Daisy Johnson Imagines

Ghost Rider (Part 2)

As requested, a part two! 

A loud pounding on your garage door make you jump so badly the pen flew out of your hand, rolling onto the book you used for accounting. The shop had been closed for hours and you were up way too late, so you wondered who it could be. Maybe it was someone with an urgent car breakdown.

Flipping the book closed and grabbing a wrench for safety -it was a bad neighborhood after all- you rolled the garage door up. To your surprise, it was the brunette woman, Daisy, from a couple days before. She looked absolutely miserable and in pain, although she tried to smile at the tool in your hand. 

''A wrench? Really?''

You raised your eyebrows. ''Dangerous people in this neighborhood.'' It was a silent jab to her, a question, if she fell in that category. 

Daisy smiled, genuinely this time, at your sarcasm. ''Yeah, because a wrench will do much.'' She tried crossing her arms, but they hurt too much to do so. Between the badly lit street behind her and the lack of light from within the garage, it was hard to see her face, but her eyes sparkled slightly.

You scoffed, almost offended. You were still waiting for a reason why she was there in the middle of the night. ''I know how to fight. When you grow up here, you kinda have to.'' 

''So you know how to treat injuries.''

Your eyes flickered to her arm, which she cradled with the other one. ''Daisy,'' you dragged out her name, shaking your head in disappointment. Frustrated, you turned around, expecting her to follow you. And she did.

Daisy was surprised, almost forgetting the pain as you slid the door closed again. ''You remembered.''

''Your name?'' you chuckled, leading her into your office where only the desk lamp provided some light. ''Yeah, kinda hard to forget the suicidal woman asking for the Ghost Rider.'' You stopped and gestured to your desk chair. ''Sit down.'' 

Brown eyes followed you around the office as you looked for the first aid kit. Luckily, you knew a thing or two about injuries and wounds. ''I'm not suicidal.''

''It sure looks like it.'' She looked away as you put the kit on the desk and opened it. To her surprise, you did not question her further. Nobody had shown her this kindness since she had left SHIELD. She was a complete stranger to you and somehow you let her in and even helped her, not knowing where she got the injuries. ''It's okay, you don't have to tell me, just show me what we're working with here.'' 

Daisy blinked to clear her head and slowly took off her jacket. You helped her get it off and stifled a gasp as she rolled up her sleeves. Her arms weren't just bruised, they were deep purple, fracture lines running up to above her elbow. 

Extremely gently, you picked up her arm and held it up. She still hissed at your touch. No doubt it was broken. ''How did this happen?'' You tried not to show the shock and surprise. She would hate it. ''Did somebody do this to you?'' The idea of a boyfriend or girlfriend mistreating her made your hands shake in anger.

Daisy was quick to shut those rumors down, watching as you bit your lip in frustration. You wore the same as you did last time, an overall with your name on it, hair in a messy bun. But this time there was no oil or grease on your skin. She could sense in her entire body you were trustworthy, it radiated off you. ''No, I did this to myself, actually.'' Your cool hands were nice on her hot skin as you handled her arm with care. ''I don't-''

''It's okay,'' you cut her off, finding her gaze again, ''you don't have to explain.''

Daisy pulled her arm back as you let it go, shaking her head. She needed someone to talk to. She was all alone out here. ''No, I want to. I need to.''