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I hate it.
That was Daisy’s first thought when she woke up.
Everything was too loud, and she hated it.
Still kept safely isolated, she watched as FitzSimmons worked in the lab beside her, wincing at the sound of keys clicking on keyboards.
Her brain hurt.
The frequencies were overbearing, and it seemed impossible to adjust.
Would she ever be able to quiet the noise?
Control her powers?
Growing more distressed, Daisy clamped her eyes shut once again, wishing with everything in her to go back to sleep.
Maybe forever.
The metal instruments on the table beside her shook slightly as a tear escaped her eyes and rolled down her cold cheek.
She jolted upright.
It was still scary to catch herself causing a quake; no matter how small.
Don’t get upset, Daisy willed herself, it only gets worse when you get upset.
But she couldn't.
The lack of control was driving her mad: tears cascaded from her eyes as she reached for the lone scalpel that Simmons must have left by mistake. They all knew somewhat of her rough past, and there was no chance that nobody had noticed some of the scars while she had been unconscious, especially not with the way they all tip-toed around her now, as if she would shatter at any second.
The tremors grew slightly stronger as her hand shook with the blade, knocking a beaker over and finally alerting the others to Daisy.
Fitz looked first, and reacted immediately.
Rushing into the isolation pod, to hell with the rules, he thought. There was no way he was going to stand there and let his friend do that to herself. Not today, not ever. He cared for Daisy like a sister, and if he was scared of her powers, he could almost be certain that she was ten times that.
Noticing his movement, Jemma turned round.
“Fitz!” she yelled, “Daisy could be da…”
The words died on her lips as she noticed the rusted metal in her friend’s hand.
Jemma had seen the scars, feeling sad but not totally shocked on initial discovery. They had seemed fairly old at the time, but now, she wasn't so sure.
Springing into action, she too rushed into the isolation pod, desperate to stop the girl she thought of as a sister from doing this to herself. Again.
Daisy stared at the sharp edge for a few seconds, before gently sinking it into her skin. She sighed as another tear slid down her face, focusing on the pain and basking in it, grateful to feel something other than powerless.
Fitz stopped in his tracks, eyes growing wide and glassy as he watched the scene unfold.
He didn’t know what to say. What to do.
Jemma knew she had to try.
Approaching slowly, she spoke softly and calmly.
“Daisy, Daisy hey. I’m going to need you to put that down. Please.” Her voice cracked slightly. “I know you feel out of control, and you're scared, but doing.. that to yourself isn’t going to help. We can help you.”
Daisy’s eyes creaked open.
“I- I can't. It's all too much.” She cried.
“I know it is.” Jemma empathised, tears beginning to spill down her cheeks too. “But you can do this. You’re the strongest person I know.”
After contemplating for a few agonising moments, Daisy dropped the blade, it clattering to the floor quickly.
Jemma immediately rushed towards her friend as Daisy collapsed forward, catching her before she hit the floor.
She wrapped her arms round the shaking and sobbing woman in front of her, biting back tears as she stroked her hand through her hair.
Fitz grabbed some gauze, joining the pair’s hug as he applied pressure to Daisy’s small wound.
“I’m sorry.” the woman whispered to Jemma after a while. “I love you.”
“I know.” Jemma whispered back as she pulled Daisy closer and rested her chin on her head. “I love you too. So much.”