When Daddy says not to touch him, Maizie -- who's fixing to do just that -- stops cold, clenching her hands like that will somehow keep her from moving any farther forward. All she's thought about on the trip over, when she wasn't worrying, is throwing her arms around Daddy and not letting go until she feels like she can breathe again.
Now that she stands in front of him, though, Maizie can see that would have been a bad idea. He just doesn't look right, and not only because his face is messed up. That gets less bad the longer she looks at it; Daddy's familiar features are still there underneath the bruises and injuries. But she hadn't been prepared to see him -- her big, strong Daddy -- looking like he went through hell and back. Just like that, Maizie suddenly understand why he wouldn't come home. The folks at the LBJ can't see their leader look like this. It doesn't really make it hurt and less, though, that knowledge.
All of this passes through Maizie's thoughts in less than a couple heartbeats. Then she swallows hard and drags out the best smile she can manage, not wanting to look too worried and make him feel worse.
"Hi, Daddy." Her accent slips out stronger than usual, since she's so busy holding everything else back. "Are they treating you nice here? Not --" Maizie stops, glancing at the member of the Hellhounds standing nearby. Daddy's guard? Probably a really bad idea to ask if he's being mistreated right in front of one of the raiders.
"I'm real glad to see you," she says, finally, at a loss. Even that isn't right, though. He didn't even want her here at all, but how could she stay away?