Actions

Work Header

Bury Me

Summary:

A look into Daisy’s thoughts during, post, and years after Hive.

Notes:

title from The Kill-30 Seconds to Mars
warning that this one might be hard to read in parts, in a literal grammatical sense. tw in tags

Work Text:

It happens quickly suddenly all at once. It happens without warning. But when it happens it feels natural. At first it feels right. In the beginning it feels like complete overwhelming relief. At first. The pain is gone and the rush is driving everything. Everything snaps into place and she understands. For the first time it all makes sense. She can feel…She can feel all of it.

It’s beyond happiness and beyond pleasure and beyond excitement. It’s beyond everything. Every part of her body is lighter, calmer, settled. She stands taller and her thoughts are clear. Her senses are sharp, crystalized, but not overwhelming. They are stretching out and reaching every corner of the earth. Connecting her to everything.

She is not alone anymore. She is a part of something, truly a part of something now. This is the cure. This is the answer. This is what she has been searching for her whole life.

Daisy looks at his face (Ward’s face) and for the first time she feels good.

It is a fast decent. Everything is fast now. Fast plans lead to fact actions driven forward by fast thoughts. Thoughts and thoughts and thoughts. Where did all these thoughts come from? They make sense though. It all makes sense if she thinks about it if she follows the train of logic that connects her to him from his fingertips to her brain. It all makes sense it was logic it was all logic it made sense it did make sense.

She would follow him. She would follow him and unbury the device she would follow him and cave the man’s skull in she would follow him up up up to the top of a mountain where they would stand together looking down on the world that they would be masters of. She would do what he wanted that would make him happy which would keep her happy which was the only thing that mattered. She had a purpose this was her purpose this is what would fix everything. This is what would right all of the wrongs that have been haunting her for her entire life. And she just needed to get them to see it, to feel this too to understand all of these thoughts she has.

She has more thoughts than she knows what to do with but that is okay because she is right and these thoughts are right and they are hers they are. No they are she is having them so they must be and they make sense it doesn’t matter that it is different than it was before it doesn’t matter if she is thinking things she never thought before she is still her this is still her she is fine this is good. It is. She knows what she is saying she knows what she is feeling and she knows what she is thinking. And it’s better it’s better than no thoughts at all. It’s better it’s better it’s better.

What she feels is reality. What she feels is real it is it is the only thing that is real. They are all wrong. They don’t know what she knows they can’t feel what she feels if only they knew. If they felt what she felt then they would understand then they would listen. Then she could save them. She could save them.

(They can save me.)

She’s loosing it. Fitz gasps for air and Mack’s ribs crack. And she can’t stop she can’t stop. She can feel she’s losing the plot but she needs more of it more more more. She can’t go back can’t go back to pain can’t go back to weight and slow and loss loss loss. Why do they want to take this from her why can’t they let her have this why can’t they feel this with her? She can’t go back. Only up.

She’s losing it. Please. Please don’t let her lose this.

(Drain me. Drain me. Drain me.)

 


 

It happens instantly. Suddenly. All at once.

Daisy collapses.

Falls.

Down.

Down.

To the ground. A bed. The floor of a Quinjet. Falls.

She’s not dead. Why not? Doesn’t make sense. Least it’s familiar.

The words are gone. The thoughts. All that is left is the itching, scratching, scorching desire to go back. To feel like that again. And to hurt. To burn it all away. Until all that is left of her is fire. And pain.

(Take me back. Take me back. Take me back.)

 


 

The thoughts come back. As she looks around at the wreckage. Sits in her cage. Sits in her embarrassment. Sits in her shame. Shame not that she was not herself, but that her true self was revealed. She would have rather been sick and feel good than be okay. So what did that say about her? Everything was so completely out of her control. And what was wrong with her, for that to happen? What was so broken, inside of her, for her to feel that way?

And now they know. They have seen it. Seen her. The real her. She is exposed. So now what?

He ripped pieces of her out and tossed them in the trash like garbage. And he played with what was left. She doesn’t like what is left. Maybe she can break down what is left and bury the parts she doesn’t like. What would be left of her then? What part of her hasn’t been touched by him, him, it.

She wanted it back. She still does. Even though she knows better. Even though she knows she hurt people. Even though she knows she wasn’t in her right frame of mind. She wants it back.

She went back to it. Damn the consequences. There are consequence to hurting herself now. There never were before. But now, now if she hurts herself she hurts them too. And fuck them. Fuck them for putting that on her. She never wanted that. She never wanted them to care about her. She never wanted them to save her. She never wanted them to worry about her. She wants to fucking break. And fuck them for not letting her break on her own. She won’t take them down too.

Even in her own unreliable head she knows it’s all a lie.

(Break. Break. Break.)

 


 

Lincoln is gone. There is no going back. There is nothing left to break. She is already broken.

She can’t stay. She can’t do it. She can’t be around them, not like this. Not when she is leaking pain. Not when she is spreading darkness. She is poison. She can’t control herself. So she will leave. So that they can’t save her. So that she can’t hurt them. Not again. Never again.

(Don’t go back. Don’t go back. Don’t go back.)

 


 

It hits Daisy suddenly, but not quickly. Not without warning. She had just been ignoring the warnings over the past few days. Weeks, if she was being honest. When her and Daniel and Kora returned from space to the gray walls of the Lighthouse and she finally stopped moving and everything went still. She had plenty of warning. She knows herself well enough after all these years to know what’s happening when she starts to feel like this. But she ignores it. Tries to delay it just a little longer.

But it still hits suddenly. Nothing triggers it. There is no reason for it. (There are a hundred reasons for it that she doesn’t like to think about.) She woke up feeling like any other day. Started to go about her routine. And then it was lunch time and she was going to need to make something and for some reason, this was it. This was the threshold. She is just, tired. It is all too much. Instead of going to the kitchen, she goes to her bunk. It is empty and she is glad, or she would be, but she doesn’t seem to be feeling much of anything right now. She lies on the bed. This is a mistake.

She was thinking about something. Before. Before her brain stopped working. Before her body stopped moving. Before it all, slowed down. She isn’t thinking about anything anymore. She hears a feint high pitched tone playing in her head. She lies on the bed alone.

She hears footsteps. She can’t move. She closes her eyes. Pretends to be asleep. Daniel shuts the door quietly behind him. She hopes she can pass it off as a nap.

She doesn’t want him to see her like this. She is happy with him. So why can’t she just be happy with him? Why can’t that be enough?

She made a promise, never to hurt anyone like that again. To bury that part of herself. But she doesn’t know how long she can hide it. Maybe this will be it. This will be when he realizes that she is not who he thought she was. She is not strong. She is not a fighter. She is just, tired.

She can’t move. She doesn’t want to move. Has no motivation to do so. This is the hardest part. She could get up, if she wanted to. She wants to want to. She doesn’t. This is what she can not do. She can not want.

She stops trying. Just for a minute. She just needs a minute.

She lies on the bed. Wishes she was asleep.

She turns her head. Glances at the clock. She lost forty five minutes.

She is supposed to do something. When she gets like this. She is supposed to sit up. Stand. That’s it. That’s all she is supposed to do. To not think about anything beyond it. Just sit up.

She can’t. She can. She won’t.

It’s her fault. She could fight harder. It’s not her fault. She didn’t chose this.

She is tired.

She was thinking about something, before. Now she thinks about bruises on her arms. She thinks about scars. She thinks about control. She knows it is not an option. Not anymore. But it is an indulgence, thinking about it. Imagining it. How it would feel. How easy it would be. How precise she is now. Imagining feeling something, other than this hollow emptiness. She looks at the unblemished skin on her arms. She is not going to do it. She knows that. But she thinks about it.

Stop. Stop thinking. Just sit up.

Daisy blinks. Blinks again. And again. Squeezes her eyes shut and opens them. She sits up. Stands. Walks over to the dresser and leans on it. Looks into the mirror. She sighs.

The door opens again. She didn’t even hear the footsteps this time.

Daniel.

He walks over to her wordlessly and opens his arms. She collapses into them. Her tears soak his shirt.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers over and over again.

“I love you,” he says quietly without hesitation, answering each of her pleas with one of his own. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

(I’m sorry I love you I’m sorry I love you I’m sorry I love you)

(Let me love you Daisy let me love all of you let me love you)

 


 

It happens again, unexpectedly. It wasn’t supposed to happen again it was supposed to be over. He, it, was dead. Lincoln killed him. It wasn’t supposed to happen again. But it does.

She can feel it when it happens. It happens too quickly to stop it. Too quickly and then it is much too much too soon. She can’t she can’t she can’t it wasn’t supposed to happen again. But she knows what’s happening this time. She can feel it pulling her away from herself. She can feel as she becomes a spectator in her own body. This body is not her body these thoughts are not her thoughts her thoughts are slipping away she can feel it is all slipping away. Being replaced she is being replaced by something else something else something that she can’t control. How did she ever want this back she can’t control this she doesn’t want this.

But that’s not enough to stop it. Not enough to stop her. It wasn’t her. This isn’t her.

(So stop! If it’s not you then fucking stop! Control control control yourself.)

This isn’t her it’s not it’s not. But if she loses this when she loses this she has to go back back to the pain and the fall fall falling.

Daniel is there. He is there and he is looking at her, scared.

“Daisy,” he says desperately, “This isn’t you. You want to come back.”

(She does she does she does)

“Daisy. Look at yourself.”

She watches her arm go up. Feels the power leave her body. Sees as it hits him. As he collapses. As his bones start to snap. She can’t stop.

His hand goes to his hip. To his gun.

Everything is shaking around her. The walls are crumbling the floor is cracking. Nothing is right. She falls to her knees her hand on his chest.

“Please,” she begs him. “Take the shot.”

He looks at her with love in his eyes.  The gun trembles in his hand.

 

Daisy wakes up with a start.

She sits up in bed and looks around. Daniel is there, next to her. He blinks awake groggily.

“Daisy? You okay?”

Daisy shakes her head. She stares at him. Stares and stares. It was just a dream. Just a nightmare. Hive is gone. He can’t ever hurt her again. And Daniel is here. Daniel is here and she is not going to hurt him. He sits up straight and silently urges her to talk.

“I have to tell you about something.”

(Please don’t leave. Please don’t leave. Please don’t leave.)

 


 

It stops slowly, quietly, softly. At first she doesn’t even notice a difference, she just feels lighter. She feels, stable.

Daisy stands in his arms after. They are solid around her. She wipes her tears. And when Daisy pulls back, she finds, oddly, she doesn’t feel embarrassed, she doesn’t feel poisonous or dangerous. She just feels safe.

He holds her hands in his.

She clears her scratchy throat. “You know, running away, it’s kinda my thing. Being back, here, it’s not great.”

Daniel gives her a sad smile. “It’s okay if you need to leave. Just please, let me come with you. I’ll go anywhere.”

He would, she knows. He has proven that time and again.

“Thank you,” she says softly.

“For what?”

“For just,” Daisy pauses and takes a breath, “for loving me.”

And he smiles at her like she’s given him some kind of gift. “Thank you for letting me.”

 

Series this work belongs to: