Okay! First story so here goes nothing! I hope you all like it! Please let me know how it was and if I made any mistakes so I can take care of them as soon as I can!

Thanks so much!

SimmonsButterflys


Disclaimer: I obviously don't own Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. or Lady Sif would be in every episode and FitzSimmons would have happened a lot sooner.


Everything was perfect.

Every little detail had been planned out carefully. There wasn't one thing that she hadn't thought through. Not one thing that she wasn't prepared for. Not a single consequence that she hadn't already thought up a solution for.

Or, so she had thought.

Now, suddenly, everything was out of control.

Why did it have to be her? Why did it have to be now?

She had finally learned to accept it, to stop fighting it. She had put down her weapons and she had been taken off guard.

That's what you get for accepting the truth.

Now, everything was a mess. Every little detail of her perfect life had been shattered.

Why?

That was the sound of her heart beat. She heard it all the time, she couldn't stop hearing it.

Why me?

Everything she had thought she was changed in a single moment. She had once thought that she was free. She had once hoped that she could forget.

The answer was never. She could never forget she could never be free; she could never be who she had longed to be.

Then she realized that it wasn't her plans, it wasn't her dreams, and it wasn't her expectations. It was her.

She had been the change.

She had changed.

The whole world seems to shake around her as she scrambles for a hold on something. Anything.

She grips the last thing that she ever dreamed of, the truth. The truth that burns, the truth that makes her bleed, the truth that scars and tears and the truth that kills.

Inside, she's died. Inside she's causing her own destruction. Nightmares plague her. Darkness haunts her. She's sinking in her own destruction. She falling, head over feet into the truth. Truth that she has to accept if she wants to sleep again, truth that if she accepts, she will never sleep again, the truth that she can't control, the truth that she can't fight. She's weak and can't stand any more. She wants to be free but she can't.

She just can't. There's a long list of the things she can't do anymore. She really doesn't know how to live with that long list stamped on her back and weighing her down.

She's lost and it's too late to be found, she's falling and it's too late to stand, she's crying and it's too late to dry the tears. She wishes she could tear everything that is against her to pieces without hurting everyone she loves.

But she can't

She feels like the world is against her. She goes crashing to the floor, finally giving in to it all.

And she sleeps.

She sleeps and sleeps. And she dreams. She dreams of all that she had planned and all that she will never do. All that she can't do.

Then there's the mark.

The mark is plastered to her mind. She feels like everyone in the world can see it. She tries to hide it but the more she tries the more the label seems to grow more visible. The mark she can never erase. The mark that haunts her darkest nightmares.

Her mark

The mark that will never wash off

The mark that she sees in the mirror every morning

The mark that is made up of only three little words

"On the Index"

She wants to cry, she wants to die, she wants it all to end…

But…

I can't.