Her Name Is Daisy (Agents of SHIELD, Static Quake)

Chapter 1 (OLD)

(This chapter is from the original story line and does not pertain to the events of the new story line. Once the new chapter is complete, this chapter will be replaced.)

The welcome sign was deceiving as hell.

Driving into Grant Psychiatric Ward, I realized that. The place looked happy, yet cold. Outside the grass was green and pops of color came with the spring flowers. The building, however - the building that I would be spending the next few months in, if not more - the building looked sterile, like some research facility you saw in the movies. It wasn't though; it was pretty much just an asylum.

I still wasn't exactly sure why I was here. I wasn't an alcoholic, I wasn't a drug addict. But when I said that to my friends, they didn't believe me. At first, I didn't know why. And then my boyfriend walked in.

There was a smile graced gently upon my lips as I put the final touches on the cake. I loved baking - always had. I was humming, too; it's hymn was unknown to anyone but my vocal chords. I heard someone clear their throat behind me. Turning around, I saw Jemma.

My friend's usual joyful expression was turned sour and grim. The smile I wore fell, and as it did she came and wrapped her arms around me. "Jemma?" I asked. "Jemma, what's wrong?"

"Oh Daisy. Why couldn't you tell me?"

I drew away from her in confusion. "I don't understand Jemma. Tell you what?"

My friend had tears in her eyes. She fell back a little ways, leaning on the counter behind her. From the doorway, I saw others - Fitz and my mother and father. I became one of panic. I didn't know why they were all here, or what Jemma was talking about. "I don't get it. Why are you all here?"

My mother stepped forward, a bottle of pills in her hand. "You didn't tell us you had a drug problem, Daisy. Or why you were taking them."

My eyes went wide. The amount of emotions coursing over me were driving me into shock. "I have never seen those before. I don't do drugs, mother. What reason would I have?"

"Grant said you were dealing with depression. He said he found these hidden with a whole stash of others," said Fitz.

I turned to him, hostility in my eyes. "When have I ever looked like I was depressed? I'm happy; I always have been!" I turned to my father - Phil. "Dad, come on; help me out here."

His eyes grew sadder than they had been, if that was possible. Words came from the frown written across his face. "I don't know how to help you here. All the evidence says that you have a problem, Daisy. But we can get you help. We already have help."

From the tone of his voice I knew he wasn't talking about a shrink. Grant - my crazy boyfriend - appeared from an angle I hadn't been able to see him from. His lying eyes beheld me in a way that told me he was pretending that I was fragile - fragile, apparently, because I had supposedly been doing drugs and had been depressed. "Daisy, it's alright. We all know now. You don't have to hide from us."

"You're insane! I don't take drugs - I don't know where those came from. I'm not depressed; those are lies from Grant," I said.

The look on their faces told me that they didn't believe me.

At first, I just went to a shrink twice a week. Then four days. Then everyday except Sunday. Then everyday with a special appointment on Sunday. The more I denied any problems, the more days I went to Andrew Garner. And, eventually, it was decided that I should go to a 'special facility' to get back to my normal self.