Daisy and May in on the planning sessions for the building, and Daisy was currently sitting in his office, feet on his desk, eating chips. His chips, from his lunch. That she’d stolen without so much as a by-your-leave. And Daniel, because he had no idea how to say no to his wife, he wasn’t even complaining, just diligently filing paperwork. He’d spent years being pissed at Flynn for snapping up the role of Deputy Director when it should’ve gone to Daisy, May, or even Jack or Rick, but now, he wasn’t nearly so mad. Sparing his friends the additional paperwork that would’ve come from such a promotion was for the best.
“You know, I’ve never actually been. They keep asking me for input, but I’ve mostly just been nodding along to whatever mom says. It’s honestly a little embarrassing how briefly I was with SHIELD before shit hit the fan. I spent a bit of time at The Hub before it fell, but most of my career was at the Playground, which you’re familiar with, or the Lighthouse…”
“Which you refuse to ever set foot in again.”
“Exactly,” Daisy said with a grin that never failed to make his stomach do backflips, even after all these years. He still had no idea how he’d gotten so lucky. “Come on, let’s go check out Operations. I think Alice starts today.” Daniel let himself be dragged along to Ops’ wing of Camp Lehigh, leaning more heavily on his cane than usual. Daisy cast him a worried glance, but he smiled placatingly. She seemed mollified, at least for the moment, but pulled his arm around her waist. Daniel didn’t mind at all. His age was slowly catching up with him, and his stump was hurting more with every passing year. Today was particularly bad, for a reason he hadn’t figured out yet. Daniel had little doubt that he would never again be able to work in the field.
They reached Operations without incident, earning countless nods and salutes from those who knew them, either by reputation or by having worked together in the past. The occasional STRIKE member often received a hug from Daisy, while other friends just got handshakes.
“Aunt Lou! Uncle Daniel!” Daniel turned at the familiar, Brooklyn-accented voice, and his smile widened when he saw his niece. Will’s twin girls both had the Sousas’ trademark dark curls, but with lighter hazel eyes rather than his brother’s brown dark. There was much of their mother in them, but the family resemblance was obvious. Alice was dressed in a SHIELD tac suit, minus the STRIKE branding he knew she was gunning for. Years of his, Jack’s, and Daisy’s stories had led her to join up with SHIELD. Rick assured him that she was one of Operations’ most promising agents, even without any nepotism. It was her first day out of training, and he’d been hoping to run into her. He extended his cane-free arm to give her a hug, but Daisy rushed forward, beating him to it. His niece and wife alike laughed when Alice, far taller than her aunt, picked Daisy up off the ground and squeezed. They drew a couple of stares, but most were fond. Those few who were confused quickly continued on with their business when they realized who it was. When Alice had put Daisy down, Daniel took the opportunity to hug his niece.
“Alice! I was hoping I’d see you today. How are you?”
“Exhausted. My boss is a hard-ass, but it’s worth it. And don’t you dare try to use any connections to get me moved,” she said, jabbing a finger at Daisy’s chest. Daniel’s wife raised her hands in surrender, smiling wryly.
“I wasn’t thinking about it, I promise. My mom probably is though. She trained you, right?” Alice answered with a grin Daniel saw far too often in the mirror, and on Will’s face growing up. She was going to be as much of a terror to keep in line as she had been as a toddler. Alice was one of those kids who took every opportunity to get into trouble, something that had become clear to Daniel despite the time he spent in hiding or on the other end of the country during the twins’ formative years. She hadn’t lost the habit.
“Your first lesson on being a spy was to never ask a question you don’t already know the answer to,” Alice said.
“That was your Uncle Ben’s first lesson on being a lawyer. It’s the third lesson on being a spy,” Daniel corrected.
“Ah, shit. I mean- shoot. What’s the first?”
“Learn when to keep your mouth shut and when to improvise,” Daisy replied. She slung an arm around Alice’s shoulder and looped her other around Daniel’s free elbow, leading them both to the mess. They’d barely taken ten steps when they’d run into yet another familiar face. Jack was leaning against a wall, scowling, but the glimmer in his eyes revealed his amusement.
“Christ, how many of you are going to join SHIELD? I can’t even call you Sousa anymore, say that name in a SHIELD facility and you’ll turn a half dozen heads,” he grumbled. Daniel rolled his eyes, easily returning the banter that had begun from genuine animosity and gradually developed into a friendship.
“Just three, Jack. Forgot you didn’t know how to count.”
“Shut up, Sous- Daniel. Fucking hell. You lot are impossible. I have no idea how she puts up with you.”
“Don’t speak like that in front of the kid,” Daniel retorted. He could feel Daisy silently shaking with laughter beside him, but Alice was just watching with vague amusement.
“I’ve been shit-talking you in front of Alice since she could barely walk, I don’t mean to stop now.”
“I could walk, Uncle Jack, I wasn’t a toddler,” Alice cut in. Daniel and his wife both looked to her in utter shock.
“Excuse me, Uncle ? You call this man uncle?” Daniel could hear his voice had gone up several octaves, but he didn’t care.
“...should I not?”
“Oh God, Peggy’s gonna kill me. How did I let this happen?” Daisy elbowed him in the side, as she often did when he got ‘too mopey’, as she put it. Daniel wasn’t completely serious, but it still felt undermining. It was a reminder of all he’d had to sacrifice to build his life, and to save SHIELD. Jack was an asshole, and he’d never begrudged the close bonds Thompson had formed with the Sousas while Daniel had been faking his death, but it still stung. He hadn’t quite been supplanted, but he’d certainly left a void that needed filling. He’d give almost anything to go back and change things- but he knew that wasn’t possible. He’d already gotten one do-over, chances like that didn’t come twice, nor should they. Besides, he was back now, had been for years. Jack being close with his siblings and their kids wasn’t the end of the world. Daniel wasn’t even jealous, just put off. He was more mature than that.
“You faked your death,” Thompson unhelpfully pointed out.
“ I faked his death,” Daisy corrected. Maybe she sensed the mood needed lightening, maybe she just wanted credit for her team’s hard work. Either way, he appreciated it.
“Whatever. I’m still mad at you both. No, I don’t care that it saved the world,” Jack bit out, but the venom was gone.
“Welcome to SHIELD, Alice. Is it everything you expected?” Daniel asked his niece.
“A Sousa family dinner with a lot more guns around and terrible outfits? Yeah, actually.”
Daisy grinned, and resumed leading them to the mess, this time with Jack in tow. Seeing how at ease she was, Daniel couldn’t suppress a smile. He remembered too well how stressed and worn down Daisy had been in her early months in this timeline, before she’d started to openly fight HYDRA, and even more so before they’d gotten together. The more years had gone by, the more she’d seemed to settle in. She’d done incredible things here, and had told him more than once she had no regrets about being stuck in the past.
Even so, he knew he could never ask her to stay. She had a world to save in 2019, and friends who he knew she still missed. She’d won the respect and love of many people, but many others still treated her like shit. Getting to see the Beatles live (and Daniel was really not happy about the band’s recent breakup) didn’t make up for having no civil rights, and saving one version of Earth didn’t make up for having another that needed you. No, he could never expect his wife to stay in the life they’d built together. They’d always known there was a time limit on their time with each other, although neither had ever liked to think about it. But Daniel had known for over a decade that he wasn’t ready to let Daisy Johnson go just yet. Whenever the Zephyr arrived, she’d be leaving. He’d made his peace with that, because he would be leaving with her. He had family and responsibilities here, but they’d been okay with out him before. They would be again. He hadn’t exactly told Daisy that yet, but he doubted she’d be surprised. They had their duties to SHIELD, but their first was to each other. He knew it, she knew it, and so he’d be going with her to the future. What was one more crazy-ass adventure if he had Daisy with him?
June 19, 1971
Bucky was in the midst of a perfectly calm, perfectly nice meal with Peggy when he came to a sobering realization.
“You’ve got two kids, right Peg?”
“Yes, I do.” She spoke slowly, as if wondering why one of her closest friends would ask such a stupid question.
“I just realized I don’t even know their names, and I’ve been back for years. I’ve never met them. Howard let me meet his kid. What’s up with that?” Peggy turned bright red, stammering over her words uncharacteristically.
“Um. Their names are, ah. Steve and James.” Bucky stared for a moment before cackling wildly. His friend only grew more embarrassed as his laughter showed no sign of winding down.
“You’re fucking with me.”
“I sincerely wish I was.” Peggy only reddened further at the accidental innuendo, and Bucky had to release his grip on his glass of water before he shattered it.
“What did their father think?” Peggy quickly sobered. She didn’t often talk about her late husband, preferring to go on about a former Widow who she was definitely just friends with. Bucky knew the feeling well.
“He was completely in agreement, the Commandos saved his life during the war. But enough about me, how have you been?” The two old friends met for meals often, now that Bucky wasn’t working with SHIELD anymore, but he was far more quiet than she. They spent more time discussing their fallen friends than they did Bucky’s own life. Fuck, he missed Dugan. And Steve. He groaned dramatically, flexing his flesh arm, and rubbing at the inside of his elbow.
“The Pentagon’s taken so much blood over the years they could start a fucking clinic.”
“I think that is the intention,” she mused. He’d heard the tale of Steve’s blood, and Howard’s bullshit.
“Great. More super soldiers. Just what we need,” he grumbled. One was more than enough, but Bucky was loathe to anger the government and get his pardon revoked.
“Dr. Erskine’s idea was always to make an army,” Peggy reminded him. “Steve was only supposed to be the first. A test.”
“Steve wasn’t an army, he did just fine,” he snapped.
“Steve is frozen in ice, lost in Greenland.”
“And I’m not him!” Peggy glanced down at the fork in his hand, and Bucky followed her gaze. The metal was warped, bent to the shape of his fingers. He dropped the offending utensil, rubbing at his sinuses instead. Ever since he’d gone from being public enemy #1 to a great hero, SHIELD and the military had been trying to get him to be something he wasn’t. Bucky had done his time, he wanted a calm retirement.
“If you said the word, Bucky, you could be the next Captain America-”
“No. That’s not true, and even if it was, I don’t want it.” His tone must have been firm enough to leave no room for argument, because Peggy just sighed and changed the subject.
“How’s Liz?” Shit, she knew him well. He had to fight to keep the smile off his face, and to keep the scowl on it.
“She’s good. Thinking about retiring from the field, joining my early retirement.”
“You deserve it, Bucky.”
“Maybe, but if anyone would hire me, I wouldn’t be sitting on my ass all day.” He might have been slightly exaggerating. He wasn’t exactly filing resumes left and right, it was more of a gut feeling. Regardless, it certainly felt like doing nothing after 25 years of nothing but combat. He was still getting used to the whole ‘regular civilian’ thing. It was nice, though.
“Aren’t you writing memoirs?”
“Yeah, but that’s boring too. Anyway, if she leaves the field, we’ll found some sort of business.”
“You’ve talked about this?” Peggy raised a sculpted eyebrow, and Bucky just rolled his eyes. What kind of presumptuous idiot did she think he was? Actually… he had flirted with her the first time they met. Terribly. Maybe she had a point.
“Of course, neither of us are exactly fond of others dictating how our lives go.” His friend nodded her understanding, before making the offer he’d been expecting.
“You’re always welcome to work for SHIELD, even if it’s outside of the field. Both of you are.” He smiled, but neither he nor Liz had really made a decision about that yet, so he changed the subject too.
“Thanks, Peg. I’ll think about it. How’s your former Widow?” Bucky’s grin widened into a truly genuine one when Peggy blushed tomato-red from her neck to her forehead.
“I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Her tone was strained, and she took a rather conspicuous sip of water. She truly was a terrible liar sometimes.
“Naturally. Just like Thompson’s only entanglement is his marriage to your friend Angie, and her only one is to him.”
“Naturally,” Peggy replied, managing to sound nonplussed, and to hide her surprise. Seriously, just because Bucky was hot didn’t mean he was blind, or stupid. Most of the time.
September 4, 1971
Daisy knew she looked crazy, pacing back and forth in her kitchen while stroking her cat like she was Dr. Evil. In her defense, Hank was very fluffy, and she was about to lose it. She knew she was smart, and a damn good spy, but she didn’t know how to get out of this one. May and Daniel were watching her from the kitchen table, each with a brow furrowed in concern. Hank was vibrating in her arms, but she wasn’t sure if it was from contented purring or her own anxieties leaking out.
“Honey. Everything okay?” Daniel broke the silence, and the concern and care in his voice nearly made her break down. He extended a hand towards her, and after a moment of staring at it, she relented, and took the open seat beside him. The cat settled into her lap without complaint, and Daniel squeezed her hand. The familiarity of her environment slowly calmed her, and she focused on the problem at hand.
“I need your help, both of you.” Her mother and husband exchanged a look that she knew meant they had her back (as if that was ever in question), and Daniel nodded firmly.
“Okay, what is it?”
“Alice wants me to show her around my old haunts in LA on the next STRIKE mission she tags along with. I need an excuse to say no, or for you to tell me a whole lot about LA in the fifties.” Since Jack had discovered something was wrong, they’d been far more careful, and had no more slip-ups. Peggy and Daniel had gone over SHIELD’s records with a fine-toothed comb, Daisy and her mom had long since memorized every detail of their alibis, were more used to being addressed as ‘Mei Wen’ and ‘Louise Wen Sousa’ than as ‘Melinda May’ and “Daisy Johnson-Sousa’. But no story was perfect. They’d stuck to the East Coast on purpose, far from where Daisy was purported to have been born. May claimed her parents were dead. Daisy had spent enough time in New York over the years that her claims of spending a good chunk of her childhood there were easy enough to verify. But LA was a different story. She hadn’t spent much time there in ages, not since all the shit with Robbie and the Watchdogs. If her niece pressed her for details, Daisy would flounder, and Alice would start to suspect something.
“Do we keep hiding your origins from everyone? I know why it needs to stay hidden, I do, but it’s already an open secret,” Daniel asked. She blinked slowly, not having considered that in years.
“There’s a difference between semi-open secrets and publicized facts. We can’t afford to let time travel and knowledge of the future become fact. I’ll keep Alice busy,” May offered.
“Thanks mom. This probably won’t last, though. There’ve been too many close calls. And yes, we should keep hiding.”
“Okay, then let’s think this through. Who knows who you guys really are?” Her husband prompted, and she could see the gears whirring in his head.
“Carter, obviously. Stark, Thompson, Jones, Friedman, Barnes…” Daisy counted off the names on her fingers, before petering off and looking to her mother. “Am I forgetting anyone?” May shook her head before picking up the list.
“We never told Flynn. Dugan and Phillips are dead. Jarvis knows too, Stark’s butler. There’s probably some people who suspect that your ‘gauntlets’ are innate powers, but otherwise…”
“A half dozen people, then. That’s doable. If you wanted to keep your identities a secret, it would be pretty easy to,” Daniel rationalized. There was that ‘if’ again, unnecessarily. Yes, it sucked, but Daisy understood the necessity. She’d once asked Ward how it felt to lie to everyone he knew about such a fundamental part of him for so long. Skye had wanted to know what deep cover was like, to understand what drove someone to live as someone else for months, years. Daisy had been living as someone else for sixteen years, and wasn’t quite sure where the boundaries between real and fake were anymore. She wasn’t sure it mattered. She thought of it almost like witness protection. She was the same person, with the same personality and motivations- not like Ward. She wasn’t a double agent. She was going by a fake name with a fake backstory for her own safety, so she could keep living a relatively quiet life. Being Quake, the target of so much adoration and hatred, dragged in front of Congress, plastered on newspapers, hunted like a dog, controlled for what she could do… no. She loved being a SHIELD agent, but only on her own terms.
“Absolutely. Our options are still keeping things secret or getting dissected. I’ll choose the secret, even if history’s changed enough that most of our knowledge is useless. There’s no way we make our identities public without drawing the wrong kind of attention,” she said. May nodded her agreement, but Daniel seemed less than convinced.
“Peggy’s not going to have you dissected.”
“ Someone will. If SHIELD at large ever learns that Inhumans exist, things will get really ugly, really fast.”
“Anyone who tries to hurt you will have a lot of guns pointed at their faces very quickly,” May bit out.
“Thanks mom, but it’s still a risk.”
“What really happens if people find out you’re from the future?”
“Chaos at best. Interrogations of some sort, as they tried to get every scrap of information out of us possible. The amount of shit we know that was declassified thirty years from now but the government refuses to admit exists? We’d be locked up so we didn’t reveal American secrets, and grilled so we revealed Russian ones. There might be a repeat of the Inhuman war, or at least the same kind of public witch-hunt we were subjected to. That was… not a pleasant experience. Watchdogs, ATCU, crazy civilians, Talbot. Everyone was rounding us up like animals. I’ve said my powers are genetic and never given them a drop of blood, but if Flynn found out more of the truth? If the military did? That wouldn’t last.
“That’s just the more mundane stuff. Don’t get me started on all the alien secrets. We know where the Asgardian Berserker staff is, and where the warrior is who left it here. Even without HYDRA around, and with most of command made up of our friends, I don’t trust SHIELD with that. We know far too much about Asgard, the Kree, and plenty of other alien shit here on Earth. I got rid of the Guest Host ages ago, but there’s still the Kree City under San Juan, and all the artifacts at Afterlife. SHIELD has the Tesseract, but they don’t know about the Infinity Stones. I know how to find Ghost Rider, and the Darkhold. That knowledge… no human should have it. Definitely no government or corporate entity. Even with all the technology and information we’ve given SHIELD, there’s much more that we can never reveal. But we’re only allowed to keep those secrets because of the deal we struck with Carter and Phillips. A deal that relies on secrecy, and our discretion. The more people know, the harder it’ll be to convince them that our help is worth our freedom. Especially now that I’ve gotten rid of your HYDRA infestation. There are likely some who think my usefulness is at an end, that I’ve already trained my replacements, and it would me smarter to lock me away somewhere before I cause my problems.
“On a personal level, we probably lose the positions we’ve fought so hard to get. I get arrested for tax fraud.” Daniel’s steadily darkening expression turned into one of pure confusion at her last tidbit of information.
“You what?”
“We lied about our identities for years. We all pay taxes. There’s definitely some consequences from the IRS involved, right? Our Social Security information is all fraudulent.”
“Daisy-” May began, but she cut her mom off.
“That’s how they got Al Capone, mom! Don’t underestimate the IRS! I’ve committed a lot of crimes, but I was always careful about tax evasion.” Daniel was chuckling now, but May just blinked in indignation.
“Didn’t you completely remove your identity from the system, twice, and steal millions from the Watchdogs?”
“That’s beside the point,” Daisy muttered.
“You’re using humor to deflect. It’s not working,” Daniel said gently.
“Either way, revealing who we are at this point would lead to everything going tits up. I trust the people who know,” she said emphatically. She would not budge on this. Thankfully, he seemed convinced.
“You’re right, it has to stay secret. But that’s easier said than done. Three can keep a secret if two of them are dead. If eight people know, it’s not a secret, that’s just knowledge,” her husband argued.
“Rick’s known me for years and has no idea. Rose might suspect something’s up but doesn’t know what. The rest of STRIKE suspects I have powers, but not that I’m from the future. That’s not usually the first thing people think of when someone’s acting a bit weird. All we have to do is not tell anybody else, and we won’t get chopped into tiny pieces.”
“I like the sound of not getting cut to pieces,” May muttered to herself. Daisy nodded her agreement, and Daniel silently conceded the point.
“So what are we going to do when the Zephyr comes back? That might be a bit hard to hide,” he said. Hank chose that moment to wake, clambering off of Daisy’s lap to go lick himself in the corner. She glared at the cat for a moment, before turning her attention back to her husband.
“I’ve given up on predicting the future. They’ll get here when they get here, and we’ll figure things out. We always do,” Daisy said.
Despite her claim to impulsivity, Daisy knew exactly what would happen when the Zephyr arrived. May would leave, either for 2019 or somewhere in between, so she could help beat the Chronicoms and save the world. And Daisy would stay behind, with the life she’d built for herself, the man she loved, and the version of SHIELD she didn’t hate working for. She still missed her old team, and always would, but the more time she’d spent apart from them the more their flaws had become obvious to her. It had taken years of trying to convince Daniel not to kill Fitz on sight when they finally met before she realized he might have a point. Seventeen years and the scar on her neck hadn’t faded.
Since she’d been stuck in the past, Daisy hadn’t been sent on a single suicide mission. Maybe it was just a side effect of not being openly Inhuman, but she hadn’t had the weight of the world placed on her shoulders by those she cared about. May had been far warmer and kinder to her than she was in the future, without the burden of command to come between them. Only by comparison with the team she had built could Daisy realize how terribly she’d been treated. The friends she’d made didn’t try to sell her out, call for her death, or defend anyone who’d tortured her. Daisy had spent years pining over Jemma, just for her to free Nazi-Fitz from his cell, then choose space-Fitz over her. She’d always love them, but the team she’d left behind on Zephyr One had never respected her, not really. Somehow, despite all the racism and sexism, the people here did. Maybe that shouldn’t mean quite so much to her, maybe not. But she had far more reasons to stay than she did to leave. Even if she had to hide her identity for fear of what SHIELD might do to her, she was better off where she had the advantage of secrecy.
Daisy already knew that her mother could tell she wanted to stay, and was delaying their painful farewell as long as possible. She was more than happy to do the same. Daisy really should confirm to Daniel at some point that she was staying. He was a genius, but he really could be an idiot sometimes. She loved him. Thankfully, there wasn’t any rush. With any luck, the Zephyr and the Chronicoms were a long way away. She’d have plenty of time left with her family- all of her family- before she had to say any farewells or deal with any obstinate former teammates. Daisy wasn’t sure what would be worse: if her team begged and pleaded with her to leave, or if they shrugged it off and let her stay without a fight. She hated just how easily she could imagine both outcomes.
Either way, Daisy only had one real choice. She was staying in the past, no matter what her team had to say about it.
- END PART ONE -
Notes:
Thank you all so much for reading this far! Next week, Coulson, Mack, Simmons, Yo-Yo, and Deke arrive in 1973.
Chapter 30: PART II: Chapter 30
Notes:
I'm posting a day early bc I've been sitting on (most of) this chapter for MONTHS, and I'm excited to share it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
July 22, 1955
Coulson- if he had any right to call himself that- could do nothing but stare helplessly as the countdown clock ticked towards zero. Next to him, Jemma was screaming into her radio. Yo-Yo was pacing, and Deke was staring blankly into space. Daisy and May were still out there, running towards the Zephyr on a rain-slicked rooftop, but there wasn’t enough time.
“Jemma! Isn’t there anything you can do to slow it down!” Daisy’s panicked voice begged through the comms, and Coulson’s heart was torn in two.
“No! We’re just hitchhikers! Hurry!”
They all knew what was about to happen, but there was nothing to be done. The air rippled with blue energy, and-
May 23, 1973
God, how much time had just passed? How long had he abandoned the two most important people in his stolen life to the past? He grabbed a radio from the pile of 1950s stuff they’d found useful while there, and flicked it on, tuning it to the middle of the FM band. It was so much worse than he’d feared.
“No more Mister Nice Guy! No more Mister Clea-he-he-hean!”
Coulson’s vision went red, and he punched the radio. His fist went right through it, and the terrible wailing of Alice Cooper was over. It was the 70s, at the earliest . Twenty years had gone by. Daisy had been in the past longer than he- than the real Coulson- had known her.
“We need to find Daisy and May. Now. We’ll start at the Krazy Kanoe. Mack, Simmons, with me. Deke, Yo-Yo, hold down the fort. One quick stop for clothes, and then we’re finding our people.”
“Yes sir. We’ll get them back.” Coulson didn’t even realize he’d deigned to give the director an order until Mack responded without question. Or that he was wrist-deep in a shitty old radio. He pulled it off his arm, brushing some plastic and metal off his sleeve.
“I’m not in charge here, Director. I just want our people back.” Coulson went to lead the team to the bar. He had to believe they were okay.
Thankfully, the Zephyr had jumped to New York, and grabbing a newspaper down the block from the ship showed him that it was May of 1973. Daisy was almost 49, May was 73- if they were even alive. No, he refused to think that way. They’d survived worse, they were fine. They had to be. The team was at the old bar in just over twenty minutes, Simmons dressed in 70s attire while Mack and Coulson stuck to suits. Coulson punched in ‘SWORDFISH’ on the door’s T9 keypad, and the lock clicked open. His team entered behind him, all of them staying close together. They’d silently agreed to not split up if they could help it- better not to risk any more separations. As Mack so often said, that was how people died in horror movies. Hopefully Daisy and May had managed to stay together.
Coulson knew dozens of facts and tidbits about this place, and being here (again) was an incredible privilege. An insane amount of SHIELD history had gone down in this bar. For once, however, he kept quiet about the history. They had different priorities. He’d met Daniel Sousa just a few hours ago, and even he was surprised that that encounter wasn’t the only thing he could think about. The Daniel Sousa. Coulson had even shot him! What an honor.
The bar was full of people laughing and drinking- some sort of celebration was going on. A glance behind the counter showed Enoch wasn’t working there, and another look around the room didn’t show Sousa, May, or Daisy, though there were plenty of nooks and crannies that anyone from Robert Gonzales to Peggy Carter could’ve been hiding in. He could’ve sworn he recognized some of the faces, but he was too distracted to focus on putting names to them. Coulson, Mack, and Simmons started to make the rounds, chatting with the agents present about the weather and trying to gain some information about whatever was going on. No one was being particularly forthcoming. They grabbed beers, took a booth near the center of the room, and were about to figure out their next move when a familiar face finally showed up. None other than Rick Stoner himself stepped out of a booth against the far wall, one that Coulson hadn’t been able to see into yet. How fucking cool was that! He motioned for Jemma to go talk to him, but the General started his inevitable speech, walking through the crowd as he did. Silently cursing their luck, Coulson put a hand on the scientist’s arm, and she settled back into the seat.
“Alright, thank you, thank you for coming. Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to thank all of you for being here today. I know that you are all excited to congratulate SHIELD’s new Deputy Director on his long-overdue promotion. So please, welcome the man himself, our boss and my friend, the man who killed HYDRA, Daniel Sousa.” Killed HYDRA? Sousa?? To his left, Jemma gasped, and Mack chuckled proudly.
“Guess we saved his life after all,” Mack muttered. He was right, this was proof they’d changed the timeline.
“What was that about killing HYDRA?” Jemma whispered
“I think we’re about to find out.”
Sousa limped out of the same hidden booth to applause from the gathered agents. He was leaning a bit more heavily on his cane than he had been in 1955, was wearing glasses, and the gray spots on his temples had spread into salt-and-pepper hair that suited him well. He was very much alive, and looked hale and healthy, even if there were a few small scars on his face that Coulson didn’t remember from the 50s. He even had a wedding ring on. Coulson was proud that, if nothing else, his team had offered a good man a chance at a longer, happier life. A life in which he seemed to have followed through with his investigation into HYDRA, and the world was better for it. Hopefully he’d been sufficiently thorough in his mole-hunt, HYDRA was too slippery to stay truly dead for long. On the train, Sousa had said that he’d had poor luck in his romantic endeavors, and that he’d loved someone once but it didn’t work out. Coulson had known he was talking about Peggy Carter, but clearly his luck had taken a change for the better since 1955. Good for him. Sousa offered the crowd a wave and grimaced, clearly deeply uncomfortable with the attention. He looked to be in pain too, if the way he leaned on the cane was any indication. Eventually, the applause died down. Sousa hadn’t seemed to notice Coulson’s team yet, his eyes kept darting longingly back to the booth he’d stepped out of. Would he even recognize them after twenty years? Would he arrest them (again) if he did?
“Thanks, Rick, for the too-kind introduction. I didn’t kill HYDRA, that was the work of a lot of very dedicated agents. Yourself included, General.” He cleared his throat before continuing. “Director Carter sends her regards to you all, by the way. She’s sorry she couldn’t be here.” Was Peggy Carter his wife? He’d thought she’d been married to someone else by 1955, with kids. Though divorce and death were always possible. Or maybe he’d just found someone else. “You all know who I am, hell, I’ve known some of you since the war. I remember when General Stoner here was just Little Ricky.” That drew a laugh from the crowd, and Stoner pretended not to hear it. His mustache creased in what looked like annoyance, but his eyes were twinkling. “I just wanted to say that none of what we’ve accomplished could’ve gotten done without all of you hardworking agents. Uprooting HYDRA, keeping our country and our world safe. It’s been a very difficult ten years. We’ve buried a lot of friends, and too many others turned out to be traitors. But we fought through it. All of you are heroes, and I wouldn’t have this job- or be alive- without the efforts of every person in this room. I appreciate your loyalty to SHIELD, and for your support after I came back from my ‘death’. The flowers on my grave were particularly kind, even if it was empty. And even if I did smash the headstone with a hammer first chance I got.” That got a chuckle and some more applause from the room, and explained quite a lot. But where the hell were Daisy and May? Maybe Sousa would know. He was the last person to see them before the team jumped. They’d all been on that rooftop together, right? Surely Daisy and May had to have told him something ?
“I’d especially like to thank my amazing wife, who was more integral to taking down HYDRA than anyone else, has been quite literally saving my life since the day we met, and is the founder and leader of the highly successful STRIKE division. You all know Louise, and she definitely deserves applause of her own.” The room burst into applause once more, and Coulson’s team joined them. An accomplished woman, and not Carter. It didn’t surprise Coulson to learn that Sousa was the kind of man who’d sing his wife’s praises any chance he got, and she certainly sounded worthy of it, whoever she was. STRIKE had been the best of the best, but HYDRA had entirely infiltrated it by 2014. Hopefully, under the mysterious Mrs. Sousa’s direction, this STRIKE would be loyal to SHIELD. He’d never heard of a Louise Sousa before, although her last name was certainly different in the original timeline. Even so, someone that skilled and important definitely should’ve rung a few bells. He was supposed to be SHIELD’s history expert, after all. Sousa smiled warmly in the direction of his booth, and after a moment, a woman stepped out into the room where Coulson could see her. Her back was turned to him, and he couldn’t make out her face, but the applause grew louder. She walked up to her husband, turned to face the crowd, and- my god.
Jemma dropped her beer, and Mack’s jaw fell open. It was Daisy. She’d aged over the decades, her brown hair now splashed with gray instead of the highlights or purple streaks she’d used to wear. Her face had a few more scars, and some light wrinkles and laugh lines, which had only enhanced her beauty. She was dressed fashionably and era-appropriate, the model 1970s female professional, but she was definitely Daisy. Her bearing, her smile, everything was very her . She looked genuinely happy, like a huge weight had been taken off her shoulders. Coulson had never seen her this carefree, though she definitely was as uncomfortable with the attention as Sousa, smiling sheepishly at the crowd. He should’ve realized it earlier: of course she’d have stayed as close to the thick of the action as possible, helping to take down HYDRA and finding a way to make herself useful. Always a fighter, that one. She’d even used her middle name as an alias. Marrying Sousa was very much unexpected, but the ring on her finger matched the one on his, and if the way she looked at him was any indication, it wasn’t just a cover. Coulson was sad he’d missed the wedding, he’d always hoped that she’d let him walk her down the aisle; though he would have to have been alive for that. Daisy getting married to one of his SHIELD heroes was not something he’d ever imagined, but it suited her. She was important, a leader of an elite commando squad, doing good and kicking ass. Coulson was happy for her, and so proud , and he had so many questions. She and May must have joined SHIELD, pitched in, taken the fight to HYDRA. They violated Mack’s orders, but it was hard to argue with the results. The world was safer, and she was happy.
As if reading his mind, Daisy slipped an arm around her husband’s waist, and he noticed she was wearing a thin golden chain, with a daisy-shaped charm on it. Jemma hastily tried to clean up her spilt beer while Sousa told the assembled agents to get back to their celebration, and Coulson tried not to pass out. Daisy hadn’t noticed them yet, she was chatting with Sousa and Stoner, her back turned to the team once again. Coulson noticed three people trying not to look like they were shadowing Daisy and Sousa: two young women in their thirties, one Asian and one white, with curly brown hair and a wide smile. They were leaning towards each other, but the drinks in their hands were untouched, and the guns under their blazers were obvious. Security, maybe? Members of STRIKE? Maybe just friends who didn’t want to drift too far away from Daisy? The third was the most bland, average-looking white guy Coulson had ever seen, probably in his late fifties. He looked vaguely familiar, but had one of those faces that was just impossible to remember. His drink was just a Coke, and he stood protectively over the curly-haired woman, while his eyes kept flashing towards Daisy. Definitely guards of some sort, or at least agents used to following her orders. Sticking together in a room of unfamiliar top brass wouldn’t be a bad call for members of a team. SHIELD’s bureaucrats could be vicious.
Mack broke the stunned silence as the murmur of conversation returned to the room, and Daisy, Sousa, and the famous General spoke like old friends.
“Well. I can’t say I saw that coming. Let’s go talk to the happy couple, shall we?”
Sousa- shit, there were two Sousas now- Daniel noticed them first, when they were only a few yards away. His eyes widened with shock and recognition, and he said something that Coulson couldn’t hear to Stoner. The general clapped his boss on the shoulder, smiled beneath his very impressive mustache, and left. With a gesture from Daisy, the three agents sticking near her peeled off as well. Daniel stared pointedly at Coulson, something between resignation and joy on his face, but his attention remained on Daisy. He murmured something to her, and although Coulson couldn’t make out the words, he could hear the warmth in his tone. Finally, when they were right behind her, Daisy turned around. Her breath caught in her throat and Coulson pulled her into a tight hug before she could say anything, careful not to accidentally snap any bones. When he released her, her cheeks were wet from tears, and Coulson knew that if he could cry, his would be too. Sousa spoke first.
“Let’s talk in my office, there’s too many ears here.” He led the four agents, all of whom were in shock, through the bar to the hidden room that used to be Ernest Koenig’s storage, Daisy’s shadows melting away into the crowd. The second the door closed behind them, Daisy hugged both Mack and Simmons at the same time, earning a laugh from her old partner and a sob from the scientist. Daisy was sobbing too, and even Mack seemed teary-eyed. Sousa was standing in a corner, giving space to the reunion, which Coulson greatly appreciated. He was still studying every change to Daisy’s face over the last eighteen years.
“It’s good to see you too, Tremors. Unless you’d prefer I call you Louise Sousa? How long has that been a thing?” Daisy let Mack go enough to punch him in the shoulder, then pulled him back into the hug. He pretended to wince in pain at the punch, but the teasing grin never left his face. They might be basically the same age now- Daisy was even slightly older- but Mack was still basically her big brother.
“A while, we’ve been married a bit over fourteen years. We had to change our names to keep the Chronicoms from finding us and SHIELD from exploiting our knowledge, it’s not as necessary anymore but it would’ve been awkward to come clean after a few years. Almost no one knows who I am. I’ve been here a really, really long time. We’d both kind of given up on you guys ever returning. Mom’s gonna be so happy you’re back. Shit, I’m rambling. I missed you guys so much.” Mom? She’d gotten in touch with Jiaying? Where the hell was May? And did that mean the Chronicoms had left people behind too? Thankfully, Sousa answered some of his many questions.
“May was running backend on an op in Smolensk, she should be back in a couple hours. Everyone here knows her as Mei Wen. Her and Daisy initially posed as mother and daughter, it stuck after about a week. From what I’ve heard it was basically true anyway. Your friend Enoch’s out running some sort of errand, but he’s around too. From what Daisy’s told me, we made a lot of changes to the timeline you’re used to. We’ll explain everything.” Daisy nodded her agreement, took a deep breath, and finally released her friends from the hug. She kept a hand on Simmons’ arm, as if afraid she’d disappear again.
“Let’s get out of here, I want to see the Zephyr again, and I have a lot to catch you up on.”
It turned out being the Deputy Director meant no one batted an eye when an ‘emergency situation’ whisked you away from your own party. Sousa paused only to inform the bland-looking man that they were leaving, and told him to send Enoch their way once he returned. The man agreed readily, and from the suddenly serious look in his eyes, Coulson wondered just how much he knew of Daisy’s true identity. They all stayed quiet on the walk back to where the Zephyr was cloaked, in case someone overheard conversations about classified information, but they all relaxed as soon as they were back onboard. Yo-Yo and even Deke got hugs of their own from Daisy, and the (mostly) reunited team went to the command center to talk. Thankfully, there were three days left on the jump countdown. They had plenty of time.
Enoch was waiting for them on Zephyr One’s bridge, to Daisy’s visible shock and Simmons’ delight. Coulson wasn’t paying much attention to the reunion itself, he was still focused on Daisy. He’d been so worried for her, and yet when he’d found her, she seemed happier than she’d been in years. Comfortable, badass, self-assured, and surrounded by friends and family. She’d been living with May as her mother for decades, and was so used to it she’d forgotten the team didn’t know. Now, back on the ship she’d called home for a year, she seemed vaguely out of place. Her eyes kept darting around, taking in the empty corners of the Zephyr like she was looking for threats. Sousa never strayed more than a few feet from his wife, and seemed torn between slack-jawed awe of the Zephyr and protectiveness towards Daisy. Coulson wasn’t quite sure what to make of that: if his earlier speech was any indication, he was well aware she could take care of herself. Daisy didn’t seem discomfited by his presence, and Coulson could’ve sworn she was just as protective of him as Sousa was of her. Maybe they were just trauma bonded?
Deke was, unsurprisingly, the one to break the silence.
“Daisy! Holy shit, you’re old!”
“Thanks, Deke. I appreciate that.” Coulson, Mack, and Sousa all exchanged dry looks. If she was old, what did that make them? Personally, Coulson thought Daisy had aged remarkably well. Maybe she’d inherited some of Jiaying’s abilities after all.
“Hang on, you’re the one who sold her into slavery, right?” Mack choke-laughed at Sousa’s question, before a harsh glare from Jemma in the corner silenced him.
“Yes, yes he is,” Daisy verified, without a hint of malice.
“I’m not that person anymore,” Deke half-whispered. Sousa’s scowl didn’t lighten up, and he seemed equally disapproving of Jemma and Yo-Yo. Maybe he’d heard exaggerated stories of Daisy’s brief directorship? Coulson only had Fitzsimmons’ rather bare-bones summaries of what had occurred after the real Phil Coulson had been shoved into the Framework. He wasn’t sure how much of what he knew was true, but he didn’t think utter disdain was quite the right response for what Simmons and Yo-Yo had done. Maybe Fitz, but that Fitz was dead.
Yo-Yo, thankfully, had much more tact. She gave Daisy a brief hug, before pulling back and squeezing her shoulders.
“It’s good to see you again,” she said. “Where’s May?”
“On her way back from Russia, she’ll be here soon,” Daisy explained.
With that, the reunion seemed to be over, and everyone returned to mission-planning mode. There was no time to waste, and they all knew it.
“Now what?” Daisy asked. To his surprise, Enoch was the one who spoke first.
“I highly recommend recovering the parcel I left with you, Agent Johnson. After that, we should attempt to locate and subdue the Chronicoms. If Zephyr One has landed in 1973, then so have they.” Coulson had no idea what this parcel was, but Daisy and her husband exchanged a look that said they were both far too familiar with it.
“We’ll take the Zephyr over to our house, then. Enoch’s package is there.” Sousa’s explanation was accepted without addendum or commentary from his wife, but that wasn’t far-reaching enough for Coulson.
“And after that?” He asked.
“Wait for the Chronicoms to show themselves, I guess.” Yo-Yo offered. Mack nodded his agreement.
“I’m not sure what SHIELD-related weakness was supposed to have been happening here in the original timeline. Coulson, do you?”
“Sorry director, I’ve got nothing.”
“Well, the last couple jumps, they had pretty obvious targets. Sousa, any ideas?” Mack was a good director. He knew how to rely on his team’s strengths, but wasn’t incapable on his own. Coulson still thought Daisy should have the job, but Mack was a good pick too.
“There’s no threads to pull that I’m aware of, no,” Daisy said. Mack blinked at her, but recovered quickly and cleared his throat. Coulson had to fight back a smile- neither Daisy nor Daniel even realized that Mack had been addressing Daniel Sousa, not ‘Louise Sousa’. How often did she get to hear her real name while living in the past? She was wearing a golden daisy on a necklace, sure, but as symbols of identity go it paled in comparison to the ring on her finger.”
“Where is this house?”
“Bergen County. I can fly us over.”
“You moved to Jersey, Tremors? That’s embarrassing.”
“Less stairs in the suburbs, we found an accessible house out there relatively cheap. The ADA is still a few decades away, cities are rough. Besides, it’s close to Camp Lehigh, and there’s a lot less collateral damage if we get attacked.”
“Does… that happen often?” Simmons asked, breaking away from her hushed conversation with Enoch.
“Not anymore,” Daisy replied with a wicked grin. He was so proud of her.
“Wait, hang on, you can fly? That’s new. Do you just, like, push down on the ground with your powers or…” Deke trailed off after Daisy’s absolutely vicious eye roll cut through him, and the poor guy deflated like a stuck balloon.
“I actually can jump that way, but I meant fly the Zephyr. May taught me how.”
“What happened to the Quinjet we left with you?” Mack asked.
“We gave it to Stark, he reverse-engineered it. They were instrumental in the war, SHIELD standard issue. The tech still holds up, too. I think the original’s spread between a couple hundred crates in a warehouse somewhere, but May’s flying one back. She can meet us in Jersey, and figure things out from there.” With no objections from the rest of the team, Daisy ducked into the cockpit, and within moments the command center was mostly empty. A worried-looking Simmons half-dragged Enoch down to the lab, with Deke plodding into the cockpit like a wounded puppy. Yo-Yo muttered something about tuning up her arms and left, leaving Coulson, Mack, and Sousa standing awkwardly around the room. The plane took off with only the slightest shudder, and Sousa started perusing the advanced technology in awe.
“Sousa?” Mack calling his name got his attention, and he turned away from the screens, smiling sheepishly. The glasses, button down, suspenders, and jacket made him look more like a nerdy professor than the second-in-command of an advanced spy agency.
“Sorry, it’s just way beyond even what we got from the Quinjet, and-” Mack cut off his rambling without even looking up from his terminal.
“What are your intentions?” Coulson got where the Director was going with this, and added his toughest glare to the shovel-talk act Mack was putting on. Sousa straightened, adjusting his glasses and leaning on the cane more heavily.
“Sir?”
“With Daisy.” Mack clarified. That only seemed to make him more confused, not less.
“I don’t exactly plan on divorcing her, if that’s what you mean. I’m sticking with her, wherever that leads.” Coulson approved of this one, and if Mack’s nod was any indication, he did too.
“Listen: Daisy’s been hurt. Bad. So, I’m happy she was ready to dive back in, and I’m happy it’s you. You seem like a good man.” Daniel opened his mouth to reply with something, but Mack spoke over him. “But, I’m not about to let her get hurt again. You hear what I’m saying?”
“I think so. I think you’re threatening me. Sir.”
“Not just him. All of us,” Coulson said. He squeezed a railing before pulling his hand away, and was satisfied when Sousa’s eyes widened at the warped metal. Mack smirked at the display.
“And we have technology at SHIELD that you’ve never even seen,” the Director continued. This time, it was Sousa who cut him off.
“I hear you. Loud and clear. Daisy’s told me plenty of stories about all the weapons you guys have. And I know about Lincoln, and Ward, and Miles. I would never hurt her.” The sincerity dripping from his words placated Coulson, and seemed to do the same for Mack. Before anyone else could make a threat, the Zephyr settled down and the thrum of the engines stopped. Coulson fucking loved how fast this thing moved. The Lower East Side to Northern Jersey in less than ten minutes? It was amazing.
The cockpit doors slid open, Daisy quickly taking the opportunity to extricate herself from Deke’s company. She took her husband’s hand as she walked past, slowing to match his speed.
“We’ll be back in a few minutes, shouldn’t take long to get Enoch’s package. I hope you two didn’t make any particularly dangerous threats?” She fixed Coulson and Mack with a glare that made him wonder just how much her hearing had improved, and they both shook their heads innocently. Daniel only shrugged, and Daisy rolled her eyes. They left the command center hand in hand, Daisy already cursing Fitz for failing to put elevators in the Zephyr. Coulson had to admit, it was a fair critique.
Once they were gone, he and Mack returned to looking over the data on the Zephyr’s screens, and Deke soon joined them. It didn’t escape Coulson’s notice that Daisy had brought her husband along, despite the pain of stairs, to do a one-person job. He had several theories as to why that was, and he wasn’t sure which was his least favorite. None were particularly appealing.
-
Daisy had just finished digging the parcel out from under its false floorboard, in her bathroom, when she heard the sound of several drawers opening and closing in short succession from her and Daniel’s bedroom. The package was no bigger than a child’s lunchbox, so she tucked it under her arm and stepped out of the en suite. She found her husband standing over a half-full, small duffel, tossing in bits and pieces of the life they’d made over the years. A few changes of clothes each, a couple photo albums, gifts from each other and their family and friends. Daisy sighed, sitting on the edge of their bed. He didn’t seem to notice, so she spoke.
“Honey, what are you doing?”
“Packing,” came the reply. Daniel didn’t look up, throwing in a spare prosthetic and a gun.
“For what? I’ve already got Enoch’s package. I’m ready to go.”
“The future. I’m going with you. We can probably bring Hank with us, right? Or we could drop him with Camila and John?”
“Daniel…” she began, but he cut her off.
“No, don’t you dare try to convince me to stay. I said I’d be there for you, I meant it. You can’t get rid of me that easy, Dais.” She was touched by the gesture, but he was really missing the point.
“Daniel-”
“SHIELD will be fine without me, and I’m sure I can find something to do in the future.” Daisy gritted her teeth, she really hated when people interrupted her. Daniel almost never did, but this was an almost comically bad time for him to start.
“I’m staying here!” She shouted. Finally, that seemed to get his attention. A pair of socks fell out of his hands, and he turned to stare open-mouthed at her. Daisy couldn’t quite keep the smirk off her face, she so rarely managed to catch him off guard.
“You are? Why? You spent so long talking about leaving when they got back. What about your team? May?” Daisy patted the bed next to her, and her idiot husband took the cue to sit. She took the opportunity to kiss the stupid look off his face before she began her spiel.
“You know that, after Hive and Lincoln, I left SHIELD. I wanted to get myself killed, and to maybe do some good in the process. I came back because my crusade against the Watchdogs ended up getting tangled up with Ghost Rider and SHIELD and a whole bunch of complicated shit I can barely remember, it’s been like twenty years. My point is that I said it would be my last mission- I’d come back to clean up my mess, then I’d be gone for good. Well, one thing led to another, the Framework happened, then I got sent to the future, tried to stay there too to save the world… anyway, I got dragged back by Coulson and ended up in space, looking for Fitz.”
“Yeah, you’ve told me this before. But why-”
“I spent a year in space, and they were fine without me. Jemma, Piper, Davis and I were gone from Earth for a full year and nothing terrible happened that only we could stop. Coulson thought he needed me back in 2019 so I could lead, and that went terribly. I probably should’ve stayed in 2091. Then, Jemma and I came back to Earth because we found Fitz, and then Izel was trying to destroy the world, so we stopped her, and Jemma tore us back to the past because of the Chronicoms… and that mission ended up taking like eighteen years and counting.” This was the most rambling explanation she’d probably given for anything, ever, and she knew she wasn’t making much sense. Daniel, however, seemed to be following along with her logic. She took a deep breath, squeezed his hand, and continued. “This place sucks, not gonna lie. I’ve still barely got any civil rights, I can’t go by my own name or make my powers known. But I’ve made a difference, right? Like, this is so different already from the 1973 I’ve read about. The world’s more peaceful, HYDRA’s gone, the Red Room’s gone, SHIELD is better, the governments of the world are a bit more stable, the Cold War’s a bit colder. And that’s all because of me and mom. I don’t mean to say that you and so many others didn’t do anything to change the world, because of course you did, but us getting stuck here was the catalyst, you know? Deke would say we were the big sticks that got stuck in the river, and made a dam.”
“I understand, yeah.”
“Good, because that sounded really egotistical on my part. I’ve done a lot of good here. Maybe more good than I ever did in the future, and I think if I stay I can do more than if I return. They don’t need me, not really. They never even really stopped being afraid of me. Jemma never apologized for supporting Fitz when he cut me open, Yo-Yo hates me, Deke’s being weird about us being together, and everyone’s weirded out by how much I aged. It’s been so long that I forgot so many details of what my team was like, and don’t get me wrong, I love them, but they don’t need me. 2019 doesn’t need me. When they showed up, they were all so different from how I’d remembered them, it was… really jarring. I spent too long thinking of them as photos in an album. But honestly, my mind’s been made up for a long time. Even my idealized memories of them weren’t that great. My affairs are all in order, not that I really had any. I spent the last year before coming here in space anyway. Plus, most of the world hates me for… a lot of reasons. Being famous sucks, which is why I tried so hard not to be well-known here. But here, even though I’m not famous, I have responsibilities. The Chronicoms are going to go on the offensive again. I’ve got a team that I’m in charge of, Inhuman causes that only I can actually advocate for, as opposed to the future where there’s plenty of us around. There’s lives I can save.”
“And a really handsome husband.” Daisy chuckled and kissed him again.
“Oh of course, how could I ever forget the handsome husband? And the cat. I have family and friends here, I’d feel bad if I just disappear on them. My team’s used to me running away, but this time, I’m just staying where I am. In a weird way, I kind of like it here. It’s really fucked up, but at least there’s a few more civil rights now? I found a space that I can fit into, even if I’m not doing it as me . At the end of the day, I can save more lives here than there, so I’m staying.”
“You’re sure? Your team might not need you to save the world, but that doesn’t mean they don’t need you and love you.”
“I’m sure. I can do more good here,” she assured him.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” Daisy took a moment to lean her head on his shoulder, and breathe, before everything inevitably went to shit. Daniel wrapped his arm around her shoulder and squeezed gently.
“How are you so… good?” He asked, with something approaching reverence.
“I’m not, really.”
“The fact that you believe that is proof that you are a good person, sweetheart. Bad people don’t carry guilt around for this long, although good people really shouldn’t either.”
“Eighteen years and you still surprise me, Sousa. Who knew you were a therapist at heart.”
“That’s Johnson to you,” her husband quipped, without a moment’s hesitation. Daisy found herself blinking back sudden tears, and wrapped both her arms around his torso. Daniel returned the hug with his free arm, and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.
“The team’s gonna lose their shit, huh?” she mumbled into his shoulder.
“One step at a time.” After a moment, Daisy processed what he’d just said, and looked up at her husband. Amusement twinkled in his eyes, but he betrayed nothing.
“Was that an amputee joke? Am I allowed to laugh at that?” The corner of Daniel’s mouth twitched, but his only reply was to stand slowly, so as to not roughly break their hug, and offered her his free hand once he was on his feet. Daisy took it, threading her arm through the one he’d offered once she was standing as well.
“Once more into the breach?”
“With you? Of course.”
“Can’t be worse than HYDRA.”
“You’ve never seen Simmons angry.”
Notes:
You're all welcome to imagine just how painfully awkward the ride over was for Daisy. Just listening to Deke ramble for ten minutes.
'Coulson' is having a real rough go of it. Lovely mix of proud dad, nerdy kid, and traumatized dead guy going on there. He gets to see the results of Daisy's hard work.
The eagle-eyed reader might notice Daisy's wearing the same necklace May gave her for her birthday (in 1956) back in Chapter 12. I wrote this around the same time as C12, and planned for the necklace to make more frequent appearances, but I could never make it make sense to mention. Daisy has been wearing it often for all these years, however.
Can you tell I really hate Alice Cooper?
Chapter 31
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
May 23, 1973
Everything was wrong. The Time Stream hadn’t anticipated this. Sybil was, for the first time in her existence, confused. This would take time to sort through. Luke: not responding. Likely dead. Last information uplink over ten years old. Not useful. Original timeline’s anthropologists: data upload commencing. Useful, but not useful enough. No classified information on SHIELD. Firewalls already up, SHIELD servers protected. Likely Johnson’s work. Earth technology too advanced. Wilfred Malick: dead. Daisy Johnson: alive. Daniel Sousa: alive. Melinda May: alive. SHIELD: public heroes, stronger bureaucratic presence. Less vulnerable. Fury’s Toolbox now useless, timeline too divergent. HYDRA gone, SHIELD more unified. More information needed to make accurate assessments.
Possible courses of action: frontal assault (Chance of success, 7%). Not acceptable. Eliminating greater threats first [Remove Daisy Johnson’s parents, so that this timeline only has one of her. Spread hunters for assassinations of key figures. Replace where possible. Allow more time for SHIELD to fall. Isolate and eliminate key SHIELD figures, both from 1973 and 2019. Divide and conquer {Latin: Divide et impera, Greek: diaire kai basileue}.] (Chance of overall success: 76%). Acceptable, but not ideal. The best of several poor choices.
Primary threat: Daisy Louise Johnson [alias: ‘Quake’, alias: ‘The Destroyer of Worlds’, alias: ‘Skye’, alias: ‘Mary Sue Poots’, alias: ‘Louise Wen Sousa’], birth Jul. 2, 1988 CE (Hunan, People’s Republic of China). Parents: [Jiaying, birth Jan. 16, 1631 CE (Hunan, Ming Dynasty), death May 9, 2015 (original timeline) (Iliad )], [Calvin Johnson, born Aug. 2, 1954 CE (Milwaukee, Wisconsin, United States of America), death of personality May 13, 2015 (Alexandria, VA, USA)]. Current locations: [Daisy Johnson: Unknown (insufficient data) (74% chance New York City Greater Metropolitan Region)], [Jiaying: Lai Shi {English: Afterlife}, Nepal (likely)] [Calvin Johnson: Milwaukee, WI (likely)].
Primary objective: kill Calvin Johnson and Jiaying before Daisy Johnson can be born (Jul. 2, 1988). A second Daisy Johnson in this timeline would cause irreparable damage to the plan. Send one Hunter to Milwaulkee, WI (Chance of success: 99%). Send Timeship and remaining Hunters to Lai Shi {English: Afterlife}, Nepal (Chance of success, 82%). Elimination of both parents necessary to ensure no alternate children fill the role of Daisy Johnson. Inhuman children of Jiaying unusually powerful. Paternity may not be a significant factor in her power or motivations. Secondary objectives: eliminate as many Inhumans and Potential Inhumans as possible (to reduce Earth’s enhanced fighting force). Draw out and eliminate the 2019-SHIELD team. Subsequent primary objective: alert 1973-SHIELD to the existence of Inhumans, and their location (to start a war). Chance of Daisy Johnson’s death in SHIELD-Inhuman conflict: 95%. Chance of 2019-SHIELD’s elimination in SHIELD-Inhuman conflict: 58%. Chance of elimination of 2019-SHIELD team by Chronicom hunters (without war: 31%) (with war: 89%). Subsequent secondary objective: eliminate leadership of 1973-SHIELD (chance of success with war: 99%) (Chance of success without war: 68%). Quaternary objective: alert Chronyca-2 to impending disaster, order creation of a military fleet.
Sybil removed her focus from the Timestream and began relaying orders to her Hunters. This situation was dire, but could be salvaged in time. The next jump was over three days from now, and could always be delayed. All objectives could be completed in that time, and further objectives if more Hunters were left behind.
-
When Daisy and Daniel returned to the Zephyr’s command center, her team was waiting for her. To her shock, as they’d only been gone for fifteen minutes, her mother was among them, exchanging hugs and greetings with the team. Mack was the first to notice their arrival, but had a very poor choice of words in his greetings.
“Ready to go, Tremors?” Daisy winced, and figured this was as good a time as any to let the team know she wasn’t going to be permanently rejoining them.
“About that…”
“You’re staying, aren’t you? Once the mission’s done, you’re not coming back to the future," May said.
“Yeah. I am,” Daisy admitted. There it was, all out in the open after so many years spent dancing around the truth. When the timer on the wall ran out, she would have to say goodbye to the only mother that had ever bothered to stick around. Daisy found herself blinking back tears without warning, and Daniel’s hand came to rest on her shoulder. May took two steps forwards, as if to hug her, but Yo-Yo interrupted Daisy’s rapidly approaching breakdown.
“Malparida egoísta,”* the other Inhuman spat. Daisy blinked, breaking eye contact with her mother, and glared at Yo-Yo. Mack was staring at his girlfriend in shock, and Daniel’s hand tightened on her shoulder. She shook her husband off, taking a couple of steps forward. He moved to stand by May, keeping a white-knuckled grip on his cane.
“The fuck did you just say to me?”
“Te llamé lo que eres. Nos vas a dejar otra vez. ¿Crees que no puedes luchar porque estás casada? Cobarde. Esto es Lincoln otra vez. ¿Qué harás cuando él muera para ti también, eh?”** Daisy didn’t speak Spanish, but she understood it well enough to get by. Even if she hadn’t understood a word, she would’ve recognized plenty of insults by tone alone- and Lincoln’s name. That couldn’t possibly be good. By now, she was shaking with anger, but Yo-Yo seemed to be just getting started.
“Elena…” Mack began, but he was cut off with a finger jabbed into his chest. Coulson, who looked as furious as she felt, took a few steps forward too, but both Inhumans ignored him.
“Don’t Elena me! No voy a luchar y morir pa’ que ella pueda coger su novio nuevo en paz. Perdí los brazos y los poderes porque me uní a SHIELD. Ella me reclutó, y ahora ella nos va a abandonar.”*** Yo-Yo turned her attention back to Daisy, and the fire in her eyes would’ve been scary in another life. Now, she was just resigned to it. “Hija de la puta madre. You’ve had twenty years to rest. I helped you when you ran after Lincoln died, and I supported you going to space after Coulson. But you have no right to quit on us now.” Daisy moved lightning-quick, and her fist struck the side of the other Inhuman’s jaw. She’d learned over the years that Terrigenesis took a very long time to fully complete its work, and that fully-transitioned Inhumans had speed, strength, and healing beyond the means of average humans, in addition to their powers. She didn’t have super-strength by any metric, which she’d learned the hard way fighting Bucky and sparring with him over the years. Daisy was far quicker and stronger than her only moderately-muscled frame indicated. Yo-Yo was expecting Daisy as she last saw her, with the added frailties of the middle-aged woman she’d become. She wasn’t prepared for a fully matured Kree slave-soldier with 22 years to master her powers, and an extra 18 years of training on her.
Yo-Yo was spun a full ninety degrees, knocked backwards over a console and dropped to the floor. The rest of her team and family could do nothing but stare: Mack in rage, Daniel and May with pride, and the others with pure shock. Elena wiped a trickle of blood from the side of her mouth, and slowly got to her feet. Daisy didn’t bother to extend her a hand. She’d been afraid of something like this happening, but wasn’t prepared for the blind rage she’d feel at her team’s impotent response. None had said a word in her defense, and all were mad at her for not keeping her temper under control.
“I still don’t speak Spanish, but I’ve learned Portuguese in the two decades since we last met. I don’t know how much of that you wanted me to understand, but I got the gist. Fuck you too. All this does is prove I made the right choice. You think I’ve been sipping mai tais on a beach for twenty years? I know you’re not up to date on what May and I have been up to, so let me fill you in. I’ve been fighting for SHIELD, tearing HYDRA out, root and stem. I rebuilt STRIKE, killed Whitehall, and defeated the Winter Soldier in single combat. I run Operations’ most successful unit, on the front lines. I’ve stopped a half dozen wars before they started and contained or destroyed a good half of all the dangerous items we ever encountered back in the future. I dismantled the Red Room and freed the Black Widows.
“You ‘supported’ me going to space after Coulson died because you wanted me gone! You spent my directorship undermining me, you helped free Fitz and killed Ruby. Having Mack’s competition sent to the other side of the universe was the best case scenario for you. Here, they had me on the shortlist for Deputy Director! I report to two people, and the only one I’m not married to is Peggy fucking Carter. Sure, I wasn’t the best Director, but you decided to free the son of a bitch who tore my neck open instead of building a goddamn remote control! I’m in charge of five times as many people now as we had back in 2018, and not one of them has ever cut me apart or mutinied. I’ve led these people to hell and back over the last decade, and they all followed the orders of an Asian woman in the fucking sixties. You , my friends , couldn’t avoid treason for a week. Why don’t you stick your ass in the healing chamber so you can get your powers back and have one less thing to blame me for.”
She stared at Yo-Yo and Jemma, almost wishing Fitz was here to yell at. This had been a very cathartic shouting match so far. The silence somehow grew louder, though Daisy could feel the pounding heartbeats of the people she’d chewed out. They had the decency to look cowed, at least. Her husband’s heart rate had spiked as well, but she knew it was for an entirely different reason. Jemma seemed to blink back tears, but from what, Daisy couldn’t begin to guess. Deke tried to make himself look as small as possible. Mack moved to help his girlfriend to her feet, and carefully avoided meeting Daisy’s glare. Coulson just looked troubled, and May seemed to be trying not to give in to all the violent emotions swirling around.
“We still need you, Daisy. SHIELD needs you. Don’t abandon it now, after all you’ve accomplished. There’s no reason Agent Sousa can’t come,” Simmons pleaded. Daisy took a deep, calming breath before she replied. She’d made her peace with what she was about to say long ago.
“Jemma, I love you like a sister now, and I loved you romantically for a long time. You were my closest friend. I’ve dropped everything and run all around the galaxy for you before. But you of all people have no right to tell me off for ‘abandoning SHIELD’, not when you left the second you had a chance of being with Fitz. Even after the other version of him tortured me- and the Framework version tortured us both. I’m not staying just because of my family, I’m staying so I can keep working for SHIELD. A SHIELD where I can make a difference instead of being a burden in a half dozen different ways,” Daisy said with all the calmness she could muster. Before Jemma could even begin to process that beyond gaping at Daisy like she’d grown a third head, her grandson decided to butt in.
“Family? You have children?” he asked hollowly. The conversation on the way over had been awkward enough, this was fucking torturous. She felt Daniel’s vibrations growing tenser, and sensed his sharp intake of breath. It had always been a sore subject for the both of them. They both would’ve wanted kids in theory, but knew it was never going to be possible. And so, after all the bullshit she’d put up with since the Zephyr had arrived, Deke’s latest stupid-ass statement was the one that made her really lose her temper.
“No, Deke, I don’t have any fucking kids. Maybe I would’ve, in the future, but it’s never been an option. Hell, for all I know, I can’t even have them. Never tried to find out, but with all the shit that’s been pumped into my blood it wouldn’t surprise me. No, I meant my husband, mother, and extended family. Even if mom does have to leave. But doesn’t it worry any of you that you didn’t even think to ask? ‘Oh, Daisy’s been in the past for eighteen years, I’m sure she’s been chaste and virginal the whole time!’” Daniel choked on his own spit, but she was too deep into her rant to let up now.
“‘Good SHIELD agent Daisy’s been sitting in a cave for eighteen years like a monk, consuming nothing but water and bread. She’s been useless and bored and breathlessly waiting for her loyal, loving team to whisk her away to the time when she’s safe and happy’ That sounds just like what I’d do. Fighting HYDRA? Working with SHIELD? Being useful? Fucking? Never done any of those before in my life. I actually never left the nunnery where I grew up, and I’m a God-fearing Catholic. That sound about right to you, mom?” Daisy asked rhetorically.
“Sounds about right,” May drawled, without missing a beat. Daisy sucked in a breath and continued, slightly calmer for this part of her spiel.
“I’m not trying to demand apologies or for you to all bow and cower or anything. I’m not even going to punch you again, even though you deserve it a little. You know why? I’m happy! I’m actually happy here! I have a job I love, friends, nieces and nephews to spoil, a husband who I get to work with, relative anonymity, respect, and safety. Most days, I get to wake up and fall asleep next to someone I love dearly, and spend the time in between saving lives. I have a house instead of a van or a spaceship. I met my niece when she was seven, and now she’s a SHIELD agent. She’s planning to join STRIKE in a couple years. I’ve watched people grow up. There’s children I helped rescue from the Red Room who are stable, happy, healthy adults now. One of those agents behind me in the bar? She was a Widow. When we stormed their base, we found her protecting the younger kids, surrounded by the dead bodies of the Russian soldiers she’d killed with a butter knife. She was younger than me when we first met, Elena. If May and I hadn’t gotten stuck here, she probably would’ve lived out her life as a Widow. I’m making a difference, and I’m happy. I was never really happy there.”
Daisy stopped her rambling, taking a look around the room at the shocked, proud, and furious faces surrounding her. Coulson looked somewhere between thoughtful, proud, and heartbroken. Mack’s eyes were flicking between her and Yo-Yo, and he kept a stoic mask on. Elena had gotten back to her feet and was working her jaw in circles, glaring daggers at Daisy. She’d long since run out of fucks to give. Deke was giving her the sad puppy-dog eyes, but something told her that he understood. He’d found happiness in his past too. May looked pissed, probably picking up on all the emotions in the room, but Daisy could tell the difference by now between her mother’s emotions and the ones she was sensing. May was proud of her for standing up for herself, and sad that she would have to leave. Daisy’s plans to stay were all out in the open now, and she’d talked it over with Daniel, but not with May. She’d put off that conversation as long as possible. Jemma still seemed on the verge of tears, furious at Daisy and processing all she’d been told. Daisy could live with that. Her husband, on the other hand, looked like he was barely restraining himself from pinning Daisy against a bulkhead and kissing her senseless, at the very least. She could live with that too- and absolutely intended to. But, at the moment, she had other problems.
“Now, how about we figure out where the Chronicoms went, so we can get all this over with,” Daisy bit out.
“After all we’ve been through? Coulson, May, can’t you talk some sense into her?” Jemma asked, tears still in her eyes. Daisy was too frustrated for words, and was helpless to do anything other than slam an open hand into the closest bulkhead. It buckled under her fingers, leaving the imprint of her hand in the metal. Simmons looked at it and gulped with fear, which only shattered Daisy’s heart further. All these years, and Jemma had never really stopped being afraid of her.
“I agree with her. Hell, I wish I could stay too,” May said. Daisy had never been more grateful for her.
“Agent May’s continued presence on the Zephyr is necessary for the plan,” Enoch explained. He’d been his usually silent, stoic self for the entire conversation, but finally had made his presence known. Mack’s brow furrowed in confusion at what was, to him, a sudden revelation.
“Hold up, what plan is that?” he demanded. Jemma, meanwhile, was still ignoring the larger goings-on.
“You belong with us, Daisy.”
“Daisy’s a grown woman who can do what she wants. We need to know about this plan of yours, Enoch. Now,” Coulson demanded.
“All in good time, Agent Coulson. Protecting that parcel, and others like it, is part of the plan. As is Agent May’s return alongside the Zephyr. The rest will be revealed as necessary.”
Before anyone else could bitch or moan about what they thought Daisy should do with her life, one of the consoles pinged. Deke rushed over to check it, announcing his findings to the group.
“Our sensors picked up what we think is the Chronicoms’ ship. They took off from around upstate New York, headed on a course that only intersects with one point of interest.” With a flick of his fingers, the the display moved to one of the larger screens, showing the Chronicom ship’s projected path against a slowly rotating globe. Daisy cursed in every language she knew when Asia came into view.
“Afterlife. They’re going after the Inhumans. Can we beat them?”
“No, but if we head into space, they’ll only be ahead of us by fifteen minutes,” Jemma offered. The crew was too professional to let their squabbles get in the way of saving lives- not this time, at least. If only they’d had their heads on this straight during the whole time loop, world ending, bullshit.
“Do it,” Mack ordered. May ducked into the cockpit, but paused to brush a tear from Daisy’s cheek. The rest of the crew moved to their usual places. Daniel, uncertain of his role, took a few steps towards Daisy, and she gratefully slipped her arm through his.
“I don’t know how useful I’m gonna be for fighting, but I’ll coordinate how I can,” he offered to Mack.
“You can man the Zephyr’s guns, Sousa. We’ll have to shoot their ship down too.”
“Sir yes sir.” His arm twitched in Daisy’s grip, and she realized he’d had the urge to salute Mack. She chuckled to herself, but led him to the gunnery station. He followed, and once he’d taken the seat, she leaned over to speak to him.
“SHIELD doesn’t need to know about this. I trust Peggy, but there are others who won’t be so kind to Inhumans. I’m sure you all remember perfectly well what happens when SHIELD and Inhumans mix,” she drawled. He nodded his understanding, but Mack overheard her.
“Daisy, I’m sorry-” She waved a hand, cutting him off before she had to deal with even more embarrassing grovelling.
“Save it. It was a long time ago, but you’re not the only ones who think that way. I’ve done what I can to change attitudes but it’s not easy in hiding.” The Index didn’t exist, at least not for normal Enhanced people. There was a list of those who’d been convicted of violent crimes, but Daisy understood the importance of that. Constant check-ups for no reason were not a thing in this timeline, thanks to her incessant lobbying, but she knew there were plenty who wanted a much stricter approach towards Enhanced. Revealing the existence of Inhumans could easily be just as disastrous as it was in her time. “We’ll have to handle this ourselves. If anyone at Afterlife asks, Yo-Yo and I are Inhumans from another community, and we prefer to stay hidden. The rest of you are… friends and family.” Daisy didn’t have a better cover story than that just yet, but she’d figure something out.
“What about Jiaying?” Mack asked.
“What about her?” was Daisy’s retort.
“She’ll probably be there,” Coulson said with some hesitancy.
“Probably. I’ll deal with it.”
“You don’t have to do this, Daisy,” Jemma pleaded. Daisy somehow stopped herself from rolling her eyes.
“Yes, I do. I’m not letting my people die. Now let’s get out of here.”
“May, what’s our ETA?” Mack shouted to the cockpit. The Zephyr had taken off, but with artificial gravity it was often hard to tell how quickly they were moving.
“If we head into low orbit? Thirty minutes.” Thirty minutes. Daisy had half an hour to ready herself to face Jiaying again, and to save her people. It felt just like old times, but she wasn’t sure that was such a good thing any more.
Notes:
Yo-Yo's insults (Daisy understood like 50-60%, as did Sousa. Mack and Coulson understood it all):
*”Selfish bastard”
**”I called you what you are. You’re going to leave us again. Do you believe that you can’t fight because you’re married? Coward. This is Lincoln all over again. What will you do when he dies for you too, huh?”
***”I’m not going to fight and die so that she can fuck her new boyfriend in peace. I lost my arms and my powers because I joined SHIELD. She recruited me, and now she's going to abandon us.”Daisy's rant was incredibly cathartic to write.
Chapter 32
Notes:
I have a tumblr for updates now!
https://www.tumblr.com/blog/jainasoloswife
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
At the first opportunity, Daisy slinked off to the cockpit and shut the door behind her. She felt bad for leaving Daniel to the wolves, but she knew he could handle it. Daisy wasn’t going to get another opportunity for this conversation. She slipped into the co-pilot’s seat, enjoying the view of space for a couple of moments. May said nothing, allowing her the space to make her own statement in her own time.
“How long have you known?” Daisy asked.
“Since Enoch told us I had to go. You never could hide what you were thinking from me, even before I got powers.” Daisy inhaled sharply. That long? That was… two years ago? More?
“Mom, I’m so sorry.”
“For what?”
“Staying.”
“Didn’t you hear me back there? I wish I could too. You’ve built a life you’re happy with here, Daisy. That’s not an easy thing to do. I’m so proud of you. We’ll see each other again, it just might take a little while.” Daisy found herself blinking back tears, and from the sniffling sounds May was making, her emotions were definitely bleeding out.
“I know. And, whatever happens with Jiaying, I love you. You didn’t give birth to me, but you also didn’t try to kill me. That’s more meaningful in my book. You’re more of a mother to me than she ever was.” May turned on autopilot with a flick of a finger, stood up from her chair, and wrapped Daisy in a hug. Daisy’s vision was suspiciously blurry when she pulled away, and May kissed her on the cheek.
“I love you too. Now go, get changed. You can’t fight in those clothes, I taught you better than that.” Daisy chuckled and rolled her eyes.
“Yes, mom.”
Thankfully, the command center was empty when she passed through. By the time she got changed into a spare Quake suit (which by some miracle, mostly still fit), the Zephyr was rapidly approaching Afterlife. Mack gathered them all in the command center to hand out their orders. Yo-Yo and Simmons stood on the opposite end of the room from Daisy, who was by Daniel at the weapons station. Their orders were simple. Daisy, Mack, Coulson, and Yo-Yo would venture into Afterlife to hunt down the attacking Chronicoms, as their timeship had already re-cloaked and disappeared. Simmons and Deke were functionally non-combatants, and would stay on board, as would Enoch. The three of them apparently had something to take care of. May would stay in the cockpit, and Daniel stayed at the weapons controls. Deke passed around anti-Chronicom shotgun shells, with each of the three powerless agents taking a little over a dozen. Daisy could dismantle alien robots without Fitzsimmons’ fancy toys.
When the Zephyr landed just outside the compound, and the ramp finally lowered, Daisy was greeted with the most morbidly fascinating battle she’d ever seen. Dozens of Chronicoms (what else could have fashion sense that horrific?) were battling Inhumans all over. Some of the assailants used energy rifles, some human guns, some just their brute strength. She saw four or five powered Inhumans, and a dozen or so potentials. Inhumans fought back with the most impressive display of powers Daisy had ever seen. She had just enough time to take in a small portion of the skirmishes before she leapt into the fight herself. A middle-aged man with blood-red knives in his hands was fighting hand-to-hand with a Chronciom. He managed to lodge his blades into its eyes, tearing its skull apart. A dark-skinned young woman seemed to be creating a bubble around her, everything that got within a few feet slowed to a crawl. She methodically cut into everything that entered her space with a wicked-looking machete. Another Inhuman was making horrific shrieking sounds, seeming to short-circuit any machines it was directed against. There was no sign of Jiaying, although some of the powerless Inhumans fighting with guns looked vaguely familiar. Unless Daisy was mistaken, one of them was Gordon, but with his eyes still intact.
Before the Zephyr’s ramp was all the way down, Daisy and her companions charged into the fray. Mack, Coulson, and Yo-Yo opened fire with their shotguns, and more Chronicoms fell, useless. The familiar calm of battle enveloped her, and everything boiled down to a simple fact: kill or be killed. With two power-backed punches, two of the Chronicoms were destroyed. Daisy waded through the melee towards some of the more isolated Inhumans. A blast of vibrations atomized three more of the damned things, and red-knife-guy was freed up enough to defeat his remaining two attackers. He nodded his thanks at her, then narrowed his eyes.
“Who the hell are you?” Daisy blinked in surprise. He was speaking Mandarin. People didn’t often assume she could understand Chinese.
“I’m an Inhuman. My team and I are here to help. We’re familiar with these things.”
“That’s not an answer. What’s your name? How did you find this place?”
“Louise Wen Sousa. We followed them, but we’d heard rumors of its existence before. Yours?”
“Li. I appreciate the save.”
“No problem. How’s the situation looking?” Daisy paused to beat the shit out of another couple Chronicoms, while Li buried his knife in one’s chest.
“Bad. They’re making a push for the transition rooms. Those are over there.” He gestured towards them, but Daisy’s nod of acknowledgement was only perfunctory. She couldn’t allow herself to seem too familiar with Afterlife or its layout.
“I’ll take care of it. Do you have this area under control?”
“With those shotguns? Absolutely. Go.” Daisy pushed off from the ground, launching herself towards the bank of power-shielded rooms. She could sense at least ten Chronicoms, and an incredibly volatile humanoid figure inside one of the rooms. The rest seemed to be empty, but the Chronicoms were methodically making their way through them. They were hunting for something. Where the hell was Jiaying?
Daisy landed amidst four Chronicoms, all of whom turned to look at her without missing a beat.
“Hey guys. Been a while. Remember me?”
“Daisy J-” She slammed her heel into the ground before the Chronicom could finish her name, and all four of the robots surrounding her shattered to pieces. Daisy allowed herself half a moment of satisfaction before pushing onwards towards the main force. She worked her way through them methodically, taking scratches and cuts and bruises and beatings, passing by corpses of Inhumans who were dead because she was too slow, not looking too closely in case she knew any of them. Time blurred, but finally she just had one left, standing in front of the one room with someone inside of it.
As she watched, one of the doors to the occupied transitioning room was thrown open by a Chronicom. Daisy could sense someone inside, someone she had to protect. Whoever was in there couldn’t be more than just a kid, Inhumans at Afterlife went through terrigenesis at 17 or 18. Before she could blow it to pieces Daisy heard a blood-curdling scream, in strangled Chinese, that she thought sounded like “ Stay back, I’m dangerous” . The Chronicom Daisy was chasing was suddenly blasted backwards by a beam of golden light thick as a tree trunk. Daisy could feel its energy rippling through the air around it, and when the Chronicom hit the wall across the hallway, its entire chest was a smoldering hole. She cautiously approached the doorway, heart tearing in two from the sobs she heard.
“Holy shit. I killed him. He’s dead.” It sounded like a young woman, speaking English this time. Daisy reached the door, and saw the girl who was inside. Curled into the fetal position on the floor, arcs of golden energy were pulsing around her. It was fascinating, and beautiful, like the Northern Lights brought down to Earth. Daisy approached slowly, making sure to broadcast her presence, but carefully stopping her posture from at all resembling how one would approach a wounded animal. She knew how this felt.
“It’s okay, you’re safe. That wasn’t a person, it was an alien robot trying to invade your home. And, by the way, that might be the coolest power I’ve ever seen. What’s your name?”
The girl sobbed once more, and looked up at Daisy. Her eyes were glowing the same gold as the energy pulsing around her.
“Who are you? Get away, I can’t control it. I’ll end up hurting you too.”
“My name is Louise. You’re not going to hurt me. I’m an Inhuman, I came here to fight the people who attacked you. Looks like you did my job for me, I’m impressed. Trust me when I say I know what it’s like to have a power that you can’t control, that can hurt you or others. But it really does get better.” The girl sobbed again, and Daisy realized she must be in incredible pain. She took another couple steps closer, vaguely registering the remaining Chronicoms being destroyed around the compound. “What’s your name?”
“I’m K-Kora. It burns. So much. Feels like fire in my skin.”
“I get it. When I first went through the Mist, everything was buzzing. My bones broke for years, my head hurt from all the new sounds I could hear, I almost brought down a few buildings. But I learned. The man who taught me, he could control electricity. He said every atom in his body had a different charge at first, and it burned him. But he got better too, and learned how to do incredible things. Who’s your transitioner?” The golden glow of Kora’s eyes seemed to dim slightly, and something akin to hope flashed across her face before she curled in on herself again.
“My mom. But she can’t help, no one can. They all hate me. It’s been two days. I’m supposed to be able to control it.”
“It took me years to control my powers the way I do now. But maybe I can help with yours.” The girl shuddering in pain reminded her so much of herself it hurt. Daisy had hoped that Afterlife would be kinder to Inhumans with destructive abilities than SHIELD had, but it didn’t seem that was the case. Maybe it was Kora herself who’d figured out the lesson plan Jiaying had given her, all those years ago. Daisy didn’t remember ever seeing or hearing about Kora, however. What had happened to her?
“What can you do?” Kora looked at her with hope again, and Daisy wanted to sob. Kora’s story was too familiar, and they even looked a bit alike. She’d adopt this fucking kid if she had to, no one deserved to hate themselves this much. Daisy looked around the room, but almost everything in it was scorched and in pieces. Daisy turned her attention to a broken table, and sent a blast of concussive force at it. It turned to splinters, and Kora’s soft ‘ wow ’ was incredibly gratifying. She sat on the ground next to her, ignoring the small amounts of pain she felt when an arc of energy passed through her skin.
“It’s not all destructive, either. Our powers are beautiful. I can make glasses of water sing. I can hear the heartbeats of everyone around me, sense where things are. I can save lives, make shields, make things shake. I control vibrations. You look like you control some sort of energy, and you’re bottling it in. It hurts when I do that too. Take a breath, focus on your surroundings. Can you sense anything?” Kora did as she instructed, and her glow dimmed slightly. Daisy registered two people moving towards her and Kora, but ignored them. The Chronicom attackers were all dead, cleanup could wait. This kid needed help.
“It’s like… it’s like there’s beams of sunlight hitting me from every direction, and coming from within. Some are brighter. I can see the power in your radio, and the heat of your body. And the people approaching us. I can sense the sunlight outside, and everything else is really low-level.”
“Okay, good. Now, instead of bottling everything up, let your power bleed out. You don’t need to do it all at once. If you try to bottle it up, eventually, you’ll burst like a dam, and that’s when you or others can get hurt. Here, touch my arm. See how I’m buzzing?” After a moment of hesitation, Kora’s fingertips dimmed, and she touched Daisy’s extended arm, gasping at what she felt. Daisy felt the blistering heat from under Korra’s skin, but somehow, it felt more like a hot shower or warm sunshine than it did fire. “If I turn the vibrations inward, my bones break. If you turn your power inward, you feel like you’re burning. Just… let it out. All at once, instead of in bursts. Once you’re not hurting yourself, you can let it leak more gradually, so it doesn’t build up unless you want it to. Then, you can learn to direct it more closely. Shoot beams and shit, which is super cool.” Kora grinned again, and closed her eyes. Slowly, Daisy felt the heat coming off of the girl- who couldn’t be more than 18- increase. It felt like sitting next to a radiator. Even so, the golden arcs surrounding her dimmed, and eventually went away completely, except for the occasional fizzle of energy. By the time it was done, Daisy couldn’t be prouder of the kid. It had taken her years to learn how to do that, both with lessons from Afterlife’s Inhumans and another decade of meditation and practice on her own. Kora had been raised here, though. She must have had a lifetime of practice under her belt.
When Kora opened her eyes, they weren’t glowing, but were instead a deeply familiar brown: the same exact shape and color Daisy saw when she looked in the mirror. Kora grinned, which looked equally familiar, and threw herself into Daisy’s arms. Although she was surprised, she returned the hug tightly. Kora’s warmth was comfortable, like meeting an old friend again. Daisy had known this place was kind of fucked up, but if they’d failed Kora so badly that she was this touched by some basic compassion, it was worse than she’d thought.
“Thank you. Thank you so much. Can you come back and teach me more?” The girl looked up at her again with those too-familiar eyes, and Daisy felt her stomach plummet as she began to put pieces together. She kept her voice steady, and projected as much hope and empathy into her voice as she could. She desperately wanted to say yes, but this situation had just gotten so much more complicated.
“I’d love to, but that depends. My people kind of barged in here without an invitation, following those alien robots. I’m still not sure why they attacked Afterlife of all places, but we had to stop them. I’ll need to talk to your elders.”
“Yes. You will.” Daisy turned around, and found herself face to face with Jiaying, unscarred, but filled with the same cold anger that still gave her nightmares. “Who are you? How did you find this place? And what are you doing with my daughter?” Even though she’d suspected Kora’s identity, their mother stating the connection outright was a punch to the gut. Daisy had to fight to keep the emotion out of her voice. She had a sister . Kora. What had happened to her to make her gone from Afterlife by the 2010s? Why hadn’t anybody said anything? How had this sweet, powerful, kind child been failed so badly by her own mother that she was in so much pain? Jiaying had been so helpful in getting Daisy’s powers under control. Had she learned from Kora? Their powers did have some eerie similarities. It was a shame Jiaying’s lessons had been learned so late. For the sake of this girl, Daisy could get through a conversation with Jiaying. She’d come here to help the Inhumans, and that’s what she would do.
“I’m a friend, I promise. My name is Louise Wen Sousa, I’m an Inhuman too. My team and I tracked the people who attacked you here. We’ve been fighting them for a while.” Jiaying’s eyes narrowed further in suspicion, but her gaze softened when she looked at Kora. “I talked to Li when I got here. He’s- he’s on his way, actually.” Mack rushed into the room, glancing between Daisy and Jiaying with a worried expression, then at Kora with a curious one. Daisy just shook her head slightly. That was a conversation for later.
“It’s been a long and bloody day, forgive me if I don’t believe you. You all have quite a bit of explaining to do. How the hell did you find this place? How did these robots find us? What do you want?”
“Ma’am. We’re SHIELD. Those were Chronicoms, they’re alien robots. Bad news. It’s our mandate to stop them from wreaking the havoc they want to, and we thought you might need some help,” Mack said. Daisy sensed another humanoid rapidly approaching. The last of the Chronicom presences, however, seemed to have stilled. They’d won this engagement. But how many more Chroncioms were out there?
“You work for SHIELD?” Jiaying asked slowly.
“After a fashion. They don’t know we’re here, and don’t know I’m Inhuman. I understand the value of secrecy, and the value of having a seat at the table,” Daisy said. That answer seemed to satisfy Jiaying.
“The SSR saved my life once. They freed me from a HYDRA base, right before I was going to be experimented on by one of their officers.” Jiaying was speaking about SHIELD with gratitude , not hatred. Her cold, angry gaze had softened into worry, and without the scarring on her face, it was easier to see her as a different person from the one who’d hurt her. This was the woman Cal had fallen for, the one who wanted to be a doctor. Who begged the elders of her village not to sacrifice herself for her lifespan. But what had happened to the daughter she’d already had?
“I know, I’ve seen the files. I work with several of the agents who were there that day. I’m the one who killed Reinhardt, and I’ve made sure the Diviner is beyond their grasp. It’s well-hidden,” Daisy assured her.
“Louise has been a huge help, mom. I’m in less pain now than I have been since I went through the Mist. Look, I’m not even glowing,” Kora spewed, all rapid-fire excitement. Jiaying smiled, and tentatively stepped towards Kora. Choking back a sob, the girl threw herself into her mother’s arms. They embraced for a few moments, until Li stepped into the room. Jiaying stepped back, and turned towards the man. He nodded at Daisy, then sized up Mack.
“Afterlife is secure. These people saved a lot of lives. Four of them came off the ship, including this one. Alexander sensed another three on board- but he says he can’t make out one of them” Daisy wasn’t sure if Li even could speak English, or maybe he was just trying to stop the unfamiliar Mack from understanding him.
“Two of our number are made from the same stuff as Chronicoms, but they’re on our side ,” Daisy explained. Li nodded his acknowledgement. Apparently this Alexander guy could sense human life? That was a cool power.
“How many did we lose?” Jiaying asked.
“At least seven. It’s difficult to sort out the robot bodies from our own. But too many,” Li said solemnly. In English this time. So he could speak it.
“Then out of gratitude, towards you for saving my daughter’s life, towards your team for saving Afterlife, and towards Agent Carter for her rescue during the War, you and your team are welcome here, Agent Sousa. Though it would be preferred if only you and the other Inhuman returned. Humans are a rarity here. You’re sure none of them are potentials?”
“Miss Rodridguez claims to have powers, but says she’s unable to access them at the moment,” Li offered.
“I suppose in theory, some could be. You’ll forgive me if I don’t use the Diviner on possible humans. And yes, Yo-Yo was… exposed to a contaminant. Her powers haven’t worked since then. We haven’t had the time to put her through proper treatments yet,” Daisy explained. It was much easier to talk if she was keeping to a more professional demeanor.
“Of course. And, on a personal note- I would like it if you did return. Kora seems to have benefited from the lessons you imparted. She’s improved more from five minutes with you than she has since coming out of the Mist. I’d appreciate it if you’d be willing to serve as her transitioner. We have an Inhuman who can create Einstein-Rosen bridges, and bring you here whenever you’d like, much more discreetly than your plane allows.” Daisy wasn’t at all sure how she felt about returning to this place, to be honest, in spite of the earnest, near-pleading nature of Jiaying’s offer. She had the Chronicoms to focus on, and SHIELD. Although… Kora was looking at her with pleading eyes. She’d helped this kid, her sister, with just some basic advice. The same lessons Jiaying had imparted to her in the future. How selfish would Daisy have to be to turn down the offer of sanctuary, to refuse the opportunity to make her sister’s life better, just because she was afraid of a past that had never happened? That she’d gone to extreme lengths to ensure would never happen?
“Thank you. I think I’d like that too.”
Notes:
A note on Kora's age:
I'm aware that many people consider her to be in her teens when we meet her in S7 (1983). I chose to make her 17 in 1973 (born in 1956) instead for several reasons. First, Dianne Doan was born in 1990, so she was in her late 20s when she filmed S7. Inhumans at Afterlife usually go through the Mist in their late teens (17-19), Lincoln says this is for physiological reasons. They're old enough to have trained for years before going through, and young enough to be adaptable. lastly, you don't advocate for murder unless you're out of options- nor do you contemplate suicide. Li and Kora's feelings of helplessness make more sense if she's been struggling for ten years. That also explains Kora's emotional immaturity in S7, if she's been functionally locked away since she was 17, for a full decade.
Also- the story I'm trying to tell just works better if Daisy meets Kora only days or weeks after she goes through the Mist. I made her as young as I felt was reasonable while still making that work.
Chapter 33
Notes:
TW for mentions of gun violence and death of a teenager
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
May 23, 1973
Daisy’s old team pitched in to help clean up after the battle, with Simmons being called down from the Zephyr to provide medical attention to the wounded, and the rest of the crew working to remove the destroyed Chronicom gear and weapons. Kora was helpful as well, with the useful ability to incinerate whatever was left behind after the robots finally melted into puddles. They all avoided conversation as much as possible, but it was becoming less and less feasible as time dragged on. Daisy extricated herself from the throng as soon as she could, all but running back up the Zephyr’s ramp. She needed time to process what the fuck had just happened. Thankfully, Daniel was waiting for her in the command center, having stolen what was usually Jemma’s seat. She found her husband searching SHIELD channels for reports of Chronicom activity on one screen, and perusing no-longer-accurate history files on another. Stark had developed rudimentary touch screen tech years ago, thanks to the old Quinjet and Daisy’s phone, and Daniel had become familiar with it. He looked up from his workstation when she entered, grinning at her.
“You found her? Mack said it was all clear down there.” Daisy allowed herself to collapse into his arms before she answered, and was grateful that he wrapped her in a hug without a word.
“Yeah. She’s alive,” she mumbled into his shoulder.
“This can’t be easy.”
“It isn’t. I know who my real mother is, the one who was there for me when I needed her. Who didn’t, you know, try to kill me. Melinda May is more of a mom to me than Jiaying ever was. Even if this version of her never got cut up by Whitehall, it’s… weird.”
“Maybe now’s your chance to experience what she was like before that. You should talk to her,” Daniel said. Daisy pulled far enough away from her husband to glare at him, though it was more in confusion than anger.
“No, I shouldn’t, she can’t know who I am,” she argued.
“Why not?” Daisy sputtered as she tried to formulate a response.
“Because of the timeline-”
“The timeline is screwed. And look who you’re talking to, I’m supposed to be dead by now. You chose to scrap the timeline twenty years ago, and I’m glad you did.” His earnestness was enough to defuse her annoyance at being cut off, but Daisy wasn’t convinced.
“Still, we shouldn’t tell her I’m from the future! That can’t end well, it’s the whole reason I’m still hiding my identity! There’s no telling how she’d respond, what she’d try to do. Having a chance to pre-empt her mistakes when she’s made so many. Or maybe she’d just try to wipe out humanity again! My mother is dangerous, manipulative, and unpredictable.” Daisy wasn’t sure she could look that woman in the eyes without remembering what it felt like to have her life drained away.
“You told Jack, and Barnes. They’re not exactly helpless. You told me that your father talked about how caring and sweet Jiaying was, how she was different after Whitehall,” Daniel pointed out.
“Thompson was going to kill us, and Barnes is a puppy dog. Jiaying is… not.”
“Point is… you got a rare opportunity here. I got a list of people long gone by now I’d… I’d do anything to have one last stolen moment with. I know you do too, regardless of what space-time has to say about it. Even if you don’t tell her who you are, you should get to know her a bit.”
“I don’t know…” Daisy trailed off, and her husband squeezed her arm.
“I’ll be your chaperone, how about that? You need me to bail you out, I’ll be right there.”
“You really are a square, aren’t you?”
“Isn’t that why you married me?” Daniel said, eyes glittering. Daisy smirked and kissed him on the cheek.
“I’ll talk to her. But I won’t reveal who I am. I can’t… I just can’t.” This man knew everything about her. Why was it so hard to tell him what she’d just learned?
“What else is going on, Dais?” Daniel asked. Damn him and his perceptiveness.
“There’s this girl. An Inhuman who just went through Terrigenesis, who couldn’t control her powers. They’re destructive, but not too different from mine. I was able to help her, and I promised I’d come back, serve as her transitioner.” Daniel nodded slowly, waiting for her to continue. Damn him for being able to read her so well. Daisy sighed. “She’s my sister. Half-sister. Her name is Kora, and she’s Jiaying’s daughter.”
“Wow. I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Neither was I.”
“Are you surprised, though?” He asked.
“Not really? It makes sense, she’s so old, I’d be shocked if I was her only kid. I don’t actually have any idea how old Jiaying is, just that she was already an adult in World War II. She’s probably older than you are, at the least. What concerns me more is that I’d never heard of her before.”
“You think something happened between 1973 and 2015, to take Kora out of the picture. And you want to stop it.”
“Yeah. I do. Is that so bad?” Kora was a good kid, a sweet kid. She deserved to live a long, happy life.
“No, not at all. It’s noble and understandable. But if you’re going to do this, do it right. It’s not fair if you expect this kid to be something she isn’t, especially if you don’t tell her that you’re sisters,” Daniel pointed out.
“Telling them we’re from the future would have all the same problems as SHIELD.”
“I know, and I agree with you. But let’s take a minute, get your story straight. Then, go back out there, and take care of whatever you need to.”
It took less than five minutes for the two highly-trained spies to solidify her cover story. They left the Zephyr soon after that, and were immediately the center of unwanted attention. A young man with curly hair and bright blue eyes jogged up to her, and Daisy was no less shocked with her close-up of the man than she had been at a distance.
“You’re Louise, right? I’m Gordon, nice to meet you.” Daisy took the proffered hand, trying not to stare at Gordon’s eyes. Wow, this was so weird.
“Nice to meet you too,” she said.
“Jiaying wants to speak with you. Alone. She’s in her office- it’s the room down that way, to the left.”
Daisy nodded her thanks and followed Gordon’s directions to the same place where Jiaying had once faked the incident that started her war on SHIELD. She appreciated Daniel’s attempt to follow her, but this would go smoother if she obeyed the instructions. She signalled for him to stay back, and he did so, but was careful to keep a line of sight between himself and the building Gordon had directed them to. She passed by Mack and Yo-Yo on the way over, chatting with an Inhuman she recognized. Enoch and Coulson were moving heavy objects, and May seemed to be sitting on a bench, people-watching. Daisy felt a wave of reassurance sent to her by her real mother, and smiled her thanks. As she approached the office, Daisy could hear the unmistakable sound of an argument conducted at loud volumes. A normal human wouldn’t have been able to hear anything, but with her sensitivity to vibrations, Daisy could make it out with ease. She slowed her pace, tuning into the vibrations of the air more closely.
“Are you insane? They know where we are! So what if some of them are Inhuman, or if the Louise woman helped Kora. I’m grateful that they saved us, but you can’t seriously mean to let them leave, let alone return! This is a massive security risk.” That voice belonged to Li, the knife guy, and he did not sound happy. And if he was speaking Chinese, that meant he was probably talking to…
“You’re being paranoid,” Jiaying said.
“Paranoid! They know too much, it doesn’t make sense! Louise asked Kora about her transitioner. How could she know about that? How could they have heard rumors of Afterlife unless we have a leak! Isn’t it convenient that they just happened to show up after the robots did!”
“They’re with SHIELD. I had Jagat do some digging-”
“It’s been twenty minutes!”
“That was enough to verify, he just went to a library. Look!” Daisy heard the sound of paper rustling, followed by Li scoffing.
“What am I looking at, Jiaying?”
“Look, there, in the background. I knew she looked familiar. This Louise woman is the one who defeated Barnes, at the Kennedy assassination.”
“If she was one of us, that would explain how she pulled that off…”
“And the man next to her? He was there when the SSR saved me from Reinhardt. Jim Morita, one of the Howling Commandos. I trust these people, Li. This makes twice that SHIELD saved my life, and she helped Kora. I agree some questions need to be answered. That’s why you’re here. But I don’t see any reason why the Inhumans shouldn’t be treated like any other member of this community. Not everyone here was born into Afterlife, we’ve always taken in other Inhumans that we’ve found.”
“The boss, Mack. He’s too evasive. He won’t tell us anything. The other Inhuman, the injured one, even more so. They’re hiding something.”
“If they wanted us dead, they could’ve let the robots wipe us out. Besides, with Louise’s powers, she could snap all our necks without a second thought. No, we’re not at risk from them. If she’s been with SHIELD for this long, with powers, and hasn’t sold us all out yet, we’re okay. Staying hidden is still my policy, Li.” With one last harrumph from the man, the argument died out. Daisy took a deep breath, steadying herself, and walked the last few paces to Jiaying’s door. She carefully smoothed out her face, removing any sign of what she’d just heard, and knocked. Li opened the door within three seconds, and gestured her to an open seat across the desk from Jiaying. Daisy took it, and wondered if it was the same chair Gonzales died in. Jiaying smiled at her, while Li took up position behind Jiaying and to her right. He had a box clenched tightly in his hands.
“We have some questions for you,” he began. Jiaying raised a hand for silence, and smiled again.
“I’m sorry about all this, but something like this has never happened before. We’ve never been found by outsiders, and we’ve never heard of Inhumans not going through the Mist here. First thing’s first, we just need to make sure you are who you claim. You understand?” Her voice was sweet, but Daisy could hear the familiar steel underneath it. This woman looked younger than Daisy did, but she knew her mother was far older and far smarter.
“Yes, of course. Let me guess, there’s a Diviner in there?” Li smiled without mirth and opened the box, passing it across the table towards Daisy.
“When humans touch this, they die-” Daisy cut him off by grabbing the Kree artifact, taking some perverse joy in the look of shock on his face as it lit up orange, before putting it back down. Jiaying shot Li a look that clearly said ‘I told you so’.
“Now that that’s settled. You’re Inhuman, you have powers, and you’ve clearly been trained to use them. How did all this happen? We thought we were the only ones with Terrigen, let alone multiple Inhumans in one place. Kora mentioned a man with electrical powers who taught you?” Daisy nodded, running through the backstory she and Daniel had prepared. It was a careful mix of the backstory in SHIELD’s files and the bits and pieces Daisy had already been stupid enough to let slip.
“My father- he died many years ago- was a potential. He’d heard the stories from his grandmother, and he passed them on to me. When I was accidentally exposed on a mission, I recognized what had happened. HYDRA had been stockpiling everything they could find that was alien, and they found some Terrigen, just a few crystals. I’m still not sure where they got it, the years right after the War were messy. My mom isn’t an Inhuman, but she does have other powers. She helped me learn to control my emotions, which helped somewhat. I did eventually find the man I mentioned. He taught me more, but died saving my life. He’d been exposed earlier than me, but never told me how or exactly when. Elena works for me, she was exposed from the same batch as me, but a few years later.” To her relief, both Jiaying and Li seemed to relax a bit, and their hearts slowed. They bought it.
“You’ve lost a lot of people, Louise. I’m so sorry,” Jiaying said. Daisy brushed off the sympathy.
“Yeah, so am I. In good news, though, I was able to destroy the Monolith.” Instead of the gasps of shock or maybe spiels of praise she was expecting, Li and Jiaying just looked at each other with confusion.
“The what?” Li asked.
“The Kree Monolith? Big black rock with holes in it? Turns to liquid, is a portal? Alveus on the other side?” That description got the reaction she was looking for. Both of the other Inhumans stared at Daisy with shock.
“How did you…”
“HYDRA had it. I found it with my powers raiding one of their bases, and destroyed it. I took out the remaining shards over the years. Every last piece of it is gone. Our people are safe,” Daisy explained. While Jiaying seemed relieved, she was still suspicious.
“Do you have proof?” Her so-called mother asked.
“No, I wiped out every trace I could find. I know what that thing can do. I didn’t want to leave any breadcrumbs. You know the group of worshippers who’ve been trying to get him back? HYDRA was founded out of that cult. A lot of its leadership were members.” Jiaying turned around in her chair, digging through a cabinet and pulling out some documents while she muttered.
“I’d heard whispers of such a thing over the centuries, but I never really believed it. If half the stories about Alveus are true…” Centuries? Holy shit, how old was she? Daisy had to work harder, but she kept her impassive mask.
“Trust me. They’re true. And you’re going to want to destroy that Kree beacon too. It won’t do anyone any good, and the Reapers couldn’t have defeated him anyway.”
“You are remarkably well-informed, Louise,” Li commented drily.
“I’m a spy, it’s my job.” She grinned lopsidedly, but the man was not amused. “My powers. I can sense shit even if I can’t see it. I know where the Kree city is too, but that’s well-hidden enough as it is.” Li and Jiaying exchanged another inscrutable look, before they both turned their attention back to Daisy. After a terrifyingly long moment, Jiaying spoke.
“Thank you, Louise. You can go.” Daisy took her up on the offer without a moment’s hesitation, and returned to her team and husband. There was work to do. Daisy saw Kora from a distance a handful of times, but Jiaying seemed to be busy fussing over her. There were, to the shock of Afterlife’s residents, no outbursts of energy. Just a slow, steady hum. The young woman was glowing slightly, though it only showed when she stepped into the shade. Whenever she caught Daisy’s eye, she smiled broadly. It was heart-wrenching, and Daisy could already tell she’d be completely unable to leave this place.
Twenty minutes of grunt work later, Mack gathered SHIELD together outside the Zephyr’s ramp.
“We have to get back to the States, make sure the Chronicoms haven’t tried anything else,” the director said. “Their ship got away. They’re planning something big, and this was probably just one strike.” Daisy’s sister appeared seemingly out of nowhere, barreling into her side and wrapping her in a hug.
“Promise you’ll come back?” She asked. Daisy chuckled and returned the hug, with Daniel and May both watching them fondly. Even at 17, Kora seemed to have retained a youthful innocence that Daisy had lost long before she reached that age. Once, she would’ve been jealous of the life her sister was able to have. Now, she just wanted to make sure the girl got to keep that innocence.
“I will. I promise,” Daisy said. Kora smiled at her, and took a few steps back, falling into place with their mother, who was approaching the gathering of agents. After a few muttered words too quiet for Daisy to hear, Kora stepped slightly farther away, while her mother walked into speaking distance. Jiaying examined the other agents with scrutiny, and they returned the suspicion. Yo-Yo kept as far away from Daisy and her family as was possible, and Deke wasn’t fully briefed on the situation, but the other agents were intimately familiar with Jiaying’s war. They knew how dangerous she was, and Daisy wouldn’t be surprised if robo-Coulson still held a grudge over his hand. For better or for worse, Jiaying spoke only to Daisy, without addressing the question.
“Jagat will set up a portal for you in a few days. If you’re coming back, I’d like you to be Kora’s transitioner. I don’t know where or how you learned what you did, but it’s working for her far better than my lessons are. You, Elena, are welcome here as well.” Yo-Yo smiled thinly, but made no response.
“I’d be happy to. I’ll see you all soon.”
Daisy wasn’t sure if Jemma’s disapproval or Kora’s smile made that decision more worth it.
-
Officer James Wilson, Milwaukee PD, had never seen anything like this. A teenage kid was dead, shot in broad daylight, in a very targeted drive-by outside a grocery store. James had been walking the beat when he heard gunshots and screams from a few blocks over, but he and his partner had arrived too late to catch the shooter. Who the hell was fucked in the head enough to do something like this? Homicides were never pretty, kids even less so. But this boy must have had such a bright future ahead of him. Now, he was face-down on the asphalt, in a pool of his own blood. James was kneeling next to the poor kid, looking through his pockets for an ID, while his partner took statements from eyewitnesses. He already knew what the bone-chilling scream meant when he heard it, but that never made it any easier.
James had seen too many homicides to not recognize the grief of a loved one when he heard it. A gray-haired woman pushed through the crowd of onlookers, only stopping when James’ partner laid a hand on her arm. She collapsed to her knees, staring in open-mouthed shock, tears running down her cheeks. James stood slowly, and walked over to the woman. He did his best to keep a balance between sympathy and professionalism in his voice.
“Ma’am, I’m so sorry for your loss. Can you tell me your son’s name?”
“C-Cal. My boy! He’s gone!”
“We’re going to find who did this and make them suffer, ma’am. I promise you that. What’s your name?”
“L-Louise J-Johnson.” Mrs. Johnson was rendered all but catatonic after she shared her name. His partner tried to get some more information out of her, but she was too shaken by grief to express it clearly. James eventually took pity on the poor woman. The police could check in with her later. In the meantime, James would do everything he could to hunt down whatever animals had killed this kid, and make sure they spent the rest of their very short lives in indescribable pain.
Notes:
Reminder that I have a tumblr now where I ramble about this fic sometimes: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/jainasoloswife
Chapter 34
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
May 23, 1973
Their arrival at Camp Lehigh was not nearly as calm as Daniel hoped. The Zephyr was far too conspicuous, and impossible to answer questions about. He’d instead radioed in to LA once they were passing over the West Coast, and had a Quinjet waiting in a field in Pennsylvania. The docking mechanisms that connected the original Quinjet to the Zephyr had long since been scrapped in new production models as a vestigial trait, leaving May to set the massive ship to autopilot. Moments after it set down, cloaked, mere minutes outside of SHIELD’s headquarters, a Quinjet filled to the brim with SHIELD agents from the future landed in one of the camp’s hangars. The flight itself had been mildly awkward and deeply weird. Daniel took the opportunity to study the people he’d heard so much about more closely.
Daisy’s spiel had carried the weight of truth, and he was more than proud to finally hear her complaints voiced, but it had left a heavy cloud hanging over the rest of the trip. She’d confided her frustrations with her old team to him over the years, bit by bit, as time washed away the nostalgia and excuses she’d built up for them. If the chance to let out all her anger at once was half as therapeutic as it seemed, Daniel knew there was a huge weight lifted from his wife’s shoulders. Thankfully, Elena had spent the flight back in the Zephyr’s healing chamber, so nobody had died on the way. Even so, it was difficult. Deke kept shooting him dirty looks, and Jemma was analyzing every detail of both him and Daisy with more than a hint of scorn.
Despite their internal divisions, the group of agents that descended from the Quinjet’s ramp was far larger than that which had slipped away from the Krazy Kanoe several hours earlier. Daniel was no stranger to sideways glances and mutters behind his back, but these seemed more out of confusion than the usual curiosity. He was grateful to spot Thompson walking towards him, even as he pretended not to hear Coulson’s excited whispering.
“Sousa! Who the hell are all these people?” Jack hissed, once they were out of earshot for the various others milling about.
“Relax, Jack. They’re friends.” Daniel assured him.
“You don’t have any friends.” The long-running joke hadn’t gotten any more amusing with time, and at the moment, Daniel simply didn’t have the energy to put up with it.
“These are very old friends . Some of them helped Louise and Mei save my life. Is that understood?” Thompson looked between the assembled agents with wide eyes, nodding slowly as he did.
“Yup. All clear. But you owe me a proper explanation later.” Daniel barely had the time to clasp his friend’s shoulder and nod his agreement before a too-familiar man was running up to him. He barely had time to sigh before the bastard opened his mouth.
-
“Deputy Director! We’ve got a problem.” All Daisy wanted was to take a very long nap, preferably with Daniel and their cat, but today was not her day. Meeting her crazy-ass mother wasn’t enough, her new least favorite SHIELD agent had to show up too.
“Could you be any less specific, Agent Blake?” Daniel snapped, clearly just as angered by the asshat’s presence as she was. Jack, standing next to her husband, was analyzing Daisy and her old team carefully. Catching her eye, he raised a single eyebrow in a silent question, but she just shook her head. He nodded his understanding- they’d discuss this another time- and turned to scowl at the man who, unfortunately, ran the Communications divison.
“Blake?” Coulson whispered in Daisy’s ear.
“Felix’s father, William. He’s slightly less of an asshole. Did you know he was a nepo baby?” Daisy explained quietly.
“No, I did not. I’m surprised you hired him.”
“He’s been here longer than me. I’ve had a close eye kept on him, but without any of the typical Blake family activities-”
“Like terrorism?” Mack asked, still whispering.
“Exactly, like terrorism- there’s been no reason to fire him.” The elder Agent Blake was a strong advocate for a crackdown on Enhanced individuals, a role he’d stepped into even further since Flynn’s recent retirement. Needless to say, he and Daisy did not get along.
“The computers, sir. They’ve all started acting weird.” Blake explained in a rush. That got Daisy’s attention.
“Show me. Now,” she demanded. The man paled, instantly shutting up and escorting her to the computer room, her old team, Daniel, and Jack trailing behind. With a brief order from her husband, Jack and Will were both left outside, and another order from May had the overwhelmed technicians scrambling to leave.
Over the years she’d been in the past, Daisy had managed to accelerate SHIELD’s technological development somewhat. It wasn’t much- she was a programmer, not an engineer- but with Stark’s reverse-engineering of every piece of tech he could find in the old Quinjet, there was a significant boost to the original timeline’s technology. Each SHIELD base even had a handful of fax machines and rudimentary computers, all networked together, and firewalled by Daisy herself. She was starting to regret that. Camp Lehigh’s faxes were spitting out reams of information on Afterlife, and Chronicom writing was flying across the screens of the computer.
Daisy was sorely tempted to just destroy it all, but that sort of thing would just reveal the same secrets she was trying to hide. She, Enoch, and Deke all but threw themselves at the machinery, trying desperately to purge the Chronicoms from the system. After a moment of staring at the screens with his brow furrowed, Coulson spoke.
“Turns out I can read Chronicom. And I think I know what to do.”
Daisy had always known Coulson was a nerd, but apparently dying and coming back as an LMD had turned him into a computer geek too. She was almost jealous, he seemed even more skilled than she was. But despite their progress, they couldn’t dislodge the Chronicoms from SHIELD’s systems.
“It says… her name is Sybil. I think that’s what the head Chronicom is called. She’s uploading information, obviously, but the radio system is being hijacked too, reconfigured for deep-space comms.” Coulson muttered.
“We’ll have to fix that later. We have bigger problems.”
Finally, after what felt like hours but may have only been minutes, Deke yanked a cable out of the wall and the screens finally shut off. She probably should’ve thought of that earlier.
“Sir, is everything alright? Director Carter just arrived and she wants to know-” Blake stood just inside the threshold of the room, trailing off as he took in the utter chaos inside. His brow furrowed and frown slowly deepened as he took in the scattered sheets of paper, lightly smoking computers, and piles of wires. Eventually, his gaze settled on one sheet, half-stuck under his foot. He bent to pick it up before Daisy could come up with a sane reason for him not to. “What’s an Inhuman?”
May 24, 1973
Word of the cyberattack- not a common occurrence in any version of the 1970s- had drawn many of SHIELD’s top agents from other bases to Camp Lehigh. By the time Peggy had calmed down Blake, and convinced him to stay quiet, her office was packed to the brim, and the clock declared it to be past 4am. Daisy knew her old team was scattered around the base, repairing computers and purging the Chronicoms from the network, while trying to stay under the radar. The less technically apt among them were also keeping an eye out for any sort of Chronicom activity, but watching over the entire world at once was difficult without the internet. She wasn’t sure of their success, but honestly, it wasn’t her priority. She’d promised Jiaying that Afterlife would stay secret, and she intended to keep it that way. She’d watched once before as Inhumans were hunted by bigots and persecuted by governments. Secrecy was her people’s refuge, the only one they really had. One of the reasons Daisy had enjoyed living in the past so much was because it granted her anonymity, no one knew she was an Inhuman, and no one hated her for it. She wasn’t eager to give that up.
“What do we know?” Howard asked without preamble. Peggy was behind her desk, nursing a coffee, while Stark leaned against it, Daniel and Jack sat across from it, Daisy paced back and forth, and three other agents stood by the door. William Blake, Head of Communications, Rob Keller, Head of Operations, and Peter Lane, his second. Jack had risen to lead Administration years ago, while Daniel was there in his capacity as Deputy Director, Howard as Head of Sci-Tech, and Daisy as chief of STRIKE. Only Rick Stoner, the new Head of Defense, was absent. STRIKE, thank fuck, wasn’t directly under Ops’ purview, so Daisy only had to report to Daniel and Peggy. Pete had been an early Hercules agent, one who she’d beaten the shit out of on more than one occasion. He was tough, smart, and mildly bigoted- or at least had been twenty years ago. Now, he was rather less tough, just about as smart, and way more bigoted. The wonders of aging.
“All Sousa let me see was that there’s a colony of Enhanced, called Inhumans, somewhere in Nepal,” Blake spat.
“Which Sousa?” Jack asked with his typical dry sarcasm, but it only earned him a glare from Howard. SHIELD’s top scientist had lost much of his humor since the fall of HYDRA, turning into the somewhat bitter hardass that the history books had always described him as, despite his marriage to Maria Stark and the birth of his son, Tony. Daisy had almost lost her mind the first time she met the kid. Despite being only three years old, he was already whip-smart. Only she and May knew what he had the potential to become, but both of them hoped he wouldn’t have to.
“SHIELD should take these Inhumans into custody until we’ve determined the threat they pose,” Blake argued. “We need to find them and detain them, quickly. I don’t know why you’re so protective over them,” he said with a gesture towards Daisy, then Daniel, “but it’s counterproductive.”
“That is not going to happen,” Peggy stated, her tone leaving no room for argument.
“The Index, then?” Pete offered. It took all of Daisy’s self-control to bite back a response. She couldn’t afford to seem too close to this, Blake already suspected something was off. She had to let other people argue for her, and trust in her colleagues, or else risk losing everything.
“The Index is not an option either. They’ve done nothing wrong,” Daniel said, as calmly as he could manage. Daisy doubted anybody but her and Peggy noticed the seething anger just below the surface.
“Why don’t we just use Faustus on the lot of them?” Blake said casually. At that, the room went completely still. Daisy felt Howard and Peggy’s heart rates spike. Carter’s posture went eerily still as she reigned in her responses, and Stark bit at the inside of his cheek. Daisy stopped pacing, and narrowed her eyes, staring at Carter until she finally made eye contact.
“Why don’t we what ?” She asked, dangerously softly. Still, Peggy said nothing.
“The Faustus method. It served us well during the fight against HYDRA, right? We’d never have found the last bases without it,” Keller said, apparently having absolutely no idea how to read a room. Daisy took a deep breath, trying not to bring down the bunker in her rage.
“Why don’t we all just…” Stark began but was cut off by Daisy pushing past him to jab a finger into Peggy’s sternum.
“What the fuck.” She was beyond words. That was how they found the last HYDRA bases? Did everyone know but her and Daniel? Of course they did. Peggy kept this from her, and her husband, because they'd been brainwashed before. The bastard used them, let them do her dirty work, let them think she was better than HYDRA while she used the same fucking tools. Nick Fury would’ve been proud.
“Seriously, Peg?” Daniel asked. His anger was diluted by resignation. Daisy doubted he was surprised- hell, she wasn’t even surprised. Just disappointed, both in SHIELD and in herself. She should’ve known better. Through it all, Peggy kept a straight face, revealing nothing.
“Bucky Barnes is your best friend and you brainwashed people? Didn’t you watch Dooley die? And read Daniel’s mission reports from Russia? Aren't you close to a former Widow yourself?” At the mention of Dottie, Carter finally snapped, slapping Daisy’s finger aside and standing up from her seat.
“I didn’t do anything! It was Director Phillips’ program, I shut it down!” Daisy scoffed at her defensiveness.
“That intel. The information you got from classified sources on Reinhardt, Malick, and Zola. That was from brainwashed agents, wasn’t it?” Daniel asked slowly. Howard’s jaw had set, while the other agents just watched silently. Jack was gripping the arm of his chair so tightly Daisy feared he might break it.
“I-” Blake began, but Daisy cut him off.
“How many people!” She yelled.
“That’s not your concern, Agent .” Howard said stoically. She somehow stopped herself from punching him, instead pushing past him with a huff towards the other side of the desk, standing behind Daniel and Jack, while the other agents in the room tried to make themselves seem small.
“Of course it’s my concern! And you people wonder why I have trust issues! You all want to bag and tag people and brainwash them! Innocent people! You’d never even heard of Inhumans before today, and now you want to strip their minds away! How many people knew about this?”
“How could you?” Jack asked, his voice low and filled with anger. With a start, Daisy remembered that he’d watched Dooley die too. He’d been closer to the Chief than any of the other SSR agents. He’d been to the Red Room, and nearly been shot by Daniel, back when Fennhoff first tried to brainwash him. Thompson might not have had his mind taken from him, but he’d seen the damage it caused.
“How could I? I had two choices: throw away a resource Phillips provided me, or use the horrible things he’d done to take down HYDRA. I chose the latter, and I don’t regret it. What precisely would you have done differently?” Peggy asked.
“Never allowed it to happen in the first place!” Daisy shouted. The Director sighed, rubbing at her temples, and turned to her.
“I lodged the strongest possible objections. They were ignored. I followed the chain of command, and once I had the authority, I did make a change. I seem to recall you prioritizing the ends over the means yourself. You were perfectly happy to accept the Faustus Method when it delivered you useful intel, as long as you didn’t ask where it came from. During the war, those four sources saved countless lives. They delivered the intelligence that you happily used to find, storm, and capture the last remaining HYDRA bases. Would you have been so insistent on the high road if it meant Reinhardt, Zola, and Malick stayed at large? You were willing to turn a blind eye to it back then, but now that it’s convenient and the war’s over, you’ve found your conscience. Believe me, I wish there could have been another way.” Peggy pleaded. Daisy took another deep breath, meeting Peggy’s eyes again, and pointed to the door.
“Everyone out. Not you, Daniel.”
“Louise-” Stark started, but she cut him off.
“Shut the fuck up, Howard. Get the hell out.” Silently, the other agents obeyed her command, although Keller looked to Peggy for confirmation first. Jack shepherded the others out of the office, nodded to Daisy, squeezed Daniel’s shoulder, and left himself.
“Peggy-” her husband began, but Carter began speaking in a rush before he finished his sentence.
“I know, Daniel. I know. I’m sorry. Phillips told some others, including Howard and Flynn. Flynn must have told his allies. You were never supposed to know, either of you.” Daisy actually cackled at that pathetic excuse, as if it was supposed to make it better.
“I should’ve known better. I thought I could change SHIELD, but the rot goes deeper than HYDRA, and making friends at the top doesn’t change that. I’m honestly not sure which of us is more pathetic,” Daisy bit out. Peggy leveled her with that glare of hers again, but it had stopped scaring her decades ago.
“Are you handing in your resignation, Agent Johnson?”
“I didn’t say that! I’m fucking pissed at you, but the Inhumans need to be protected.”
“Inhumans deserve better than to be hunted and catalogued,” Daniel said calmly, redirecting them to the topic at hand. Daisy was furious about the brainwashing, and she would be getting her pound of flesh for it, but right now she had to stop another SHIELD-Inhuman war from breaking out. Saving her people from the Faustus method was more important than getting revenge over its use.
“I know,” Peggy said, her marble exterior finally crumbling as her shoulders slumped.
“Can this be covered up?” Daisy asked.
“We were the only base hit, and you got things under control rather fast. If Blake keeps his mouth shut, then yes, probably.” Daniel’s raised eyebrow spoke volumes, and Peggy waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll threaten him if I have to. I think this fiasco just proved how easy it is for SHIELD to keep secrets internally. The documents are already being destroyed by your team, I’m sure.” Daisy only smirked in response. They absolutely were.
“I’ll work on the Inhuman side of things. Try to keep things steady,” she offered. On that front, her new connections would be useful, even if working with Jiaying would be nerve-wracking. Peggy’s gaze softened slightly, and she seemed to look at Daisy in an entirely new light.
“You’re one of them, aren’t you? An Inhuman. None of this has fazed either of you in the least. I’m sure your name is all over those documents.”
“Yeah, I am. That’s where my powers come from. Only took you twenty years to learn the secret. Now you see why I wanted it under wraps.”
“I’m sure Phillips would’ve been thrilled, but I will not have you dissected, Daisy,” the DIrector promised. Daisy rolled her eyes.
“Thanks for that act of mercy. No, you’ll just brainwash me instead.” Peggy’s jaw hardened again at that.
“No, I absolutely will not. Let me prove it to you.” She strode calmly to the door, opening it and ushering in the assorted Agents from the waiting room. Daisy took Jack’s former seat, clasping her husband’s hand in her own. Daniel squeezed hers back. They both put on a calm façade, not glaring too hard at Stark, Blake, Keller, or Carter, by some miracle. When they’d all found a place to sit or stand, Peggy spoke.
“Any and all information provided to SHIELD today is to be destroyed, ignored, and classified. Anyone who speaks of any of it again will be executed for treason. The Faustus Method was removed from use for a reason, and will never be implemented again. Am I understood?”
“Director, this is a dangerous decision-” Keller said, but was shut down instantly.
“It is mine to make.”
“Yes, but a unilateral decision-” William started.
“It’s not unilateral. She has my support. And my wife’s, and Agent Thompson’s, and Howard Stark’s. Any further complaints, Blake?” If Blake looked surprised by Daniel’s statement, he said nothing. Stark and Thompson both nodded their agreement, even though Daniel had offered it without consulting them.
“No sir.” Blake sounded pained, but he did agree, at least.
“Good. Then don’t commit any treasonous mistakes, and you can keep your job. If one word of this leaks to the press, or the rest of the organization, all of you will be fired and imprisoned. Is that clear?” Peggy used her ‘I’m the Director’ voice, and everyone sat up a little straighter.
“Yes ma’am!” was shouted by all of them at once.
“If Inhumans prove to be a threat, we will act accordingly. So far, no such threat has been present. This organization exists to defend , not to subdue, control, or detain. Do not forget it. They have done, as far as we know, absolutely nothing to harm civilians, either as individuals or as a group. No surveillance, subduing, interrogation, or brainwashing will occur without due cause. Now go, all of you. We faced a cyberattack from an actually hostile force today. I want it found and destroyed.”
As the agents filed out of the room, Daisy knew this was a temporary victory. Even Peggy Carter couldn’t hold SHIELD in check by the sheer force of her considerable will forever. But, for now, it was better than nothing. Just because she had priorities beyond seeking justice for the brainwashed, however, did not mean Daisy had forgotten all that Peggy and Phillips had done. If Daniel’s white-knuckled grip on her hand was any indication, he hadn’t either. Someday soon, she would make sure there was a reckoning. But first, her people needed her. She had Chronicoms to kill.
Notes:
The brainwashing arc returns!
"Rob Keller" is neither an OC nor a relative of Yo-Yo's S6 boyfriend. He's Nick Fury's boss from Captain Marvel, the SHIELD director in the 90s. He has no first name in canon other than the initial R, so I'm making him a Robert. Captain Marvel is non-canon to the AOS-verse as far as I'm concerned, but I'm terrible at naming things so I stole him.
I'm fucking terrible at writing technobabble (unless it's star wars) and idk shit about 80s computers (I know it's the 70s but with accelerated technology... whatever), so forgive me for being super super vague in that part.
Chapter 35
Notes:
Thank you to GlaringRed, my beta reader, for making this chapter run much smoother.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
May 24, 1973
Somehow, these SHIELD agents continued to beat the odds. Out of every possible future, no matter what Sybil did, they surprised her. The invasion at Afterlife had been a complete disaster, even if the mission to assassinate Cal Johnson had succeeded. And, seemingly, slipped entirely under SHIELD’s radar. Sybil was too well-constructed to make the same mistake twice. Direct force would not work, it seemed, regardless of the method or location it was applied in. Cunning, guerilla warfare would succeed. She had 26 hunters left. Twenty of them would be scattered across the country and the world, with all the equipment they would need to tear SHIELD down, brick by brick.
But Chronicoms were, at their core, adaptable beings. They were not confined by the instincts or flesh of organics, nor the rigid programming of synthetics. No, her kind was the perfect fusion of both, with none of the weaknesses and all of the strengths of both organic and synthetic life. Chronyca-2 would be destroyed in 2019 CE, and it was Sybil’s responsibility to ensure that the greatest order of beings in existence carried on afterwards. Earth was the perfect home for Chronyca-3. Minor complications did not change that fact. Its gravity, location, atmospheric composition, history of life that could be studied, and the materials it contained made it the best option in this galaxy. It had not been selected idly. Chronicoms did nothing on mere whims.
Her Hunters had succeeded in ensuring that Daisy Johnson would never be born, but SHIELD remained the greatest- and only real- threat to the Chronicoms’ rule on Earth. Sybil had gotten into their rudimentary servers- still far more advanced than would have existed in an unaltered 1973- and successfully alerted Chronyca-2 to the danger, as she had planned. Warships, using technology developed by Chronicom exiles over the centuries since their world’s destruction, were already being built, and would be ready in a handful of years. If Sybil’s remaining Hunters could keep SHIELD occupied and weakened, her new fleet would easily be able to wipe out the rest of the organization and finish the conquest of Earth. Then, at last, the Chronicoms would be safe.
So Sybil sent her orders out to the remaining Hunters on the timeship. They prepared themselves, and gathered up the technology they would need. Erasers, for stealing identities. A cerebral fusion machine, for stealing information. She still had no physical body, and so Sybil would remain with the timeship. But for the next three years, the twenty-six surviving Chronicoms would cause havoc from the shadows. When she returned in 1976, there would be a final push to weaken SHIELD as much as possible before the fleet arrived.
If Sybil were truly human, she might have some wounded pride over needing the fleet to salvage the mission. She had believed it would be a simple task; not an easy one, but a simple one. She was the only Predictor the Chronicoms had ever had, and her judgments were gospel. The Time Stream, however, was greater than she. It changed as the timeline did, and the information it was now receiving was subpar. Sybil had made the decisions she had in complete accordance with the likely outcomes, and even if she had been capable of feeling regret over such a thing, she would not. The situation had changed. The Chronicoms would change with it. Pride was a weak, human, condition: the refusal to accept the way of things, all due to a belief that one individual was greater than the laws of nature. She was a Chronicom, she was above such things. No matter what, the humans would lose this war. Their perspective was simply too small. Even without the Time Stream, Malachi and Atarah had come close to wiping out SHIELD. Sybil could succeed with a slightly-underinformed Time Stream.
Analyzing the available jumps, Sybil shortened her time remaining in 1973 to three hours, rather than two more days. There was no point in staying that long, not anymore. The plan had been to check in with Malick and Luke, and ensure Project Insight was running correctly prior to its 1976 launch. Instead, the journey to 1976 would be occurring empty-handed. The three-year period, however, would be the perfect amount of time to cause chaos within SHIELD, without giving SHIELD enough time to completely eliminate all 26 Hunters, should things go badly. Jumping would also further divide the SHIELD team from 2019. It was highly likely that Daisy Johnson, Daniel Sousa, and Melinda May would all remain in 1973. They were growing weaker with age, and their position would be on shaky ground now that the truth about Inhumans had been (partially) revealed to SHIELD’s leadership.
Once again, Sybil had underestimated just how effective Peggy Carter’s SHIELD, and Alphonso Mackenzie’s team, was at containing information. Nonetheless, even a minor victory was better than none at all, when there was no cost to it. This would be a war made of minor victories, a death by a thousand cuts. But as long as SHIELD ended up dead, Sybil would be more than satisfied with such an outcome.
-
When the team was alerted that the countdown had drastically shortened, there was little emotion. Most of the farewells were perfunctory at best. Jemma had rigged the countdown clock so that it was connected to her watch, but even that wasn’t enough to sate her paranoia about getting stuck in the past. While Daisy and Sousa got roped into their meeting, Enoch and Simmons had returned to the Zephyr, and made no effort to re-enter Camp Lehigh once they had.
It was in the early hours of the morning, after Daisy’s meeting ended, that Coulson learned the team would need to leave. She and her husband had both been absolutely furious ever since it had ended, but neither seemed willing to talk about why. If May’s sudden anger a few minutes after Daisy’s reappearance was any indication, however, they’d told her. In all honesty, Coulson didn’t much care what it was. He wasn’t the director anymore, and it was need-to-know. Mack and Deke bid their farewells to Daisy, as Simmons and Enoch were already gone, and she and Elena weren’t on speaking terms. When the two men had bid their farewells and headed off towards the Zephyr, only Coulson and May remained, along with Daisy and Sousa.
Daisy stepped forward, eyes already shining with unshed tears, but Coulson spoke before she could.
“I’m staying. If Enoch’s leaving, you’ll need someone else with Chronicom hardware. And apparently, I’m kind of a computer genius now.”
“Coulson-” May started, but he cut her off.
“I don’t age, and you could use the help. No harm done.” Daisy opened and closed her mouth a few times, but a grin slowly spread across her face.
“You’ll have to stay out of sight most of the time, unless you want Stark to take you apart.”
“I’ll be a ghost. Get it, because-”
“You’re dead. I get it,” Sousa drawled.
“Twice.” May helpfully pointed out. Daisy grinned even wider and threw herself into his arms, but quickly sobered and stepped back.
“I’m sorry I brought you back. That was your decision to make, and you couldn’t have been clearer about not wanting to.”
“I’m glad you did. Still not really sure if I’m me, but I’m glad I got to experience all this,” he assured her.
“Fighting alien robots in the past?” Daisy asked.
“Yes! I mean, how cool is that? We got to meet FDR, Daisy!” She chuckled, humoring him, but Coulson mellowed his tone. “I got to see you happy. Happier than I’ve ever seen you. I’m so, so proud of all you’ve built here. Never thought I’d actually see a world without HYDRA. It’s definitely better than the Framework. At least, from what the info Simmons uploaded says.”
“Yeah, that place was… really fucked up.” May muttered.
“But look at you!” Coulson grabbed her by the shoulders, unable to hold back a grin. “The girl I kidnapped out of that smelly van would be shocked to see you now.”
“She would. It still doesn’t feel real, some days.”
“Which part? The SHIELD-hero husband, the time travel, or the alien robots?” Daniel blushed, but Coulson and Daisy both ignored him.
“All of the above,” Daisy said. Her expression softened again, and she searched for something in his features. “What are you gonna get up to, AC?”
“Hunting down Chronicoms, probably. They’ll be leaving some people behind. Apparently I can understand their language and technology, maybe I can think like them too. Find out where they’re hiding and take them out before they can hurt anyone.”
“Well… you might want to let the Director know about those plans, Coulson,” Sousa pointed out.
“Oh shit! Mack!”
He ran off to let the rest of the team know, but couldn’t quite keep the smile off his face. Maybe he wasn’t the real Phil Coulson, but he could still do some good.
-
As grateful as she was to not have to bid farewell to Coulson (again), she really, really wasn’t looking forward to this. As soon as the LMD left, May turned to her with the saddest look in her eyes Daisy had ever seen. She wasn’t sure if that was from her mother’s emotions or from her own, but she supposed it didn’t matter. Daniel took a step back, allowing her this moment to herself.
“I’m gonna miss you, mom.” God, she sounded teary already. When had that happened?
“I’ll miss you too, Daisy,” May said softly. The woman who’d become her mother in all but blood. Who’d been there for her for twenty years. Taught her to fight, and take care of herself, and survive. Who’d taught her their language, and culture, after so many years of being apart from it.
“It’ll only be a few seconds for you,” Daisy rationalized.
“And in all likelihood, it won’t be more than a year or two for you.” Maybe, or maybe it would be another twenty years. Her vision blurred, and she flung herself into May’s arms. The older woman squeezed her back, and Daisy let herself melt into the hug.
“I can’t do this without you,” she whispered.
“You can. You already have. I’m so, so proud of you.” God, this was embarrassing. She was a fully-grown woman, fifty in a few months, crying into her mother’s shoulder and begging not to be left behind again.
“Fine, but I don’t want to.” She knew she sounded like a petulant child, but it was hard to care.
“I love you, Daisy,” her mother said.
“I love you too.” May stepped back, but kept her hands on Daisy’s shoulders.
“Go kill some Chronicoms.”
“Yes ma’am, Agent May ma’am.”
Her mother just smirked, before closing her eyes in concentration. Daisy was only confused for a moment before a wave of other emotions crashed over her. Pride, love, sorrow, regret, heartbreak, and comfort wrapped around her like a blanket. May’s emotions, projected onto her. Daisy heard herself gasp, and let herself feel for a few, too-short moments. They were, unfortunately, on the clock. The Zephyr needed to be in the air when the countdown stopped, and there was no telling if the Chronicoms would shorten it again. Eventually, May lowered her hands. She smiled sadly at her daughter, and Daisy returned it through her tears.
Finally, they broke eye contact, and her mother stiffened her posture, turning to Daisy’s husband.
“Daniel,” she said, almost all traces of her previous sappiness gone.
“Melinda.” Daisy and her mother blinked in surprise simultaneously. Daniel had never called her anything but May. After a brief moment of shock, however, she just smirked and pulled him in for a hug.
“Take good care of our girl, okay?” Daniel gave Daisy a look over May’s shoulder that said ‘What the fuck?’ more clearly than any words. She giggled, and shrugged in response. Daniel broke the embrace far quicker than his wife had, but still smiled at his mother-in-law.
“I have a feeling she’ll be the one to take care of me, May.”
“I know, but still. Keep an eye out.” If she hadn’t known Melinda May for twenty-four years, Daisy never would have caught the tremor in her voice.
“Of course. I’ll always be there for her.”
“She is right here you know!” Daisy said indignantly.
“Do you hear something?” Daniel asked.
“Nope, not a thing.”
“Guys! We need to go soon!” Coulson came running over, gesturing towards the Zephyr behind him. They were about a hundred feet from the ship, but even from that distance, Daisy could see her team waiting on the ramp. She waved sheepishly, and they all returned it. May hurriedly gave Daniel another hug, then moved to speak quietly to Coulson. Daisy leaned into her husband’s side, and he immediately wrapped his free hand around her shoulders. They didn’t speak, but then again, there was nothing to be said.
Coulson and May finished their conversation relatively quickly. Daisy wasn’t sure if she was happy or disappointed that they hadn’t kissed, even if they did share a quick hug. All too soon, they were out of excuses and out of time. There was only a half hour on the clock. May walked off towards the ship, not looking back once until she’d reached the ramp. Coulson moved to stand by Daisy’s side, but he too said nothing. Someone who’d died as many times as him understood the sanctity of a farewell.
May clambered up the Zephyr’s boarding ramp, and finally turned back to wave. All three of them- her daughter, son-in-law, and best friend- waved back until the ramp was fully closed. They stood there even as the ship cloaked, took off, and waited for the jump to finally happen. This time, when the Zephyr disappeared in a flash of blue electricity, Daisy wasn’t sorry to see it go.
Notes:
Just ten chapters to go (plus the epilogue)! I've finally wrapped up all the loose ends in my outlines, and about 1.5 chapters of what's left (plus the epilogue) are already written. i'm so excited to finish this story!
Chapter 36
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
July 8, 1973
True to her word, Daisy had returned to Afterlife with some regularity over the past months. Jiaying had sent her current teleporter, Jagat, to Daisy’s home, as promised. He’d set up an odd sort of portal: one object of Daisy’s choice could be linked to an object in Afterlife, allowing travel between the two places through Quantum Entanglement. She’d chosen an old key that didn’t seem to open anything, and left it in a shoebox in her closet when she wasn’t training her sister. With a touch, the same blue energy that surrounded Gordon would appear around her and deposit her safely in Afterlife, clutching a stick marked ‘LOUISE S: NEW JERSEY, USA’. Touching the stick again sent her right back into her closet; she’d already made countless terrible jokes about that to Daniel.
As much as Kora adored her, and the other residents of Afterlife were slowly beginning to warm up to her presence, Jiaying and Li still seemed wary of Daisy. Breaking the news that SHIELD was now aware of Inhumans, however broadly, had not gone over well. By some miracle, her promises had been accepted once again, with the common threat of the Chronicoms binding them together. Daisy had made sure to bring along some shattered pieces of the robots SHIELD had successfully hunted down, as proof of their joint efforts.
Her visit today was brief- she had just enough time to run Kora through some exercises before she had to run to another meeting, on the other side of the planet. Daisy watched with no small amount of awe as the teenager meticulously wove her way through an obstacle course Daisy had erected, blasting apart targets with focused streams of energy, while avoiding everything else. She’d be a good agent . The thought came unbidden, and Daisy had to shake her head to clear it away. Kora deserved a better, more peaceful life than SHIELD could offer. Just because it was the only career Daisy had ever known didn’t mean it had to be her sister’s too. No. She’s not my sister. I can’t be a sister to her, it’s not fair to think of her as mine.
“Holy shit, did you see that! I didn’t break anything!”
“Nothing you weren’t supposed to, anyway,” Daisy said with a smile.
“Progress!” Daisy shoved down her shock at the bright grin on Kora’s face. It was scarily similar to her own- much rarer- gleeful expression. She gave the girl a hug to hide her face, but released her after a moment.
“I’m proud of you, Kora. You’re progressing a lot faster than I did. Say hi to your mom for me, will you? I’ve got to run.” Her sister’s face fell, but Kora nodded in understanding.
“SHIELD stuff?”
“SHIELD stuff. I think I figured out how to bury our secret.”
“Then get going! Go save the world!” Daisy chuckled and said her farewells, and within an hour she was knocking on Bucky Barnes’ front door.
“Louise! Come in!” Daisy stepped inside the threshold of the apartment, accepting a quick hug from Lizaveta Barnes. The former assassin was still one of STRIKE’s best agents, though she and Daisy were closer to colleagues than friends. “We weren’t expecting you, is everything alright?”
“Everything’s great,” Daisy assured her. “I’ve got a job offer for Bucky, actually. Is he around?” Lizaveta nodded, and something between curiosity and wariness spread over her face. She led Daisy to the kitchen, where the world’s most dangerous and controversial man was sitting at the table, with a dog curled at his feet and a stack of papers in front of him. No doubt, it was either a draft of the next installment of his best-selling memoirs, or it was related to his security oversight position at Stark Industries. He looked up as Daisy and his wife entered, and waved them both over to the table.
“Good to see you, Louise. How are you?” Daisy grimaced, and took the seat he offered. The Barnes’ dog looked up at her curiously, and Daisy scratched it behind the ears. She really needed to learn this dog’s name after she got through her spiel, he was adorable . She’d always had a weakness for beagles. “That bad?” Bucky asked, completely without humor. His wife took the seat next to him, and quickly explained something in Russian. His own expression became grim and dour.
“SHIELD’s going to shit. There’ve been too many awkward questions lately and not enough people deflecting them. There’s too few people I trust,” Daisy began.
“She’s right. Everything’s been… tense. That attack on the computers a few months ago put everyone on edge. It feels like everyone at the top is scheming and the rest of us are out of the loop. Even more than usual,” Lizaveta said. She glanced at Daisy, but the Inhuman didn’t offer any answers on her people’s existence. Bucky knew her true identity, but his wife didn’t, and Daisy intended to keep it that way. Thankfully, both former assassins completely understood the importance of need-to-know. Daisy was here because of their shared hatred of brainwashing, not because she could trust them with absolutely everything.
“We’ve destroyed files, cajoled people into silence, classified everything to hell and back, and installed Carter’s loyalists as Blake and Keller’s underlings,” Daisy explained.
“Sneaky,” Bucky laughed.
“We’re spies. She won’t even tell me what the secret they’re covering up is,” the former Black Widow said.
“Sorry, it’s classified. Level 10 only, plus those who found out before it was locked down.” Bucky’s eyes narrowed slightly, and from the raise of his eyebrow, Daisy could tell he was silently asking her if this had anything to do with the very illuminating conversation they’d had so many years before, in his cell. She shook her head slightly, but Lizaveta picked up on the exchange.
“There’s something the two of you aren’t telling me.” Daisy sighed and rubbed at her sinuses, but inclined her head in acknowledgment.
“There is, but it’s something else. I told Bucky a secret a long time ago, once his brainwashing was removed. It was something he needed to hear, but I can’t risk more people finding out.”
“Who else knows?” the Super Soldier asked.
“A few people who I had to tell, one who figured out something was up.”
“Does this have to do with where your mom disappeared to, and the powers you definitely don’t have?” Lizaveta asked slyly. The official story was that Agent Mei Wen was on a long-term, classified assignment. Few people who knew her believed it, despite the fact it was true.
“I can neither confirm nor deny that, Agent Barnes.” Daisy’s tone hardened just enough to show that she was not taking chances with this information, but she allowed her eyes to remain mirthful. She wasn’t mad, but she was drawing a firm line in the sand. Thankfully, Lizaveta seemed to get the message, and nodded slightly.
“Yes ma’am.” Her tone was lighter, but her eyes remained flinty. Daisy took a breath to steady herself, before returning to the original topic.
“Daniel, Jack, Rick and I can’t do this on our own. We need your help, Bucky. Even one more sane, respected voice might make all the difference in keeping things on track.” Bucky took a deep breath, pressing his fingers into the outside corners of his eyes. He lowered his hands, exchanging a look with his wife. They both nodded, and he looked at Daisy with a grimace.
“What do you need me to do? I won’t go back into the field,” he said carefully.
“And I’d never ask you to. I just need your eyes, ears, and reputation. You’re already helping Stark out, come do the same for SHIELD. Join Communications.”
“You want me to work for Blake? He hates me!”
“Exactly. He hates you and all you stand for. But not all his subordinates do. I need that fight to happen, Bucky.”
“And what’s the big secret that needs so much covering up?” Lizaveta demanded. “The new one, not the one you told Bucky years ago.”
“I still can’t tell you that. But I can tell you that Blake and Keller want to use the Faustus Method on innocent people. I need you with me to help stop them.” Too late, she realized she should have led with that. The furious, overlapping reactions of both former assassins continued for nearly a minute before Daisy raised her hand for silence. After a few more curses in Russian, Lizaveta calmed down enough to let her speak.
“I didn’t realize that was still an option,” she growled.
“Neither did I, until a few weeks ago. The assholes let slip that SHIELD’s had the tech since the war. Phillips was using it on captured HYDRA agents, and even though Peggy shut it down once she became director, she still used those agents to feed us intel.”
“That’s how we found the last Heads. Brainwashed agents,” Bucky muttered. Daisy nodded solemnly.
“I tore her a new one already, though you’re more than welcome to do it again. What’s more important is that we stop it from happening to anyone else. I need allies, Bucky.”
“He’s in,” Liz said. Bucky smirked at being spoken for, but seemed to agree.
“Yeah. I am. I’ll rejoin SHIELD.”
September 7, 1973
Daisy had spent an inordinate amount of the last few months just bouncing around SHIELD bases to serve as their Chronicom detector while Stark got machines set up that could detect them. Surprisingly, she’d actually found and killed a few that way. But for once, she wasn’t the one leading this fight. Coulson was, and he’d requested to meet her in Hong Kong.
Daisy quickly discovered that she didn’t like Hong Kong. The first and only time she’d been here before, it was an absolute shitshow of a day. She’d had to deal with Miles, Chan Ho Yin, her team finding out she was a double agent, Raina, and Centipede. Having just one enemy to fight was almost refreshing for once, but the city wasn’t exactly bringing up good memories. Almost as bad was the fact that she only spoke Mandarin, not Cantonese. Sure, plenty of people in the city spoke Mandarin or English, but she hated feeling like a tourist surrounded by her own people, when she’d put so much effort over the years into learning about the culture she’d been separated from.
Eventually, she found Coulson at the restaurant he’d suggested. It was right across the street from SHIELD’s Hong Kong office, which was allegedly a hot spot for Chronicom infiltration. The fact that it was the closest SHIELD facility to Afterlife didn’t escape Daisy’s notice, or her worries. As soon as Coulson’s LMD saw her, his whole face lit up. Thankfully, it was only with a smile, not with creepy under-skin lights or anything.
“Daisy! How’ve you been!” God, it felt good to hear her real name. Now that May was gone, nobody but Daniel called her Daisy on a regular basis. She couldn’t hold back a grin as she wrapped Coulson in a tight hug. They sat and quickly ordered food between their conversation.
“Not bad, AC. You’ve been… hunting down Chronicoms?”
“Oh yeah. They’re all idiots, it’s easy.”
“Really? They’re alien robot geniuses, I thought they’d be hard to find.”
“You’d think so, but they wouldn’t know inconspicuousness if it bit them. They can steal faces, and I’m sure they’ve got at least one machine that can transfer memories, but I think it’s hard to get to, for whatever reason. Some of the ones I’ve encountered don’t actually have the memories of the people they’re impersonating, only the faces. Others seem to have kept their original skins. Their leader, Sybil, seems to be pretty smart, but she’s not here. Once they’re on their own, they’re easy to find and kill.”
“But how can you find them so easily? Carter’s had me meditating for hours in random bases, reaching out to sense the weird metal. It’s awful.”
“I can sort of… sense them. I’m not sure how to explain it. I think it’s a built-in feature for their Anthropologists, and my system defaulted to it after some time on Earth. When I look at one, I still see the human skin, but my brain just… tells me they’re a Chronicom.”
“Holy shit, you’re the breakthrough Stark’s been looking for. Can you replicate that?”
“Probably, yeah.” Coulson didn’t even try to hide his shit-eating grin. “Does that meet I get to meet Howard Stark?”
“Hell yeah it does! We don’t even need Fitz anymore!” Daisy winced at just how giddy she sounded, but Coulson was only studying her carefully, without disapproval.
“You really don’t miss him?” her mentor asked. She picked at her newly- arrived food.
“Not at all. Not after what he did to me, and all the effort I put into finding him.”
“I can understand that, I guess.”
Awkward silence hung over them for nearly fifteen minutes, until the food was done. Only then did Coulson hand her a file, which Daisy immediately started leafing through.
“There’s an apartment nearby that I think has three infiltrators in it. I’ve got a car parked down the street with a bunch of their guns. Wanna help?”
This time, Daisy didn’t even try to hide her shit-eating grin. Blowing shit up with Coulson, so they could save the world? That was nostalgic in the best possible way.
Notes:
The end draws near! Next week: Daisy takes an Asgardian detour from her regularly scheduled programming.
Chapter 37
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
April 15, 1974
Daisy should’ve known better than to trust SHIELD not to use a weapon. The shitshow surrounding Faustus had proven that, if nothing else. And so, in the name of world peace, she found herself standing in a remote, barren field on a beautiful spring day, yelling insults up at the sky. This entire plan was based on a rather impulsive decision Daisy had made a week before, when she demanded a meeting with Howard Stark and Director Carter, and laid out her argument for why she should be given an Infinity Stone.
“In 2012, an alien known as Loki opened a portal in New York City. Yes, Loki like from Norse mythology. The Norse gods are real, they’re aliens. Loki used the Tesseract, which was being experimented on in a SHIELD facility, to open a portal from the other end of the universe. He came through, destroyed a SHIELD base, and went on a deadly rampage before finally opening up the portal in New York. An alien army came flooding through the skies above Midtown Manhattan, and thousands died before it was addressed. As long as the Tesseract is on Earth, it’s a danger to those who know how to access it from the other side,” she’d argued.
“And how, precisely, are we supposed to get it off of Earth?”
“I’m going to give it to Asgard, and warn them of what Loki will do. He was a rogue element, and his own brother was among the heroes that stopped the invasion. Give me the Tesseract, and I can make this problem go away.” Maybe it was guilt over what they’d done, but somehow, Peggy and Stark both agreed. Doctor Pym was fed some bullshit about secure storage at an offsite facility, and the cube was removed from Camp Lehigh, and given to Daisy’s custody in a secure case. Before she handed it over, however, she had another artifact to collect.
Among the many benefits of having LMD-Coulson around? He had a much better memory for random shit than her. Decades as a proper SHIELD agent had made him an expert in the art of paperwork; not to mention, he’d experienced all their old missions nineteen years more recently than Daisy had. When she reached out to him, asking after the Asgardian Berserker staff, he’d only seen it as an opportunity for a globe-trotting trip. After a few days, they’d managed to collect all three pieces- carefully sealed away- without attracting Elliot Randolph’s attention (or getting arrested by Francoist authorities in Sevilla). With carefully gloved hands, Daisy reassembled the staff, and locked it away in another box. She did not want to end up touching that thing.
After weeks of preparations and promises, Daisy got in her car, alone, and drove to Bumfuckville, Upstate New York. When she was completely satisfied that no other people were around, she took both boxes out of her trunk, walked for a few minutes, and set them by her feet. All that was left to do was cup her hands around her mouth, look up, and shout.
“HEIMDALL! I know you can hear me! I want to give Asgard the Tesseract back!” The sky remained, unfortunately, silent. “Ugh, for fuck’s sake. Listen up you arrogant fuck! I’m holding an Infinity Stone! What more do I have to do to get your attention!” There was no indication anyone had noticed her, beyond a few geese flying away. “Odin is a little bitch! Thor only has one testicle! Sif is- pretty cool, actually. I know about Loki’s true parentage! I once met an Asgardian woman in a bar on Knowhere and had an absolutely wonderful night! But you don’t need to know about that.” Still, no response. “Fuck! I swear to whatever gods you crazy space Vikings believe in, I’ll give the Tesseract to the jotuns if you don’t send someone down here!”
Finally, thunder rumbled, and the clouds began to swirl. Daisy suddenly realized that insulting beings who saw themselves as gods rarely went well, even if she knew for a fact she could take an Asgardian in a fight. A beam of golden-white light speared down through the eddying clouds, striking the ground in front of her. Daisy averted her eyes, blinking the white spots from her vision. When the Bifrost cleared, all it left behind was a geometric pattern, burned into the grass, and a striking woman with long dark hair, silver armor with red accents, and an already-drawn sword and shield.
“Lady Sif,” Daisy greeted, inclining her head in what passed for a wave when she had one of the most dangerous objects in the universe at her feet.
“You summoned Heimdall, Midgardian. How did you know how to do this? How do you know all this?”
“Not important. Here’s what is: the Tesseract. You want it or not? I’ve got one of your Berserker Staffs too.” Daisy gestured to the two cases, and Sif’s eyes widened. Slowly, Daisy bent down and unlatched the lids of both of the boxes, leaving the staff and Tesseract on full display.
“Where did you find such a thing?” Sif asked, voice filled with awe. She hadn’t taken her eyes off the glowing cube since it came into sight. Daisy just shrugged, carefully closing the box back up.
“Long story. One you don’t need to know.” At that, Sif’s attention refocused onto Daisy, and her eyes narrowed.
“Have you used the Staff’s power, Midgardian?”
“I have enough demons of my own. I don’t need a staff to be pissed off. Or to have super strength,” Daisy said wryly. There wasn’t much point in hiding shit from the aliens.
“You are not human, are you?” Sif asked.
“No. I’m not.”
“Then what species are you? How did you come to be on this planet?”
“I’m not going to answer your questions, Lady Sif,” Daisy said. “You’re just going to have to trust me. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“A gift? Then this is free?” Daisy chuckled and shook her head. “Then what do you want?”
“If I give you this, you send your people to hunt down the Mad Titan.”
“Who?”
“His name is Thanos. He’s just getting started now, but he’s already committed several genocides. Promise to kill him and it’s yours,” Daisy explained. She hadn’t planned to do anything about Thanos, but as long as she was cutting deals with super-powerful alien empires, she might as well save a few billion lives.
“And what’s stopping me from calling more of my people to take it from you by force?” Sif wondered.
“Do you really want to fight another non-human, with a Berserker Staff and an Infinity Stone?” The other woman moved into a combat-ready stance, and Daisy rolled her eyes.
“Asgard does not negotiate with those who steal our property, and seek to sell it back to us.”
“I didn’t steal anything!”
Sif wasn’t kind enough to believe her, and leapt forward, stabbing at Daisy’s chest. She rolled out of the way, dodging and running from subsequent strikes, but unable to strike back. She didn’t bring a gun, since this was supposed to be diplomatic. There was one in her car’s glove compartment, but even if she got ahold of it, she didn’t want to kill Sif. ICERs were useless against Asgardians. She could end this with her powers, but then Sif would just try to kill her again, if the last time this had happened was any indication. A slightly-stronger and more durable human-looking thing could be any number of species. If she started exhibiting powers, it would be obvious what she was.
Daisy felt like an idiot. She hadn’t brought Coulson, lest Sif return in forty years and recognize him. She was stronger and faster than most humans, but Sif was far superior to her. She dodged a vicious swipe of a sword, only to be kicked in the stomach by the Asgardian. Daisy surreptitiously dampened the blow with her powers, but was still sent soaring, crashing painfully into the dirt. She groaned and opened her eyes, laughing to herself when she saw just where Sif had sent her. The cases containing the Staff and Tesseract were right by her head.
“Surrender. I will take you back to Asgard, where you will answer for your actions.” Sif was rapidly stalking towards her, the point of her sword aimed directly at Daisy’s face. She had about five seconds before she could either surrender or die. Before she could think better of it, Daisy reached out and grabbed the staff.
Gravitonium surrounding her, eating into her skin, as Talbot tried to consume her powers. “Saving the girl I love and the world at the same time?” Ruby Hale, blood the color of her namesake pouring from her throat. “Quake. Destroyer of Worlds.” Ward is HYDRA. Reinhardt’s smirk. The Brodys’ scotch decanter. “ Wherever she goes, death follows” . Jemma, turning away from her, escorted by Chronicoms. A golden cross, floating, with Earth in the background. Hive. Jiaying, sucking away her life. Fitz, cutting into her neck as her powers rushed back into her senses, and the world shook with her rage. “Let me guess, the best day ever? You have a lot of those.” “Just one. July 2nd, 1988.” Trip, crumbling to dust. “Discovery requires experimentation.”
Daisy blinked, and Sif was on the ground before her. The woman’s double-sided sword was clutched in Daisy’s left hand, and her shield was dented and discarded. The package containing the Tesseract was still on the ground. Rage was coursing through her veins, more powerful than any emotion she’d ever felt. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to vomit or kill something.
Daisy pointed the sword at the other woman’s throat, breathing heavily, leaving the metal just barely against her skin. In her right hand, the staff pulsed with red light, fueling all her worst impulses. It would be so easy to push the blade just a bit farther forward. Sif had tried to kill her once. She hated Inhumans, and believed Daisy needed to die. But- no. In the end, Sif had let her live. She was owed the same courtesy. Daisy threw the staff aside, still breathing far harder than she should, though she took some small satisfaction from the sword still in her hands. Sif looked up at her in shock that only increased when she threw the sword down as well. Daisy extended a hand to the Asgardian woman, who took it, seemingly automatically.
She pulled Sif to her feet, then cautiously took a few steps back, before extending her hand again.
“Thanos. Take him out. You’d be doing us all a favor, seriously. Oh, and keep an eye on Loki.” Sif studied her for a moment, before clasping Daisy’s forearm and shaking it, in what she recognized as the Asgardian version of a handshake.
“I will pass along the message. You are a formidable warrior, yet one with honor. You believe in your cause.”
“I do, yes.”
“Then good luck to you, Midgardian.”
“And to you, Lady Sif.”
By the time the Bifrost took Sif, the Staff, and the Tesseract away, Daisy was already driving home. Her heartrate still hadn’t lowered, and she wanted to punch something, but that wasn’t abnormal for her. The staff had been… terrible. She understood now, why Ward had reacted the way he did. But May had been able to use the staff calmly, without giving in to its power. She’d had healthier coping mechanisms, which she’d taught to Daisy. It was a god-awful experience, and Daisy never wanted to go through it again, but it was still comforting to know that May was saving her, even if she wasn’t around.
Notes:
The end is near! I'll now be taking bets on who the 'major character death' tag is there for. Muahahaha.
Chapter 38
Notes:
I've had half this chapter written since, like, September lol. This was among the earliest scenes I planned and wrote. Can't believe I finally got to put it to use.
Chapter Text
March 16, 1975
Walking the halls of Afterlife late in the evening, Daisy was startled by the sound of someone calling her name. Her real name, which nobody here was supposed to know. What the hell was going on? She focused on the vibrations of the air, enhancing her hearing, but all she could pick up was a quiet song coming from the residential areas. Curiosity got the better of her, and she followed the sound, swearing she could hear her name a couple more times. Did someone need help? Was she going crazy?
The music led her to a room she recognized. It was the same place she’d lived during her brief time at Afterlife, where she’d gotten to know Lincoln and learned to use her powers. Someone was singing softly inside, and the door was slightly open. Clearly, she’d made a mistake, and didn’t want to eavesdrop. She’d just turned to leave when she heard her name yet again- seriously, what the fuck was happening here? Before she could think better of it, she positioned herself in the hallway so that she could see inside the room, but remained hidden in the shadows for anyone looking at her from inside. Tapping into the vibrations of the atmosphere again, she finally made out the lyrics of the song just as she saw who was inside.
Jiaying was sitting on the edge of the bed, gently resting a hand on her daughter’s forehead. Daisy’s sister. Kora. The sister no-one had ever told her about, who must have been dead by 2014, who was one of the most powerful Inhumans Daisy had ever met. Her first instinct was to blast Jiaying into a wall, to protect her sister. She remembered all too well the last time their mother had touched her face. But Jiaying wasn’t draining the life from her, she was singing to her. Kora seemed to be almost asleep, allowing her mother to sing to her despite being eighteen. Daisy’s brief flash of jealousy was replaced by shock when she finally parsed out the words to the song their mother was singing.
“Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do. I’m half crazy, all for the love of you. It won’t be a stylish marriage, I can’t afford a carriage. But you’ll look sweet, upon the seat of a bicycle built for two . ”
It took her a second, but she recognized the song. Cal had hummed it to Daisy when they’d spoken in San Juan, and told her that her mom had sung it to her as a baby. It had played from a music box in a nightmare she’d had not long before that. She’d assumed that Jiaying had chosen to sing “Daisy Bell” because she was named Daisy. Maybe it was the other way around. Maybe she’d been named after the song Jiaying had sung to Daisy’s dead sister. Fucking hell, that was a lot to process.
She missed May, her real mom, the mother who’d actually been there for her. Who taught her how to protect herself rather than trying to kill her. May would probably have some amazing advice for how to deal with this situation, but all Daisy could do was start walking before anyone saw her lurking around. Lost in thought, trying to decide how she should feel about this, her legs decided her destination for her.
Daisy found herself overlooking the valley, the moon reflected against the snow-capped she’d once caused to shake, standing in the same spot where Jiaying had shown her her powers could be beautiful. Where Lincoln had made her float with static. She sat in the dirt below the red gate, and just watched the stars above the mountains.
“I was wondering where you’d gone.” Daisy flinched, forcing herself to turn around without wincing. It was still difficult to look Jiaying in the eye without feeling an irrational wave of fear, and the only time the woman had ever tried to touch her, Daisy had all but ran in the other direction.
“It’s peaceful up here. Been a long day.” In truth, Daisy hadn’t had a particularly eventful twenty-four hours. She’d mostly been helping Kora with sensory awareness and meditation, then having a minor freak-out. But despite her extremely obvious attempt to tell her to go away, Jiaying refused to take the hint. Instead, she sat beside Daisy- but thankfully for her sanity, remained a few feet away.
“I wanted to thank you, for all you’ve done for my daughter. And for Afterlife,” the other woman said. Daisy blinked in surprise. She’d assumed Jiaying had come here to start some sort of conversation, but not that one.
“I was just doing my job,” she demurred.
“With Kora?” Jiaying asked cautiously.
“Saving you guys from the Chronicoms, that was my job.. Kora is… different.” Kora was her sister, not that Daisy could ever admit it. Then again, even if they didn’t share a drop of blood, Daisy knew herself well enough to know she’d be protective of the girl. They had too much in common.
“You care about her,” Jiaying said. A statement, not a question.
“It’s hard not to. She reminds me of myself, in too many ways.”
“Why do you think that is?”
For a split second, Daisy almost told her the truth. It would’ve been simple. The compassion in her voice, the curiosity, the care Jiaying had for the daughter she knew about. It was so, so tempting to just tell her who Daisy was. To say ‘because she’s my sister’ . Was it so wrong to want a piece of that affection for herself? But instead, she bit her tongue, and said the smart thing.
“She’s powerful, and people assume that means she’s dangerous. She could’ve easily been ostracized, locked away. Hunted down. I saw her in pain, and I knew I could prevent that.” Daisy had been so focused on keeping her secret that she hadn’t been careful enough in moderating her tone. Jiaying was looking at her closely with those too-familiar eyes, the ones that seemed far older than the face they sat in.
“Prevent what happened to you,” she said softly.
“Yeah, so what?” Daisy snapped, and immediately regretted it. “That was rude, I’m sorry. Yes. I’ve been hunted. I’m being hunted right now, actually, by the Chronicoms. And even though they don’t know what I am, keeping the more bloodthirsty SHIELD agents in line isn't easy.” Jiaying hummed in acknowledgement, then completely changed the subject.
“Do you know how old I am?”
“No, I’m polite enough not to ask a lady her age,” Daisy quipped. The older woman chuckled, but shook her head.
“I appreciate that, but I don’t mind. I was born in the 1630s, in a little village in Hunan. It was the Ming-Qing transitional period. I’m not sure how much you know about our people’s history- China, I mean, not Inhumans, but it was a bloody time. When all the dust settled, there were twenty-five million people dead. The Qing forces arrived in Hunan when I was just fourteen, and the war raged on for decades, in fits and starts.”
“I’m so sorry,” Daisy whispered. She wasn’t sure why Jiaying was telling her this, but it was horrifying.
“This is relevant, I promise. Before I founded this place, the Inhuman community were wanderers. We never slowed down for more than a few years, because humans would always learn what was going on. The war made it worse. My mother and father were both potentials, but they’d chosen to settle down in a small, safe, out of the way place, when neither were chosen to go through the Mist. Much of the village was settled by potentials over the years, in fact, and the existence of Inhumans was and is a bit of an open secret. Some of the villagers actually helped me find the last Diviner during World War Two, the one HYDRA got ahold of.
“Anyways. Wanderers. The war got bad, and my parents sent me away, to join our community. They were passing through China when it broke out, and hadn’t really been able to leave, but they’d been keeping away from the fighting. My parents thought it would keep me safe. They were wrong. I avoided the massacres that plagued my homeland, and I was chosen for the Mists when I was seventeen, but my parents weren’t so lucky. Neither were the other Inhumans. Some of the generals and warlords had heard rumors of the powered people, and they wanted to use us.”
“They wanted to use you as weapons, to end the war on their terms,” Daisy growled. She was familiar enough with that concept.
“Exactly. You see my point now?”
“You know what it is to be hunted,” Daisy said solemnly. Jiaying just nodded.
“I do. It was a difficult few decades. But in the end, our people made it through Sinai, and into Zion, if you’ll forgive the metaphor.” She gestured around broadly at the valley before them, and sighed in contentment. “It took about… thirty years. The war was almost over by then, but it took us ages to shake all the pursuers. We managed to avoid all the later wars, thank God. The Taiping Rebellion was just as deadly, but this community managed to avoid it, here in the mountains. Our little exodus was bloody at times though, I had to do things I’ve always regretted. My powers don’t just let me live a long life. I have to… take it. From others.” I know, Daisy wanted to scream. Instead, she just said,
“Oh?” with all the nonchalance she could muster.
“I discovered it by accident. Nearly killed my first husband that way. But it was our pursuers who ended up killing him, and so I used it as a weapon against them, to keep our people safe. But after I found this place, I swore to never do it again. It would be too easy, to become a vampire, to make myself what they fear I am.” Jiaying sounded remorseful, but there was something else in her voice. Daisy’s heart was pounding in her chest, the glint in Jiaying’s eyes was one she saw in her own too often. And yet…
“I can understand that. The temptation to just…”
“Burn it all down,” her mother whispered. Daisy balled her hands into fists, hating herself for agreeing.
“Exactly. It might be easier. To not have to hold back.”
“It only seems that way. When the dust settles, it’s awful. I let myself age, for a while. Didn’t get remarried. Poured everything I had into building Afterlife from the ground up. But I got old. Wrinkled and gray and ugly. I was ready to die, already nearing ninety, and far healthier than any normal human would be. I looked… seventy, maybe. Felt younger than that. But one of the Inhumans who’d made the journey with me…” Daisy had heard this from Cal’s perspective before, but never from Jiaying’s. “She was a bit younger than me. She begged and pleaded and cajoled, and made me take what little remained of her life. Even an elderly person was enough to return me to the age you see now, to heal my wounds, to keep me going for another few decades.”
“How many?” Daisy asked quietly.
“Seventeen.” Jiaying’s voice was a hoarse whisper, filled with regret and unshed tears. “I begged them not to every time. But it turns out if I get seriously wounded, my body reacts on its own. Like a drowning man, clinging to the only thing they can find. I can’t control my powers, Louise. I can use them at will, but I can’t not use them at will. And after a couple centuries, I knew that they’d just stab me or something if I refused to drain them, so I acquiesced. When someone came to me, pleading to drain them, I did it. For a hundred and fifty years, I did it. I cried and begged them not to every time I grew too old, sick, or wounded, but eventually I gave in.”
“They thought you were that crucial to keep around?” There was no small amount of bitterness in Daisy’s voice, but Jiaying just chuckled. “No offense.”
“None taken. But yes, they did. I disagreed, I still do. I may have built this place, but they don’t need me to keep it going. Inhumans have always had whatever powers we need to survive. Jagat’s our teleporter now, but ever since we found this valley, there’s always been at least one Inhuman capable of instantaneous transportation. When one dies, the next one through the mist comes out with similar powers, without fail. There have been a hundred people who easily could have replaced me, who could’ve been better leaders than I ever was. But I never fought hard enough to let them, and they never wanted the job. When I had Kora, I made up my mind. I’d never had a child before, I didn’t want to outlive them. I won’t outlive her. I won’t bury my baby girl.” Daisy winced openly at that, but thankfully, Jiaying was too lost in thought to notice.
“Why are you telling me all this?”
“That should be obvious, Louise.” Glancing over at the older woman, Daisy shuddered. The sad half-smile on her face almost made it look at though a scar curved from the corner of her mouth. Bile rose in her throat, and the feeling of ghostly hands brushed against her cheeks. Daisy stood quickly, wiping the dirt from her pants.
“I should get back. It’s almost 9am back home,” she said hurriedly. She missed Daniel, and Jesus fucking Christ she had a lot she needed to tell him.
“The people here are starting to trust you. Spend the night, there’s plenty of apartments available. Most of our residents only stay for a few days at a time,” the older woman offered.
“I don’t need the sales pitch, Jiaying,” she snapped.
“Really? You’ve been jumping in and out of Afterlife for two years. You come in, you train my daughter, you go back to SHIELD.”
“I’m keeping the world safe!”
“You are. And you’re keeping this place safe too.”
“I try,” Daisy muttered. Keeping the war hawks on a leash was a tough battle, but she’d keep fighting it.
“You succeed,” her mother assured her.
“What do you want?” Daisy ground out from between clenched teeth. She was tired of the long build-up, the tragic backstory, the flattery.
“I want you to replace me.” Daisy couldn’t hold back an incredulous laugh, but the look on Jiaying’s face was deadly serious.
“You’re not kidding.”
“I’m not. Most everyone here has come to trust you, and absolutely everyone respects you. My daughter adores you. You can control your abilities, far better than I ever could. You’re training her to do the same, where my own lessons failed. You saved this place once already, and who knows how many lives you saved by helping Kora.”
“You look younger than me! You’ll probably outlive me!”
“I doubt that very much. Besides, I’d like to retire someday. Just because our leaders are called Elders doesn’t mean I’d like to still be running this place with a foot in the grave,” she laughed.
“Shouldn’t Kora be your successor?”
“This isn’t a monarchy. And besides, you’re several times-”
“Yes, I’m older than her. I’m not as old as you, but I’m old. I get it.” Jiaying chuckled at that, and Daisy was struck by how much it sounded like her own laugh.
“Look, if you spend a bit more time around here- just a bit- you’ll be considered an Elder in a few years. I know you care for Kora, and I appreciate that more than you’ll ever know. You’re a leader, Louise. A good one. People here already look up to you, for good reason.”
A memory flashed through her mind, a relic from a lifetime ago.
“Forget history, I don’t care about the past-”
“Well you should. Because the past and the future are intertwined, just like us. Our paths have been intertwined since before we even met. And I’m not talking about DNA. You and I have spent our entire lives searching for our destiny. And I finally have the answer. I had a vision today, and it revealed the truth.” Their back and forth had gone on for minutes longer, metaphors and bullshit and riddles piled on top of each other, until finally the thorn-covered woman got to the point. “It is you who are destined to lead,” Raina had purred, golden eyes flashing. “Even in the darkness you’ll see the truth.”
Daisy blinked, and Jiaying was staring at her expectantly.
“I won’t force you into anything. God knows you’ve done enough for me already. But, if you’ve ever really wanted to make a difference for our people, this is a good way to do it. You could lead us someday.” Daisy swallowed down the lump in her throat. The moon was high overhead now, and the stars were bright, but between them the sky was black as ink, black as odium, black as Raina’s thorns. And Daisy saw the truth. This had always been her destiny.
“I won’t make any promises, about the whole Elder thing. But I’ll stick around more, when I can. SHIELD keeps me busy, and all that. And Daniel’s not an Inhuman, so he couldn’t be here…”
“That’s fine, even if you lead us, you wouldn’t have to live here full time. Thank you, Louise. For hearing me out.” Without warning, Jiaying was squeezing her shoulder. Before Daisy could shatter her mother’s hand, the centuries-old woman had already let go, and was disappearing into the night.
Chapter 39
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
November 8, 1975
The funeral was a somber affair, as funerals tend to be. Daniel’s mother had lived a good, long life, but that didn’t make burying her any easier. Daniel wept without shame as his brother and two of his nephews carefully lowered Elizabeth Sousa’s casket into the earth. His wife rubbed circles on his lower back in a silent show of sympathy, though he knew Daisy was mourning as well. Daniel’s siblings, nieces and nephews, and brother-in-law were all crowded around the open grave, but Jack Thompson was the only non-family member present. Daniel’s mother had always wanted a small, quiet funeral.
Daniel had managed to keep his family safe from external threats over the years, but they were still mortal. Cancer could not be fought off with a gun, even if several of the attendees carried one. Daniel’s siblings were unarmed, but he carried a gun under his jacket, as did Daisy, Jack, and Alice. His niece had recently been promoted from Operations to STRIKE, and Daisy reported that she was an exceptional agent. Unfortunately, she had to put those skills to use, when she should have been allowed to mourn in peace. No sooner had the casket been lowered to the bottom of its grave than the bullets started to fly.
The agents’ training kicked in without delay, instinct moving faster than conscious thought could have. Daniel, Daisy, Jack, and Alice pulled the civilian Sousas down, pushing them behind tombstones and chairs. The priest ran before anyone could get to him, but he crumpled to the ground no more than five paces from Daniel. Half the man’s face was missing.
He was terrified for his family, and furious at the fucking Chronicoms for crashing his mother’s funeral, but there would be time for emotion later. He didn’t want to bury any more relatives today. Daniel locked eyes with his wife, who was crouching behind a relatively large tombstone for some long-dead stranger, a pistol already in her hand. She held up four fingers with her free hand, and quickly pointed out the enemy positions. Naturally, they were surrounded. Why weren’t any of the other bullets hitting? None of his family had screamed in pain, no one seemed to be hurt, only terrified. Daniel wasn’t complaining, but it was strange. Pulling his own gun out from the chest holster Daisy never stopped teasing him about, he readied the weapon for whatever his wife was planning. His leg was killing him, he didn’t have to crouch or kneel very often, but the pain was better than dying.
Off to Daniel’s other side, Alice shoved down her sister before she could stick her head out. Daniel had both his brothers with him, Daisy had Ben’s family, and Jack had Camila and her family. They were safe enough where they were. Daisy whistled to catch Alice and Jack’s attention, pointing out the same positions she’d shown Daniel, before dividing up their targets with SHIELD’s hand sign code. The gunfire paused momentarily, and his wife signalled for them to move.
Leaning over a tombstone, Daniel fired in the appointed direction. He caught sight of the Chronicom he was targeting standing out in the open, firing a rifle systematically at the mourners clustered around the open grave. These idiotic robots never seemed to bother with getting into cover, or with sane tactics, they just relied on their superior technology and shot blindly. Daniel had to empty his clip before the Chronicom finally keeled over, and if the cacophony of gunshots coming from Jack, Alice, and Daisy were any indication, they were running into similar problems.
He kept his head down, but looked around as unobtrusively as he could, trying to find whatever targets were left. He spotted the last Chronicom standing just as Jack made the killing shot, and a fist-sized object flew from the robot’s hand and into the midst of the cowering civilians. There was just enough time for Alice to shout “Grenade!” before instinct once again took precedence over logical thought. Daniel threw himself over his brothers, praying the tombstone would shield what he couldn’t, and the three other agents present could protect those he was too far away from.
The grenade went off, and when Daniel’s ears stopped ringing, he pushed himself off of his brothers. Thankfully, he was fairly sure he was unhurt. He checked over Will and Ben to make sure they were alright, and felt his breath catch in his throat.
“Heh. We match,” Will muttered. His brother was pale and breathing far too heavily, eyes darting all around without fixing on anything in particular. From the neck up, he was unmarred by blood or injury. His right arm wasn’t so lucky. Just above where his elbow used to be, Will’s arm ended in a bloody mess of tissue and bone, peppered with bits of granite that were once a tombstone. A weak chuckle escaped his lips, and he gestured at the stump with his free hand. “Now I know how you feel, irmão. This shit sucks. Am I gonna die?”
A quick glance around showed that everyone but the priest was on their feet and rushing towards them, seemingly unhurt. Ben was cradling their brother’s head in his lap, and had gone deathly pale, but seemed physically fine. Alice, somehow staying calm despite the fact that her dad was going into shock in front of her, pushed past the assorted Sousas and knelt beside the day’s only casualty. Alice took a deep breath, and immediately started inspecting the wound.
“You’re not gonna die, dad. Uncle Daniel, can you give me-” Before Alice had finished her sentence, Daniel was pressing his rapidly-removed belt into her hands. She wrapped it around Will’s arm just below the shoulder, pulling it as tight as it could go and then some. Daniel could already hear sirens growing louder- someone must have heard the gunshots and explosions. Will’s eyes went unfocused, even though the flow of blood from his hand was slowing. Alice shook him by the shoulders, and his brother moaned in pain.
“Dad! Stay awake! You’re going into shock.”
Will grumbled something unintelligible, but his gaze landed on Beth, who was standing near Daniel, fighting back tears.
“Why are you crying?”
“Because you lost your hand, Dad.”
“I did? Oh shit.”
It would’ve been funny if it wasn’t so terribly, tragically familiar. Daniel’s heart stayed in his throat until the ambulance finally arrived, with SHIELD vehicles not far behind them. He stayed with Alice and Beth until the medics took away his brother. His family were escorted away by SHIELD officials, while other agents cleaned up the puddles of molten metal left behind by the dead Chronicoms. Soon, it was just the four SHIELD agents left: himself, Jack, Alice, and Daisy. Daniel jumped at the first opportunity to pull his wife aside.
“Those bullets all missing was convenient,” he whispered.
“I shielded us the best I could,” came the hushed reply.
“I figured. You saved all our lives, Dais.”
“Not the priest’s. I couldn’t get them precise enough in time. And Will… I’m so sorry.”
“That was my fault. The tombstone chipped the wrong way. Bad luck,” he muttered. He felt like shit over it, sure, but it was no one’s fault. Will would survive, if nothing else.
“Let’s try not to make amputation a family tradition.”
They rejoined the other two agents, who were engaged in a quiet but bitter argument while the cleanup crews scurried around them. Jack seemed exasperated, while Alice was torn between exhaustion and anxiousness. Considering her dad had just been taken away on a stretcher, and she’d just buried her grandmother, Daniel couldn’t blame her.
“So you’re not going to tell me what’s going on?” she fumed.
“It’s classified, Agent Sousa.” Jack said carefully. Daniel could see the tension in his frame as he approached.
“Classified! My father just had his hand blown off at his mother’s funeral, and the assailants turned into puddles of quicksilver.”
“Alice,” Daniel said softly, and she whirled on him with fire in her eyes. “It’s classified. I’m sorry.”
“They came here for you two, didn’t they?” she asked. “How did you know where they were, Aunt Lou?”
“One day,” Daisy began. “I’ll tell you that, I promise. But for now, just know they didn’t come for the two of us, they came for all four of us.”
“SHIELD,” Jack snarled. “They’re trying to take down SHIELD.”
“They are,” Daniel confirmed. “And they failed. We’ve been dealing with these people for a long time. Maybe someday it’ll be declassified, Alice, but for now it’s need-to-know. I’m sorry.” His niece’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, and he would’ve been proud of her good instincts if he wasn’t so irritated about her refusing to drop the subject.
“Are they HYDRA?” Daniel supposed that was a reasonable assumption.
“No, but they used to work together. They helped try to kill your uncle; the first time, back in ‘55,” Daisy explained. “We’ve been cleaning up the dregs of their… organization ever since. I swear, as your SO and your aunt, I’m not hiding anything from you that isn’t need-to-know.”
“I want the truth.”
“You’ll get it- after we check on your dad, and after these people are dealt with. When it’s all over with, we’ll tell you the truth,” Daniel promised. It took a moment’s contemplation, but his niece nodded sharply, and permitted Jack to pull her into a one-armed hug.
“Come on, kid. Your dad’s gonna kill you if you’re not there when he wakes up.” Alice scowled, but acquiesced, and allowed Jack to lead her away towards a waiting car. Daniel and his wife exchanged a we’ll talk about this later look, but their mutual agreement was clear. Eventually, their niece would have to learn the truth.
Hours later, outside of Will’s SHIELD-run hospital room, while his brother was in surgery, Coulson slid into the seat on the other side of Daisy from Daniel.
“Is he going to be alright?” Coulson asked quietly.
“He will be,” Daisy said, just as quietly. Ben was pacing in a corner, and Will’s twins were dozing in chairs nearby. It had been a very long day, and they didn’t want to disturb anyone.
“I’m sorry I missed them. I’ve been searching for this cell for months. If the info I’ve gathered is accurate, these were the last of them. The Chronicoms definitely have hidden stashes of weaponry and tech that I haven’t been able to find, but they’re all out of hunters.”
“So we’re safe?” Daniel asked.
“Yeah. It seems like we are,” Coulson said. One tiny piece of good news in a truly horrible day.
“How long will it last this time?” Daisy said.
“Until our team comes back, I guess.” Coulson didn’t sound nearly as sure of himself as he ought to, with news this good. Daniel knew for a fact that Coulson never once met his brother, so he couldn’t be that worried for Will. There was something else going on.
“What sort of weaponry do you think they’re hiding?” Daniel asked. Coulson’s brow furrowed, and he grimaced.
“I have absolutely no idea. Could be a butter knife, could be a nuke. But they have dead drops and storage units all over the place, and I haven’t been able to find them all.”
“Then that’s your new priority. We don’t want anything dangerous falling into the wrong hands, or lying around for Sybil to grab when she gets back,” Daniel ordered, not even realizing he’d slipped into his ‘Deputy Director voice’ until Coulson saluted him on reflex.
“Yes sir,” was all Coulson said, before giving Daisy a brief hug, shaking Daniel’s hand, and slipping out of the hospital as stealthily as he’d come in.
Notes:
Short chapter this time, but next week, the Zephyr and Sybil return again!
Chapter 40
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
November 3, 1976
Over the past two years, Bucky had, for the first time in his too-long life, built a routine he was happy with. He woke up in a non-Spartan bed, enjoyed the company of his wife and dog in the mornings, and left for work with Liz. They drove to Camp Lehigh, then went their separate ways- him to Communications and her to STRIKE. Bucky typically spent his workdays ensuring that SHIELD’s agents and bases were connected and well-informed, avoiding Peggy Carter like the plague, and making as many friends as possible.
He’d rejoined SHIELD, at Daisy/Louise’s request, because she’d warned him that the agency was rapidly threatening to tip out of control. To his dismay, Daisy and Liz had been absolutely correct. Bucky served as the Deputy Head of Communications, directly under William Blake. He was, to put it mildly, a fearmongering son of a bitch. Even Bucky, who was infamously paranoid, thought that Blake saw ghosts around every corner. The man hated the Enhanced with a passion, and was kind enough to extend that hate to Bucky.
Daisy had never seen fit to tell him precisely what her big secret was, but if the hints Blake dropped on a regular basis were any indication, it definitely had to do with Enhanced people. Blake had been successfully scared into silence, but he talked too often about ‘hypothetical’ scenarios involving groups of dangerous Enhanced terrorists, and the need for SHIELD to be prepared in case of such an eventuality. He had his share of followers among their subordinates, but so did Bucky.
Two years of plying his long-abandoned charms won him a number of friends. Spending his days riding a desk rather than bashing in skulls had rather significantly undercut Blake’s message of how dangerous Enhanced people were. Even his anti-Russian invectives seemed to have less sticking power on the days when Liz stopped by to say hello. They made a point to be less grossly affectionate than the Sousas infamously were, but even seeing an Enhanced man and a Soviet-born woman smile rather than scowl menacingly was enough to change the minds of some.
Bucky might never be able to forgive Peggy for what she’d done, but he wasn’t so petty as to abandon the righteous cause they shared. He was here to keep SHIELD in line, nothing more. Her constant attempts to apologize for brainwashing people didn’t interest him, even if he was a member of the organization she led. Thankfully, they were separated by enough layers of command that Bucky could usually avoid her, or at least avoid being in a room alone with her. Gabe and Jim bugged him to get over it every couple months, but he was too angry and stubborn to care. Would Steve have forgiven her? Maybe, but he was still frozen in ice. If he wanted to complain, Bucky’s old friend would have to defrost himself first.
And so, when his day started off normally, Bucky had no complaints. The oddities started around lunch. When a knock sounded on his office door just after 11:30, he yelled for whoever it was to come in. Sandra Donovan, one of his best subordinates, opened the door and quickly stepped inside.
“Do you have a minute, sir?”
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“There’s someone trying to contact the base, but they’re using an old frequency, and the strangest encryption I’ve ever seen,” Sandra explained. She had a thin stack of papers clutched against her chest. Bucky drummed his metal fingers against his desk, and pointed towards the files with his organic arm.
“Is that what they sent?”
“Yes sir. What they’re saying is perfectly clear, it’s just nonsensical. I think it's the Soviets, contacting agents in our ranks. Some sort of code system.” The woman handed over her files, and Bucky flipped through them. His brow furrowed as he read the transcript. Most of the sentences didn’t make any sense, but it was sensible enough. Just… odd. Filled with acronyms, and words he’d never heard of before, a few repeated consistently. What was a ‘zephyr’?
“It’s not code,” he realized, when he reached the last line. “Hold down the fort for me, will you? I’ve gotta talk to Sousa.”
Bucky was halfway out the door before the analyst had even opened her mouth. Within minutes, he was standing outside the Deputy Director’s door, and managed to restrain himself enough to knock without barging in first. Even he would probably get fired for that. He raised his fist to rap on the wood, but paused when he heard a heated argument going on inside. He wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but it would be rude to interrupt, and he did have super hearing. The door was thick enough that he never would’ve picked up anything less than a gun going off in normal circumstances, but Bucky hadn’t been normal for a long time. Besides, Howard Stark and Daniel Sousa yelling at each other was a rare occurrence, and usually a worrying one.
“You need to replace them, Stark. It’s too risky,” Sousa was saying.
“You’re the one who told me your ma’s funeral was the end of it!”
“Probably the end of it. That was never confirmed. And either way-”
“Have there been any more? Have the alarms gone off once?” Stark asked incredulously.
“No, but they could come back any day now!”
“And your people will warn us when they do, right?”
“Probably, and that’s not good enough,” Sousa insisted. Bucky had no idea what they were on about, but it seemed too important to interrupt.
“Do you have any idea how much power these things need, Sousa? On all of our bases and safe houses? I’ve had to invent entirely new types of capacitors just to make them work. Taking them off the doors of the one base our living Chronicom detector works at is not a risk.” What the hell is a Chronicom detector?
“I’d rather be prepared than caught flat-footed because you were pinching pennies, Howard.”
“Peggy’s orders. We don’t have the budget.”
“How the fuck do we not have the budget for existential threats, but Pym has enough money to turn himself into Tinker Bell!”
“The Ant-Man program will be crucial to countering the threat posed by Red Guardian and the Soviet-” Stark began, but the sound of a fist hitting wood cut him off.
“I honestly don’t give a shit about the Soviets, Howard. I don’t care. McCarthy’s not around anymore, we can be honest now. We fight off aliens every few months, the hell does the Cold War matter when Earth’s at risk?”
“I’m not going to tell anyone you said that, so you don’t lose your job. 80% of what we do here is still focused on keeping dangerous technology out of Communist hands, don’t forget that. It’s what keeps the lights on and the country safe,” Howard hissed.
“I know, and it’s important, but isn’t the entire planet worth another few bucks?” Bucky wasn’t sure anyone hated the Soviets as much as he did, but even so, he couldn’t help but agree with Sousa’s assessment.
“Take it up with Congress.”
“Sometimes I wonder if democracy was a mistake,” Sousa growled.
“You and me both, pal. Are we done here? There’s nothing I can do, even if I agreed with you.”
“Fine. I’ll figure something out.” Bucky heard footsteps growing slightly louder, and stood aside from the door before it could open. The footsteps stopped, however, and Stark called out to Sousa.
“I’ll give you three days before they come down at the Triskelion and Ragtag too.”
“Where else is vulnerable?”
“Nowhere is vulnerable, Daniel, it’s been two weeks and nothing’s happened. But to answer your question: here, the Lighthouse, LA, and London.”
“Fuck. Daisy’s gonna be pissed.”
“I don’t know who that is, Sousa,” Howard deadpanned. Bucky could practically hear his pointed glare, and Sousa’s raised eyebrow.
“Louise is gonna be pissed.”
“Not my problem.”
Howard opened the door, sparing Bucky a terse nod before taking off down the hall. Bucky stepped into Sousa’s office, clearing his throat to get the Deputy Director’s attention. Daniel looked up from his papers with a flash of anger in his eyes, but it faded when he saw who it was.
“What is it, Barnes?”
“My people picked up an odd transmission. I think it’s your wife’s old team.” Sousa took off his glasses, leaning forward with interest.
“And what makes you say that?” Bucky tossed the papers onto his desk.
“Because they asked for Daisy Johnson.” Sousa’s eyes went wide, and he practically scrambled for the papers, immediately starting to flip through them. When he’d read them to his satisfaction, he spoke.
“Thanks for the heads-up. We’ll take care of it. If you find Daisy, can you send her my way?”
“Yeah, she should be with Liz, right? I’ll go pay them a visit. What do you want me to say?”
“Whatever works.”
Finding Daisy was easy enough. She was sparring in the ring, in STRIKE’s section of the base, holding her own against Liz, Friedman, and Alice Sousa simultaneously. Yossi, the oldest among them and the one with the least experience in hand-to-hand, fell first. Alice’s legs were swept out from under her a moment later. Bucky stayed by the doorway, watching silently and with interest as his wife exchanged blows with the Inhuman. It took longer than the others, but within a few moments, Liz was flat on her back, Daisy’s elbow pressing into her throat. She tapped out with a smirk, and Bucky took the opportunity to clap as slowly and dramatically as possible.
“Impressive, lubimaya. Losing to an old woman in under a minute,” Bucky called out in Russian. Friedman snorted with laughter, but tried to cover it up with a cough. Liz rolled her eyes at him, but the Sousas just looked confused.
“I seem to remember you losing to her on national television, my love. And I still beat you in the ring nine times out of ten.” Daisy raised a hand for silence before Bucky could respond to his wife’s verbal barb.
“Do you need something, or did you just come here to flirt? The look on your face says there’s something going on,” Daisy asked. Bucky rolled his eyes and bit back a comment about how she was the queen of flirting with her spouse while at work. This was too important.
“The Deputy Director wants to see you, Louise. There’s some sort of message for you. From some old friends.” That got her attention. Daisy’s eyes hardened into something between shock and hope. She vaulted over the edge of the sparring ring and was out the door before anyone could get a word in edgewise.
Bucky’s day returned to normalcy after that. His lunch break started in a few minutes, and he’d done his part, so he kissed his wife’s cheek and went to the cafeteria. Half an hour later, he was back at his desk. It wasn’t until early afternoon, after his lunch break, that the weirdness returned.
On the way back from the bathroom, he saw a cluster of worried-looking strangers walking behind Daisy, all heading in the direction of Daniel’s office. One of them was familiar. For the first time in years, Bucky saw Mei Wen- Melinda May, if he remembered correctly. She hadn’t aged a day since her ‘classified mission’ began years ago. He’d be willing to bet she was still wearing the same clothes. To Bucky’s credit, he wasn’t the only agent staring as the living legend walked by. Everyone had assumed she was dead, and it was just being covered up. But no, she was walking arm in arm with her daughter, wearing an almost-invisible smile.
The famously-cold agent graced Bucky with a slight nod. He returned it, shoving down his shock, and ignoring the open-mouthed stares from the Wens’ companions. In addition to May and Daisy, there was a tall, broad-shouldered, bald-headed Black man, a mousy white woman who was too scrawny to be a combatant, and a dazed-looking man who had a faint resemblance to her. He both saw and heard the woman whisper ‘is that Bucky Barnes?’ to the taller of the two men. His subtle nod and the woman immediately straightening told Bucky that he was certainly the group’s leader.
Bucky was just about to pass the group when Daisy cocked her head to the side, as if listening to something too far away for her to hear. He didn’t know much about how her powers worked, but he knew it gave her some sort of sixth sense. He slowed his pace, lingering awkwardly near the group, in case they needed anything. Daisy’s mother muttered something that Bucky couldn’t hear, but the younger woman waved a hand in dismissal. Instead, she looked at Bucky.
“Get everyone out of here,” Daisy ordered.
“What do you mean, everyone? Out of where?”
“Anyone who can’t fight as well as we can. The base. They brought bombs.”
“Who brought bombs? You’re not making any sense,” he snapped.
Just then, yet another woman he didn’t recognize turned a corner, stepping into the hall. She had a slightly larger than normal purse slung over her shoulder, and was walking more stiffly than even her heels could account for. The woman froze when she saw the assembled agents, and Daisy’s head snapped to the side, immediately locking onto the woman. The stranger’s face snarled in an inhuman expression, and she reached into her purse, pulling out a pistol and firing in one smooth motion.
Instinct took over, and Bucky leapt forward, catching the bullet on his metal palm before it could bury itself in May’s head. The woman kept shooting, but Bucky either dodged or caught the rounds. She was fast, more so than any human he’d ever fought, but he could match her. Three steps forward and he was pushing off the ground, spinning in the air and lashing out with a foot. He kicked the pistol out of her hand, but the woman’s other arm moved quick enough to block his next strike. It felt like kicking a metal pole, and he had to bite back a curse.
She put him on the defensive, tossing aside her purse to punch and kick with enough force to crack the concrete where she missed her target. Bucky dodged or blocked every blow, but he couldn’t defend forever. He dimly registered Daisy yelling for him to get down, but if he spent even a second ignoring the threat this thing posed, he’d probably end up dead. The sad-looking man, meanwhile, dove for the purse, and pulled some glowing blue rectangular prism out of it. He cursed and ran off, while the scrawny woman shouted ‘Deke!’ in a British accent and trudged after him.
Bucky took several quick steps backwards, taking a moment to steady himself, as his assailant did the same in front of him. In his peripheral vision, he dimly registered Daisy, May, and the burly man lining up behind him, and the sound of other SHIELD agents running towards them. Now that he had a moment to breathe, he noticed all the things even his unnaturally fast thoughts couldn’t catalogue in time. His shirt and pants were tearing at the seams from his acrobatics. The woman was battered- not bruised, battered. She was covered in slightly-sparking dents in all the places where Bucky had managed to land a good hit, and her limbs were twitching unnaturally. She was a robot. Isn’t that just peachy. At least she’s on the fritz. And she isn’t human. He could defeat her without having to kill anyone.
The robot-lady dashed forward, but Bucky was ready for her this time. He ducked under her right hook, kicked her in the shin hard enough to shatter a human’s tibia, then jammed his metal hand into her throat with his palm up and fingers extended. It punctured the fake skin, tore through wires and metal, and went out the other side. By the time he’d yanked his arm out of the robot’s neck, she was already melting into metallic goo. Breathing hard, and wiping the liquid metal off on his pants, Bucky turned to face the SHIELD agents from the future, while agents from the present flooded into the hall.
“What the fuck was that, Sousa?” he demanded. Daisy winced at his tone, but looked to Deke with a raised eyebrow. He must have slunk back into the hall at some point.
“There’s five of them left. How bad is it?” she snapped.
“Bad. These things are… powerful. You were right. Definitely bombs. And I don’t think I can defuse them,” Deke said apologetically. The last time Bucky escaped from an exploding base, it had been the factory where HYDRA was keeping him captive. Steve had saved his ass. Steve wasn’t here now. Bucky hadn’t been in the field for years, but he’d seen his friend lead enough times to pick up a thing or two. He started rambling before his brain could catch up with his mouth.
“Alright, five more, right? There’s only one elevator into and out of this place, plus the hangar. Around 750 staff are on duty at any given time, and there’s only enough jets to fit 150 of those. We should send STRIKE and the other Ops agents to find and kill the…” Daisy glared pointedly at the agents who were most certainly not ‘in the know’, and Bucky got the message, “assailants. Load the bombs onto jets, set them on autopilot to fly straight up. How much time have we got?”
The future-team turned to Deke as one, silently looking for an answer. He rolled his eyes, but examined the bomb more closely.
“Yeah, I got nothing. I don’t see a detonator or a timer. It’s probably remotely activated. We’ll have to be quick.”
Everything after that was a blur. Bucky grabbed the bomb before he could think better of it, and ran to the hangar, shouting orders as he went. Camp Lehigh came alive behind him, and an alarm immediately began to sound. He sprinted into the hangar, slamming the emergency release inside the doorway as he did so. A relatively new addition to the base, modeled after Ragtag’s own hangar but significantly smaller, the high ceiling began to retract. Not nearly fast enough. The roof was fifty feet above the ground, and there were no ladders to access it. The designers hadn’t seen the point, when it could be accessed so easily from the outside. They also probably hadn’t predicted how easy it was to smuggle in deadly explosives. He very carefully placed a bomb on the closest quinjet, setting the autopilot over the shouted concerns of the maintenance tech. When the plane was away, Bucky grabbed the man by his shirt collar and dragged him towards the door.
“Listen to me very carefully. That was a bomb. This base has five more of them. Get as many people out of here as you can, help get the bombs out, or both. Understood?” The tech had enough sense to salute sharply enough he almost karate-chopped Bucky in the face. The former assassin released the man’s collar and shoved him off towards a plane. In a brief moment of respite, Bucky wondered what exactly had just come over him. He just as quickly decided it didn’t matter. He was sick of fighting, but he was more than happy to help save lives.
Gunfire sounded in the distance as people streamed into the hangar, quickly filling it far beyond capacity. Bucky saw people he knew from his department, but nobody from Operations or STRIKE. If Liz, Gabe, or Morita died today, he had no idea what he was going to do. Thankfully, for now, everything was going smoothly. Pilots used the quinjets to ferry noncombatant agents out of the base, managing to get twenty people out per jet per seven minutes. It wasn’t enough. The hangar was still far too full when future-SHIELD’s leader pushed his way through the crowd, and placed a duffel bag on one of the empty quinjets.
“That was two more,” he shouted to Bucky over the roar of the crowd. “STRIKE and Daisy took out all the Chronicoms, but we can’t find the bombs.”
“What the fuck is a Chronicom?” Bucky yelled back. The man seemed taken aback for a moment, before he chuckled lowly.
“I forgot nobody filled you in. The Chronicoms are the alien robots. I’m Mack, nice to meet you.”
“I’m Bucky. Is everyone from STRIKE okay?”
“I know. They’re fine, Daisy’s getting them out on the elevator. Everyone important is already gone.” Bucky held back a comment about how he wouldn’t mind if Blake had been left behind, because he wasn’t a terrible person. Anymore. Mostly. About half of SHIELD’s top officers worked in DC now anyways, but it was good to know the other half were safe. Peggy tended to split her time between the two main bases, but as far as Bucky knew, she was in Washington this week.
The other three future-agents, along with Daisy, made their way into the hangar shortly after, in the middle of another rush of evacuees. They were separated from Bucky and Mack by dozens of people, but he could see Daisy signalling to him. SHIELD hand signs. He relayed the information to Mack at his questioning look.
“Everyone who’s not out is in this room, waiting for the elevator, or in the hallway outside the hangar. They couldn’t find the other two bombs.”
When the weight of that information processed, Bucky cursed loud enough to turn heads, before remembering he was supposed to be the picture of calm. A general rallying the troops. As far as he knew, he was the highest-ranking agent left on the base. Bucky really hated being in charge.
As if a God he no longer believed in was intent on adding irony to his fears, the ground rumbled, and people screamed. The whine of Daisy’s powers, familiar from Dallas, rippled through the air. The walls began to cave in, and Bucky shoved Mack to the ground, covering him with his own body. People dove under the wings of the one quinjet still on the ground, and rubble rained down onto the plane. Dust and smoke billowed out from the doorway, and the screams got louder.
Eventually, blissfully, it all stopped. Bucky raised his head, and took in the damage around him. Daisy was trying hard to look like she wasn’t straining, but it looked like she’d done a lot of good. Many of the falling chunks of rubble had seemed to fall fortuitously where nobody was, or broken into small pieces on the way down. More agents than Bucky could count were clutching injured limbs, bleeding, or pinned under blocks of concrete. Above him, the roof was still open, although the once-rectangular entrance had buckled into more of a lopsided trapezoid. Even so, a quinjet was slowly descending, no doubt to take up survivors.
Getting everybody out took hours longer. Long-ass rope ladders were thrown down from the surface, apparently not having been readily on hand earlier. The wounded were lifted out on stretchers. Being nominally hale and healthy, Bucky was among the last to leave, alongside Daisy, Mack, Deke, and the other two agents whose names he never learned.
On the surface, things looked only slightly better. Camp Lehigh looked more like a refugee camp or a field hospital than an army base. It took excruciating minutes to push his way through the crowd and find STRIKE, but thankfully he found Morita, Jones, and Liz waiting for him. Bucky’s wife threw herself into his arms, as did his friends after she’d let go; albeit much more gently.
Bucky, along with most of the Ops agents, chose to stay to help care for the wounded and search for the missing. Hours passed, and the sun sunk beneath the tree line. The work continued, and the death toll climbed. Healthy survivors were sent home, and more emergency responders funneled in.
In the midst of banading someone’s arm, a flash of blue came from the forest. A few people gasped and murmured, but it was soon forgotten. Too many wounds still had to be patched up, and that took priority. Mere minutes after that, Daisy walked up to him, practically materializing out of the shadows. She tilted her head to the side, and he took the hint, following her to the edge of the base. A balding but kind-looking man was waiting there, wearing a suit and a sheepish smile.
“What’s up?”
“This is Phil Coulson. He came with me from the future, and he’s been helping hunt the Chronicoms. He’s technically one himself- he has the hardware, anyway, but his brain is that of a SHIELD agent. It’s a long story. Anyway, I brought you here so he could fill you in if you wanted to know anything. And because he knew Captain America. In the future. I’ll leave you two be for a bit, I should go help.” She was gone, and Bucky was left staring at the man. Not-man? Robot?
“It’s an honor to meet you, Sergeant Barnes. Or do you prefer Agent?” Coulson asked, offering his hand to shake. Or was this a robot copy of Coulson? Bucky was a bit fuzzy on the details. Either way, it would be rude not to shake his hand.
“I prefer Bucky, actually.”
“Bucky. Cool,” Coulson echoed. He sounded starstruck, and the former assassin had to refrain from rolling his eyes. He was no hero. He did, however, have questions for this man.
“You met Steve?”
“I did, though I only knew him for a few hours before I died,” Coulson said somberly, rubbing at his chest. “This was back in 2012. We left in 2019, but my memories are from before that.” That sounded like a very long story that Bucky really didn’t care about.
“How is he?” Bucky asked cautiously.
“That was a while ago- in the future, anyway. I can’t really speak to how he’s doing now, not on a personal level, there’s just the news stories from when my brain got scanned, which are quite different from 2019, and I should probably stop talking now.” Bucky breathed deeply to organize his thoughts, and spoke slowly and carefully. Coulson had seemed like a perfectly competent, put-together man until he started this interrogation. Maybe Coulson needed to be spoken to more like an agent than a civilian, even if he was acting like one.
“Daisy already told me all she knows from the papers. What was he like?”
“Tired. He’d only been out of the ice a few weeks; so you’d only been dead to him for a couple months. He was looking for his place in the world, getting used to being in the future. Seemed very out of place. But he still had this… presence. The weight of the world was on him, but he was shouldering it and pushing through. It was inspiring.”
“Yeah. That sounds like him.”
“He missed you,” Coulson offered.
“I miss him too,” Bucky whispered. The weight of those words slammed into him all at once, and he nearly staggered from it.
“You don’t look a day over 35. You’ll live to see 2012, I’m sure of it,” the other man assured him. It wasn’t very reassuring.
“I’m only sixty chronologically, you know. Been conscious for forty-six or so of those years. That’s not as much of a compliment as you think.”
“I was already half bald at your age. Don’t worry about it so much,” Coulson quipped. The corner of his mouth curled up in a way Bucky had seen on Daisy often, and it reminded him of what the point of this conversation was supposed to be.
“I’ve already got enough to worry about. Like all the goddamn secrets you people are keeping, for instance,” he snapped.
“There’s not much you don’t know,” Coulson said slowly.
“Yeah, well, when Daisy told me she got stuck in the past fighting robot aliens, telling me they were still around would’ve been appreciated,” he sneered.
“She told me you killed one?”
“I did. Not fast enough.” Bucky had killed one of six. Maybe if he’d gotten to the other five, this wouldn’t have happened. Was staying out of the field the wrong choice? Something must have shown on his face, because Coulson groaned and rolled his eyes.
“I swear to God, this entire agency has a self-pity problem.” The words were biting, but his tone was light.
“I get mine straight from the star-spangled source,” Bucky quipped. There was a moment’s silence, while they both tried to figure out where to go from here.
“You know, even if you don’t make it to 2012, I’ll still be around. I know there’s plenty that can’t be written down, but I can convey a message,” Coulson offered.
“Thanks. I might take you up on that. You’re gonna stick around that long?”
“I will. I’ll be around until Daisy dies of old age, at the earliest. I don’t age.”
“Really? That won’t be easy. Trust me, living a long time without aging isn’t all it’s cracked out to be. And parents shouldn’t outlive their children,” Bucky said.
“She’s not- Daisy’s been abandoned by too many people. I won’t do that to her again. Besides, I’ve already died on her once.” Well that certainly raised even more questions.
“That’s noble of you,” he said after a moment.
“I’d call it selfish,” Coulson countered. Bucky wasn’t really in the mood to argue morality and ethics with this guy who he’d just met, but maybe having someone else around who didn’t age, and who knew Steve, wasn’t awful.
“If you’re sticking around that long, I wouldn’t mind having a chat every once in a while.” A smile slowly spread over Coulson’s face.
“I think I’ll take you up on that. Bucky.”
He shook Coulson’s hand in farewell. Bucky turned at the sound of Liz calling for his help, and when he looked back, the other man was gone.
November 5, 1976
Peggy paced back and forth outside the briefing room, trying to figure out how, exactly, she’d get through this without losing her job. Most of SHIELD’s upper crust were inside, along with the Secretary of Defense, and the World Security Council. The explosion at Camp Lehigh was impossible to cover up or dismiss. She had no choice but to tell the truth, or at least a version of it, and hope for the best. If nothing else, at least the existence of Inhumans was still a secret. The war that Daisy so desperately feared had not yet come to pass.
The Director of SHIELD closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, trying to steady herself and think on the bright side. Dottie was waiting at home for her, Peggy would get to see her partner after this. After working a few missions for SHIELD over the years, the former assassin had been quietly pardoned, and now worked freelance. Her and Peggy’s relationship was complicated, but they did love each other, and spent as much time together as possible.They loved each other, in their own way. But dreams of this evening could only sustain her for so long.
Eventually, her brooding was interrupted when Daniel limped up to her side. They were both nearing sixty, but he looked far worse for wear than she did. Daniel’s hair was grayer, and he leaned more heavily on his cane with each passing year. Daisy had told her recently that her husband might have to switch to a crutch again, since he had a habit of getting into fights regardless of his injury. At the moment, though, he just looked tired. Daniel took off his glasses, rubbing at his eyes.
“You ready?” he asked, not unkindly.
“Not at all. But we might as well get it over with.” Pushing open the door, she strode inside with all the confidence she could muster, walking up to the podium. Daniel followed, taking his seat in the front row of the small auditorium in the Triskelion used for large-scale briefings. Even so, it was only about half full. Her ex took the seat next to his wife, and they both smiled encouragingly. Peggy met the eyes of all the important figures she needed to, trying not to be offended by Daisy and Bucky refusing to meet her gaze, before turning her attention to the crowd in general. Only about ten of them already knew what she’d come here to say. Briefing packets were being passed out, and she waited until everybody had one to speak.
“Good afternoon,” she began. “As all of you know, 72 agents were killed two days ago, in an explosion at Camp Lehigh. Over two hundred more were wounded. The base was partially destroyed, and rendered unfit for human habitation for the foreseeable future. All relevant operations are in the process of moving here to the Triskelion, or to the New York office. This briefing concerns the nature of that explosion, and its perpetrators.
“We have been tracking the threat posed by these assailants since 1931. The late, great Agent Ernest Koening first encountered them during that year, when they attempted to kill President Roosevelt. They call themselves the Chronicoms. They’re an alien race, a mix of organic and synthetic. We know they seek Earth for their own purposes, and see SHIELD as a threat to them, though we’re not sure why. They have the ability to impersonate humans, and to take our memories to pretend to be us. When they are killed, however, they melt into metal.
“The Chronicoms seem to have a near-infinite lifespan, provided they are not killed, and have a near-infinite patience. They did not show themselves again until 1955, when they tried to destroy Project Helius at Area 51. Some of those present may recall this incident. Then-West Coast Security Chief Sousa was in charge of the base at the time. The Chroncioms killed and impersonated Dr. Niles Lindmore, and in that capacity, contributed to Agent Sousa’s attempted assassination at HYDRA’s hands. They continued to aid HYDRA over the next few years, providing them weaponry and intelligence to undermine Project Hercules. Obviously, they failed. Agent Louise Sousa killed their liaison to HYDRA in the late 60s, and the Chronicoms ceased aiding them after that.
“In 1973, they returned once again. This time, their attack focused on our computer systems. In the aftermath, Mr. Stark developed a device which could detect them. After a series of engagements over the years, the SHIELD agents tasked with hunting the Chronicoms down succeeded in their endeavour. We were assured of their elimination last year, and the detectors at Camp Lehigh were removed due to their extreme cost. Unfortunately, the Chronicoms returned once again two days ago, and were able to infiltrate Camp Lehigh. The result is obvious.
“These enemies were kept classified out of fear that their technology might be sought out and used by those who discovered its existence. HYDRA was known to use their weapons during the war, and those beliefs were therefore quickly proven to be correct. This is no longer tenable, and so it is being rectified. Further details can be found in your packets. Are there any questions?”
Peggy had to suppress a sigh when nearly every hand in the room shot up. This was going to be a long day. She missed Dottie. And her kids.
“Yes, General Stoner?”
Notes:
For those of us not keeping a tally at home, all the Chronicoms Sybil brought with her are now dead.
The blue flash was the Zephyr leaving again. Once again, Coulson and Daisy are the only ones who stayed.
May, Simmons, Mack, and Deke accompanied Daisy into Camp Lehigh. Yo-Yo stayed onboard the Zephyr bc she’s in the healing chamber, Enoch stayed onboard to keep an eye on the chamber, and Coulson just wasn’t in the neighborhood at the time.
Chapter 41
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
December 13, 1978
Daisy waited on a street corner on the Upper East Side, hands buried in her pockets, collar upturned against the freezing wind. The sun was already down, and if she could avoid it, she didn’t want to stand out in the cold all night. But twenty years of schemes, plans, and politicking were revolving around this moment. If she played her cards right, the last major obstacle to peace could be removed.
“He’s coming around the corner now, meu amor,” came Daniel’s voice in her earpiece. “Good luck. Traffic lights are switching over to red… now.”
Daisy gave a subtle thumbs-up to the apartment window that she knew her husband was watching from, and silently thanked Coulson for hacking into the NYC traffic grid. The whole ‘manipulating SHIELD into being less fascist’ thing was a lot easier with backup. Maybe if she’d had a few more allies back in 2016, she could’ve made an actual difference. It was too late for that now, but she was lucky enough to have gotten another chance. She wouldn’t waste it.
A black sedan pulled up to the traffic light, and Daisy spotted her quarry behind the wheel. She could feel Pink Floyd playing through the speakers, and the driver tapping his fingers on the steering wheel along with the beat. He wouldn’t hear her coming. Calmly, Daisy stepped off the curb. She used her powers to pop the lock on the passenger side door, pulled it open, and hopped in the car. She immediately grabbed the thick manilla folder on the dashboard, and had the door shut by the time the driver had his gun aimed at her face.
“Agent Blake, fancy seeing you here. Do a lap around the block,” she drawled. The man lowered his gun when he recognized her, but she could feel how fast his heart rate was going, and see the sweat beading at his temples. Blake’s gaze flicked down to the files in her lap, then to the gun in his. Daisy didn’t break eye contact.
“Christ, Sousa. How the hell did you-”
“Does it matter? Eyes on the road,” Daisy snapped. In truth, it was a fascinating story. Bucky had spent years keeping a careful eye on William Blake’s under-the-desk activities, and the recruitment of Daisy’s nephew to Communications to increase the amount of scrutiny on him, had uncovered plenty of dirty little secrets. Among them was the stack of files in Daisy’s hands. Blake had stolen everything he could from the ruins of Camp Lehigh. It didn’t amount to much, but there were a handful of classified files that alluded to the existence of Inhumans, along with other powered or Enhanced individuals.
There wasn’t much in the folder, it was scraps at the most. Even so, Daisy had managed to convince Peggy to bury it all years ago, in vaults that the Chronicoms had split open. The files were, on their own, pretty harmless. Blake, however, decided the best thing to do with this highly classified and dangerous information was to hand it over to the New York Times. Daisy, who was a bit soured on the whole ‘the human world finds out about Inhumans’ thing, was not going to let that happen.
“No. I guess not. Are you going to kill me?” Blake asked nervously. He was driving now, but his gaze kept flicking back over towards Daisy.
“Not if you do what I- no, you idiot, it’s south only on Lexington, you’re gonna get us killed- not if you do what I tell you.”
“Or what?” he said slowly.
“Do what I say, and Carter never has to find out about this little… slip of judgement. Otherwise, I’ll have no choice but to tell her, and she will have no choice but to have you killed.” Daisy spread her hands magnanimously and flashed her most charming smile, but the other agent just shot her a sideways glare.
“So instead of threatening my life yourself, you’re just doing it by proxy?” It felt wonderfully ironic to hear that from Felix Blake’s father of all people.
“Pretty much,” she confirmed. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel, and Daisy started to flip through the folder of files. As she expected, it was nothing out of the ordinary.
“Always knew you were a thug,” he grumbled. Daisy snorted and put her feet up on the dash.
“Would you prefer I beat the shit out of you or something? Everyone can go home happy today.”
“Daisy. Please don’t beat the shit out of him,” Daniel chided gently over the radio. She tapped her ear once in acknowledgement, though a smile tugged at her lips. They both knew she wouldn’t actually hurt Blake, but if he believed she would, that worked in her favor.
“I doubt that very much. You’re replacing me with Barnes?” Blake asked. That had, in fact, been the plan. Bucky was the obvious choice, even if he was still only just beginning to tolerate Peggy’s presence again. Daisy still hadn’t forgiven her either, but she’d learned to tolerate her in professional settings.
“Obviously. Retire early. I’ll head home with you, make sure you give me all the copies you have of the documents. Some other agents will be by in a few days to make sure we got everything. I’ll know if you’re lying,” she informed him, picking at her cuticles.
“Why the fuck are you doing this? It’s our duty to keep those animals under control! They’re dangerous!” he yelled. Rage bubbled up in her throat, but Daisy had heard it all before. She was perfectly capable of having more emotional control than a middle-aged white man in the 1970s.
“Did it ever occur to you that there isn’t even any proof Inhumans exist? What if this is all a Chronicom psyop?” she posited. The agent next to her hesitated just a moment too long before he spoke.
“It’s not,” Blake insisted. Daisy grinned to herself.
“How do you know?”
“I just do, it explains too much,” he yelled.
“It explains nothing. It fuels all your paranoid fantasies, and that’s all. I’m doing this because it’ll stop a war,” she explained calmly.
“With the Nepalese?” Blake giggled hysterically. “We can beat them if we have to.”
“Don’t fall victim to one of the classic blunders!” Only nine more years until The Princess Bride came out. She couldn’t wait.
“Huh?”
“Never get involved in a land war in Asia. Seriously, it’s been twenty-five years and I still remember this shit.” He looked at her strangely, but didn’t question it. What kind of dumbass actually thought invading a country made entirely of the world’s tallest mountains, and surrounded by hostile or vaguely antagonistic world powers, was a good idea?
“We can bomb the shit out of their commune if we have to. I’ve checked. SHIELD has several bases and launch sites within range of Nepal. With some U-2 flyovers, SHIELD can easily locate the compound. We’ve got ICBMs with conventional warheads equipped, just in case of some alien incursion we can’t risk wiping out cities for. One plane, one missile, and the problem is solved.” Deep breaths. In and out. Don’t murder him. She repeated it like a mantra in her head until the bigot’s rant was over. Daniel was grumbling something about flaying Blake alive over her comms, but she ignored him. Killing the asshole would just make things more complicated. She was trying to remove factors from the equation, not add in the cover-up of a high-ranking SHIELD official. When she trusted herself to speak calmly, she said,
“That sounds like genocide to me, not to mention the start of a war,” she said with a long-practiced faux calm.
“They’re not human. It’s not genocide, it’s removing a danger to our entire species.” Daisy dug her fingers into Blake’s wrist, and he visibly flinched. They pulled up to another red light, and she pulled on his arm until Blake was staring her in the eyes again.
“You’re a monster,” she growled. He just laughed, and wrenched his gaze back to the road
“I’d be a hero, if Carter would just listen to me. I’ll go behind her back, if that’s what it takes. I’d do anything to save humanity.”
“But you’re still cowardly enough that you’ll resign rather than face the noose,” Daisy snapped.
“She can’t execute me, leaking information to the press isn’t punishable by death,” he blustered.
“SHIELD’s always been special. Part military, part civilian, with oversight over everything and accountability from no-one. It’s pretty fucked up, sure, but we both know it means Carter can do whatever the fuck she wants to you. Don’t try to call my bluff,” she warned.
“I can retire early and get replaced by your pet assassin, or die screaming?” Blake asked rhetorically, chuckling to himself.
“Correct.” He blanched, followed immediately by his features contorting with hatred. Daisy would have flinched back if she hadn’t been expecting it all along. She was mostly just surprised he’d lasted this long without going all Hulk. Then again, it was usually the worst bigots who were calm and collected in their hatred. Blake’s well-thought out plan for a quick, efficient Inhuman genocide was proof of that. Daisy could picture it in her mind’s eye. One missile was all it would take, he was correct in that assessment. There were no missile defenses at Afterlife, and it wouldn’t be feasible to create any. Even if an initial strike missed, the ensuing avalanche would bury the entire place under countless tons of ice and snow. SHIELD still had the power to wipe out her entire species with the press of a button, and it was entirely up to her to prevent that from happening.
“I always hated you,” he hissed.
“The feeling is mutual,” Daisy assured him. They reached another red light, and Blake groaned in frustration, resting his head on the steering wheel.
“You win. I’ll retire. Happy?”
“Very much so.”
“Is Keller next on the chopping block? Lane?” he asked.
“They don't have to be. Unlike you, they knew when to let sleeping dogs lie. Besides, Lane’s retiring soon. Friedman’s in line to take his place,” Daisy explained. She’d be sad to see Yossi leave STRIKE, but he was even older than she was. At 54, she was certainly reaching the latter days of her time in the field, even with the benefit of Inhuman physiology. She had no idea how May had lasted so long; although May hadn’t been shot twice in the gut at 25.
“Bitch,” Blake snarled. His tone was dripping with malice, but Daisy could only throw back her head and laugh.
“I’ve been called every insult in the book, in languages you’ve never even heard of. You’ll have to do better than that. You can pull over here, by the way. Your place isn’t a long walk. I think we’re done.” Instead of doing as he was told like a good blackmail victim, Blake ground his teeth and kept driving.
“You’re one of those freaks. You’re an Inhuman.” He sounds just like his son. Unlike Felix, William was just taking a shot in the dark. An educated guess. Daisy didn’t see any harm in messing with the guy a bit, at this point.
“I can neither confirm nor deny that, seeing as you no longer have SHIELD security clearance.”
“You’ve been a fifth column all along. You ensnared Sousa and Carter with powers. You’re destroying your opposition in SHIELD so you can take over the world.”
“Oh my God, will you shut the fuck up for a minute and actually think? I can’t ‘ensnare’ people, I can’t control minds. If I could, don’t you think I would’ve done something to change your mind about me by now?” To his credit, Blake stopped being stark raving mad for a moment, and tilted his head in thought.
“...That’s a good point,” he begrudgingly admitted.
“Yeah, I make those sometimes. All I want- all I have ever wanted- is peace.”
“Peace for our time, huh?” Daisy rolled her eyes.
“I’m not quite that arrogant. Although with how many billions of lives I’ve saved, I might be forgiven for being a bit full of myself.”
“Billions? How?” he asked in something between awe and disbelief.
“That’s classified. Are you going to pull over now?” she snapped.
“Can’t you break the door open or something?”
“I could open it and dive out, sure. But that would hurt. And we still need to stop by your house, go digging for any copies of your files. I’ll know if you’re lying.”
“Isn’t it your job to get the shit beat out of you?” Blake asked, still driving. Daisy was starting to get a bit worried. She’d have so much paperwork to fill out if she punched her way out of this. She gripped the folder in her hands a little tighter, and reached out with her powers. Coulson was still nearby, so at least she had backup, in case Blake made a run for it.
“No, it’s my job to beat the shit out of people. And I’m getting too old for it. Now pull the fuck over,” she ordered.
“That was kind of hot, to be honest,” Daniel admitted over the radio. Daisy suppressed a snicker, and managed to keep her face straight. Thank God this was a private channel.
“How do you know I’ll do what you want?” Blake was still putting up a fight, but his shoulders were slumped, and his heartbeat was slowing. She had him.
“Because, Mister Blake, I’m wearing an earpiece. I recorded this entire conversation. I expect not to see you at work tomorrow. No- take a left here, not a right. I know where you live. I’m not nearly as stupid as you seem to think.”
It took another ten minutes to get to Blake’s apartment, and another twenty after that to scrounge up all the copies he kept hidden around the place. When Daisy stepped back out into the frigid night air, Coulson was waiting behind the driver’s seat of a very familiar cherry-red 1962 Corvette.
“How did it go?” he asked, when she slid into the passenger seat.
“About as well as can be expected. We’re picking up Daniel on the way back?”
“Yup, he’s waiting for us. Notice anything?” Daisy chuckled, and tossed the files she’d taken from Blake into the backseat.
“Love the car, AC. Where’d you find her?”
“Barnes owed me a favor, Stark owed him a favor. Maybe I’ll even let you drive her.”
“I’d be honored.”
Notes:
This is the last of the boring/setup/interlude chapters. Starting from 42, all the remaining chapters will cover the final showdown in '81, along with its aftermath. I can't wait to see everyone's reactions, especially when I kill off [redacted]. Muahahaha.
Unfortunately, since I have an ungodly amount of exams over the course of the next week, there will be a one-week delay in the release of chapter 42. March 13 is the planned release date.
Chapter 42
Notes:
Bear with me, I know this chapter feels sparse and perhaps a bit boring. Even if it doesn't feel that way, it's mostly setup. All the shit that seems nonsensical will be explained in future chapters.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
June 3, 1981
May blinked the spots from her eyes as the blue flash faded. Another jump, even more years taken away. Their last stop, in 1976, had been a chaotic and emotional shitshow that ended in the destruction of a major SHIELD base. She could only hope that this time, it would be less bloody. According to Coulson, the Chronicoms were out of hunters after their attacks in ‘76. Whatever they were looking for in 1981, they had no manpower with which to find it. She put the Zephyr into autopilot, setting it to head to 10,000 feet, and left the cockpit.
“What’s the situation?” Mack was asking, looking around at the assembled agents in the command center. Deke and Simmons were busy looking over readouts, Enoch was standing stoically in a corner, and Yo-Yo was only entering the room as May did. She had a wide grin on her face, and May could feel her joy. She’d been stuck in the healing chamber during her last stop, and was happy to be free.
“Me volvieron mis poderes,” she announced proudly, before zipping across the room and back in a heartbeat to demonstrate. Mack kissed the top of her head, but he stayed focused on his readouts.
“Looks like we’re a bit north of DC,” May informed them.
“It’s mid-1981, if local news radio is to be believed,” Simmons added. May felt the wave of relief from her teammates at the news. Only five years, then. That wasn’t terrible. Daisy likely hadn’t died of old age.
“The Chronicoms’ ship showed up on our scans. They’re not very far, looks like an abandoned warehouse in Baltimore,” Deke said.
“They’re getting desperate,” Yo-Yo crowed.
“They are, and it’s an opportunity we shouldn’t waste. Can we attack them?” Mack asked.
“Not from without. They can withstand the Zephyr’s weaponry,” Enoch stated. “I will infiltrate their vessel and place explosive devices. I am capable of subverting their systems. The ship will be destroyed without bloodshed or complications.”
“Enoch…” Jemma said, but the Chronicom did not seem affected by her grief.
“Do not worry, Jemma Simmons. I will return if I can. And if not, I have prepared contingencies accordingly. My life is the most disposable.”
“How can you say that! You aren’t disposable!” the scientist yelled. May could feel Simmons’ grief draining the energy from her bones, but she shoved other people’s emotions aside, and stayed quiet. This moment was not for her.
“I am a Chronicom. I have existed longer than your species. It has been a good life. But no matter how this mission goes, it will be the last time the entire team is in the same place.”
“How do you know that?” Mack asked.
“I cannot explain. But I can advise you to spend the time you do have well. In fact, I would like to speak to you alone for a moment. There is some information I must impart.”
While Enoch pulled Simmons aside, May felt Mack’s mood switch to grim determination. He turned on the radio, speaking into the mic.
“Zephyr One to Triskelion. Do you read us?”
“I read you, Zephyr One. Good to hear your voice, Mack. What’s going on?” Daisy’s voice over the radio was the best thing May had heard since Daisy’s voice in person, ten minutes and five years ago.
“Not sure yet, but the Chronicoms are back. Can you get Coulson?”
“Will do. See you all soon.”
-
Twenty minutes later, Daisy was standing in the Zephyr’s command center, with May and Daniel on either side of her. It was strange, being back, after the disaster that was ‘76. A lot of good people had died, and it hadn’t exacly made the atmosphere any less tense. Thankfully, aside from a brief and emotional reunion with her mother, it was all business on the bridge. Enoch wasn’t there either, and as far as Daisy could gather, he’d left for some sort of suicide mission. She wished she’d gotten the chance to say goodbye.
“The Timeship is moving, heading straight into the upper atmosphere. Enoch made it on board,” Jemma reported. The rest of the team was kind enough to pretend they hadn’t heard the hitch in her voice.
“They’re sending out some sort of signal, into deep space. We’ve intercepted it, but we can’t translate it. Coulson?” The LMD leaned over the dashboard, reading the information Deke had pointed out.
“She’s informing Chronyca-2 of the loss of her Hunters and calling her fleet. Four ships. Authorizing them to carry out their mission,” he translated.
“Mission?” Mack asked.
“Wiping out SHIELD.” That got everyone’s attention, but was far from surprising.
“What can these ships do?” Daniel asked.
“Sybil sent out the schematics during that original message, the one where she got into SHIELD’s systems. They’ve each got one, massive, energy weapon. It can level a city block with one blow. Nothing we’ve got can match it, or defend against it,” Coulson said grimly. Silence fell for a moment, but a truly terrible idea occurred to Daisy. There was one way she knew of to block capital ship-grade energy weapons without a capital-ship grade shield, or calling in a favor from Asgard that she wasn’t owed.
“Energy weapons? That might not be strictly true. We can defend against them,” she said slowly. Her husband caught on before any of the others did.
“Kora?”
“Yeah.”
Daisy felt awful about this, but she didn’t see another choice. Her sister was only 25, the same age Daisy had been when she’d joined SHIELD. Now, having lived a (short) lifetime since meeting Coulson, she was hesitant about roping another powered, vulnerable young person into ties with an agency that would gladly put her on a list ‘for her own safety’. Kora trusted Daisy, looked up to her, even now that she was beyond needing a transitioner. If she was going to drag her sister into this mess, she was going to do it right.
With Kora’s powers, it was extremely likely that a first strike by the Chronicoms could be deflected. Even so, there were multiple ships, and only one of Kora. She couldn’t defend the entire planet at once. But if Daisy brought her to the Triskelion quietly, she could keep SHIELD’s headquarters safe long enough for a counter-offensive to succeed. Nobody would ever need to know she was there, and this could be a one-off thing. No paperwork, no real danger. Thousands of lives saved. She didn’t feel great about it, but Daisy didn’t see a better option. She’d tell Kora the truth, and let her decide.
The Zephyr dropped Daisy off at a SHIELD airfield, and she flew a quinjet back home. She went straight for the shoebox in her closet, touching the key within it. After a disconcerting swooping feeling in her stomach, she appeared in the transport room in Afterlife. It only took a few minutes searching to find Jiaying, doing paperwork in her office. She smiled warmly when Daisy stepped into the room. Becoming an Elder of Afterlife hadn’t given her more respect from the Inhumans- she wouldn’t have been offered the role if she didn’t already have it- but it had made them more certain that she would stick around. Jiaying smiled warmly when she saw her. After so many years, Daisy managed not to flinch at the sight of her mother.
“Louise! It’s good to see you.”
“Likewise, Jiaying, but I’m sorry to say this isn’t a social call. Is Kora around? I need to talk to her.” Daisy’s voice was coming in a rush, and she couldn’t focus, not with her senses constantly keeping a metaphorical eye out for Chronicoms in the distance.
“I’m right here. What’s up?” Daisy turned around to see Kora standing in the doorway to Jiaying’s office. It had been a couple of months since they’d seen each other, and her younger sister had only gotten more powerful since then. Daisy could feel the power thrumming under her skin, it was only how distracted she was that had stopped her from detecting Kora from miles away.
“SHIELD stuff. I need your help. There’s a bunch of Chronicom spaceships on their way to Earth, right now, with massive energy guns on them. They’re going to target SHIELD facilities, then they’ll probably keep shooting at major cities until the planet surrenders.” Daisy laid it out matter-of-factly, trying as hard as she could not to express this in a manipulative way. She would present Kora with the facts, and she would make her own decision.
“You want me to stop their weapons,” Kora surmised.
“I do. We’re working on destroying the ships, but even if you can just project the Triskelion, it’ll save a lot of lives, and keep them distracted.”
“You’d reveal us to SHIELD?” Jiaying asked incredulously. There was no anger behind it though, just surprise. She trusted Daisy enough to know how much she valued secrecy, she seemed more surprised than anything.
“I’m more careful than that. Daniel’s office is on the highest floor. You can shield the whole building- pun intended- without anyone ever knowing you were there but me,” Daisy assured her relatives.
“I want to help, mom. I want to use my powers for something. Besides, these things attacked us once already. We should take the fight to them,” Kora begged. Daisy had to look away to avoid flinching from their resemblance. When they’d first met, Kora was shy, nervous, and terrified of what her powers could do. Jiaying and the other Inhumans had told her that Kora had been an excitable, cheerful, and shy-yet-friendly child, deeply devoted to her mother. It was only in the last few years, when the other Inhumans fully accepted that Kora wasn’t a threat, and she gained complete control over her powers, that Daisy’s sister had come back into her own.
Kora had grown into a relentless optimist, a bright-eyed young woman who saw the best in everyone and always sought to make the world even better, as much as she could while keeping the Inhuman secret. With lighter hair, a careful application of makeup, and more modern fashion, she could’ve passed for Skye during her time with the Rising Tide. Giving her sister the life she’d never been able to have was the single best thing Daisy had accomplished since she’d come into the past, and it was killing her to not be able to talk to Kora or Jiaying about it.
“And how are you supposed to get into the building?” her birth-mother demanded.
“I can use Jagat’s portals to teleport us to my home, in Jersey. My people can bring us to DC from there. With my authorization, you can walk in the front door,” Daisy said, careful not to betray her emotions.
“Please, mom,” Kora pleaded. Jiaying only lasted a few moments against her daughter’s puppy dog eyes before she relented.
“Alright. You can go. Just… stay safe.”
“I’ll keep her out of harm’s way, Jiaying. With her powers, wherever Kora is will be the safest place on the planet,” Daisy assured her. She just hoped it was true.
-
Jemma could only watch as the timeship slowly approached the four Chronicom battleships, waiting in empty space.
The explosion, silent through the Zephyr’s scopes and the silence of space, was nonetheless visible in intricate detail. Less than a kilometer from the fleet, the timeship rippled, then burst like an overripe grape. Plasma and debris smashed into the closest Chronicom battleship, causing chains of secondary explosions that tore the pristine vessel to pieces. When the reactor was breached, a filmy wave of blue energy tore out from the destroyed ship, taking another two down with it. The flagship was split almost perfectly in two, with the aft portion detonating and the fore remaining largely intact. The final remaining vessel hung there in space, seemingly paralyzed by the destruction of its fellows.
Jemma choked back a sob. Enoch was gone, then. Dead, sacrificing himself to save the planet. Her only companion other than Fitz during the years she’d spent in space. Her only steadfast ally, the only one who knew about DIANA. Enoch had told her some of the vague details of Fitz’s plan, before he’d left for the Chronicom timeship with a duffle full of explosives. Jemma still didn’t remember, specifically, where Fitz was, or the full scope of the plan. But she knew what she had to do.
-
By the time Daisy and Kora teleported back to her home, flew to DC, entered the Triskelion, and made it to Daniel’s office, there were already streaks of orange across the late evening sky. She quickly kissed her husband in greeting, and he squeezed her forearm. Kora faked retching, earning her glares from them both.
“Louise, Kora. Glad you’re here, but thankfully, looks like Enoch took care of it. Three of the four ships are disabled or destroyed.” Daniel gestured out his window, towards the glowing trails. “That’s some of the debris.”
“Sorry for dragging you across the planet for nothing,” Daisy said.
“Don’t be, I’ve kind of always wanted to see this place, and I haven’t left Afterlife in years. Besides, there’s one ship left. Are you guys gonna blow it up with a missile or laser or something?” her sister asked.
“No, we don’t have anything that can reach that far. Unless…”
“What?” Daniel’s brow was furrowed, but he hadn’t yet followed Daisy’s train of though to its rational conclusion.
“I have an idea,” she said.
“What sort of idea?” Kora asked, eyes (metaphorically) glowing with amusement.
“Stark built a lot of really big guns before I took the Tesseract away, including some surface-to-space ones. He can’t power them, but he’s been experimenting with arc reactor tech, and he knows he’s close to cracking it, so he keeps the guns around anyway.”
“Oh God. That might actually work. Fuck,” Daniel muttered.
“What’s a Tesseract?” was Kora’s, much more predictable, reply.
“Long story. The important part is, we have a weapon on the roof that can hit the Chronicom ships- and you’re the only thing that can power it. I don’t want you to think this is the only option you have, though. We have other ways of destroying the ship that don’t require you to use your powers as a weapon.”
“But none fast enough to save everyone?” her sister questioned.
“No. Probably not,” Daniel admitted.
“These things attacked my home, and I defended it when they did. Earth’s my home too, I won’t let it get destroyed. Where’s the gun?”
Daisy’s heart ached for her wonderful, kind, noble sister. If only Kora had survived in the original timeline, everything might have been different. She would have loved to meet her properly. To tell Kora her real name, to revel in all the little habits and features they shared, despite having grown up apart. Instead, she just gave the younger woman a quick hug, and looked to Daniel for final approval. Technically, as Deputy Director, only he and Peggy had final say on who could mess with massive cannons on roofs. He had, however, never been able to deny her anything, and she knew it.
“Take a right out the door, first staircase on your left. Can’t miss it, it’s the big-ass gun,” Daniel added helpfully. Daisy squeezed his hand in thanks, then turned to her sister with an expectant raised eyebrow.
Kora led the way with an excited grin and a skip in her step, far too happy about getting to blow things up. Then again, with her powers, Daisy supposed it was only natural. Her sister nodded appreciatively when she saw the big-ass gun in question, and Daisy quickly went about setting it up. In design, it wasn’t very different from a supersized version of the cannon HYDRA had once attached to the tops of their tanks. It came attached with a telescope and targeting screen, already linked to SHIELD’s sensors, and she carefully aimed it at the last surviving Chronicom ship. It was just floating in space, motionless, as if entirely unable to function without the flagship. Daisy had no intention of second-guessing her luck.
“So… how does this work?” Kora asked.
“Well. The power packs usually go there,” Daisy gestured as she spoke, towards two open, square sockets on the opposite side of the cannon from the control panel, “but we don’t have any Tesseract batteries. So, I’d say just stick your hands in there and channel as much power as you can. I’ve turned the thing on already, it’ll fire when it gets enough power.”
Without a moment’s hesitation or fear, Kora did as instructed. She placed her hands into the sockets, and her eyes lit up a pure white. Arcs of gold energy curled around her, and Daisy couldn’t help a swell of pride at how far her student had come. She was a confident, powerful, in-control Inhuman now, fully developed after spending eight years out of the Mist.
Kora smiled, and the control panel registered a surge of energy. In a matter of seconds, the weapon was fully charged, and it automatically fired. Instead of the usual starburst of blue, it was a beam of golden light that emitted from the weapon. Kora removed her hands, and raced over to the control panel, to watch alongside Daisy. In a matter of seconds, the last of the Chronicom vessels was pierced amidships, and nearly instantly exploded. Daisy let out a low, appreciative whistle.
“Not bad, kid.”
“Not bad? That was fuckin’ awesome!”
“Yeah, it was. Nice job. You’ve come a long way, Kora. I’m proud of you.” In lieu of reply, Kora just pulled Daisy into a hug.
It took less than an hour for Daisy to send her sister back to Afterlife, pick up Daniel in a quinjet, and rejoin the team on the Zephyr. Enoch’s absence made the mood more somber, but they’d won. Finally, after fifty years, they’d won. Even if it was subdued, the sense of relief was palpable.
“The fleet’s gone. The hunters are gone. The Timeship is gone. We won.” Mack wasn’t bothering to hide his smile, and he was leaning against his girlfriend with an arm slung over her shoulder. Yo-Yo and Daisy weren’t even glaring at each other. It was almost like old times.
“Debris is still falling, but as far as we can tell, almost all of it’s burnt up in the atmosphere. The rest is inert, or staying in orbit, most is both. SHIELD’s working on gathering up all the pieces,” Daniel reported. NORAD was having a hissy fit, but everything would work out fine.
“And in this timeline, Slingshot is real. It’ll all get sent into the sun,” May told them. Simmons was present enough, at least, to be relieved by that statement. After a moment’s thought, she looked up from her tablet, and met May’s eyes.
“It’s over, yes. Without the Chronicoms jumping, we’ll remain in this time until we choose to go home. Enoch told me, at the end, that I’d know when it was time to remove DIANA. It’s time,” she said. Daisy knew she wasn’t alone in her confusion.
“DIANA?” Coulson asked.
“It’s a memory-blocking implant I designed, to make me forget where Fitz is. We need to call him, so he can bring us home.” Everyone but Deke was visibly shocked.
“When you say memory implant, what precisely do you mean?” Daniel asked.
“It’s embedded in my brain,” Simmons said, turning around. She pulled up her hair as she did so, revealing the glowing orange triangle of dots at the top of her spine. Now that Daisy was looking for it, she could sense the intricate metal worming its way into the scientist’s brain. Jemma turned back around, lowering her hair, and smiled tiredly. “Removing it as an easy process, I promise.” She stifled a yawn, which did not inspire Daisy’s confidence.
“Simmons, how long has it been since you’ve slept? Since any of you have slept?” she asked.
“Probably about fifty years,” Mack chuckled.
“It’s over, guys. We won. Earth’s safe. Park the Zephyr near the Triskelion, we’ll keep the place clear. You can afford to get a night’s rest before you perform brain surgery on yourself,” Daisy ordered.
“Technically, I’d need someone else to do it for me,” Jemma added helpfully. Daisy just stared at her open-mouthed.
“That’s… so much worse somehow. I still live in Jersey, but Daniel and I keep an apartment in DC. We’ll stay there, come see you guys in the morning. You can do your brain surgery when all the brains are performing at peak capacity.” Her tone left no room for argument.
“That sounds… reasonable,” Yo-Yo admitted.
“Don’t sound so surprised,” Daniel said.
“You sure you don’t want to bunk here?” Jemma asked sheepishly. Daisy tried her best for a sympathetic smile rather than a cutting one.
“I’d prefer my own home, if it’s an option.”
“This is your home,” Jemma grumbled, just barely loud enough to be heard.
“Guys! Enough. We all need sleep, getting into an exhausted screaming match won’t do anyone any good,” Deke yelled, before anyone else could argue. Begrudgingly but obediently, the arguments stopped.
“He gets more reasonable every time I see him,” Daniel whispered to her. Daisy nodded her agreement.
“Have you got a guest room?” Her mother asked casually. Daisy sent a wave of gratitude towards her.
“Of course, you’re welcome to stay,” Daisy assured her.
Daisy fell asleep in her own bed that night, with her head on Daniel’s chest, and the comforting, steady beat of May’s heartbeat thrumming in her senses from the next room over. Her last thought before she drifted off was that, finally, they’d won the war.
The door was already unlocked when Peggy got home, after a very late night spent coordinating the retrieval of Chronicom debris. She wasn’t worried in the least, however. Someone else had a key, and she had a habit of dropping in at inconvenient times.
“Dottie? Is that you? You’ll see me tomorrow at the Triskelion, you know we can’t arrive together,” the Director of SHIELD called, as she entered her front door.
Peggy and Dottie had been able to successfully carry on their relationship in secret for years, now. She was sure Daniel, at least, suspected, but he didn’t care. As SHIELD’s director, she’d been able to get the former Soviet agent’s name cleared years ago, and Dottie now worked as a freelance agent for SHIELD on occasion, taking on tough, one-person missions that no one else could, for pay. Tomorrow, she would be receiving one of those
The face Peggy saw when she entered the kitchen was not that of her partner, nor even of a human. It was sleek and transparent, a mix of glass and metal with creepily normal eyes in the middle of its head. It grinned toothily at her- or maybe it just didn’t have lips- and shot her with a blue bolt of energy. It was still grinning when she lost consciousness.
Peggy remembered everything. Playing in the garden with Michael as a little girl. Graduating from University. The start of the War. Joining Bletchley Park. Michael’s supposed death. Joining the SOE, then the SSR. Meeting Steve. Fighting HYDRA. Losing Steve. Meeting Dottie in the hall of her building. Fighting Leviathan. Whitney Frost. Kissing Daniel in his office. Breaking up with him. Leaving LA for the East Coast. Founding SHIELD. Marrying. The birth of her children. Daniel’s supposed death, and return with two SHIELD agents from the future. A second war on HYDRA. Her husband’s death. Becoming Director. There. The Directorship. Names, dates, building schematics, codes, frequencies. A secret entrance to the Triskelion, open only to the director. No. No, I shouldn’t be remembering this. I can’t. Classified files. Daisy Johnson. Speech patterns. Missile systems. Idiosyncrasies. All rushing through her mind faster than her brain could handle. Until, with a gasp, she woke up.
Peggy was lying face-down on a metal table, with some lit-up half-circle above her head, and a half-pipe of glass above her from the torso up. She pushed off the table, looking around for a weapon, but there was nothing. On the other end of the machine, the thing that had attacked her- a Chronicom, she was sure of it- was pushing itself upright. It was still grinning creepily, fleshless and gleaming. Peggy threw a punch, but the Chronciom caught it, and without any effort at all, crushed her hand in its fist. She screamed in pain, feeling the bones turn to dust, but kicked it in the side of the knee regardless. The Chronicom staggered and she took the opportunity to elbow it with her intact arm. She dodged a punch, a kick, a headbutt. For a moment, she thought it was winning.
When the robot finally managed to land a punch to her stomach, all the wind was knocked out of her at once. She wasn’t in her prime anymore, and even then, fighting something still strong and durable would’ve been different. Peggy kicked at its chest as her assailant pinned her to the wall by her neck, and withdrew a strange device from its chest. It was in vain, the Chronicom was far stronger than her. She couldn’t speak with such a crushing weight around her larynx, and she realized suddenly that the Chronicom was not trying to keep her alive any longer. Whatever it had taken from her mind was all it had needed.
Her rather depressing theory was confirmed when the device was raised to the top of her head and activated. Searing-hot red lights swept over her face, moving far too slowly from the top down. She could feel her skin melting and fusing, and after only a moment she could only see red, then nothing at all.
Oh, thought Peggy Carter, as the device closed off her nose, then her mouth. I never thought it would end like this. By the time she was dropped to the ground, dead, the Chronicom had already applied its new face.
Notes:
Surprise! This is what the major character death tag was for. It gets worse. I make no apologies, this was always the plan.
About Kora. Her character in S7 is very different from her here. I tried to touch on why. Basically, less trauma! Happy life, happy Kora. The resemblance isn’t quite as physically present as Daisy says, they’re obviously not identical, but Daisy is obviously rather used to seeing her own face, and sees a lot of her younger self in her sister. She’s basically shocked at the fact that their relation isn’t obvious to everyone, but nobody else sees it unless they look for it. She’s projecting.
Chapter 43
Notes:
Ngl, I kind of hate this chapter even though it does everything I want it to. It's barely-edited, only just finished, and unbetaed. I couldn't quite get the energy to write this week, even though I had a ton of free time. This is the result. But hey, there's just two more chapters to go, plus the epilogue! There's no way in hell I'm abandoning this fic now.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
June 4, 1981
Amos, last of the Chronicom invasion fleet, disposed of Director Peggy Carter’s body with mechanical precision. After the utter disaster that was Sybil’s plan, it was up to them now to secure Earth for their people. They would not fail.
When a message from a Predictor, claiming to have travelled back in time, arrived on Chronyca-2 years before, there had been a great deal of debate amongst the Chronicoms about how to proceed. The veracity of her claims was easily proven: Chronyca-2 would fall in the Earth year 2019, and the Chronicoms needed to preserve their kind. It was how to proceed that had been controversial. In the end, after several small-scale wars and a civilizational overhaul, Sybil’s orders had been accepted. Her plans for battleships had been followed, with four of the gargantuan vessels being completed by the time her second message had come. All Anthropologists on Chronyca-2 had been converted to Hunters, Amos among them.
Amos themself had been selected to crew one of the ships, and when Sybil’s second message arrived, the fleet had jumped to Earth. The Timeship had still been on a course to rendezvous with the fleet, transmitting data about the current state of the Earth and preparations Sybil’s Hunters had made, when it detonated. Three of the four ships were damaged or destroyed in the ensuing explosion.
Amos’ ship, the last survivor, had immediately descended into chaos. Many of the crew had sought to return to Chronyca-2, regroup, and return to Earth at a later date. Others believed a new planet could be found for a suitable Chronyca-3. Others, like Amos, sought to continue with just the one ship, as Sybil’s efforts had weakened SHIELD enough to strike. The arguing had just devolved into mutiny when the golden energy had shattered the last remaining ship.
Amos had been standing near the escape pods when the blast stuck, seeking to travel down to Earth with a handful of other Chronicoms and secure the planet themselves. They’d been the only member of the group to survive the initial explosion, and had even managed to board an escape pod. Once they’d crashed on Earth, finding one of Sybil’s stashes of weapons and equipment was simple. Located in the basement of an abandoned warehouse in Maryland, it contained everything a Chronicom Hunter could need, from weapons, to spare parts, to a Cerebral Fusion Machine, to copious amounts of research on SHIELD. Peggy Carter’s address had been among that information.
And so, Amos had been left alone on Earth, solely responsible for bringing a planet to its knees, and in possession of the means to kill and impersonate the leader of the greatest threat to the Chronicoms. They’d taken that opportunity. Sybil’s plan had been deeply flawed, but Amos knew they could complete the Predictor’s objectives.
Breaking into the Triskelion was simple. The Director had had a way into the building, unknown to all but herself before Amos had cracked open her memories. Carter had been paranoid enough to keep a way in and out of the building completely off the books, so secretive that Chronicom detection technology hadn’t even been installed. All Amos had to do was walk through a long, nondescript tunnel, and they were inside SHIELD’s headquarters.
With Carter’s likeness and memories, they could do almost anything. Sybil’s plan had priorities, however, and Amos knew they should achieve them before taking advantage of the opportunities presented. They followed Carter’s impressive internal map of the building, ignoring the nods, salutes, and questions they received from various SHIELD agents. They would all be dead by the end of the day, their opinions were irrelevant.
Nobody stopped Amos from entering the underground room where SHIELD’s missiles were controlled from, and Amos paid no mind to the technicians rushing out the door at the sight of her. The Chronicom simply walked up to the control panel, opened the hatch on the tip of their index finger, and allowed their filaments to infiltrate and take over the crude computer system in moments. Alarms sounded, and Amos ignored them. They seized control of one of the missile’s launch systems, and programmed in coordinates provided by Sybil: Afterlife. Removal of the Inhuman threat by sparking a conflict with SHIELD was given top priority. The command to fire was given, and one of SHIELD’s non-nuclear ICBMs were fired. With a bit more time and a trip to the Pentagon, Amos could access the USA’s nuclear missiles too. For now, they would remove SHIELD bases from the map until the organization was crippled.
Amos was interrupted by a door opening behind them, which they were forced to turn around and smile blandly at the woman who had just stepped into the room. She appeared frequently in Margaret Carter’s memories, but
“Peg? You still here? Some of the agents said you were acting- oh. You’re not Peg.” The woman’s eyes were fixed on where Amos’ fingertip dissolved into glowing orange filaments and fed into the missile control systems. Dozens of muscles in her face twitched, but Amos did not care enough to run it through a body language translation program.
“Margaret Carter is dead,” Amos declared flatly. A single tear ran down the human’s cheek.
“Did you kill her?” the woman asked.
“Yes,” Amos admitted freely. Their cover was blown. Lying was pointless.
The Chronicoms had gathered a great deal of information on the former Soviet agent who went by Dorothy Underwood. Even more was buried in the memories Amos had stolen from Peggy Carter. None of it prepared them for the brutality of the woman’s attacks. Amos’ attacker pulled a crude, human-made slugthrower pistol from her belt, unloading it into Amos’ center mass. Had they been human, they would no doubt be dead. For a Chronicom, such an attack only caused minor hindrances.
Amos removed themself from the console, leaping at Underwood, but the assassin was too fast. She withdrew a knife from her sleeve, and before Amos’ punch could land on her jaw, plunged the blade into the Chronicom’s eye. The remainder of their systems shut down almost immediately after that, and Amos dissolved into liquid metal.
-
Daisy and her husband had no sooner pulled into the Triskelion’s parking lot than the alarms began to sound. Luckily, even slowed by Daniel’s limp, crowds parter for the Deputy Director and the Head of STRIKE. By the time they got inside, the alarms had been shut off, but chaos still reigned. A red-eyed Jack Thompson was standing in the middle of the atrium, screaming orders to anyone within earshot. Friedman and Kanoffsky seemed to be debriefing Dottie Underwood off to the side, and Barnes was pacing back and forth, sobbing.
“What the fuck just happened?” Daisy hissed, when they got close enough to Jack to be noticed. Her friend’s face fell, and he looked apologetically at Daniel.
“The Chronicoms got Peggy, used her to launch a missile. Underwood killed the impostor,” Jack choked out. Even after so many years of signing up for it, losing friends never got any easier. He looked between Daisy and Daniel with watery eyes, before her husband finally took pity on his old friend and pulled him into a hug. She gave them a moment to themselves before she offered her own comfort.
“I’m so sorry,” Daisy whispered to them both, once they’d separated. She threaded her fingers into Daniel’s, and was glad to see he was at least aware enough to squeeze her hand back. When the current crisis was over, they would have time to mourn Peggy Carter like she deserved.
“What’s the target?” her husband had the wherewithal to ask, even through the obvious strain in his voice.
“Somewhere in Nepal,” Jack informed them, giving Daisy a weighted look.
“Shit. Afterlife,” she muttered, more to herself than either of the men.
“Go, meu amor, you have time to warn them,” Daniel told her, suddenly all business. The gleam in his eyes was the only sign he’d just lost one of his dearest friends.
“It’ll hit in a little under thirty minutes, unless you can call-” Jack began saying, but Daisy cut him off gently.
“I can make it. Are you alright? Both of you?” She asked.
“No, but they don’t want me there. You’ll have to go alone,” her husband said.
“You can’t leave, Daniel,” Thompson said gently.
“Why the fuck not, Jack?” he snapped.
“Because you’re Acting Director now,” Jack said solemnly. Decades ago, Daisy had told Daniel that Peggy was setting him up to be Director of SHIELD someday. She’d never been more sorry to be wrong. Daniel’s mouth opened and closed several times while he processed this news. He took off his glasses, rubbing at his sinuses in the way he always did when he was overwhelmed. She wanted nothing more than to stay with him, to help him adjust to the new role and get through the mourning process, but she knew she had lives to save first.
“Daniel, I’m so sorry, but-”
“I know. Go, warn them. I’ll see you later,” he said, blinking back tears. Daisy threw her arms around his neck, trying to offer what little comfort she could.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can. I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you too, Dais.”
Daisy paused long enough to brush the silent tears from her husband’s cheeks and kiss the side of his jaw before sprinting out of the Triskelion. She knew her pace was much too fast for a 57 year old woman, and was not ignorant to the strange looks she was receiving, but the mission took priority. It would be quicker to fly to her home and teleport directly to Afterlife than it would be to fly to Nepal, and she In minutes, she was sprinting up the ramp of the Zephyr.
“Mom! Fly us to my house! Now!” Daisy shouted as soon as she was in the plane, amplifying her voice with her powers. Thankfully, the Zephyr was taking off before she’d even fully closed the ramp, and Daisy was in the control room moments later. Her old team was staring at her, waiting for an explanation with bleary eyes.
“Daisy? Care to explain?” Coulson asked.
“There’s a missile heading for Afterlife, I’ve got to warn them. God, I miss the internet. How much faster can this plane go?”
While the speed was impressive, it was nowhere near fast enough for Daisy’s liking. Jemma spent the whole trip babbling about getting her implant removed as soon as possible, and how Daisy should meet them in New York. Daisy filed that information away on her list of ‘things to do after saving her species from genocide and helping her husband mourn the loss of his close friend/boss/ex-girlfriend.
Out of sheer impatience, she ended up jumping out of the Zephyr at 3000 feet and landing with her powers in the backyard, completely ruining the grass. She couldn’t care less. She sprinted inside, grabbing the quantum entangled key from its shoebox. In a flash of light, she was standing in Afterlife’s transport room. This time, she stretched out with her powers, finding Jiaying and Li in her office. Daisy burst out of the room, launched herself into the air, and landed with a whine of her powers outside of the office. She checked her watch while slamming the door open; they had approximately fifteen minutes before the missile struck.
For the second time in two days, Jiaying smiled in greeting to Daisy, once again unaware of the horrible circumstances.
“You’re back soon, Louise.”
“The Chronicoms launched a missile at Afterlife. We need to evacuate. We have fifteen minutes,” Daisy panted, exhausted from how quickly she’d gotten here.
“Li, go find Jagat and Kora. Now!” Jiaying shouted in Chinese. Before Daisy could say another word, her birth mother was yelling more orders, running through the compound, gathering up everyone she could and giving instructions. It was all she could do to follow at Jiaying’s heels and try to keep the evacuation orderly. Within a few minutes, she, Li, Jagat and Jiaying were standing in the portal room.
“I can hold three portals open at a time, no more,” Jagat informed them apologetically. “People will have to get out in waves, to three separate locations.”
“Louise is in Bergen County, John is in Westchester County, and Maribel is in the Bronx. That’s the three closest we have. Can you support all of those at once?” Jiaying asked quickly. Daisy had no idea how she managed to keep the locations of all the Inhumans straight, but it never failed to impress her how much her mother cared about these people.
“I can, yes,” Jagat confirmed. He was an Elder, with a decade or two on Daisy, but still powerful. He removed the three sticks from their rack, laying them out carefully on a table. The portals’ creator was the only one who could touch the quantum-entangled objects without being teleported himself.
“We’re evacuating?” Kora asked incredulously as she ran into the room. Daisy’s sister looked like she’d only just fallen out of bed and gotten dressed, which was probably an accurate assessment. There were deep bags under her eyes, no doubt reminders of the strain she’d put her body through yesterday, saving the planet from Chronicoms.
“Unless you have a way to stop an ICBM? I can put a shield up, but I doubt it would withstand the blast, and the avalanches would be just as devastating,” Daisy explained.
“I can try to shoot it down?” Kora offered, but Daisy was already shaking her head.
“I thought of that, but not with an ICBM. We don’t have any missile defense systems here. You’d have to be impossibly precise. We can’t risk it.”
“I won’t risk our people. Alex, go find John and Maribel. Louise, start funneling people out. I’ll send the artifacts with you,” Jiaying ordered. The immortal Inhuman turned to Daisy, and she was suddenly struck with the realization that she was never going to see Jiaying again, and there was too much she’d left unsaid. She refused to let Jiaying die without knowing who Daisy really was.
“Jiaying, I-” she started, entirely unsure of how the sentence would end, but her birth mother cut her off, speaking too quickly for Daisy to get a word in.
“Go! Get the rest of them out of here! Find a place to regroup and rebuild. You’re the youngest of the Elders, and I suspect you’re about to be the last. Afterlife is yours now. Lead our people well.”
Before Daisy could argue, Jiaying grabbed her arm, and pressed Daisy’s hand into one of the sticks Jagat used as an anchor. The world flashed around her, and when she opened her eyes, she was standing in her living room, a key clutched in her hand. Only then did she realize that she hadn’t flinched away from her birth mother’s touch. Instinctively, Daisy dropped the key, opening the portal for someone else to use. A moment later, Kora was there in her place, tears running down her cheeks, and the key clutched in her hand.
“She- she made me leave. I-” Daisy winced in sympathy, but extended a hand to her younger sister.
“I know, Kora. Come on, they’re going to need our help. Put the key down,” she said gently.
“No! I’m going back!” Kora yelled, eyes flashing gold.
“If you go back, that’s one less person who can leave,” Daisy reminded her. Kora gritted her teeth, but she set down the key. She rushed forward the second it was down, pulling Daisy into a hug.
The next evacuee was clutching a case that Daisy knew to contain the remaining five Diviners in the Inhumans’ possession. The one after that, a chest of Terrigen crystals, grown from the melted-down sixth. More people followed, with books, artifacts, precious relics. Anything that would be needed to rebuild an Inhuman community. But the evacuees, Daisy noticed, were young. Mostly children, Potentials, and recently transitioned.
“Where is she!” Kora demanded of one of the Inhumans. He just shook his head sadly.
“She’s staying behind, Kora. All the Elders are,” Daisy realized. Kora shouted wordlessly, storming out the door. Daisy sensed her pacing back and forth in the yard, and felt her heart break.
Far sooner than Daisy had hoped, the evacuations simply stopped. She felt the shift in the key as its vibrations changed, losing its quantum entanglement. Thirty or so people were crammed into her home, but there had been nearly 150 at Afterlife. Kora had silently slipped back inside at some point, staring hollowly at the crowd crammed into Daisy’s living room and dining room.
“Maybe she made it to one of the others,” Kora said quietly.
“I’ll call everyone together, we’ll find out what happened,” Daisy promised her. Privately, though, she already knew Jiaying was dead.
It took a handful of phone calls; first to John and Maribel, then to some taxi services and the yellow pages, but Daisy, John, and Maribel were able to gather all the surviving Inhumans into an abandoned warehouse in the north Bronx. There weren’t any more than a hundred, with the population overwhelmingly skewed towards the young and pre-mist members of Afterlife’s population. It only took a quick scan of the room to verify that Daisy was, to her dismay, the last surviving Elder.
“Where’s my mother?” Kora demanded as soon as she saw Li.
“Jiaying didn’t come through with either of our groups, Kora. I’m sorry,” Li said, with more emotion than she’d ever heard from him. He and Daisy had never exactly gotten along, but the head of security had come to trust and respect her over the years at least. She knew he would be professional.
“No! She can’t be dead! She’s immortal!” Kora’s outburst drew the attention of others in the room, and the murmurs started quickly.
“What’s she doing here?” Someone hissed. Without Daisy’s increased hearing, she likely never would have heard the comment, but her powers were kind enough to waft the sound over to her.
“I warned Jiaying about the missile,” Daisy snapped. She was way too tired to fend off accusations right now.
“SHIELD-” a woman shouted, but she wasn’t allowed to finish.
“Didn’t do this,” Kora yelled.
“Fuck you, Sousa, you’re one of them,” one of the few survivors left with powers called out.
“Exactly. I know better than anyone. They killed our director, stole her body, and used her memories to launch that missile. We have a common enemy,” Daisy shouted, eyes blurring with tears.
“Are you seriously trying to recruit us right now?” Li snarled.
“No, not at all, we just need to avoid starting another war for no reason!”
“SHIELD already started the war!”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Kora shouted, eyes pulsing with energy. The room fell blissfully silent. “Everybody listening? Good. Louise is the last surviving Elder. My mother put her in charge, and left her the Terrigen.”
“She was the youngest!”
“I think that’s exactly why Jiaying let me live.” Daisy trailed off as her SHIELD radio buzzed at her belt. She put in the earpiece, listening to Simmons’ rapid report while the Inhumans argued amongst themselves. Apparently, she’d removed the memory suppressor, and was insistent that the original team regroup at the Krazy Kanoe, along with all the parts of Enoch’s machine. Daniel’s voice came through next, informing Jemma that he was on his way.
“We can’t all stay here,” someone was saying, gesturing around at the decrepit old warehouse.
“No one expects you to. I have a few places in mind that might work as a new Afterlife, I just have a couple things to address first,” Daisy said gently.
“Jiaying did charge her with rebuilding. I say we let her,” Li declared, to her shock.
“You’re gonna rat us out to SHIELD!”
“She’s going to get revenge on the Chronicoms, dumbass. And so am I,” Kora said solemnly.
“Kora, there’s no revenge left to be had,” Daisy told her, too quietly for anyone else to hear, as the room devolved back into arguments. Li seemed to be corralling people into staying calm, along with a few other Inhumans who she knew better than most. To her shock, Gordon was among the ones on her side.
“But this is Chronicom-related?” her sister asked.
“Yes.”
“Then I’m coming with you.” The stubborn title of Kora’s chin was too like her own, like Jiaying’s, and Daisy had to look away.
“It’s classified.”
“You can’t stop me,” Kora reminded her, hands sparking with energy.
“You’re not a SHIELD agent!”
“Then consider it diplomacy, Louise. I’ll be there to make sure SHIELD isn’t plotting against us,” Kora retorted. Daisy knew her sister didn’t actually believe SHIELD and Inhumans were enemies, and she knew this was a terrible idea. Bringing her non-SHIELD agent, Inhuman, alternate timeline little sister to a meeting of her old team? There was literally no way that could end well. But with the assembled Inhumans, the last survivors of her people, closely following every word the two sisters exchanged, Daisy had been backed into a corner. She was almost proud of Kora.
Even if she hadn’t decided to be so sneaky about it, however, Daisy probably would’ve allowed Kora to come. She didn’t have the heart to say no to her sister just now, not when their mother had just died, Kora was in mourning, and Daisy still couldn’t tell her who she was. No, she was entirely helpless to refuse Kora’s demands.
“Fine. Li?” Daisy called out. He pulled himself away from an argument, moving over to where Daisy and Kora had been arguing.
“What do you want from me?” he snarled.
“Can I trust you not to stab me in the back if I leave you in charge?” Daisy asked. Li raised an eyebrow, but bowed his head,
“I may not have trusted you at first, Louise, but I want what’s best for our people. Jiaying thought that was you. I trust her,” he said. His eyes were free of tears, but the puffiness around them betrayed his emotions.
“Thank you. Kora and I will be back as soon as possible.”
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“The East Village. My team wants us to convene there, Daniel’s on his way too,” she said, for Kora’s benefit.
“Your team? STRIKE?” Kora asked. Daisy smiled sadly. This was about to get very, very complicated. She looped her arm around Kora’s shoulders, and gently led her out of the building, towards Daisy’s car.
“Not exactly, kid. I’ll explain everything when this is over, I promise. How are you holding up?”
“Bad. My mom is dead,” Kora spat. The tears were flowing freely now, which was healthier than loose bolts of energy, at least. Daisy winced inwardly. That had been a rather tactless thing to ask, given the circumstances. She started up the engine and drove south, towards the Krazy Kanoe.
“I’m so, so sorry. Believe me when I say I know how you feel. I’ve lost parents too,” she admitted, immediately cursing herself for the choice of words. It had been a difficult day, to say the least, and she was being much less careful than she should have been.
“Your father?” Kora asked quietly. Officially, the story was that Louise Wen Sousa’s father, Phil Garner, had died in WWII. Unofficially, Daisy had lost both Cal and Coulson at least once each.
“Yeah. Look, I’m sorry I got you caught up in all this Chronicom bullshit. You deserve better. Jiaying deserved better.”
“Don’t be a fucking idiot. You saved us from the Chronicoms, remember?” Kora said.
Daisy didn’t know how to explain that they were only there because of her. Jiaying had only been killed, Afterlife only been destroyed, because the Chronicoms were targeting her, and anyone close to her. Her attempts to save Jiaying from one painful death in 1989 had just gotten her killed in 1981 instead.
Notes:
To confirm:
- all the chronicoms are dead.
- Jiaying and all the Inhumans left in Afterlife are dead.No, I have no idea how Daisy conveniently found an abandoned factory/warehouse. It doesn't matter, I just needed a convenient gathering place.
Chapter 44
Summary:
Fitz returns. The team says their goodbyes.
Notes:
Posting a day early bc I just finished this chapter and I love it! Y'all I made myself sob like a baby writing this, and I blew off studying for a test to do it. Be nice.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
June 4, 1981
Fitz pulled off his helmet, taking in his surroundings. There was no way for him to know when, precisely, Jemma and Enoch would have built the other side of the quantum tunnel, no way to know for certain if it would work until now. But when he saw Jemma’s face, all those concerns fell away, the room fell away. A moment later, Fitz’s wife was in his arms, and he was kissing her, and everything was okay. When they pulled apart, Fitz ran his hands over her face, checking her for injuries, and was relieved to find none.
“Are you alright? Do you remember?” he asked her, putting all his love and reverence for her into the question.
“Yes, I’m perfect, Fitz. I remember Alya. We can go home,” she sobbed joyfully. The reunited couple’s reverie was interrupted by a pained chuckling from across the room.
“Perfect?” an unfamiliar male voice asked. “You’d call today perfect?” Fitz reluctantly turned away from Jemma, looking around the space for the first time. He was in a bar, with one wall removed to make space for the quantum tunnel that had brought him here.
Mack, Yo-Yo, and Deke were all sitting together at a table, seemingly unhurt, and watching Fitz closely. At the next table over, five people were clustered, and Fitz barely recognized them. Coulson, of course, hadn’t aged a day, being an LMD and all. May looked elderly, her hair was pure white, and she was glaring at Fitz with hatred he hadn’t seen from her since Ward died. Next to her was Daisy, whose hair was almost entirely grey, with wrinkles on her face and red-rimmed eyes, like she’d been crying. Clutching Daisy’s hand from across the table was another grey-haired man, in glasses and a suit. Fitz might not have recognized him as Daniel Sousa if it weren’t for the cane. He, too, looked like he’d been crying. By process of elimination, it was Sousa who had spoken.
Next to Daisy was the only person, aside from May and Jemma, who actually needed to be here. Kora looked miserable and sullen, with tear-stained cheeks, but she was present, and that was what mattered.
“Daisy? May? Why the hell are you old? Never mind, it doesn’t matter. At least you brought Kora. Everyone ready to go home?” Fitz asked cheerfully, clapping his hands together.
Daisy, May, and Sousa were far older than they should be, but things could still be salvaged. Fitz had expected, given the likelihoods described in the Timestream, to find the team, sans Enoch, with the addition of Kora, Sousa, and Jiaying. Daisy was supposed to have bonded with her mother and sister, opening the door for Kora and May to wipe out the Chronicoms using their combined powers. Rescuing Sousa was likely, and in many timelines, it was his support of Daisy that secured a victory. He and Daisy were highly likely to end up together, so finding them hand in hand was no surprise. Finding them grey-haired with wedding bands on most certainly was. In the end, though, it didn’t really matter. There was a clear path forward, the rest was just details.
He was expecting, perhaps not jubilation, but certainly collective joy at the prospect of finally being able to go home and finish this. He most certainly wasn’t expecting an uproar. Everyone started shouting at once, with no individuals or words able to make themselves heard over the cacophony, until Sousa banged his fist on the table.
“You’re Fitz? Simmons’ Fitz, the scientist?” he asked calmly.
“Yes, Agent Sousa, that’s me,” Fitz replied, exasperated. Hadn’t Simmons explained the plan?
“It’s Director now, thanks to your plan blowing up in our faces. The only reason I could get away from the Triskelion for this long is because I called in every favor Thompson and Stoner owed me. Before we go through with this plan of yours, I have a couple of questions,” Sousa said, tapping his fingers against the now-dented table. Daisy gave Sousa a look that Fitz couldn’t decipher, and Sousa tilted his head slightly in reply. Daisy nodded, lacing her fingers back through the alleged Director’s, and Sousa returned his attention to Fitz.
“Sure, why not. It’s not like the fate of the world is hanging in the balance,” Fitz snapped.
“First: do you really think I should abandon this timeline, and all the people in it, to save yours? Simmons told us the plan: you can all go back through that Quantum Tunnel and defeat the Chronicoms, but it means leaving this world to pick up the pieces,” the older man said
“Pieces? What pieces? I don’t expect you to come with, Director, but we can’t be expected to save every new universe when there’s an infinite amount forming every instant, now can we? Over the course of this conversation, countless new timelines have spawned. We can really each only focus on the one we come from, trying to save them all is pointless. Some of you need to come if our world is going to be saved, yes,” Fitz quickly explained. Was this really so hard to understand?
Sousa’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t seem dissatisfied with the answer, per se. From her seat between him and Daisy, Kora was now glaring at Fitz with pure hatred in her eyes. As long as she did her part, however, Fitz didn’t really care what the young Inhuman thought of him. Saving the Earth was more important. Saving Alya.
“Second: do you regret what the other you- the one that died- did to Daisy?” Sousa asked, gesturing towards the Inhuman in question. Daisy started to say something, but was interrupted by a question from Kora in Chinese. Daisy rapidly replied, and Kora rolled her eyes, before shutting up and letting Fitz continue.
“How do you mean?” he asked. He hadn’t done anything to Daisy, he’d barely even seen her since the diner, back when the rest of the team was kidnapped and sent to the future. He’d lived more than five years since then: six months in a military prison, a year on the run in space with Enoch, and four blissful years in Theta Serpentis with Jemma and Alya. He and Daisy had only briefly seen each other during the war against Izel, and he certainly hadn’t done anything to her then.
“Cutting the Kree inhibitor out of her instead of, I dunno, having a civil conversation?” Sousa hissed. So that’s what this was about. The Doctor. Sousa hadn’t even been there, why was he so angry? Fitz hadn’t been there either, it was another version of him, the one that had been killed in the fight against Talbot.
“How can I regret something I’ve never done?” he shouted. This was a pointless line of questioning, a waste of time. Slowly, Sousa pushed himself to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane as he limped over towards Fitz and Jemma, who were still in each other’s arms.
“The Doctor was messing with his head, and anyways, it ended up being necessary to seal-” Sousa fixed Jemma with a look that was scarily similar to the dreaded ‘disappointed professor’ glare which Simmons had feared her entire life. She took a couple steps away from Fitz, which he didn’t appreciate in the least, and the interrogation resumed.
“Would you have done the same? Do you think it was the right call?” Sousa pressed.
“To save the world? Absolutely, he made the right choice,” Fitz said calmly. “I’d have done the same.” It was the truth, and if Sousa couldn’t handle it, it was his problem.
It turned out that, despite his missing leg, Sousa’s arms were perfectly fine. Fitz had the misfortune of discovering this fact because the old man punched him in the face. The crack of his nose reverberated through Fitz’s skull, and blood spurted from it almost instantly. Fitz shouted in pain, Mack shouted in alarm, and Simmons shouted in concern. There was far too much shouting going on. Jemma fussed over the broken nose, while Sousa returned to his seat at the splintered table. The arsehole didn’t even seem to have hurt his hand from the punch.
“I’ve been waiting twenty years to do that,” Sousa said, sounding much too pleased with himself.
“The hell is wrong with you!” Jemma yelled, setting Fitz’s nose as she did so. He yelled in pain, but the bleeding began to slow.
“You’re the one who married the psychopath, then broke him out of prison,” Sousa said, chuckling to himself.
“I was gonna punch him!” Daisy whined, sounding ridiculously disappointed for someone who had just missed out on the chance to break her friend’s nose.
“I was already up, Dais. Figured I’d save you the trouble,” the arsehole quipped.
“Can someone please tell me what’s happening?” Kora asked. Did she seriously not know anything? Fitz’s curiosity was sidetracked by a very loud argument between Mack, LMD-Coulson, Sousa, May, and Daisy about when it was and wasn’t acceptable to break noses.
“Can we all go home now?” Fitz asked, when there was a lull in the argument he hadn’t been paying attention to. This was supposed to be simple. He’d had a plan, spent years getting everything exactly right. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
“We can’t,” Coulson said calmly.
“Of course we can! I have a daughter to get back to!” Fitz shouted, immediately regretting it when his nose started bleeding again. Jemma kissed his cheek, though, so it was alright.
“There’s too much at stake-” Mack was saying, but Jemma cut him off politely.
“No, listen to me. We can use the Quantum Tunnel to go back to our timeline, at the moment we left. Some of us go to the Temple in the blue suits, others take on the Chronicoms at the Lighthouse. We need both May and Kora-”
“What the hell do you need me for?” Daisy’s sister interrupted. She’d been lurking so quietly by her table that Fitz had almost forgotten she was there. Patiently, Jemma explained the basics of the plan.
“The two of your powers, combined, funneled through the Chronicoms’ control panel from their flagship. We were originally going to seize the ship in combat, but now we’ll have to scavenge the parts. Your energy manipulation activates and boosts the signal, once we hack into it. May’s empathic abilities can then be shared. You’ll be able to give the Chronicom Hunters attacking our SHIELD empathy, and they’ll surrender,” his wife said. Fitz gestured broadly to her, as if to say exactly! but Kora wasn’t paying him any mind. May’s eyes widened in realization, but Kora’s brow furrowed in a very Daisy-like expression.
“So… I have to go with you. To your… timeline. Because you come from a different timeline. Like in the movies,” the girl said slowly.
“Yes, like in the movies. Did nobody explain anything?”
“Maybe you should ask her if she wants to go, Fitz,” Daisy snarled. Kora placed a hand on her sister’s arm, and once she had Daisy’s attention, shook her head.
“If you need me to save the world and beat Chronicoms, I’m going,” she said firmly.
“Kora-”
“I’m. Going,” the younger Inhuman repeated. Fitz sighed dramatically. As if Kora going with them had ever really been in question.
“Great, the only reason we’re even here decided to come with us. Is the Chronicom fleet destroyed yet?” Fitz asked.
“Yes, it is. But why does that matter?” Sousa asked.
“Deke, Jemma, Coulson, come with me. We need to take the Zephyr up into the debris field and recover the control panel, or jury-rig a new one. Bring the Quantum Tunnel, we’ll set it up on the way. After that, we can go home,” Fitz ordered. To his delight, and no small amount of surprise, he was obeyed after only a modicum of grumbling.
-
When those with knowledge of Chronicom technology were gone, the bar felt significantly emptier. Maybe it was just the absence of Fitz, whose presence felt like a crushing weight even after so many years. She wasn’t afraid of him, but Daisy’s neck had tingled every time she thought about the scientist for most of the 1960s. Watching Daniel break his nose had been deeply satisfying, even if Daisy had kind of wanted to do it herself. She’d already punched Yo-Yo, however. It wouldn’t be particularly kind to make a habit of punching her old teammates just for pissing her off.
It didn’t take long for her to corner her sister by the bar. Daisy knew she owed Kora many, many explanations. Kora had insisted on tagging along to the SHIELD meet-up, but Daisy hadn’t revealed the purpose of it. The younger woman had basically just sat there, watching every batshit crazy thing going on without any context. She didn’t know about time travel, or timelines, or who Daisy was, and she’d already made the decision to leave just because Fitzsimmons said she had to. Daisy didn’t doubt that Kora was crucial to their plan. It was a very Fitzian thing to do, really. Base the fate of the world on Daisy or her kin sacrificing everything willingly. May had had to leave her already, thanks to Enoch conveying the plan. But Daisy wasn’t convinced that this was the only way. She was still a believer in third ways, and she hated ultimatums.
So, perhaps unfairly, she focused on the issue of Kora leaving first, when the two sisters finally had a moment alone. Kora was still obviously distraught over Jiaying’s death, and Daisy was sure she didn’t look much better herself. Between Jiaying and Peggy, it hadn’t been an easy couple of days. Emotions were running high, and life-changing decisions were being made in spite of that. It wasn’t a great combination.
“Please, Kora. You don’t have to do this. You can stay here,” she pleaded.
“I do. There’s another Earth out there, one that needs me. The fuckers who killed my mother and destroyed my home are still hurting people, and I can stop them bloodlessly. It’s the right thing to do,” Kora responded stubbornly.
Even without May’s powers, Daisy could practically feel her conviction. It was so familiar and so justified and so painful, and Daisy couldn’t even tell her sister that she was making a mistake. She would’ve done the same thing.
“There’s always another way. I know what it’s like to have to leave everything behind.” A note of desperation had crept into Daisy’s voice now, and Kora’s eyes softened when she heard it. A moment later, her eyes sparked with realization, and she leaned forward against the countertop, almost eagerly.
“Because you’re from their timeline? They all keep calling you Daisy. Is that your real name?” Kora asked. Daisy had expected anger, accusations, hurt, or distrust when Kora finally learned the truth. For now, her sister only seemed to be curious. Fear over whether that would remain true when the rest of the truth was revealed.
“Yes. I’m from their timeline,” Daisy admitted freely. Kora seemed pleased at having figured it out.
“But you like it here, don’t you?” her sister asked, her confusion evident.
“I do. I really do. But I’m an exception, not the rule. My family is here. For now, anyway,” Daisy looked away from Kora, focusing on a very interesting blemish on the bar top. She couldn’t avoid it any longer.
“I don’t have any family anymore. They killed my mom,” Kora said. “She was the only family I had.” She barely even sounded vitriolic anymore, just resigned to a life as an orphan. If that didn’t absolutely destroy Daisy’s heartstrings, she was a duck.
“That’s… not true,” Daisy forced herself to say, looking up to meet Kora’s eyes. Please don’t make me say it. Don’t make me admit to lying to you for eight years. The hope that bloomed on the younger Inhuman’s face was so much worse than the anger she was expecting.
“She’s alive?” Kora asked breathlessly, and Daisy winced.
“No, god, I’m so sorry I phrased it that way. You still have family.” Kora looked at her in confusion, and so she bit the bullet. All her deepest secrets came to light in just a few seconds. “My real name is Daisy Louise Johnson. Our mother named me after the song she used to sing to you, the same song she used to sing to me, Daisy Bell. My earliest memory is her humming that to me. That’s my theory, anyway. I’ll never be able to prove it.”
Kora just blinked a couple of times, and Daisy watched the information sink in.
“What? You’re my… sister?” Kora’s voice was full of disbelief, and… was that hope?
“I am. I was born in 1988. Jiaying left Afterlife at some point, but probably before ‘85 or so. She worked in a clinic for a while, in the village she was born in. She settled down, married a human. They were happy. He was a doctor, and she was going to go to med school. When I was six months old, HYDRA kidnapped her. Reinhardt, a HYDRA scientist who discovered she had powers back in WWII, vivisected her and stole her blood and organs. My father pieced her back together, but she was… different. Crueler. She didn’t care about humans anymore.
“By the time they made it back to the village, I was missing, taken first by HYDRA, then SHIELD. My parents did terrible things to find me, killed hundreds, butchered the whole village just to heal Jiaying. I was twenty-six when my father finally found me, put me through the Mist, and brought me to Jiaying at Afterlife. I didn’t hear anything about you, though we didn’t have much time before it all fell apart again, and I was orphaned a second time. But my best guess? The version of you in that timeline died, somehow, before I was born. And it caused your mother- our mother- to leave,” Daisy explained slowly. Kora’s face was carefully blank, and she waited a few too many heartbeats before replying.
“I- I’m not sure what to say. How could you not tell me?”
“Because if I told you, you’d have a different image of your mother than the one you do. Jiaying tried to kill me, Kora. She put her hands on my face and drained the life out of me. My father had to kill her to save my life, and we wiped his memory afterwards to keep him sane. Before that, she attempted to wipe out humans, launched a campaign of genocide. HYDRA shattered her mind. She was cut apart over the course of a week. The woman who tried to kill me isn’t the one I’ve gotten to know over the last few years. She’s not the one you know,” Daisy argued. Even as she said it, she knew it was a lame excuse. It reeked of ‘from a certain point of view’.
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Kora whispered.
“You believe me?” Daisy asked hesitantly. It was a start, at least.
“I believe you, but I wish I didn’t,” her sister admitted.
“That was… essentially my reaction too, when I lived through it.”
“You’ve known I was your sister since that first day? When you came to Afterlife? You never told mom who you are?” her tone was demanding now, but still not accusing, by some miracle.
“Never. But I avenged her. I brought down HYDRA, and killed this timeline’s Reinhardt myself. Coulson killed my timeline’s version of him. And yes, I didn’t know who you were at first, but I put it together when Jiaying walked into the room. I was trying to tell her who I was when… when it happened.” Daisy couldn’t help but wonder how differently things might have gone if Jiaying had just let her confess, in those last moments before Jagat’s portals whisked her away from Afterlife. But she’d made her peace years ago with what-ifs; she’d just have to live with the uncertainty.
“That’s why you always flinched when she touched you,” Kora said, realizations flooding into each other. “She always thought you were just twitchy. And that’s why our powers are so similar, how you knew you could train me. Oh my god, we even look alike! You smile like I do! How did I not notice this? Wait- I thought Mei was your mother?” Kora’s expression was no longer blank, but it was so unreadable it might as well have been.
“That started as a cover when we were both stranded in 1955 and needed false identities. Her name is Melinda May, not Mei Wen. She was my SO before that, she trained me, taught me Tai Chi and control. We were always close. We posed as mother and daughter, and after a little while it stuck,” Daisy explained.
“And Afterlife? What happened to it in the other world?” She’d been dreading that question, but after so many years of lying about everything, she owned Kora the truth.
“Jiaying blew it up and framed SHIELD for it. The war that followed, the war she started, got a lot of Inhumans killed. She was trying to wipe out humans, but thankfully failed. Hive did even more damage.”
“Hive? From the stories? The one you trapped on that planet?”
“Yeah, him. He’s properly dead in the other world, but Inhumans are known to the general public, and it’s not easy to be one. That’s one of the reasons why I chose to stay here, I can still be hidden. Being an infamous celebrity is hard, being an Inhuman one is terrible. It can be dangerous.
“There’d be a place for you in SHIELD, but even though they don’t persecute Inhumans, they do treat us like living weapons; another reason I prefer it here. I’ve spent a long time making this timeline’s SHIELD better. As for the world at large, there’s a lot to adjust to technology-wise, and culturally. Inhumans are feared by most, and occasionally persecuted by governments. It’s only been a few years since we were revealed.” Kora’s brow furrowed at that revelation, but it didn’t seem to weaken the girl’s resolve, if the set of her shoulders was any indication.
“And all this was… mom’s fault?”
“Not your mother. Another version of her. One who went through things that no one could experience without going mad. Your mother was a good woman, I considered her a friend. I’m glad I got to know her, even if I never told her who I was.”
“Then it sounds like I really am needed over there. You taught me well, sis.” Kora’s sudden lopsided grin was a mirror to the one that tugged at Daisy’s lips at the epithet, though they both returned to a more somber mood quickly. Kora’s mother was still dead. She was still processing a lot .
“I’m so, so sorry Kora. I never wanted to recruit you to SHIELD, I wouldn’t wish that on any Inhuman. I asked for your help because I thought you could save lives, and I don’t regret it, but you really don’t need to do this. Leaving your life behind, joining a much worse version of SHIELD in a much worse world? I chose to stay here for a reason.” It may have been a selfish reason, but it was a reason nonetheless.
At twenty-five years old, in 2013, Daisy had been kidnapped out of a van in LA and forced to join SHIELD. Now, Kora, the same age in 1981, had a stubborn tilt to her chin that Daisy was much too familiar with. May called it her ‘fuck you I won’t do what you tell me’ face.
“It sounds like your SHIELD needs me as much as this Afterlife needs you. You saved most of my people, even if my home didn’t make it through. Rebuild Afterlife for me, will you? Mom would’ve wanted it,” Kora told her.
“I know,” Daisy whispered. “I’ll do it. I really can’t get you to stay?”
“No. I need to do this. For mom, if nothing else. And just so you know: I forgive you. I’m pissed as hell, don’t get me wrong, but I do forgive you. I wish I could stay. I always wanted a sister.” Kora smiled through her tears. “You said you got stranded here in 1955?”
“That’s right.”
“I was born in ‘56. I’ve had you all my life,” Kora said, as if it wasn’t life-shattering. Daisy blinked back more tears, and blew her nose in a bar napkin. “I’m glad it was you,” the younger woman whispered, and the trickle of tears became a flood.
“I’ve cried too much already today. This isn’t fair,” Daisy sobbed. From across the room, Daniel and May were watching the two sisters with concern. Daisy shook her head slightly, and they stood down for the moment, but she knew the tears were worrying her mother and husband.
“Goodbye, Daisy Johnson. Thank you. For everything. I’m not sure how, but you probably saved my life. Your training saved me, I’m sure I know everything I could ever need.”
“Don’t thank me yet. SHIELD might still get you killed,” Daisy mumbled through her tears.
“I’d like to see them try.” Daisy was equal parts horrified at her sister’s naive, youthful bravado and incredibly proud of the stubborn woman she’d become.
“I’m sorry I can’t go with you,” she said.
“I get it, really. Oh, and by the way- do you mind if I steal your last name? If I’m going back out in the world, I can’t just go by ‘Kora’, can I? White people would throw a fit.” Daisy’s lower lip trembled, but when she looked up at her sister, the younger woman’s face was completely serious, if a little teary-eyed.
“I’d be honored,” Daisy whispered.
The two sisters spent the hours between their conversation and the return of the mechanics engrossed in conversation with Daniel, May, and sometimes Yo-Yo and Mack in one of the Krazy Kanoe’s tables. Kora integrated into the Sousa/Wen (or Sousa/Johnson/May) extended family dynamic so flawlessly that Daisy was regretting not introducing her to Daniel years ago.
Eventually, however, the team returned. Fitz reported that everything was set up, and then there was nothing keeping them all together. Most of the goodbyes were perfunctory. There was too much awkwardness, and Daisy had gotten used to never seeing them again years ago. Within a few minutes, Fitzsimmons, Mack, Deke, and Yo-Yo were waiting by the door, ready to leave.
“You don’t really need me for anything else, do you?” Coulson asked suddenly.
“No. You were programmed with standard Chronicom mechanical and language knowledge, as an ally in the fight. Your understanding of SHIELD history was even more important. But you’ve done all you need to, now,” Fitz said, not even bothering to hide his exasperation.
“Great. Then I’m staying.”
“Coulson?” raw hope was in Daisy’s voice. Coulson may have stuck around after ‘73, but she’d expected him to return with the Zephyr. She was glad he’d still be here, even if his lack of aging was starting to get a bit creepy.
“I’ve already died enough times in the original timeline. You’ll be just fine without me,” the LMD quipped. Nonetheless, he went to say goodbye to Mack, Yo-Yo, May, and Fitzsimmons, leaving the Sousas with Kora for a moment.
It would just be rude to put it off any longer. Daisy smiled sadly at her sister, but Kora spoke first.
“Can you tell the other Inhumans that I’m sorry for leaving them?” she asked shakily.
“I’ll find some version of the truth. I’ve got a couple people I was looking out for in the other timeline- not many, but a couple. I’d appreciate it if you could keep an eye on them for me,” Daisy said. It might’ve been easiest to ask May or Mack, but Daisy had a feeling they’d like Kora more. Daniel squeezed her elbow from his spot on her right.
“Sure, who are they?”
“Amanda Campbell, Ace Peterson, Gabriel Reyes, and, uh… wow. I think that’s about it, actually. Everyone else I know is a SHIELD agent. I don’t even know Amanda, really, I just sent her and Gabe part of my salary,” Daisy explained. The names meant nothing to her, but Kora accepted the request with a grim nod regardless.
“I’m sure I can convince Mack to give them 26 years of backpay for you,” Kora said with a wry grin.
“I have gotten paid while here, you know. I’m on the payroll for this timeline’s SHIELD. Head of STRIKE and all that.”
“He doesn’t need to know that,” her sister joked, and Daisy couldn’t help but laugh.
“No, I guess not.”
“You’re going to rebuild Afterlife for us?” Kora asked.
“Yeah, well, I was going to retire from the field soon anyway. Should give me enough free time to run a secret alien commune.”
“And SHIELD will be funding it, completely off the books. It’s the least we can do,” Daniel added.
“Mom was always over dramatic about it. It’s less work than you think,” Kora assured her, squeezing her hand.
“I guess I’ll find out soon enough.” Daisy smiled, and stuck out her hand. “Good luck, Agent Kora Johnson. If anyone can save the world, it’s you.”
Daisy was, in spite of herself, still surprised when Kora stood, dragged Daisy out of the booth, and pulled her into a crushing hug. As always, Kora was unnaturally warm, and it was deeply soothing. She sent a gentle pulse of golden warmth along her arms, and Daisy allowed a small amount of her vibrations to leak out in response.
“Bye, sis. Love you,” Kora whispered, when they finally pulled apart. Daisy smiled sadly, and kissed the crown of her sister’s head.
“I love you too. Goodbye, Kora,” Daisy said softly, in their mother’s native tongue. Kora wiped at her eyes, gave Daniel a quick and awkward hug, and all but ran out of the bar, shaking with repressed emotion. Daisy felt her waiting outside, pacing back and forth while shaking from tears. She only wished she could do more to help Kora, but there was nothing left to be done.
Coulson finished his goodbyes a moment later, taking the longest with May, and leaving all the others in tears. Her old team soon left the bar, leaving only May, Coulson, Daniel, and Daisy inside. Daisy tracked their vibrations until they boarded the Zephyr, waiting just down the street.
May and Daniel said their goodbyes. It was emotional, and sweet, and Daisy barely heard it because she wanted to throw up so badly. When they were done, and May was looking at her with unconditional love in her eyes, and positive emotions pouring out of her, Daisy just about lost the last of her composure.
“I love you, Mom.” The words fell out in a rush, and Daisy knew the sentiment would be carried by her emotions more than her words.
“I love you too. Thank you, so much,” her mother said. With a start, Daisy realized May was crying because of her own emotions for the first time in decades.
“Thank me? For what?” Daisy asked.
“Being the daughter I always wanted. I’d given up on having children long before I met you. I’m glad I was wrong,” May told her, and somehow, another wave of tears showed up.
“Thank you. For always having my back, for thirty years. I know I didn’t always deserve it.”
“It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done,” May assured her. “I liked being Mei and Louise Wen, mother and daughter.”
“So did I,” Daisy admitted. “I still do, though I prefer Melinda May and Daisy Johnson, mother and daughter.”
“So do I,” her mother choked out through her tears.
They hugged tightly, and Daisy’s mother kissed her on the cheek. With that, it was done. There was no reason left to stall. The remaining four Agents left the Krazy Kanoe, one of them for the last time. Mother and daughter walked down the street arm-in-arm, while Coulson and Daniel trailed slightly behind. After a couple minutes, they reached Tompkins Square Park, where the cloaked Zephyr was waiting. One more round of whispered goodbyes and hugs all around, and it was over. May, Kora, Deke, Fitz, Simmons, Yo-Yo, and Mack boarded the Zephyr, and the ramp closed.
Fitz had explained that the jump into the Quantum Realm could only be safely done outside the atmosphere, so there would be no dramatic blue flash that time. Instead, the Zephyr rose into the air and, eventually, disappeared from sight, taking half Daisy’s family with it.
“Now what?” she asked the empty sky.
“We rebuild. Together,” her husband said.
“I’ll be around for the rest of your life if you ever need me, Daisy,” Coulson promised her.
“You know… I could use some behind-the-scenes advice on collection and disposal of all the Chronciom-related debris,” Daniel offered. Coulson smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes.
“I’d be happy to help.”
“We should get back to the Triskelion before Jack flays me alive,” Daniel murmured after they’d all spent a few minutes sitting on a park bench aimlessly.
“You’ve both been through a lot lately. You need each other. Without Peggy…” Daisy trailed off, not wanting to grate on raw nerves. Neither of them had completely forgiven Peggy for brainwashing people, but that didn’t mean they didn’t miss her.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll be keeping Jack around. I think Deputy Director Thompson has a nice ring to it, don’t you?” Daniel asked, a wry lilt to his smile that Daisy had missed.
She kissed him chastely, and the joke earned a couple of chuckles, but all three were quiet after a couple of moments. Despite being busy people with endless, incredibly important responsibilities, nobody moved. They sat together in that park, silently watching the sky, until long after it had faded from blue to black.
Notes:
C45 will be posted as soon as it's done- but the deadline of next thursday evening (US eastern time) holds. So, it'll be up at the usual time next week at the latest. The epilogue has been completely done and relatively untouched for about six months, and will be posted at the same time as C45.
To be clear: the next/final update will be no later than 9pm on Thursday, April 3rd. C45 and C46 (the epilogue) will be posted simultaneously. I know this feels like an ending, and tbh it probably could be, but some shit still needs to get wrapped up. Both chapters are important, so be careful not to miss 45.
Chapter 45
Summary:
Vignettes from the aftermath.
Notes:
A reminder that C46, the epilogue, is going up at the same time as this chapter. Don't miss it!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
June 6, 1981
“Thank you for meeting with me, President C- Car-,” Daniel trailed off, blinking back tears. Instead, he clasped the offered hand of President Jimmy Carter (no relation), and swallowed thickly. “I’m so sorry, Mister President, I-”
“It’s alright, Director Sousa,” the President said, and gestured for Daniel to have a seat across the desk from him. Daniel hadn’t been to the Oval Office in years, and this was his first time doing so since his official Senate confirmation as Director of SHIELD. “I understand the two of you were close.”
“Not as close as we used to be, but she was still a dear friend. I have… big shoes to fill to say the least.”
“And I’m confident you’ll be able to fill them. You wanted to update me on SHIELD’s operations, after the missile incident?” Carter asked. Daniel managed not to shift uncomfortably in his seat. ‘Incident’ was a very polite way of putting ‘your agency launched a deadly weapon at a country we’re not at war with’.
“I did, yes,” Daniel confirmed.
“I’d appreciate a straight answer on what exactly happened. I’ve heard three different stories and none of them make any sense.”
Daniel nodded, sucked in a breath, and lied through his teeth to the President of the United States. He wove together a gigantic pile of bullshit with a few nuggets of truth. Daniel ‘explained’ that, after the destruction of the Chronicom fleet by SHIELD agents, one survivor had managed to kill and impersonate Director Carter, launching a missile at Moscow. While Agent Underwood killed the infiltrator, Agent Mei Wen, only just returned from a long-term operation meant to undermine the Chronicoms, was able to remotely activate the missile’s course correctors, causing it to move off course and crash into a mountain. Unfortunately, Agent Wen was killed by the infiltrator before Agent Underwood could finish it off. Daniel shed a few very real tears to sell the story, both for Peggy and for ‘Mei’.
When he was done spinning his half-truths, the President seemed worried, but satisfied with the explanation.
“My deepest condolences on the loss of your mother-in-law, director. How is your wife handling things?” he asked kindly. Daniel winced at the reminder of May’s absence. She would be sorely missed, and unfortunately, announcing her death was the safest way to explain the fact that she would never be seen again. Even so, they’d have to hold a funeral soon, and it was going to suck.
“As well as can be expected. She’s decided to step down from fieldwork, although she was planning to do so anyway, and she’ll stay in SHIELD. Agent Takashima will be handling field ops from now on,” he settled on saying.
“I’m glad to hear that, we need more people like your wife. You’re absolutely certain this will never happen again?”
“I’m certain of nothing but death and taxes, sir. A number of administrative and protocol changes are being made in case the Chronicoms ever attempt a return to Earth. Mr. Stark is increasing his research into space travel, and defensive capabilities against extraterrestrials. Chronicom detectors are remaining in place. Deputy Director Thompson has been put directly in charge of shoring up our defenses.”
“And you’ve decided to abolish the Index, I hear? I believe that would undermine security, unless I’m mistaken,” the President asked pointedly.
“We believe that keeping a registry of Enhanced individuals makes them more likely to attempt to hide from the government, and, more importantly, creates a list that can be stolen or leaked. SHIELD will be pursuing a policy of allowing Enhanced to integrate into society- although we will be available for law enforcement action when one actually violates a law, rather than simply having powers by chance.”
Daniel made no mention of the other changes he’d put into motion. The destruction of any documents even remotely related to Inhumans or time travel. The careful modification of security tapes and documents going back decades. His wife’s secret would remain buried. Only Jack, Stark, Bucky Barnes, Gabe Jones, Yossi Friedman, and Daniel’s niece knew the truth. He and Daisy had finally told Alice about time travel just a couple of weeks before Peggy’s death. He didn’t regret it, although it certainly made things more complicated.
“This is SHIELD’s new official policy, Director Sousa?”
“With your approval, of course, Mr. President. Captain Rogers’ actions during the War, and Agent Barnes’ during the fight against HYDRA, have proven that Enhanced can excel as agents within the framework of SHIELD, if we give them the chance to. However, Agent Barnes’ actions since have proven that they’re people too. He’s married, sir. With a dog and a desk job. He left the agency for years with no repercussions. Shouldn’t every Enhanced have the same opportunity?”
Daniel made no mention of his wife being Enhanced, of course, or how many of ‘SHIELD’s’ ideas about the matter came directly from her. She’d asked for it to be that way, to protect the secret they’d spent 25 years keeping. Even now, revealing she had powers could only end badly. But if, under his directorship, they could steer SHIELD in the right direction, together? To build a better world for Inhumans and other Enhanced? That was all she’d ever sought to accomplish. Daniel would be satisfying with his directorship if he could make that happen with her.
“I see your point, Director. But you know, of course, that the moment something goes wrong, the blame will fall on you,” the President warned.
“It won’t go wrong, Mr. President. I can assure you of that. In fact, in a few years, I think SHIELD should launch a new program. A team of Enhanced individuals, with protecting the planet as their mandate. The Avengers Initiative, it’ll be called.” Carter seemed to consider that, but thankfully smiled after a moment.
“I admit I’m grateful that all this is classified, and we don’t have to explain it to the voters, but I’ll give you the green light for now, Director Sousa. Do you have people in mind for this team?”
“Not yet. But I’m confident they’ll emerge in time,” Daniel said, just barely managing to keep a knowing smile off his face.
June 12, 1981
“What is this place?” Li asked, when the last of the trucks had pulled up to the empty town square. Daisy leapt out of the driver’s seat, with the other Inhuman following her down from the passenger seat a moment later. As they helped other Inhumans unload their things and exit the half-dozen other trucks in the convoy of Inhuman survivors, Daisy explained the situation.
“SHIELD bought a few former coal towns after the mines ran dry. They got refurbished, turned into training grounds. For running practice operations, training, that sort of thing. There’s power, water, a fence. It’s far enough away from civilization that nobody would stumble in on a classified training exercise, and it’s completely off the books. We can rebuild Inhumanity here. I call it Eden,” she said, unable to keep the smile from her face. She wouldn’t be staying at Eden all the time, of course. She still had duties at SHIELD, and would much rather fall asleep next to Daniel than in an empty house in the Appalachians. Even so, Jiaying had left Inhumanity in her hands, and this place was her responsibility.
It was the perfect solution. A new Afterlife, with off-the-books SHIELD money. A US government property if anyone asked, but unknown to everyone in SHIELD except her and Daniel. Easy to hide from his successors, with minimal setup or funding required. Once Gordon went through the Mist, they’d even have a teleporter. She’d explained to Li and the others that Kora had chosen to hunt down the rest of the Chronicoms, which was mostly true, and they’d all grimly accepted the need for revenge.
“There’s only a handful of us left with powers, Louise,” Li reminded her, the pain as clear in his voice as it had been in her own.
“I know. I think we should change that. Gordon should go through the Mist.”
“Gordon? He’s-”
“Not scheduled for another year and a half, I know. But he’s the next on the list. It’s only fair. We need more Inhumans, and he’s the closest to ready. I have a good feeling about him.” The original Gordon had been fanatically loyal to Jiaying, but she knew the blue-eyed kid named Gordon, the one from this timeline, fairly well. She trusted him, and she knew he’d still be a good man after the Mist.
“Any other feelings you have that I should be aware of?” Li snapped, a blood-red knife flashing into existence in his hand. Daisy raised an eyebrow, and it disappeared. “Sorry. Force of habit. It’s been a rough few days.”
“I understand,” she assured him. “And yes, I’ve had a few. For now, we should focus on setting up power-proof transition rooms for those just out of Terrigenesis, and a memorial set up for those killed in the attack,” Daisy suggested. Li seemed much more agreeable to that suggestion, but as always, he found a flaw.
“How are we supposed to pay for the materials?” Li was reliable, loyal to Inhumanity, but he and Daisy had never gotten along. She did, however, trust that he wouldn’t literally or figuratively stab him in the back, and he’d make things better for their people without trying to commit any genocides. As sad as it was that it was all she could hope for, it was better than nothing.
“Maybe through the several million dollars in SHIELD funds being allocated to the highly classified ‘Project Eden’ by one Daniel Sousa, for the purposes of planetary security. Ever heard of him?” Daisy joked, completely devoid of humor.
“And what happens when your husband retires? Who keeps food on the table then?
“If we invest the cash now, we’ll be able to fund ourselves sooner than late. I have a plan, Li. This, having to rebuild from scratch, with all the elders dead? It fucking sucks. But our people are stronger than this, and we will survive. In fact… I’d like to see the Ledger, when we find the box it’s in. There’s a few names I’d like to add. Potentials who I met through work.” Most of them wouldn’t be born for a few years, but she’d make sure that Lincoln, Yo-Yo, Joey, Vijay Nadeer, and countless others were brought into Afterlife as soon as was feasible.They wouldn’t have to stay full-time, of course. But maybe, just maybe, they could avoid the traumas that had hurt them so badly in the other timeline.
Li harrumphed, but acquiesced with a nod. Daisy spent the rest of that first day helping everyone who had stayed at Afterlife full-time settle into the empty homes. By the time the sun set, it had started to feel just a bit like home.
December 31, 1981
It was at Gabe Jones’ New Years Eve party when Daisy’s past caught up to her. She was chatting with Gabe, who’d officially retired a few months ago, and playfully insisted they catch up. Daniel was reminiscing with Friedman and Morita in the next room over. With absolutely zero warning, a toddler ran into the room, followed closely by a woman who Daisy recognized as Gabe’s daughter.
“Gabe? Who is that?” she asked shakily, pointing to the babbling baby, who was currently tugging on Jack Thompson’s pant leg.
“Oh, that’s my grandson. Antoine. Isn’t he adorable? Antoine, come say hi to Louise!”
The toddler waddled over towards them, staring up at Daisy with big eyes. The boy- Antoine- couldn’t have been more than two. Daisy tried to tell herself she was guessing, but even though she’d never met her colleague’s grandson, she knew her old partner’s birthday. Gabe and his grandson spoke in babytalk for a few minutes, before the old soldier scooped him up into his arms.
“Antoine… Triplett?” Daisy asked carefully, trying to betray nothing.
“Yeah, that’s right. How’d you know that?” Gabe questioned. She sighed, keeping her eyes on the squirming baby rather than on Gabe.
“I never told you, Gabe, but I knew him. Before. He was a wonderful friend. Hilarious, kind, capable. The kind of person everyone wants to be around, one of SHIELD’s best agents. We were partners for a little while, he always had my back. And he died for me. He died trying to save my life, but it was all for nothing. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” she said, too quietly for Trip’s mother to hear, and prayed that the toddler was too young to understand what she was saying.
“He’s alive now, Daisy. Take advantage of that,” Gabe said bluntly, and handed her the baby.
For once, Daisy took the advice to heart. She played with Trip- although she only called him Antoine- until the baby’s mother came to put her son to sleep. Daniel found her staring into space a few minutes later, trying not to cry from joy.
“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked.
“I’m perfect, Daniel,” Daisy said, and meant it.
Closer to midnight- almost morning, really- Daisy found herself in a room with the surviving Howling Commandos. Everyone but Dugan, Steve Rogers, and Jacque Dernier had managed to make it to the 1980s, although they were all old and grumpy now.
“A toast. To the victorious dead,” said Gabe, raising a glass.
“Peggy,” from Falsworth.
“The Captain,” Morita muttered.
“Dernier, the crazy old bastard,” Bucky offered, and a few people chuckled. Jacques Dernier had been the first Howling Commando to die of (relatively) natural causes, killed in a car crash a few years before.
“Dum-Dum.”
Koenig. Trip. Lincoln. Andrew. Enoch. Jiaying. There were so many names Daisy wanted to offer, but none that would mean anything to these people. Instead, she just said, “Cheers,” and downed her drink with the rest of them.
July 22, 1982
Daniel’s appointment to the Directorship meant that a return to Washington could no longer be avoided. They were able to pay off their mortgage on their house in Jersey, thanks to Daisy’s inheritance from May, and get a second home in DC. It was that home which Gordon deposited her on the porch of, after a day spent tending to Eden. She thanked the young Inhuman, who smiled and disappeared in a flash of blue energy.
She stepped inside, immediately greeted by the smell of onion, garlic, and roasting meat. She was unsurprised to find Daniel in the kitchen, looking even more delicious than the dinner he was cooking, and kissed him on the cheek. The meal was fantastic, and they soon found themselves curled up on the couch, watching shitty tv. Daisy was half asleep when an errant thought occurred to her.
“Daniel?”
“Mhm?” her husband asked, sounding as sleepy as she felt. Even so, he kissed the top of her head, and Daisy smiled contentedly, burrowing farther into his chest.
“What day is it?”
“Uh. Thursday, I think,” he said.
“No, the date.”
“The, uh, twenty-second I think. Oh shit!” Daniel exclaimed, seeming to realize the significance as he said it. Daisy pulled herself away from him, allowing them to grin stupidly at each other. The date had seemed less and less notable as the years passed. Now, at 58 and 63, it barely seemed worth mentioning. Not when there were so many other anniversaries, birthdays, and deaths to remember by now.
“How many years is it now? 27?” she asked rhetorically.
“Yup. The great Daisy Johnson hasn’t forgotten addition and subtraction,” Daniel teased, leaning in for a kiss. She rolled her eyes, but smiled into his lips anyway. Suddenly, they both seemed significantly more awake.
“Shut up, Sousa.”
“You mean Johnson,” he corrected.
“Every time you make that joke, it’s with a different last name,” she reminded him.
“We agreed on Johnson-Sousa at the wedding, but it really doesn’t roll off the tongue as easily when I’m trying to make fun of you,” Daniel accused, kissing her again anyway.
“Shut up, Johnson-Sousa,” Daisy quipped, then wrinkled her nose. “Damn, you’re right. Too clunky for teasing.”
“Make me,” Daniel said, a familiar twinkle in his eyes. She did so, happily. Making out like teenagers might’ve involved more aches and pains than it had when they were both in their 30s, but it was no less enjoyable.
Later, when they were getting into bed, Daniel asked her a question she hadn’t been expecting.
“Do you regret it?” he said softly, vulnerably. Daisy wracked her mind for what could’ve inspired that line of questioning, running back through memories of the evening.
“Regret what? Hyphenating our names?” she asked.
“Choosing to stay. I would’ve gone with you, you know. In ‘73 or in ‘81,” Daniel half-whispered, squeezing her hand. The fear in his eyes was real, she knew him well enough to see the years of worry underlying the question. He genuinely thought he was holding her back, that she’d been secretly regretting staying here all this time. Daisy smiled, putting her other hand against his cheek. She loved Daniel Sousa, even when he was being an idiot.
“Not for a second,” she promised, and kissed him again.
- END PART TWO -
Notes:
And so it ends. Epilogue up next!
For those less nerdy than I: in the real world, Ronald Reagan defeated Jimmy Carter in the 1980 election. In this fic, Carter won, and is serving his second term in 1981. A much kinder reality.
Chapter 46: Epilogue
Notes:
Reminder that this is being posted at the same time as C45. Don't miss it!
I've had this written, in almost the exact same condition as it is now, for like six months. It was one of the first scenes I imagined when writing this fic. I hope you all enjoy.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
September 9, 2013
Daisy forced a plastic smile and nodded along, trying not to cry for the tenth time that day. Nick Fury was just the latest in a long line of half-remembered faces offering their condolences, and she just wanted to go home- although it wouldn’t feel much like home anymore. Everything that felt like home was gone now.
“You and your husband are both heroes to this organization, ma’am. Director Sousa was a good man, and he was lucky to have you by his side for all those decades. If there’s anything SHIELD can ever do for you, just give me a call.” She smiled sadly, not trusting herself to speak, and shook Fury’s hand when he offered it. It had been a very, very long few days. Since Daniel had died, she’d already attended a wake, a funeral, and two receptions, none of which she’d wanted to go to, but this one had been her least favorite, because it was full of people she recognized. She of course knew all the family and friends that had attended the funeral itself, and the private reception after, but this one was hosted by SHIELD, in the Triskelion. As a former Director, Daniel was honored by the organization he’d given his entire life to- quite literally, in the original timeline.
An old official portrait of her late husband, staring grimly into the camera, was placed on a table in the center of the room, surrounded by flowers, and backed by three flags: the Stars and Stripes, SHIELD’s emblem, and the US Army’s banner. Dozens of high-ranking officials she didn’t give a shit about were milling about, dressed in dark suits and talking in low voices, occasionally walking over to her, or the three relatives who’d followed in their uncle or great-uncle’s footsteps and joined SHIELD, to pay their respects. She knew many of these people, and had helped train more than a few of them, but none brought her the slightest bit of comfort.
After Fury left, to go rub elbows or whatever the fuck Directors did nowadays, she choked back another sob and leaned more heavily on the cane she needed in her old age. She was capable of taking care of herself, but she was definitely old as balls now. Emma, Camila’s youngest granddaughter, took Daisy’s arm to help steady her. Camila was still alive, although since she was a civilian, she’d only attended the funeral and the family reception, not the SHIELD-hosted one. Daisy smiled her thanks at the younger woman, and was relieved to see tears in her eyes as well. This wasn’t a burden she could bear alone. Daniel had been the one to teach her she didn’t have to carry every weight by herself, but she had never wished more for his unwavering support.
They had never had children of their own for many reasons, but he’d been quite close with his family after years kept apart. The couple had particularly doted on Emma, and despite their strong suggestions to the contrary, she’d joined up with SHIELD. She wasn’t much older now than Daisy had been the first time she experienced 2013. Despite her age, and her family’s initial disapproval, Emma had turned out to be a stellar agent, which she humbly credited to the Sousas’ many lessons. Once they realized there was no dissuading her from joining, Daniel had taught her to shoot and investigate, and Daisy had taught her computers and combat. Now, she and her wife were among the the top operatives in STRIKE, working alongside Barton and the recently-defrosted Rogers.
The team Daisy had founded decades ago was still SHIELD’s most elite unit, even without Romanoff. Thankfully, the Red Room’s destruction decades ago meant that Natalia Alianovna Romanova was living a normal life in Russia, with a loving mother and a family of her own. Daisy had kept an eye on the Avengers as the years went by, and although Romanoff’s father had left them, she seemed to be a thriving young woman. Bucky Barnes was still alive as well, the serum and years in cryofreeze having slowed his aging considerably. Although he was retired, a widower, and rarely seen around SHIELD facilities, he’d called Daisy recently to pass on his condolences. She’d appreciated it.
Daisy knew that Emma saw her and Daniel as akin to grandparents, and she would miss her great-uncle too. That shared bond was a lifeline in a situation like this, where Daisy was surrounded by those only pretending to care. Those who had met her doting husband only once or twice, or hadn’t spoken to him in years. Reading stories in textbooks meant nothing next to getting to spend a lifetime with someone as amazing as Daniel had been. Daisy had been happy to learn that lesson slowly, over many decades, from Area 51 to mere days before.
“I’m gonna try to get some air. Clear my head a bit before I deal with more suits,” Daisy muttered.
“Are you sure, Aunt Lou? Do you want me to come with you?”
“No, it’s okay, dear. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Emma nodded her understanding. Daisy bade a brief farewell to Alice and Danny- her other SHIELD agent relatives- as well as Emma’s wife, before wandering off into the halls of the building she’d helped create. After dodging Maria Hill, Daisy passed by her old office, a room she’d trained STRIKE in once, an old ops planning center that was now left empty. She’d lived a very long life- she was almost 90 now, Daniel had been 94. They’d spent almost 60 years together- and she regretted none of it. She’d had a happy life, and she was comforted by the knowledge that Daniel had too. He’d had the good fortune to die peacefully, in his sleep, in his own bed, 58 years after he had been supposed to. She’d never imagined the possibility of living this long, of having a peaceful retirement, of having someone there to pick her up after she ran into walls, even when she could barely stand on her own anymore. His absence now, after so many years, felt like a vital organ had been ripped out of her and cast aside. But how many other good people had she managed to prolong the lives of by staying in this timeline? Daisy had had a team she viewed as family in her original timeline, but here, she’d found a real mother for many years, a devoted and loving husband, and even that rare holy grail of families: kind in-laws. She’d brought down HYDRA, made the political landscape calmer, stopped countless wars, saved friends from horrific deaths, and even gotten a retirement when it was all over, complete with a pension. She only wished she’d been able to do it in her own name.
With Daniel gone, only a handful of people knew her true identity, and most of them were in nursing homes; with the notable exception of Coulson’s LMD and the ever-spritely Barnes. She wasn’t sure where exactly Coulson was at the moment, but Daisy had no doubt he’d be rushing back to her as soon as he heard the news. She’d had a good life as Louise Wen Sousa, but she was still Daisy Johnson-Sousa at heart. Coulson was still her mentor, and her friend.
Lost in thought, memory, and grief, she didn’t notice the many agents who nodded to her or saluted, stepping to the side as she passed. She’d been fully retired from SHIELD since the 90s, but everyone in SHIELD knew who she was, and everyone knew who she’d lost. Daisy almost didn’t notice a familiar group of agents at the end of a hallway, but when she did, it snapped her out of her reverie. She’d forgotten about the arrangements she’d made, and it had been so many years since she’d seen any of their faces. She’d have been forgiven for not recognizing them.
There, at the end of an otherwise empty hallway, were Coulson, May, Fitz, Simmons, and Ward. The team looked like they were waiting for someone, and were awkwardly chatting in pairs in the meantime. Coulson had managed to survive the very different Loki incident in this timeline, and Bahrain had never happened, but she knew regardless that those five agents needed each other, so she’d pulled some strings and gotten them all assigned to the Bus despite the change in circumstance. She’d forgotten about it amidst the pain of Daniel’s death, but now, it was impossible to ignore. Coulson looked younger than she remembered him, and he was probably younger than she’d ever seen him. Without the stress of death and T.A.H.I.T.I., he was a sprier man.
May- not her mom, this woman didn’t know her- was almost jovial, laughing with Coulson. Daisy saw a wedding ring on her finger, but not on his. Andrew, she supposed. May deserved that happiness, even if she still thought the two people she’d long viewed as her parents were meant for each other.
Fitz and Simmons were exactly as she remembered them from her earliest days in SHIELD, almost painfully young, excited, babbling about some science topic she didn’t have the energy to understand, and full of hope. She hoped they wouldn’t have to go through what they had in her time. And Ward… Ward seemed much the same as well. He was standing off to the side, wearing his permanent scowl, not contributing to either conversation. Although she’d made arrangements decades ago, and with HYDRA long gone and Garrett never recruited-
As if reading her mind, Victoria Hand entered the hall. She’d met the woman years ago, and they’d worked together on occasion in the 80s, back when Hand was just a talented rookie. She looked much the same now, with red highlights and a severe expression, although Hand was now wearing a wedding ring too, from her marriage to Isabelle Hartley. In 1999, an alert which Daisy had set up years before finally went off, telling her that one Grant Ward had been arrested for arson in Massachusetts. When it had, she’d reached out to Hand, and suggested that the young prisoner might make a good agent someday, with the right guidance.
Once again, she smiled to herself at the memory of how Daniel had responded when she’d explained what she was doing. “You’ve always been a wonderful person, Daisy,” he’d said. “Far better than I deserve. I would’ve let the bastard rot.” Daisy had never quite gotten used to the Framework version of Ward, but he’d been a loyal agent of SHIELD and a good man. The difference between him and the murderous cunt she knew seemed to be the hardass Agent Hand’s mentorship, so she’d nudged the pair in the right direction. It seemed to have worked.
This Grant Ward was one of the best agents Ops had to offer, and he’d remained close with his old SO. He was still a psychopath, but he’d done a lot of good, for whatever it was worth. As she watched, Ward moved to shake his mentor’s hand, but she pulled him into a hug instead. Ward’s tense posture relaxed, and even the agent infamous for the stick up her ass smiled. Daisy blinked back tears and made her way down the hall towards the people she’d known so well, and the ones she thought she had, sixty-four years ago.
Ward noticed her first, and he actually saluted , releasing Hand quickly. It was odd to see him again, but after so many years she’d stopped being afraid of him, and of Hive. She’d survived the both of them, and now Ward from another timeline was saluting her, and Hive was trapped forever, starving on a desolate rock. She’d won. Jemma dropped her bag from the shock, Fitz sputtered out a greeting, and Coulson’s eyes went wide. Hand offered her a small smile, but May didn’t move in the slightest. God, she’d missed them all so much. Well, not Ward. Or really Fitz. And she saw Coulson every now and again. But she missed the others!
“Agent Sousa, ma’am. It’s such an honor to meet you. I’m Agent Coulson, this is my team. Agents May, Simmons, and Fitz. I think you know Agent Hand already. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you, Agent Coulson. It’s nice to meet you all.” She blinked back tears at the sound of Coulson’s voice. It took everything she had not to run into his arms, but he wouldn’t know who she was. This wasn’t the LMD who she saw once or twice a year now, since he had to stay far from SHIELD lest his lack of aging get noticed. It wasn’t the man who’d been like a father to her either. Hopefully, her old team would only see her display of emotion as grief over her husband’s death, not the bitterness of such a half-assed reunion. Thankfully, May saved her, as she always had.
“Phil, I think we’re needed on the Bus. Good to see you again, Agent Hand. And it’s good to meet you, ma’am.” Daisy managed a weary smile, and Coulson’s jaw set. In silent agreement, the team, and Hand, started to leave.
May took a few steps along with the others, before changing her mind and stopping. Coulson raised an eyebrow at her, but when she nodded at him, he continued on his way. When the others had gone, May turned back to Daisy. She looked at her for a long while, searching for something in her eyes and face, before she spoke.
“I’ve seen the photos of your mother, you know. Agent Mei Wen. It was a common joke in the Academy that I looked like a younger version of her, but the older I got, the more I saw it. So I did some digging, a while ago. I thought she might’ve been a cousin, or something. I learned that there were no records of either of you before 1957.
“I know Director Carter claimed you two were working directly for her, but as near as I can tell, you just appeared out of thin air with flawless documents and no exterior records to back it up. I looked for your high school, the hospital you were born in, everything. It was all too perfect. Then, when I got level seven clearance, I learned just how much of the intelligence you provided over the years was on a hunch, or from confidential sources. How essential you were to creating so much of SHIELD’s software, and how what you made was decades ahead of its time. That your mother so often insisted she be called by her first name- Mei , and how much you seem to hate yours.
“I know your husband and mother called you Daisy sometimes, and that others thought it was strange enough to write it down, because even though you’ve sometimes claimed it’s your middle name, it’s not. Your middle name is Qiaolian, just like mine. I even read about how you have a few friends who mysteriously appeared in 73, and a few other times, and just as mysteriously disappeared after helping you with the Chronicoms, the same times your mother is said to have conveniently disappeared, and when she’s said to have died. There’s no surviving photos of them, but I did find a description. And some of those friends sound an awful lot like Coulson and those two scientists over there. An incident report from July 22nd, 1955 at Area 51 was… similarly enlightening. Plus, there’s occasional reports of Coulson being spotted somewhere, usually a very warm and very scenic location, when I know for a fact he’s on the other side of the planet.”
May took a step closer to her, tears shining in her eyes. Daisy had forgotten how to breathe, she thought she’d been so careful covering her tracks, that she’d falsified the records and buried the evidence so long ago. Daniel had spent nearly the entire first year of his directorship covering up the existence of time travel, her identity, and her powers, purging it from SHIELD’s records and constructing an alternate course of events to explain the battles against the Chronicoms. Of course May had been the one to crack it. If anyone outside of a trusted few had learned who she was, what she knew, she never would have had a moment’s peace, and the secrecy of Eden would be ruined. Even most of Daniel’s family had never learned the truth.
“I know who you are, Daisy. I’m not sure why you went to so much effort to put this specific team together, or why you don’t exist in this time, but I’ve put enough together to realize that you and your mother- you and I- travelled back in time with a few other people, but only the two of you stayed. I haven’t told anyone, I’m sure there was a very good reason for keeping it secret. I just wanted you to know that I know, and I’m grateful that you stayed. You’ve saved many, many lives. And if you ever want to meet your half-brother and half-sister, you’re welcome to visit. Andrew would love to meet you. I have my suspicions about who your father is, and I think you just proved that he’d love to see you again too.”
The simple kindness in the offer, hearing her name again when she thought it had died with Daniel, and the surety that May espoused- the pure belief that she was her biological mother, broke Daisy where nothing else had. She sobbed in her mom’s arms for the first time in too many years, and didn’t care who else might have seen. It didn’t matter, because Daisy had succeeded. She’d made a better world than the one she’d left behind.
- FIN -
Notes:
It's been one hell of a ride. Thank you, all of you, for reading, giving kudos, and commenting. It means the world to me. This was a labor of love, and I'm grateful that so many of you have enjoyed it.
This fic may be done, but I'm not done playing with this universe just yet. I have a few side stories planned, including both AUs of the AUs and side stories within the 'canon'. The series will continue to be marked as incomplete until I've exhausted that well of ideas. My immediate priorities, however, will be Where the Sun Shines Through the Rain and Ostrakismos. Go check those out, if you haven't already.
Pages Navigation
Knightlyjay on Chapter 1 Sun 16 Jun 2024 06:38AM UTC
Comment Actions
Carly05 on Chapter 1 Mon 17 Jun 2024 02:57AM UTC
Comment Actions
najavale on Chapter 1 Wed 14 Aug 2024 08:41AM UTC
Comment Actions
najavale on Chapter 2 Wed 14 Aug 2024 08:57AM UTC
Comment Actions
quakinginmystylishboots on Chapter 3 Sun 23 Jun 2024 06:12AM UTC
Comment Actions
JainaSolosWife on Chapter 3 Sun 23 Jun 2024 03:36PM UTC
Comment Actions
Knightlyjay on Chapter 3 Sun 23 Jun 2024 07:17AM UTC
Comment Actions
JainaSolosWife on Chapter 3 Sun 23 Jun 2024 03:36PM UTC
Comment Actions
najavale on Chapter 3 Wed 14 Aug 2024 09:23AM UTC
Comment Actions
LairaPocus on Chapter 4 Fri 28 Jun 2024 10:29PM UTC
Comment Actions
robot_emoji on Chapter 4 Sat 29 Jun 2024 02:58PM UTC
Comment Actions
najavale on Chapter 4 Wed 14 Aug 2024 09:41AM UTC
Comment Actions
WolfFang913 on Chapter 4 Wed 18 Sep 2024 06:20AM UTC
Comment Actions
JainaSolosWife on Chapter 4 Wed 18 Sep 2024 12:54PM UTC
Comment Actions
najavale on Chapter 5 Wed 14 Aug 2024 10:04AM UTC
Comment Actions
najavale on Chapter 6 Wed 14 Aug 2024 10:33AM UTC
Comment Actions
WolfFang913 on Chapter 6 Wed 18 Sep 2024 06:38AM UTC
Comment Actions
Knightlyjay on Chapter 7 Tue 09 Jul 2024 05:16PM UTC
Comment Actions
JainaSolosWife on Chapter 7 Tue 09 Jul 2024 11:14PM UTC
Comment Actions
0009 on Chapter 7 Tue 09 Jul 2024 10:27PM UTC
Comment Actions
JainaSolosWife on Chapter 7 Tue 09 Jul 2024 11:14PM UTC
Comment Actions
robot_emoji on Chapter 7 Tue 09 Jul 2024 10:41PM UTC
Comment Actions
JainaSolosWife on Chapter 7 Tue 09 Jul 2024 11:14PM UTC
Comment Actions
najavale on Chapter 7 Wed 14 Aug 2024 11:17AM UTC
Comment Actions
Elixir_711 on Chapter 8 Thu 18 Jul 2024 08:02AM UTC
Comment Actions
JainaSolosWife on Chapter 8 Tue 23 Jul 2024 01:47PM UTC
Comment Actions
najavale on Chapter 8 Wed 14 Aug 2024 11:37AM UTC
Comment Actions
JainaSolosWife on Chapter 8 Wed 14 Aug 2024 09:15PM UTC
Comment Actions
Pages Navigation