"Coulson, what's the rush?" Daisy is standing in the doorway of her bedroom on the Zephyr, her hair wild and her eyes sleepy. "Some people are trying to sleep, you know."

Coulson, who is already dressed in a suit (how does he do that?!) raises a sceptical eyebrow in Daisy's direction. "We touch down today," he reminds her pointedly. "Everyone helps out."

Daisy groans and runs a hand through her tangled hair. Clean-up day on the Zephyr is a legendary affair, lasting from breakfast until the moment the plane reaches the ground. It usually involves moving very heavy boxes and forcing Fitz and YoYo to squeeze into small corners to dust while everyone tries to do as little work as possible. "We'll be out in a minute."

"Don't bother," says Coulson, a smile touching his lips. "Everyone else is in pyjamas. Come on."

"They're out already?!" Daisy exclaims, huffing when Coulson nods. "What time is it?"

"Eleven. We've already had breakfast."

Daisy heaves another long, dramatic sigh and pokes her head into the room. "Robbie? We need to go. Clean-up."

A muffled voice comes from inside. "What, already?"

"I'm having déjà vu," Daisy quips, and motions for him to come out. "Come on, I'll explain on the way." She pauses, then asks plaintively, "Coulson, is there any breakfast left for us?"

"I'll see if there's something I can rustle up," says the director with his signature smile, that pin-straight mouth and twinkling eyes. Daisy makes a face.

"You sound like you're seventy," she tells him seriously as Robbie joins them at the door. He wordlessly hands her a hair tie and she kisses his cheek. "Morning, babe."

Robbie and Coulson exchange fond looks of amusement at Daisy's antics as she sweeps her hair into a low bun at the nape of her neck. "Are we ready?" asks Robbie. "I'd prefer not to get stuck with Fitzsimmons again."

The trio begins their trek through the Zephyr's living quarters and towards the common room. "What's wrong with Fitzsimmons?" asks Coulson. "They're usually quite efficient."

Robbie rolls his eyes fleetingly, more incredulous than annoyed. "Jemma asked me if it hurts when my neck catches on fire." Daisy stifles a laugh and Robbie throws his hands up helplessly. "I mean, what was I supposed to say?"

"That doesn't sound too bad," says Daisy, her lips twitching into a smile as she tries to keep a neutral face.

"That was just the beginning," Robbie complains with no malice. "She wants to purposefully bring out the Rider in order to study the marks on the skull. I didn't even know there were marks."

Daisy is aggressively fighting back her giggles as Coulson says, "There are marks, actually. You should find a mirror when you have the time."

"It sounds kind of dangerous to bring out the Rider on purpose," Daisy comments when she can manage it, though that sounds exactly like Jemma.

"Yeah, Fitz is still angry I broke his containment module," Robbie replies flatly, and Daisy bursts into hysterics. "And I'm not sure how Simmons is going to get past the fact that the Rider is constantly angry and also, on fire."

Daisy is fighting for breath at this point, though she manages, "You could ask nicely?"

"Pretty sure that's not going to work," grumbles Robbie, and then they enter the common room.

"Look who decided to show up!" YoYo calls teasingly, spreading her arms. "Any reason you were late, lovebirds?"

"YoYo!" Daisy scolds, laughing all the same.

"What?" asks the inhuman speedster with a devilish glint in her eye. "It is the reason we were late, right Mack?"

"YoYo." Mack is also fighting a smile that wins out in mere seconds as he wraps his arms around her and kisses the top of her forehead. YoYo grins.

"Nice pyjamas, Elena," says Robbie as he takes a seat on the couch, nodding towards her oversized AC/DC tee that probably didn't belong to her until this morning. YoYo and Robbie get along so well it's scary sometimes.

"You too," she replies. Robbie is wearing flannel pyjama pants and a cotton tee shirt that looks suspiciously similar to the one Daisy has on (mostly because Robbie has about five of them). "Very classy."

Now that the talk has turned to pyjamas, Simmons is blushing wildly and folding her arms over her middle, a motion that in no way escapes Daisy. "Oh my God." Daisy points to the reddening scientist with unrestrained glee. "Is that the shirt I got you for Christmas last year?"

"It's comfortable!" Simmons protests, covering her face with her hands and letting a glimpse of her tee – a pale pink thing with a chemistry related dick joke on the front – slip through. "Stop looking at me like that! Coulson, I told you I needed to change!"

"Also, I think it's funny," says Fitz in appreciation as he and Daisy swap a grin.

"Side note, where's May?" Daisy asks, glancing towards Coulson, who has been observing the action from the edge of the room. As though the words have summoned her, in walks the agent herself, dressed in full tactical gear and holding a cup of coffee.

"May has already finished her cleaning day assignment," she says smugly, prompting loud groans from the entire group. "Because I don't sleep until noon, you heathens."

"Ugh," says Fitz, sighing, "cleaning day, don't remind me."

"Did you really think we were getting out of that?" Robbie asks from next to Daisy, and Fitz (maturely) makes a face in the other man's direction.

Coulson clears his throat to get the team's attention and pulls up a document on his phone. "Everyone knows the drill; first to finish gets the prize, and no, May isn't part of this competition and yes, I already got her something better." There's a heavy pause as Coulson realises exactly what he said and his face turns red up to his ears. "You know what – I'll just read off the teams."

Daisy and Robbie are paired up with YoYo and Mack, an excitable group that makes everyone around a little nervous. They're tasked with the left wing – the personal wing, known on clean-up day as the Personal Vendetta wing. Anything left in the open, from condoms to your internet history, will indeed be found by the cleaning crew made up of immature agents. (Piper still hasn't recovered from the time Nathanson caught her Google search of "how to make your hot, intimidating commanding officer like you" and will vehemently deny it any time someone brings it up.)

Fitzsimmons, supervised by May, is put in control of cleaning up the labs. Jemma hates the in-flight science wing because "it's too cramped for proper experimentation, Fitz, I can't even stand to look at that mess of papers you have" but her cleaning is quick and completely immaculate.

The rest of the agents on the Zephyr are divvied up and the pyjama clad spies all grumble their way to their cleaning posts, prepared for an hour and a half of misery and trying to read labels in Coulson's chicken-scratch handwriting. This is cleaning day, after all, and the plane isn't going to organise itself.

And then the unheard-of, prayed-for interruption wails through the Zephyr's speakers only a half hour in. An urgent distress call, code red, coming from a SHIELD affiliate of the highest priority is pinging out to any plane in the area, armed with coordinates. Nothing else would activate the alarms as such, and Daisy – who is elbows deep in someone else's laundry – has to hold back a cheer at the oncoming catastrophe.

She has never been so thrilled at the prospect of a mission. Never. The underwear strewn all over Davis D. Davis's floor has a pretty big hand in that excitement.

Coulson's voice crackles over the intercom, booming throughout the Zephyr. "I know that you're all excited, but this is a code red," he says, voice stern. "You need to be in the common room of the Zephyr in ten minutes, full tactical gear. May will provide weapons. We're touching down as soon as possible – ETA is about twenty minutes from now. I'll debrief you and then send out a team to assess the situation." There is a short pause before Coulson continues, "And yes, you will continue cleaning when we get back. We are adults."

Then the PA clicks off and the Zephyr goes silent. The four agents exchange looks of poorly disguised elation. Robbie, the vigilante Ghost Rider himself, holding a bottle of Windex and a roll of paper towels, sighs with relief and says, "Oh, thank God."

The common room is filled with a jittery, excited energy when the agents reassemble, fiddling with straps on bulletproof vests and tying their shoes. Coulson and May survey the group like thirteen-year-old babysitters just put in charge of a squirming infant, exchanging glances that are part amusement and part fear. The agents' minds are still stuck on relief of getting out of cleaning, and have not quite transitioned to the seriousness of the mission.

Coulson clears his throat to gather the team's attention, clapping his hands together. "I've made contact with our allies on the ground," he says. "We're looking for a group of scientists who provided intel during the Darkhold crisis. It seems like a fanatic cult obsessed with the book has launched a series of attacks, and at least three are dead."

The air changes quickly, somber with all the intensity of a bucket of ice water. Coulson continues, "Daisy, we'll need you on the ground first to check if there are any other land mines. YoYo on recon. Mack, May, you'll be back up. And Robbie…" The director's voice falters and suddenly they are all remembering Robbie and the Darkhold and Hell. But Coulson has to make the hard call. "You're out first, too. Even if your knowledge of the book won't help, the Ghost Rider certainly will."

Robbie gives a curt nod and feels Daisy's hand slip into his as Coulson rambles on, giving assignments for the tech Fitzsimmons needs to bring and assembling the tactical team if they encounter any adversaries. When the Zephyr begins to tilt, Daisy stands, and the rest of the team follows suit.

It doesn't take long for the massive plane to reach the ground, and Daisy is the first onto the dirt terrain. She prepares to quake, then hesitates, reeling in response to the horrors in front of her. The scene is so gruesome she drops her arm in shock, stumbling a few steps backwards. Behind her, the rest of the team's reaction is the same.

There is a crater in front of a large, green barn and inside the hole is bodies. At least ten, fifteen, maybe more, are strewn throughout and aggressively dismembered. Daisy catches sight of a head with a gash across its face, shrapnel poking out of bulged eyes; when she turns her head away she notices the outstretched arm only inches away from her feet.

Daisy wants to throw up but instead takes a deep, shaking breath and sends a tremor through the ground. The bodies groan under the stress of it and blood spurts upwards in geysers from previously inactive bombs, signalling the mines' presence with dark red splatters.

"Okay," she says quietly, wishing that perhaps this was a normal cleaning day. "That should be it."

Daisy taps into her comms to contact Coulson, holding a finger to her ear and reporting, "It looks like there's been a massacre – at least fifteen dead. I'm not sure how many more. We're on our way in, but it would be helpful to have backup on standby." She nods to YoYo, who takes off and returns in the blink of an eye.

"Empty," YoYo says with no small degree of confusion, unruffled as ever after her brief excursion. "The bodies in the pit are the only people here."

Daisy frowns and May comes up on her shoulder, surveying the area with tired eyes. "Odd," she says. "There were multiple people alive when we received the call – maybe we should check the barn. It's possible some of our allies took cover before they were bombed."

Robbie, too, has emerged from the shadowy depths of the Zephyr's underbelly, his face twisted in disgust. "No," he cuts in, stepping out of the plane and kneeling by the arm Daisy had spotted earlier. "These aren't people. There's something wrong."

He puts a hand to his nose and flays open the skin of the arm with one gloved finger, prying until he hits what should be bone. "Look." Robbie beckons forward the rest of the group, revealing a complex set of wires and hardware beneath the android's exterior.

"LMDs," says May quietly, her voice hardening. "The rest of the dead must be androids too."

"But no one had that technology," Mack interrupts in alarm. "Aside from Radcliffe, and he was under SHIELD supervision the whole time."

"Radcliffe and AIDA," Daisy says mournfully. "Who knows where she implemented them."

May's face is stony with dread as she takes in the scene, this time with a whole new perspective. "These scientists," she says slowly, "they were old associates of Radcliffe. These were his stupid dreams for years – long before us, long before Hive. I knew we should have kept a better eye on him, I –"

"Hey," says Mack sternly. "Don't beat yourself up. What's done is done. You were unconscious for most of this anyway."

"Don't remind me," says May with an eye roll, and then she is returned to them as the woman they have come to know and love.

"Then why the distress call?" YoYo asks, extending a hand to help Robbie to his feet. "Why call at all, if they're just LMDs?"

"It's a trap," May says firmly, and holsters her gun. Everyone else looks to her with a combination of shock and alarm. "Urgent distress call from old buddies of Holden Radcliffe turns out to be a bunch of robots. There's no way it's anything but."

"Which means we're going straight in," Mack sighs, readying his shotgun-axe. "The rest of you have weapons, right?"

Robbie flexes his hands and Daisy holds up her pistol; Mack hands Elena a gun from the wall and surveys the group. "Most probably they're in the barn. Daisy, break down the door. We'll see what sort of threat is in there."

"Got it." The Inhuman nods and looks to May for the signal. Robbie fixes his jacket, and then – well, they're off.

The field is wide open, exposed, and the crater in its centre means that the SHIELD agents have to stick to the outskirts. They move quickly, just shy of running, with a spy's paranoia and eyes watching each other's backs. YoYo zooms off to make sure no one is sieging the barn, but the area remains painfully empty.

"Clear," she says with finality. May nods.

"Go on in."

Daisy sends a blast of earthquake towards the door, and the old wood splinters inwards. It smells like musty hay and damp animals, and the space is completely empty. Light is slanting through planks of wood and scattering patterns all over the ground. The team stands in the open doorway with a sense of foreboding as they scan the interior of the barn, but there's only… nothing.

"Coulson," May reports on the comms, "the place is empty. We're going in, try to scope it out. I have my camera on."

Mack raises his weapon as they creep inwards, a shudder going down his spine. "This feels wrong," he mumbles, eyes darting to the exit. "This whole place… it feels wrong."

That's when Robbie stumbles, clapping a hand onto May's shoulder to keep from falling. "Woah," she says urgently, helping him to his feet and looking him in the eyes, providing the needed support. "Reyes, what's wrong?"

Robbie grunts and pulls himself away from her with some effort, inhaling sharply. "I know what this place is," he manages. "The energy. It's from the other place. It wants me back."

Daisy has squeezed up in between Robbie and May, eyes wide. "The other place – Hell? Robbie, what's going on?"

"You need to leave," Robbie says in a low voice, his lips pulling back into the Rider's snarl. "Now."

May drags Daisy – literally drags her – towards the exit as the Ghost Rider explodes into being, stalking towards the walls with an outstretched hand. Robbie Reyes is gone.

"Go!" Daisy hears Mack yell, his body shielding YoYo as they run out into the open field. Suddenly, the pit of bodies is their better option. "Go!"

"Coulson," says May roughly as they reach the exit, "we have a bit of a situation."

The barn, filled with whatever quantum energy that had affected Robbie so, is consumed with flame. It laps at the mouldy wood and reeks as the smoke climbs higher, crackling with energy. Daisy's breath catches in her throat. For a moment she isn't sure if things can get worse.

Then the trees jump to life with a hundred – a thousand – identical people, armed and angry and… ignoring the SHIELD team altogether. Daisy gapes as the LMDs storm past her, stampeding into the barn as the whole thing begins to fall.

Robbie, shrouded in flame, rises from the ashes with fire in his hands. The army swarms him, wave after wave, and Daisy watches in horror as Robbie fights them off, hurling the androids into one another with deadly accuracy. "I have to help him –"

"Daisy, no –"

A quake strong enough to knock down nearby trees doesn't faze Robbie or the LMDs; Daisy shoots blast after blast with only limited success. Moments later she hears the ringing of gunshots from Mack and May and YoYo behind her, though all their combined weapons barely make a dent in the indestructible force of robots.

Fear rises in her chest as she fights harder, faster, with more ferocity than before. He has to make it out okay. The thought is a rising plea. He has to.

Then one of the LMDs catches Robbie on the side of the head and he goes down, hard. Daisy screams something unintelligible and Mack grabs her arm to stop her from launching herself into the frenzy, a battle rising to fever pitch.

When Robbie resurfaces, he is slung over the shoulder of one of the androids, who are disappearing into the trees. "No," Daisy whispers in horror, struggling in Mack's grip. "No, no, no – ROBBIE!"

Her vision goes white and is replaced by a cockpit, another man just barely grown up gone too soon. Daisy's voice shatters as she screams his name over and over, begging him to respond, to get up, to fight, please –

The androids disappear as quickly as they came. Mack rubs Daisy's shoulders as she sobs into his side, shuddering, ugly, heaves, and something inside her splinters. The clearing is as empty and quiet as it ever was.

Melinda May puts her arms around Daisy and kisses the top of her head and promises in a quiet voice packed with emotion, "We'll get him back."