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It’s been weeks of preparation and, if he’s being honest with himself, lots and lots of hesitation to get himself here. Back in Los Angeles, Alphonso Mackenzie is off-book, off-record, off-everything. The new director, whoever he is, can go fuck himself. He has a duty to his partner who has sacrificed and lost too damn much. He doesn’t need to think about the kind of man he’d be if he didn’t go after her. He already knows, and the answer is one he would never reconcile.
Of course, Coulson is aware of all this, which means May is aware, too. For all Mack knows, Coulson’s tailing him. Or he’s back at the base, or on mission, but if he knows Coulson at all, he’s a respectable distance away and May is tracking his cellphone. Coulson may or may not get involved; it really doesn’t matter, Mack supposes, but they don’t owe allegiance to the new guy. Not in any way that matters, at least.
They were a team once, a family, and he could never leave a member hanging this way.
He leaves the nondescript car, sans-S.H.I.E.L.D logo, blocks away. He keeps a brisk-for-him pace, long legs carrying him quickly through the dirty streets. He opted for his civilian clothing. This isn’t a mission.
His boots feel heavy on his feet and his brow is wet. He notices his heart racing more than usual and chalks it up to not noticing how fast he’s walking. His legs slow, strides becoming shorter, more normal, and he feels his heart beat pulse in his neck.
Curious.
As he walks, he thinks about the time Daisy came to his room late at night, eyes wide and hair frazzled. She’d had a nightmare about her parents. She didn’t talk much. She sat close to him on his bed and he held her. He wasn’t sure if that was the right move, but he knows now that it felt right at the time.
He crosses the street and thinks about Daisy holding back during a sparring session. “I don’t want to literally kill you,” she’d said, elbowing him in the side. He’d laughed then, motioning her forward, and only later realized it was a half-joke.
He sees her apartment down the long street and thinks about when she saw him in the med bay. His breath hitches as he remembers how her eyes welled and how he’d tried to comfort her, tell her that it wasn’t her fault. She wasn’t interested. He tried again anyway.
A few buildings away, Mack pauses and ducks behind the closest brick apartments. His hands sit at his hips, fingers grazing the ICER in his back pocket. His touch lingers there as he imagines why he’d need to use it. Daisy might attack once she opens her door. She might attack him anyway.
He swallows and removes it from his pants. He tucks it in a trash can where he can retrieve it later. He would do this right, today, or he’d come back another day. It was foolish to bring the ICER and he feels his cheeks redden, shame prickling at his mind.
She may not be home anyway. If she isn’t, he’ll wait patiently and in plain view.
Mack gathers himself and heads towards Daisy’s apartment. From surveillance, he knows roughly which apartment she lives in. He quietly opens the front door and takes gentle steps to her upstairs unit. He knocks on the door.
When she opens it, his heart shatters. She has dark circles and messy makeup, as if she hadn’t stopped to do anything for herself in days. She looks him up and down and with a sigh, steps aside to let him in.
“Is this official business, Agent Mackenzie?” she asks, not bothering to mask the exhaustion in her voice.
“It’s not,” he says. He’s awkward, arms hanging slightly bent at his sides, feet unsure. He wants to hug her, wants to hold her tightly, but stops himself. “I did surveil you but on my own time and I’m here by myself.”
She looks at him and gives quick little nods, mouth pursed, and shoulders back. He knows it’s an attempt at dredging some bravado, and he figures she knows he knows, but she keeps at it anyway. “I see,” she says. “How can I help you, Mack? I’m not going back. I thought I made that clear the last time.”
He cringes, remembering the last time the Director tried to bring her in. It was unfortunate he decided to send the team--her friends--after her. That day was so hectic and so new; they tried to work within the Director’s clear instruction but it ended poorly. Daisy had left in an amazing show of power.
“I know. I’m sorry.” And he is. Desperately. It was the wrong way to go about it but they were floundering and had no choice. At least, that’s how it seemed in the moment. How could Daisy not feel like a cornered animal? Afterwards, they all talked about how disgusting they felt. Of course she wasn’t there to hear it, but he sees this chance here with her, in person, as a way to try to rectify what happened.
“Daisy, we messed up. Things got crazy. There’s a new director and--”
“A what?” she gasps, then freezes. She clears her throat and smooths a wrinkle on her shirt that doesn’t exist. “Fine. Listen, Mack, I know you all wanted to bring me in. I’m sorry, too, but I can’t go back.”
Mack wipes his hands on his jeans, breathing deep to loosen his chest, trying to find the oxygen that’s quickly escaping him. Dammit, he feels his shoulders sag, and he looks away. He silently chides himself for getting his hopes up without realizing it. Should Daisy have collapsed in his arms at the sight of him? Burst into tears? Left silently with him? Never.
He actually hears her gulp and she turns away. “Wait--” he chokes out. He makes to grab for her hand and misses, fingers wrapping around her wrist. She simultaneously grimaces away from him and tries to push him away. Mack steps back, slightly shocked and instinctively giving her space.
He stops when he follows her hand down her forearm. Daisy is cradling a bruised arm with her other bruised arm. He barely touched her, he thinks. He barely touched his fingertips to her, yet she’s gingerly holding herself as if… as if her arms are broken.
Mack glances around the room quickly, surveying for her gauntlets and finding nothing at a glance. But no, she can’t have had her gauntlets. Why would she be so hurt if she’d had them? It’d been months since Daisy went missing and, in tracking her all this time, had seen the destruction she’d left behind.
He realizes, sharply, painfully, that Daisy has constantly pushed her body to fracturing, seemingly with little care. The amount of time it’s been since she’s been at home doesn’t come to Mack. He does know that it’s been too long.
He leaves her standing there as he turns to the kitchen and raids the cabinets.
“What are you doing?” she asks, staying planted in her spot.
He doesn’t answer. He keeps searching. Daisy isn’t a fool.
She huffs. “Maybe if you told me what you were looking for, I could help.”
“Found it,” he says, turning around with a box of sandwich bags. He opens her freezer and dumps ice into two bags, tears two paper towels off her roll, and guides her backwards onto her threadbare couch. He rests her arms on her legs and applies the towels first, then the ice. He holds her hands in his and makes gentle circles.
She sucks a breath in.
“Does this hurt?” he asks unnecessarily, working her wrists very slowly, barely bending them.
“Yes,” she hisses. “Please don’t lecture me. Healthcare is hard to come by.”
He releases her hands and wiggles her fingers one by one. He feels both completely focused, not wanting to her hurt her any more, yet heady, partly disbelieving he’s just sitting with her. The preparation stage of this had been so thorough he’d made himself nervous and he didn’t dare begin to take the situation for granted. He thinks this is good, or it could be. She’s not running or fighting, both of which would be worst case scenarios.
Mack notices Daisy is more relaxed. Her shoulders are forward, she’s leaning towards him, and she’s not as tense as she was. He laughs. “And the gauntlets?”
“Yeah, I don’t know. Maybe you heard, but I’ve been busy.” She laughs, too. Easy, like how it was before, and he feels a pang.
He knows that the RICE treatment won’t work for her, but he’s a fixer. Maybe if he keeps his hands busy enough, they’ll help something. And it keeps him closer to her, safe, where she’s not bolting at the first opportunity. Maybe if he stays like this, it’ll be easier for her to come back.
He leans back and looks her over. She’s not the now-infamous Quake in this moment. She’s just Daisy, his partner. They could’ve been back at the base playing video games or sorting laundry or sparring. How much he’s missed her comes into sharp focus. He’s feeling reckless.
“Come back with me, Tremors,” he says, the familiar pet name escaping before he can think about it. He sees the look in her eyes shift immediately and she takes a breath. “It’ll be fine, I promise,” he interrupts before she can protest. “We can work this out. This are different, yeah, but things are always changing around there. We need you.”
His eyes are pleading and he finds his hands have stopped working her muscles. Her hands are cupped in his as if he’s praying. Perhaps he is. It feels like he is.
She stares at him dead in the eye. Maybe it’s pity in her look, but he doesn’t give a damn. “You know I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” He’s smiling that easy smile of his, one that harkens back to her solitary confinement after Hive.
Daisy scoffs and stands up, letting her hands drop to her sides. It’s not the most hostile she could be. Far from it, actually. A good sign.
“Because, Mack! You know what I did and what I’ve done since then.” Her eyes are welling and Mack has to hold himself back from catching a tear. “Why are you here? I hurt you. I let everyone down in the worst way I probably could have. I was only supposed to gather intel. Did you know that’s why I joined S.H.I.E.L.D. in the first place? It was never supposed to be anything more and now everything is out of control and I have to fix it. I have to balance the scales.”
He steps forward and wraps his arms around her torso.
Reckless.
Why did he have to be so damn reckless today?
She leans into his chest, breathing deep.
“It’s not right. I’m not right.”
“Let me help you,” he says, voice reverberating into her ear. “I can help you.”
She looks up at him, resolute, but so is he. He hoped she wouldn’t be an unstoppable force this once because he sure as hell wouldn’t give up his spot as an unmovable object.
She whispers, “I can’t let you do that. I can’t let you leave S.H.I.E.L.D.”
His laugh comes gentle at first, gradually becoming a warm boom. He isn’t sure what he expected but figures this is possibly one of the best things she could have said and, damn, he hasn’t laughed like this in a while. “Good thing I’m not asking permission, then.”
Daisy hesitates, then cracks a small smile of her own. The room slides back into focus for Mack, his senses coming to life. She rests her hands on his chest. Her smile broadens, fingers splaying, and she reaches behind his neck and pulls him down for a kiss.
Heat spreads across Mack’s cheeks as he recovers from the surprise. He leans in gently and maybe he’s being too careful but it feels like a luxury he doesn’t want to let go for any reason. He grins, and grins harder when her lips echo the sentiment. The last time they kissed was months ago, before Hive. While it’s definitely thrilling, it’s familiar, too. Comfortable isn’t the right word but it’s something close.
Thank God.
She breaks the kiss first. There’s a bit of a light back in her eyes, he notices. It feels good. It feels right. She clears her throat and gestures around her apartment and his eyes scan the scattered papers and maps. “I’m sure you have a few questions,” she says. “What do you want to know?”
He takes her hands in his again, more confident than ever. “When can we start?”