Chapter Text
Cooper Union was a different world. Not just because it was in Manhattan; or because the campus buildings looked like giant chrome puzzles; or because the students were older, sharper, and more confident. It was different because Daisy earned her way there. She wasn’t just a lucky high school kid who wormed her way in college classes with a recommendation letter. Well, okay, she was that too – but she was also someone who had the talent to back it up. She held her own in every seminar. Her code spoke for itself.
Which was how she met Miles.
He was already a junior. He was a TA in the class she took at night, after her high school classes ended, and he was wry and brilliant. He challenged her in class once – tearing apart her design on a security model. But afterwards, he stayed behind to explain how he built his own. She could see the way his mind worked – fast and agile – like hers. Maybe even faster. It annoyed her.
She liked it.
She made an effort to go to his office hours. Then, it was late-night debugging marathons. Then, pizza and energy drinks at the library. Then, laughter and inside jokes. Then, a kiss.
She liked the way he didn’t talk down to her. She liked the way he said, “You’re scary smart” – like it was a compliment, not a warning.
But the first time she brought him home to Brooklyn, everything changed.
May cooked, which should have been a sign of peace. Phil was setting the table when Daisy walked in with Miles, holding two cans of fancy soda he insisted on bringing as a “host gift.”
May’s eyes flicked over him once, cool and unreadable.
“You’re Miles,” she said. It was not a question.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” he said, smiling as he offered her a hand.
May gripped his hand a little too tight.
They sat down to eat, but the mood was tense. Phil tried to smooth it over with small talk, asking about school and Miles’s interest in coding. Miles was polite. Charming, even.
But then May put down her fork and asked: “So. This Rising Tide group you’ve been working with. You think what they’re doing is right?”
Miles blinked. “Excuse me?”
Daisy froze. “Mom–”
“It’s a simple question,” May said, voice calm and surgical. “You’ve been linked to multiple breaches of protected networks, some of which were federal systems. You think that’s justice?”
“I… I think people deserve the truth,” Miles replied, sitting up straighter. “Governments hide behind encryption and ‘classified’ labels to protect their own power. Sometimes exposing that is the only way to force change.”
May tilted her head. “So you think breaking the law is justified if you believe in the cause.”
Daisy cut in, “Okay, can we not turn this into an interrogation? It’s dinner.”
May didn’t blink. “I just want to know who’s been influencing my daughter.”
The word ‘daughter’ landed like a stone on the table.
Miles sat back. “Maybe if people listened to the younger generation, we wouldn’t have to break anything.”
May gave a humorless smile. “Maybe if people thought five steps ahead, they wouldn’t confuse recklessness for revolution.”
Phil finally stepped in with a half-hearted joke, and the conversation limped along until dessert, but the damage was done. Miles left early. Daisy barely said goodbye.
Later, in the kitchen, Daisy leaned against the counter with her arms crossed tight across her chest while May washed the dishes. “Why did you do that?” she asked.
May set her jaw tight. “I didn’t tell you to stop seeing him.”
“Yeah, but you made it very clear you think he’s a criminal.”
“I think he’s impulsive. And I think you need to be careful. That’s not judgment. That’s concern.”
Daisy’s eyes burned. “I’m not a kid anymore.”
May’s hands stilled. “No,” she agreed quietly. “You’re not.”
Daisy’s eighteenth birthday came on a Friday. It was sunny and warm, for late April. Warm enough that she left the apartment for school that morning without her coat.
May decided to surprise her after class with her favorite burrito – a peace offering to smooth over what happened at dinner a few weeks ago. Then, she thought they could go on a drive just like they used to before Daisy’s college class took over all her time. For that night, Phil made a reservation at a new rooftop place Daisy kept hinting at for her birthday dinner.
It would be a perfect day, carved out just for Daisy.
But when May waited at the curb outside Roosevelt High with a takeout bag in her hand, Daisy wasn’t there.
She waited, carefully scanning the crowd of students streaming out for Daisy's face. Ten minutes passed. Twenty. No Daisy.
She called Daisy’s phone. Once. Twice. Both times went straight to voicemail.
She texted: where are you?
Then: everything ok?
Eventually she spotted FitzSimmons. Fitz looked like he was about to piss his pants before Jemma finally stammered out in a quiet voice, “She… she didn’t come to school today. I-I thought maybe you knew?”
The takeout bag crumpled in May’s tightening fist. She marched, fast and silent, back to her car.
Phil picked up on the second ring. “What’s wrong?”
“She didn’t go to school today, and she’s not answering her phone. I’m tracking her.”
At the precinct, it only took a few seconds for the dot to blink to life. It hovered accusingly near the Cooper Union campus. The triangulated address came back just as quickly: a dorm building.
She didn’t turn on the siren. But she did run three red lights.
The RA didn’t even try to stop her. Something about May’s badge, her voice, her expression – it cleared the way. She climbed the stairs two at a time and stopped outside the room she found under Miles’ name. The door was unlocked. She pushed it open…
… and there was Daisy: half-dressed, barefoot, standing by a cluttered desk and looking for something in a pile of clothes.
Miles was still in bed, shirtless.
Daisy turned and froze. “Mom…”
May didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t even move, but her glare simmered like a barely-contained fire. After a long and tense moment, she picked up Daisy’s shirt from the floor and all but threw it at her.
“Get. Dressed.”
The car ride home was silent.
Phil was already in the living room, a wrapped gift left on the coffee table in front of him. It was something he thought through and picked out weeks ago, for Daisy’s special birthday.
May didn’t say anything when they got home. She just kept walking straight to her and Phil’s room, and shut the door.
Daisy stood at the doorway awkwardly, her eyes wide and red, like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to come inside.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Phil sank back down into the couch with a deep sigh, rubbing a hand across his face. “Do you know how scared we were?”
“I wasn’t trying to–” Her voice cracked. “I just... I wanted to spend the day with him. I didn’t think… I mean, I thought I’d be back before…” Her words crumpled.
Phil didn’t yell. That almost made it worse.
“I didn’t mean to screw everything up,” she finally said, smaller.
He looked at her gently. “You knew what you were doing. And you knew we wouldn’t like it.”
Her mouth wobbled, but she didn’t try to defend it. “I just thought…” She wiped at her face. “I’m eighteen now. It’s not illegal or anything.”
“Daisy…” Phil sighed, his face pinched up in sadness. “You’re right. It’s not illegal. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t have consequences.”
Silence.
He patted the spot on the couch next to him. It took her a few seconds, but she came over and sat. She wasn’t curled up or retreating, but she was tense. It reminded him of how she used to be at the precinct when they first met – leaning against the side of May’s desk, watching him with a wary side-eye while pretending not to listen to his and May’s conversations.
Daisy looked down the hallway where May disappeared. “She hates me now, doesn’t she?”
Phil shook his head. “No. She’s just hurt. And scared.”
Daisy’s voice dropped. “She looked at me like I was someone she didn’t know.”
“That’s not what that was,” he said gently. “That was the look of someone who imagined every worst case scenario in the span of an hour.”
Daisy didn’t know what to say.
“You scared us,” Phil continued. “And you broke our trust. That’s not nothing.”
That landed, sharp and honest. Daisy wiped at her face again. “I’m really sorry. Really.”
Phil stayed quietly beside her for a moment before asking, “You remember when I first met you? At the precinct?”
Her head tilted toward him slightly.
“You stole my donut,” he reminded her.
She let out a huff of air that was almost a laugh. “It was chocolate. I had to.”
“You didn’t even ask.”
“You didn’t say no.”
Phil smiled. “No, I didn’t.”
Daisy didn’t reply but the quiet between them was warmer now.
“I remember watching you spin around in May’s chair like you owned the place,” he said. “Feet up on the desk, even though she already told you to take it off. Throwing around sarcasm like darts.”
She smiled faintly. “I was trying so hard to not get kicked out.”
“I could tell you were testing her,” Phil said. “But even then… it was obvious how much you wanted to stay.”
Daisy stared at her hands.
“And I remember May had to step out for just a minute, and you looked at me and said, ‘So... are you, like, her boyfriend or something?’”
Daisy laughed, startled. “I did not.”
“Oh, you did. And when I said I was just her friend, you said, ‘Good. You’re not cool enough for her.’” He grinned. “You were loyal since day one.”
Daisy’s face softened. “I didn’t think she’d actually let me stay. Keep me.”
“She didn’t think she would either,” Phil said. “But then you were... there. Every week. All the time. And she stopped trying to imagine her life without you in it. And then we built a home together. A family.”
Her chin wobbled. “And now I ruined it.”
“No, you didn’t.” He looked her straight in the eye. “You messed up. But we still love you, no matter what. That’s what family is. But you’re eighteen now Daisy. That means you need to think about how your choices affect other people. Especially the people who love you.”
Daisy nodded solemnly. He was right. Of course he was; he was always right. She hesitated for a moment, but then leaned sideways and rested her head tentatively against his shoulder. Not quite a hug, but not nothing.
Phil didn’t move – he just let her stay there.
After a long pause, she murmured, “Thanks, Dad.”
The word slipped out so lightly it almost got lost in the quiet.
Phil went very still.
Daisy stiffened – she didn’t mean to say it out loud. Her breath caught in her throat. She had thought about this moment so many times – late at night, in that quiet space between fear and belonging – wondering if it would ever feel right to say out loud. She had imagined the moment more times than she could count. But now that it had slipped out, soft and unguarded, her heart was hammering in her chest. She started to pull away, her face going red.
“S–sorry… I–I didn’t mean–”
Phil’s hand came to rest gently over hers. “Don’t take it back,” he said, voice low.
She looked at him. He was smiling that specific smile she only saw directed at herself and May – not a big or smug smile, just something quiet and warm. Like something had settled into place.
Daisy’s throat tightened. But she stayed there, her head relaxing against his shoulder. Her hand tucked under his, holding onto the word like it might break if they said it too loud.
After a while, Phil squeezed her hand gently. “You should go talk to her.”
The door was closed, but not locked.
Daisy stood in the hallway for a full two minutes, uncertain. The weight of her mistake hung heavy in her limbs. It was her birthday… and she felt like she ruined it.
She knocked, soft and tentative.
Inside, she was first met with silence.
Then, quietly: “Come in.”
Daisy pushed the door open slowly. May sat on the edge of the bed, her shoulders squared, her hands clasped between her knees. Her face was unreadable – not angry, not cold. Just… still.
But that stillness was worse than any fury.
Daisy hovered in the doorway, suddenly feeling like she was five years old again and not eighteen at all.
“Can I…?”
May nodded once.
Daisy stepped inside and slowly eased down on the bed next to May, leaving a small space between them.
“I’m sorry,” Daisy said quietly.
May didn’t answer right away. She stared ahead out the window, where the last of the afternoon sun was curling against the curtain. When she spoke, her voice was low and even.
“You scared me.”
“I know.”
“You didn’t just skip school. You didn’t just lie about where you were. You disappeared. On your birthday.”
Daisy swallowed. “I wasn’t thinking. I mean… I was, but I thought I’d be back before you guys got home from work.”
“That’s not okay.”
“I know.” Her voice cracked.
The room filled with silence again. Not a cruel one, but the hurt was palpable.
“Mom…” Daisy tried.
The word made May blink, as if breaking a trance. She turned towards Daisy, her eyes softening.
“I didn’t mean to betray your trust,” Daisy said honestly. “I wasn’t trying to rebel or make a statement or whatever. I just… I just wanted to do something that felt grown up. For me. With someone who–” She stopped, throat suddenly clenched.
May was quiet, waiting.
“It was my first time,” Daisy whispered finally after a long while. “Not… not like before. Not because he forced me. Because I wanted to.”
May closed her eyes for a moment.
“I thought it would feel… different,” Daisy continued. “Like maybe I’d feel powerful or in control. Or at least normal.” Her voice trembled. “But I didn’t. Not really. It was just a lot. And I couldn’t stop thinking that maybe I was wrong for thinking I could handle it.”
Her hands twisted in her lap, fingers curling tight. “I felt sick after. Not because of him – he didn’t hurt me. But… because I didn’t know if I did it for the right reasons. And maybe part of me just wanted to prove I could. That I was in control. That what happened before doesn’t still affect me.”
She looked at May, eyes wide and swimming. “But it does. Doesn’t it?”
May’s expression broke then, just a flicker. Her hand reached out, almost instinctively, and found Daisy’s. She held it tightly.
“Of course it does,” she said softly. “How could it not?”
Daisy dropped her head forward, hair falling into her face. “It’s so stupid. I thought I was past it.”
“No,” May said, squeezing her hand gently. “You thought you were ready. That’s not the same thing as forgetting. Or being fixed.”
Daisy looked up. “You think I’m broken?”
“No.” May’s voice was firm and steady. “I think you’ve been hurt. And you’re still trying to figure out how to heal.”
Daisy blinked fast, tears slipping down her cheeks. She didn’t try to stop them.
“I don’t want to disappoint you,” she said.
“You did,” May said quietly. “But that doesn’t mean I love you any less. It just means I know you can do better.”
Daisy nodded, biting her lip. “Do you hate me?”
May exhaled softly, her hand coming up to cup Daisy’s cheek. She brushed away a tear with her thumb.
“No. Never. I love you more than my own life, you know that.”
The words cracked something wide open inside Daisy. She broke then, fully. The tears came hard and unrestrained, pulled from somewhere deep and primal – years in the making. Years of hurt spilled out: all the guilt of making a mistake, all the fear that love would vanish the moment she did something wrong.
May said nothing. She just pulled Daisy in and held her close, one hand steady against the back of her head. She rocked the girl gently – the way she used to when Daisy first moved in – still trembling in her sleep, still waking from nightmares she wouldn’t talk about.
“You’re still learning,” May murmured into her ear. “That’s what this time is for. But you don’t have to do it alone. You never have to do it alone.”
Daisy clung to her, breath hitching. “I just want to be good.”
“You are good,” May said fiercely. “You are so good. But being good doesn’t mean you won’t mess up. It means you try again. Smarter. Safer.”
Daisy laughed weakly against her shoulder. “You sound like Phil.”
“Good. He’s right most of the time. Just don’t tell him I said that.”
They shared a soft chuckle.
Eventually, May pulled back just enough to look Daisy in the eye. “You’re grounded, by the way. And no computer time outside schoolwork.”
Daisy gave a snort-laugh through her tears. “Yeah. Fair.”
“But more than that – no more lies. If you’re seeing someone, I want to know. Not to control you. To protect you.”
Daisy nodded. “Okay.”
May finally smiled, small but real.
“I love you, Mom,” Daisy said softly.
May looked at the girl, all the steel and ice in her chest instantly melting away in that moment. She kissed the top of Daisy’s head.
“I love you too.”
The days after the “dorm incident” (as Phil diplomatically called it) were quiet. Not necessarily cold or tense, just… quieter than before. Lighter conversations, less eye contact, trust a little bit more measured.
Daisy didn’t complain about being grounded. She took the punishment without protest, and even suggested that May change the password on her laptop until finals were over. When May handed the computer back to her with limits firmly in place – only for schoolwork, and only outside her room – Daisy just nodded. No backtalk or passive-aggressive quips. She made the tea and coffee in the mornings, and picked up dinner on her way home when she could. She even started hanging out at the precinct again, helping with code reviews and server monitoring.
She was trying. May and Phil could clearly see it.
But then came the other part – the part May dreaded:
Daisy still saw Miles.
She didn’t lie about it. She was honest, almost painfully so, one night after dinner as Phil was washing the dishes and May was reviewing a case report at the kitchen table.
“I’m still gonna see him,” Daisy said, quietly but clearly.
Phil stilled at the sink, his hands dripping soapy water. May didn’t look up from her folder.
“You’re grounded,” she said evenly.
“I know. I’m not sneaking out. I’m not breaking any rules. I’m just telling you that I still want to see him.”
There was a beat of silence. Phil turned off the faucet and dried his hands slowly.
“He’s still involved with Rising Tide,” May said.
“I know,” Daisy replied. “But that’s not all he is. He’s smart. He’s principled. He really believes in what they’re doing.”
“That’s what concerns us,” Phil said.
“Rising Tide isn’t bad,” Daisy snapped. “They’re not terrorists. They’re whistleblowers. Hacktivists. They’re fighting for transparency and justice.”
“They’re fighting without accountability,” May countered coolly. “There’s a difference.”
“He’s not a bad person.”
“No one’s saying he is. But he's not the only person in the world who's brilliant and idealistic.”
Daisy’s face flushed. “You think I’m being stupid.”
“I think you’re being young,” May corrected. “Which is allowed. But it doesn’t mean we’re gonna pretend we think he’s someone he’s not.”
“I’m not asking you to like him.”
“Good,” Phil muttered. “Because we don’t.”
That stung. Daisy didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t argue back. But May could see the way her jaw set and the way she tried not to flinch. She didn’t storm off or slam her door, but she did go to her room early and she didn’t come back out.
That night, May stood outside her door for a long time before deciding not to knock.
Daisy didn’t see Miles as often after that, but she still saw him. One evening a week at her college class, sometimes two. She kept her phone visible when she was home. She checked in with May when she left the apartment. She did what she thought adults did – making choices and living with the consequences.
And to his credit, Miles wasn’t pressuring her. Daisy sat him down in the park one afternoon, feet tucked beneath her, for a candid conversation.
“I need to slow down,” she said. “I thought I could handle more. But… I’m not ready for that part of us yet. At least, not right now. Probably not for a while.”
Miles nodded, quiet and respectful. “Okay.”
“I still like being with you. I just need it to feel… safe. I need to be ready.”
He didn’t question it or push for an explanation or make her feel uncomfortable for setting boundaries. He kissed her lightly on the cheek instead of the lips when they said goodbye, and she went home feeling cautiously okay. The air felt different – lighter, somehow. Like she was rewriting her script. Choosing her own tempo, and finally believing she had the right to.
May saw the shift. Bit by bit, she saw how Daisy carried herself differently – posture a little more open, mood a little lighter. She didn’t say anything about it. She just watched, silently grateful to see her girl reclaiming power over a piece of herself that should’ve never been touched in the first place.
But she still didn’t like him.