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Daisy was sitting in the Order’s common meal room, with a heretofore unseen number of buzzed and drunk order members. All of the various people she’d put in charge were in a meeting with Sansa. She wasn't there, as they’d discussed getting them used to reporting to, and taking orders from, Sansa, without her there or involved.
Plus, knowing Sansa, all she’d need to do is hear about the filing system for information and she’d doubtless have a better way to do it and organize them already. Best Daisy just stays out of the way for now.
So, here she was, sitting and drinking with the men (and women. She had yet to meet a badass enby though. They're around somewhere, she was sure of it. And Daisy couldn't wait to meet them). Once again, songs had begun to flow around the room.
Fitz is going to be coming by to relax and test out his batch of “nascar hooch fuel”, to quote one of my foster parents, on the unsuspecting Order members soon, from my rough guess at the time I told his order guards to send (force) him out and over here, so I should probably get a song from earth going. But whic- Oh! Right, I did teach that song to Jon, and it was one of the team's, and especially Fitz’s, favorites.
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Fitz was laying facedown on his desk, paper stuck to his cheek, while a glass jug finished filling from the final round of the still. He'd been writing out plans for the Kree portal for a while, and hadn't bothered to think about sleep. Not when he was finally making progress again. But it meant occasionally his body caught up with him.
The still had just finished when Crann did the closest thing to poking him awake, which was coughing loudly till he got up to look angrily at him, and then check if he was sick. This time, Crann used him getting up to send him out the door, and down to the tavern nearby with his Moonshine.
Ah well, I needed to test it out on locals before Daisy's girlfriend can sell it anyway. No telling what their reactions could be biologically. Simmons would be able to figure it out a lot better than I. Simmons. Jemma. I miss her.
He went to take a mouthful of the moonshine only to remember he’d corked the bottle full and was going to be passing it around Daisy’s dark ages cultists
No idea how she can stand spending so much time with them. I mean, Crann and Rickon are alright, but the rest of them… Bloody clueless buffoons. They worship her! That has to be some weird thing, for all she gets at me about my “Pygmalion” relationship with Aida.
As he got closer, he could hear a sound he hadn't heard in ages: the sound of a pub-full of drunk and rowdies belting the Proclaimers.
A stab of homesickness hit him, only partially related to Jemma for once, as she was usually not the biggest fan of this song unless he managed to get her really drunk in the boiler room at the academy, or the rest of the team wanted to do it at karaoke. It was just another thing in the list of things they agreed to disagree about.
As he got even closer, he could hear one voice above the others, better quality and much more precise. Not that he’d tell her that. Last time he admitted she sounded good singing it, well, they made fun of each other, but then joined forces for karaoke and kicked everyone else's ass. According to Coulson that was mostly since May didn't do karaoke anymore, not in years, or else her and Coulson would win, but Fitz was rather skeptical of that. He couldn't imagine May singing and going all out at karaoke.
He opened the door, jug in hand, just in time to see Daisy, standing on one of the tables in the middle of the room, swinging a tankard around, and singing, with the rest of the room of various cultists following
“Dadadadatda!”
“Dadadadatda!”
“Da da da dun dittleun dittleun dittiladada!”
Right, fuck it.
And unclipped the tankard he sterilized off his belt, uncorked the jug, and filled it, before he recorked it and made his way to the center table daisy was on. He slugged back the drink as he walked over, getting some shocked looks from the less distracted and drunk members of her cult as he did, the rest of them stamping their feet and pounding the tables in time to keep up with Daisy creating a beat out of the air.
And right before Daisy started back up, he dove right into the song, as only a drunk Scot missing his girlfriend (fiance? Wife?) could (including the time-honored tradition of slightly changing the lyrics to fit).
“While I’m lonely, well I know I'm gonna be
I'm gonna be the man who's lonely without you!
And when I'm dreaming, well I know I'm gonna dream
I'm gonna dream about the time when I'll be with you!”
Daisy looked at him, surprised, before joining back in on the next part
“When I go out!”
“When I go out!”
“Well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the one that goes along with you.”
“And when I come Home,”
“When I go home!”
“Yes I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the one that gets back home to you!”
“I’m gonna be the one who's comin hoooooome, to you!”
Daisy and Fitz looked at each other, the slight differences in lyrics indicative of something neither could place, but both ignored to stay in the moment.
The pounding, stamping, and pulsing air grew in speed and volume as the whole room sang
“But I would walk 500 miles!
And I would walk 500 more!
Just to be the one who walks a thousand miles
To fall down at your door!”
The song lyrics finally seemed to be sinking into Daisy and Fitz, despite the boisterousness of the song, and both fell further into it, the call and response louder than ever before
“Dadadadatda!”
“Dadadadatda!”
“Dadadadatda!”
“Dadadadatda!”
“Da da da dun dittleun dittleun dittiladada!”
“Dadadadatda!”
“Dadadadatda!”
“Dadadadatda!”
“Dadadadatda!”
“Da da da dun dittleun dittleun dittiladada!”
“Dadadadatda!”
“Dadadadatda!”
“Dadadadatda!”
“Dadadadatda!”
“Da da da dun dittleun dittleun dittiladada!”
“But I would walk Five hunDred miles
And I would walk Five hunDred more
Just to be The one Who walks A thouSAnd miles
To fall DOwn at your Dooroooowooo!”
The rest of the room tapers off as Daisy taught them to, but this time, Fitz and Daisy went on for one more verse
“And I would Program five hundred Files!”
“And I would build five hundred Ports!”
“Just to be the-
-One who kills a thousand dead to sit down on your floor!”
-Man who rips a thousand holes in space to help collect spores!”
“Dadadadatda!”
“Dadadadatda!”
“Da da da dun dittleun dittleun dittiladada!”
Fitz had tears running down his cheeks, a mix of joy, sadness, nostalgia, homesickness, and other emotions he couldn't place swirled through him as Daisy's cult cheered and whooped and clapped their hands and the tables while they looked at him like they’d never seen him before.
He meanwhile, looked at Daisy, who was also crying. He had forgotten how good she was. He had forgotten how good it was to stand with her.
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It had been a Long day of assemblages and meetings for Sansa, and she was looking forward to getting back to her rooms and spending some time with Daisy. Her wife! She still had no idea how she was found deserving of such a being, a person, loving her, enough to forsake her godly family name no less, but she was thankful every moment of every day for it. For her.
She entered her room to find Daisy sat on the floor, looking at the strange outfit she’d arrived in, with faintly visible dried tear tracks on her face.
“Daisy, are you alright?”
She looked up. And well, that was not a face she could just stand there and look at and not do anything about, so she sat down on the floor, shoulder to shoulder with her love.
“Another of our floor conversations is to be had then?” Sansa said, in a mix of soft care and amusement
“I desperately miss computers, programming, and hacking. It was always something I was good at and I miss it for so many reasons. There are a lot of books I wish you had here, fiction mostly. So much music I wish you had here, though I’m happy to be able to at least bring some of it to you. I never ate very well before SHIELD, even in SHIELD it was mostly MREs and preprepped things aside from the occasional red vine or grilled cheese, though ever since we found those yellow tomatoes in the back, we’ve been figuring out pizza, so there aren't many foods I miss, though I’d Kill for clean running water or some Coffee.”
Sansa wondered where she was going with this. They'd discussed her homesickness before, not recently, so it's possible it's come back, but it felt like Daisy was trying to say something, so she let her wife continue.
“But you know what I haven't really felt any loss or homesickness over in months? My team. I said I miss them so badly it aches, and that's true. But that's BEEN true, for years when I think about it. It's just being here that has made me feel it more. Them as they were when I left? I don't think about it. About them. Oh sure, I miss Coulson, and May, but Coulson, He’s been gone. And May might not be coming back. But the rest? Until today, I hadn't thought about games with Mack, or hanging out in the lab watching Jemma do some sciencey thing I don't really understand, or her chiding me about keeping in medical so I can heal fully. I haven't once thought about Elena, or Joey, or any of them. How messed up is that? I called these people family for years, longer than anywhere else. They saved my life, I’ve saved theirs, I hurt them, they hurt me. We saved the world together. But I haven't felt any absence of them in months. At least, no more than I’ve been feeling since everything with Lincoln, and then Hive. I don't feel any actual difference from a year ago when I was still in space with Simmons. I just finally noticed it. How shitty am I, I don't even miss my family now that I’ve finally had one for a while?”
Frankly, Sansa couldn't remember the last time she had heard such a load of nonsense. From all the stories Daisy had told her, these people stopped being her family over the past couple years, maybe even longer. And just based on how Fitz treats her, and what she’s afraid of everyone thinking any time she does something? They don't deserve her. Let alone what Daisy's told her that led Sansa to think they haven't for a long time. But that's not something she could say to her, at least, not right now. So she asked a question she’d been wanting to ask for a while now that might hint to an answer, for each of them.
“Daisy, why did you take my name, and let me cloak you?”
Her wife looked up, confused at the change in topic, eyes red and teary.
“What do you mean? You wanted me to.”
The fact that the answer was initially as simple as that, for such an important decision, continues to nail down how lucky I was and how wonderful Daisy is.
But there was more to it than that, Sansa was sure of it.
“Yes, but if you’d had any reasons not to, you’d have mentioned them, or discussed. You had to have thoughts about it?”
“Ok, yes. I think, as much as I love you, sometimes you don't really understand what growing up like I did means. I didn't really have a family name growing up. I wanted one, because it meant I’d have a place I belonged, but with each foster family, they didn't let me use their last name. I wasn't with them long enough to. There was one family, the Galversons, I wrote “Love, Skye Galverson” on a card to one of them once, and I was out a week later. When my dad showed up, he was a murderous psychopath. Which I know is rich, coming from me, but, anyway, he was terrible, and just out to hurt people. Except he wasn't, as it turned out. He and my mother loved me. They'd been looking for me, they wanted me. And suddenly I had a last name. And a first name, one my actual parents who wanted me picked. So even though it didn't work out, even though my mother tried to kill me, and my dad was forced to forget me, and forget her, and forget saving me by killing her. Forget our family. It was finally a name that was proof someone wanted me. That I had a family, a real family, even if only for a short time. Of course I took it. And hoped I could one day be the person I would have been had I gotten to be “Daisy Louise Johnson” the whole time.”
I didn't know what to say to any of that. The idea of not having my siblings, or parents, I couldn't imagine the loneliness.
Daisy continued
“But Johnson doesn't really mean anything here. Family names here, as far as you explained and I read, are about bringing esteem to the family, tracing lines, legacy, all sorts of things. I’m just me here. I don't get or give any power to anyone else or take away from anyone by having “Johnson” as a last name. Everything I am here is because of what I’ve done, and even more, what you’ve done. And even if I did, it’d never be worth you no longer being a Stark. I’ve heard and read the way people here talk about your family. “There must always be a Stark in Winterfell.” “Starks are the true heirs to the north.” “Queen Sansa is a Stark of old, and we are all better for it.” And having known you, known Jon, and Rickon, and Arya, I don't disagree. It’s important to your rule, to your people, that you be a Stark. More than that, it’s important to you. I know the way people were talking about you after I arrived, and what you told me. You were trying to prove you were northern, that you are a Stark, not a Lannister, or a Bolton. You are the child of your parents, sibling to Jon, and Arya, and Rickon, and even Bran. And you are true heir to that legacy.”
Daisy paused for a moment
“And…, being a Stark means something to me. Sure, Johnson meant there were people out there that were kind of my family that wanted me, but Stark means I’m yours. That you want me, as long as you can have me here. That Arya is my sister-in-law, and Jon is my Brother-in-law, as is Rickon. That I’m a part of something, wanted, that…”
She trailed off again, and looked at Sansa, who looked back at her, softly, and with love, before she continued the thought Daisy had started to voice but couldn't.
“That we are your family. And we want you to be. You're pack. That's why you don't miss your family Daisy, we’re right here. With you. And we want you with us as long as you want to be, as long as you can be. With me.”
They kissed, and before they each pulled away, Sansa wiped a fresh tear from her wife’s face, and Daisy did the same, before saying
“I… I wish I could stay. Not just for you, although you're certainly the biggest reason, but Jon, and Arya, and Rickon, and the Order, and- I want to, more than anything. But they need me. I have a responsibility to SHIELD. To the team. I can't leave them again.”
“I know.”
Privately, in her own thoughts, well if Sansa wished she could tell Daisy’s SHIELD team to go to the fires for treating her the way they treated her and still taking her away, well, she would. For now, all she could do was be here for her wife, and spend whatever time they could together. Enjoy whatever brief happiness she’d been gifted, that she would be ever-grateful to have had. Even if it didn't last.