X marks the spot

A Life Earned

Simon was a man of age, obviously. Coulson had guessed he was pretty close to his own age bracket. Still, the man could see the person from this time was feeling the effects. He'd strain somethings, curse under his breath as he picked up something he had to crouch for. Coulson himself could feel that sometimes.

"Here," Simon said, helping Coulson rerwrap his bandage on his hand.

"Thanks," he said.

Simon nodded, "need you in tip top shape for your kids, right?" Coulson rolled his eyes at the tease.

"Very funny."

"I'm a charmer," Simon gave him a pat on the arm, "besides, sooner we get you home, sooner I can live a peaceful life and you can...do your thing..." he said jokingly, but he then drifted off and did not finish his sentence. Before Coulson could ask him what he was going to finish with - seeing his eyes go haunted as he looked to the ground and away from the man, even losing his smile - he had gone back to work.

Coulson watched him go, before looking at the newcomer: May.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her.

"They shut down all the Trawler flights. No idea why," she reported, blending in with the work. Or, rather, she'd like to of called it blending. It wasn't, it was just doing the work.

"So now they even have the pilots working as crushers, I guess," May gave him a side eye at his terminology, "it's a little slang I picked up here. Simon's written some in Aaron's book. Helped me learn some of it. 'Crusher' it's when you –"

"Phil. I get 'Crusher,'" it was an easy one, to be fair. Same as 'blues.'

The two friends shared a smile at the banter.

"Anything on Daisy?" She asked. Simon came back over with a box, putting it on the floor. He was listening. He was in this, that much they knew. Still, Coulson looked at the aged man again. There was more to him. There was a story there.

"Nothing," he said, moving on from that introspection and back to the loss of their daughter figure. But, he saw in May's eyes that she too held that - not exactly suspicion - but the idea that there was more to Simon no-last-name.

"Just when we have a chance of getting answers on the surface, two of our people go missing," he finished his thought.

Mack brought another box. Simon moved a bit. Mack looked to the box on the floor, and helped the man, gaining a nod as thanks and giving one back.

"Anything?" Coulson asked. As easy as it seemed at times to just get lost in the nihilism of this place and the situation - that, and have an actual plan - they had a time limit. They had a goal, now they just needed a plan.

"Been checking with the guys working the docking bays to see if maybe Daisy hopped a ship to move between levels, but I don't know."

"I assume she didn't," May said. Simon slowed a bit in his actions at her words. his eyes went from focused on the task, to away from his object and to cloudy instead.

"Is it time to panic yet?" Mack asked.

"Possibly," Elena said, coming to the apparent strategy table, "I've covered every inch of this floor. No sign of Daisy."

"I don't like this. She could be captured. She could –" Mack's Metric went off, cuttting off Coulson's words. Mack grunted in pain.

They all turned to see Grill, doing his usual, "you're not here to stand around and gossip," he said.

"We were all talking. Why me?"

"I could think of a reason," Simon said, eyes hardened and filled with hate as he looked to Grill.