#daisybecomesquake

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         It had been a little over a YEAR since he’d been locked in the vault at the Playground. He remembered hearing the ruckus when Coulson’s team had come there again, though this time to seek SHELTER from HYDRA. He wished he could have been there for them, HELPING them. But, all he could do was sit in his cell and WAIT. He gave Coulson all the intel that he could, going over it again and again and again. And now, it seemed his cooperation had FINALLY paid off.

         On a probationary release, Ward shaved off the beard that had been growing and got himself dressed. He wasn’t sure just how WELL the rest of the team was going to take his being let OUTagain. Coulson trusted him enough to let him out, but that didn’t mean he was FORGIVEN.

         Stepping onto the Bus, Ward HESITATED, jaw flexing. Maybe this was a MISTAKE…

          He was tempted to go to Coulson and ask for a REASSIGNMENT. There was no way he could see this working. And that’s when he saw her and GUILT twinged in his stomach. Swallowing thickly, he steps forward and knocks lightly on the door to the bunk.

@daisybecomesquake 

“Where am I? Take me back to my team.”  

It was the same question he’d asked several times - to every person he came in contact with, and every time he got the same answer. “You’re safe. We’re here to help you. You’re team can’t do that for you right now.”  

It didn’t take him long to realize they were right. When he got angry, slammed his fist against the wall, and watched in horror as his arm shifted into rock and then crumbled upon impact. Before he had a chance to fully panic, someone was there to work him through it, and even helped him figure out how to regrow his arm, the shell of his previous hand still laying on the ground.  

It freaked him out enough to finally listen to what they had to say, and started to listen to their help. It wasn’t like he had a whole lot of choice. 

Until he started hearing whispers of a couple newcomers -- people who went through the mist the same way he did. One person that went through the mist like he did was odd for them, but three? That was unheard of, and a lot of people seemed... jealous. 

No matter how much he tried taking their help, he would never understand how any of them wanted these changes to happen. He barely recognized himself anymore, and he hated the way he felt, and was almost always in pain and he was starting to believe his transitioner telling him that wouldn’t last forever was a complete lie.  

He was on a walk when he finally got a glimpse of the other new comer, the one people were whispering at the most. The girl he was walking with was the one that pointed her out -- Jane, he thought her name was-- he was usually better at names, but his thoughts were kind of preoccupied lately. 

“Skye?” He questioned, squinting his eyes, his chest flooding with fear and relief all at the same time when he realized it was definitely her. “Skye!” He shouted, moving past Jane and running over to her, ignoring the way his legs felt like lead all of a sudden.  

The Morning After

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Benji stared at her for a moment, rather unsure of what to make of the scene in front of him. For starters, he had no idea who the hell she was and secondly, why on earth she was standing there, in his room, in front of a very broken bed.

Melinda raised an eyebrow, shaking her head at the younger woman. Still she couldn’t help the way her gaze drifted down slightly to the tiny kitten, nor the way her expression became less hard at the sight of him. Despite what a lot of people thought, she wasn’t heartless. But she did have a reputation that she wasn’t in a hurry to shake off, and so she kept her face blank as she lifted her eyes to Daisy, not failing to notice the hope on the girl’s face.

@daisybecomesquake

Bucky wasn’t looking for trouble that night. He was setting surveillance devices on buildings surrounding his apartment. Well, he had been. Now he was sitting on the rooftop of a five story Victorian tenement that was very like his own building, but nicer, and eating a pastrami sandwich.

He wasn’t looking for trouble, but when five guys chased another guy into the blind alley below him and attacked, he reacted with a lack of thought that was unusual for him. There was something about the situation that felt really familiar, even if he didn’t remember why.

Jumping off the roof, he swung off fire escapes on the way down to slow his decent, vaulting off the last to put himself between the thugs and their victim.

His instincts told him to kill them. That a dead enemy was one that wasn’t going to come back for another try, but there was a competing instinct that had emerged--one that told him that he shouldn’t kill people unless he had to. He was listening to that for the most part. 

When it wasn’t Hydra.

This wasn’t Hydra. It was morons. He could tell the difference. Grabbing one with his metal arm, he threw the guy into one of the ally’s brick walls, while kicking another in the stomach and back twenty five feet. As the one going into the wall left his metal hand (currently covered by a glove and long sleeves), he made a fist and punched a third in the head, knocking him out.

@daisybecomesquake