Hail HYDRA | Skyeward

Episode 14: Watchdogs

***

The sun had just started to rise when Joey Gutierrez stepped onto his balcony, pulling his hoodie tighter around his shoulders. He looked down at his hands—steady, calm.

No warping. No loss of control.

Good.

Daisy had taught him that trick: steady breathing, focus, center the metal, don't let the metal center you.

He trusted her. And Grant.

They were his people. His real team.

Joey turned back into the apartment, locking the door. He didn't notice the shadows shift behind him until it was too late.

A sharp click—an ICER.

May stepped out of the corner, calm as ever, weapon trained on him.

"Joey Gutierrez," she said coolly. "Don't move."

Joey's hands shot up, palms out. "Whoa, whoa—hey!"

His eyes narrowed when he recognized her face from the files Daisy had shown him. Melinda May. SHIELD. The Cavalry.

Not a friend.

"Wait, you—" His breath hitched. "You're SHIELD."

May didn't flinch. "That's right."

"I'm not going with you." His heart raced, but his voice stayed firm. "I've got people. I've got protection."

"We know who you've been working with," May said, her voice low. "Daisy Johnson. Grant Ward."

Joey's jaw tightened.

"You're not safe with them," she added.

"Maybe I don't need you to tell me who's safe."

"Joey—"

"I'm not one of your strays," he snapped, cutting her off. "I'm not like the others. I made a choice."

His pulse pounded in his ears. He could liquify the gun in her hand if he wanted to. He could sink the metal into the floor.

But Daisy had told him not to escalate. Don't use powers unless you have to. Never first.

That rule still stuck.

May's finger didn't move from the trigger. Her eyes were cool, assessing.

"Sorry, kid," she said softly.

And before Joey could react, she fired.

The ICER dart struck his shoulder.

His vision blurred, knees buckling as the tranquilizer took hold. His last thought before he hit the ground was simple, clear:

Daisy's gonna be pissed.

***

The world came back in pieces.

First, the cold hum of artificial air. Then the ache in his shoulder where the ICER dart had hit. Finally, the soft vibration under his back—the low-level hum of containment tech.

Joey blinked awake.

His eyes adjusted to the familiar curved walls of a SHIELD containment module, sterile and silver-gray.

He groaned softly, rubbing his temple. "Déjà vu," he muttered, voice hoarse. "Haven't we done this before?"

His reflection in the glass looked tired but steady.

Last time he'd woken up in a pod like this, Daisy and Grant had pulled him out of an ATCU chase, promising him safety, promising him he wasn't some lab rat to be studied.