A/N: This was inspired by (and the title taken from) Bastille's song "Flaws". I wrote it before 2x05, but to my surprise, instead of being pre-episode it ended up being more like head-canon episode 5. And that episode... I'm still trying to sort out my emotions. Haha! Anyway, hope you like my little song-inspired fic :)
She was losing track of the days. Weeks passed in a blur of missions, both failures and successes; of rushed dinners or early mornings training or late nights spying. Every moment she had alone was filled with the backdrop of the symbols.
Always the symbols. She spent every free second she had, thinking about those symbols.
Coulson had been determined for the Obelisk.
Coulson had been determined for that painting.
Coulson had put her on research, told her to keep it to herself.
Coulson avoided her like she was death – though she was always given any new information he came across about the symbols. Any new writing. New photographs. New files. None of them leading anywhere. They circled themselves, and their existence was just as confusing as the writing itself.
If anyone were to see her quarters, they would probably raise an alarm of concern. Trip certainly would; he'd already suggested she take a few more breaks during her hunt. But she couldn't. She couldn't get away from this particular mystery. It haunted her more than the mystery of her parents.
She sat cross-legged on her floor, surrounded by open files and copies of photos strewn about. Her tablet lay nearby, the symbols streaming across the screen as she ran it through every program she could think of. Tracing paper lay scattered as well, covered in markings where she had found patterns and similarities in some of the markings. She didn't know what the patterns or similarities meant, though.
She had to figure this out. Coulson was counting on her.
And even if she couldn't count on him, anymore, she would make damn sure that he could still count on her.
... ... ...
After the briefing, everyone split to prepare for the next op. For once, Coulson hung around a little, and Skye brought up the screen with the symbols on her tablet.
"I've even got this running through some Rising Tide contacts, and there's been nothing – "
"I'm not concerned about that right now." Coulson interrupted her, in a tone of voice as if she'd been working on a color-by-number. She raised her eyebrow at him. "There are more important things – "
"More important things? You've had me on this for months! We've just started finding some leads; the Obelisk, the painting, and – "
"Our asset is in trouble, and I have reason to believe it's the same person who attempted to take May and I out over the painting. Our asset takes priority right now." Coulson said firmly. Skye folded her arms across her chest.
"Simmons. You mean Simmons." Skye said pointedly, and Coulson's jaw tightened. "We're the only ones in here, Coulson. The least you could do is dignify her with her name."
"May is going in alone on this one," Coulson said instead, speaking firmly, giving Skye a warning look. "I need you here, on the radio. Keep an eye on the schematic and guide May through."
"I know, I was at the briefing."
"Stop looking into the symbols."
"What?" Skye looked at him, downright appalled, by this point.
"I'm pulling you off of it,"
"I'm sure if we can get the Obelisk from Raina I could – "
"No." Coulson ordered, and Skye pinched her lips shut.
"You think I can't handle this?" She folded her arms across her chest again. Coulson folded his arms as well, and managed to look more angry doing it.
"That's not the point." He ground out. "I'm ordering you. Don't question – "
"You can't pull rank every time you don't feel like talking to me!"
"I can do exactly that!" Coulson yelled back. They stared at one another, both of them surprised that they'd allowed the argument to get this far. Without another comment, Coulson left the room, and Skye pursed her lips and set her tablet down on the holotable, clenching the edge of the table with her fingers.
"You okay?" Trip reappeared, giving her some distance. She breathed heavily through her nose a few times before answering him, pressing the monitor on her wrist.
109.
110.
111.
"Come get me when May is ready." Skye muttered to him, heading toward the gym. A good long run would get it out of her system.
... ... ...
Trip watched Skye leave, a perturbed frown on his face. He noticed that she had left her tablet open, and hearing footsteps behind him, he quickly moved to lock the screen.
He knew she was hiding it from the rest of the team. He wasn't sure why, but he would keep her secret for now.
"Was that Skye and Director Coulson?" Hunter wondered, looking after where Skye had disappeared. Trip nodded, leaning casually against the edge of the table.
"Yes… They've gotten into arguments before, but never that heated. Not lately, anyway."
"I don't think I've ever seen them exchange so many words. I thought they hated each other, honestly." Hunter shrugged, leaning against the doorway and shoving his hands into his pockets. Trip gave him an incredulous look.
"Hate? Heh," Trip shook his head. "No, they could never hate each other." Hunter raised his eyebrow.
"You seem certain of that. Something go on between the two of them?" He leaned forward in interest, and Trip shook his head.
"Not what you think. They've just been… on odd terms, lately. You know how he's been. Hiding from everyone."
"Yeah. And then he's started pulling us all into his office for meetings – all of us except her. Don't think I haven't noticed. Why do you think I thought he didn't like her? I always figured it was because she was Rising Tide. Sort of a," Hunter made a so-so gesture in the air, "loosely accepted member of the team; necessary but not always approved of. Like me."
"If anyone accepted her as a member of the team, Coulson did first. I wasn't even here in the beginning, and it was pretty obvious for me to see. You should have seen the look on his face when he gave her the SHIELD badge…" Trip smiled at the memory. He missed those days… well, parts of those days.
"Right, and the next day it all went to hell, yeah? She mentioned that."
"And now he's removed the whole 'Levels' idea," Trip pointed out, and Hunter looked thoughtful.
"To make her feel better?"
"Probably makes a lot of things easier," Trip replied, not exactly disagreeing, and Hunter nodded.
"So…" He stepped further into the room, "What was their argument about?"
"I don't know." Trip said truthfully, but Hunter looked as if he didn't fully believe him.
"What happened between them, for them to be like they are now?"
"I don't know the answer to that, either." Trip said, but it was obvious that he had an idea, at least.
... ... ...
Coulson shut and locked his office door behind him, pulling at his tie. He was warm, too warm, and his hand was shaking uncontrollably.
"This shouldn't be happening," He muttered, feeling sweaty, "Not yet," He stumbled, putting his hand out on his desk to steady himself. He took a deep breath in, and it was as unsteady as his hand.
"Koenig," He pushed a button on his desk phone, then peeled off his jacket, "cancel my meetings for the rest of the day." He didn't wait for a reply, and cut the phone off.
He barely managed to get his shoes untied and fumbled the knife out of the drawer, stumbling again as he moved toward the switch on the wall. Falling to his hands and knees, he pressed his fingers against the floor for a moment, and then flicked the knife open.
... ... ...
Once Skye successfully guided May back out of the building, she grabbed her tablet and disappeared for a while.
Mac saw her walk passed him onto the Bus, but he said nothing. She looked like she needed some space, and he knew that she sometimes liked to hang out in the old command room.
He continued whistling as he wiped some grease off of his hands, as if he had seen nothing.
Skye brought up the running program on the large screen, and opened all of the files she had across the holotable, spreading them out. She immediately organized them by date.
Coulson had told her that he was finding these files in the little black box that Fury had given him.
Skye was starting to have doubts about that.
She moved the files around again, this time organizing them by the date that she had acquired them. When she was finished, she stepped back from the table, staring down at it for a while.
There was a pattern there, too. A distinct pattern that had her covering her mouth with her hand before her brain fully acknowledged what she was thinking.
... ... ...
"Agent May, excellent work," Koenig greeted her in the hangar, and she nodded at him.
"Thank you. Coulson want a debriefing?" She guessed, and Koenig nodded, leading the way into the hall. They scanned their ID's, and Koenig glanced back to give her a particular look.
"He needs you in his office." Koenig informed her, and she watched him for a moment before affirming what he meant.
"Thank you, Koenig." She told him, passing him and moving quickly up the stairs.
She knocked on the door three times, and she had to do this twice before the door opened. When she saw his state, she hesitated only a moment before sliding into the room and shutting the door behind her.
"What happened?" She asked, concerned, helping him back to his chair. His dress shirt was rumpled, half untucked, the sleeves haphazardly rolled. The skin that was bare was covered in dust and sweat, and he looked exhausted.
He slumped into the chair and took a breath before gesturing toward her feet. May frowned and looked down, and then immediately took a step to the right, away from the markings on the floor.
"God, Coulson," She couldn't help but whisper. They were all over the floor; angry scratches that looked like they were done in a rush. She'd taken enough pictures to know that they were the same symbols, but they looked very different than the usual way he did them.
She was going to have to get a pretty large rug to cover them, until she could get the floor repaired.
"Your last episode was last night." May said, turning toward him. "I made sure so that nothing would happen while I was gone."
"There wasn't really any warning," He sounded tired, "I – we had the briefing, and then by the time I got to my office I almost – I almost didn't make it." He rubbed his hand across his face. "I barely managed to tell Koenig to cancel the rest of my day."
"What happened between the briefing and your episode?" May asked, frowning. She knew he was hiding something – something had to have set this off. Otherwise…
"I… was talking with Skye." He said, and she knew by his tone what that conversation had been about.
"The symbols. You were talking with her about the symbols. You know that's dangerous territory," May chided, "There's a reason we've kept those conversations to emails, only."
"I told her to stop looking into it."
"What." May stepped toward the desk, and Coulson closed his eyes.
"Please, May, my head…"
She backed down only slightly, and sat across from him, leaning forward.
"She can help you with this, Phil. I've told you – "
"She could also be triggered by this." Coulson ground out. "I will not let that happen. She can't be around me."
"Phil…"
"She's done great work, so far, but we can take it from here. The longer she's on it, the closer she's going to get to…" He took a breath, "To figuring out where all those drawings are really coming from."
"You need to let people in,"
"Not her. It's too dangerous for her." Coulson said firmly. He let out a heavy breath and sat up in his chair, fixing his sleeves and buttoning the cuffs.
"It's dangerous for you, Phil, right now. The more people on this, the faster we could figure out how to help – "
"We've been over this, May. It's too late for me." The finality in his tone made her blood run cold. "All I want is for – for the team to be safe."
May knew what he meant.
"Take a shower. I'll go get a rug for this." She stood up, giving him her blank look, and left the room.
Coulson sighed heavily and leaned back into his chair, propping his elbow on the armrest and covering his eyes with his hand.
... ... ...
Skye was working with the sniper rifle the next morning, and May was unusually warm toward her after they were finished.
"How are you?" She asked gently as Skye folded up the stand for the weapon. Skye glanced at her with mild surprise.
"I'm… good?"
A few moments went by in silence as Skye checked over the gun, making sure it was unloaded and the magazine was removed.
"Have you been sleeping well?" May asked, in that same tone of voice. This time, Skye turned toward her, propping the gun in her elbow.
"I'm fine, May." Skye wondered where this was coming from. She put the gun back in the cabinet and stretched her arm out.
"Don't stop searching." May told her seriously, suddenly, and Skye stopped what she was doing and stared at her.
"What?" Skye wasn't quite sure what May meant.
"The symbols." May shook her head, emphasizing her point, "don't stop searching." She gave Skye a serious look, more serious than usual. Skye continued to stare at her, partially concerned and mostly pissed off.
"What the hell is going on?" Skye wondered. "Coulson has me on this for months, and when we finally start getting somewhere he orders me off of it. And the first time he says more than five words to me, it immediately turns into an argument and the worst part is he looks guilty for talking to me." Skye rubbed her hands across her face, pushing away her hurt and pulling up the anger again. "Something is going on with him, May, and nothing you tell me is going to make me think otherwise." May blinked, her face softening just slightly.
"Skye,"
"We used to talk a lot, you know. About lots of things. About personal things. Now he doesn't even talk to me during briefings."
"Of course he does," May tried to calm her down.
"When he has to." Skye muttered, folding her arms across her chest. She shook her head. "Whatever. If he wants to shut me out from him, then fine – but I have this serum in my body too. I want to know whether or not I'm going to go crazy like Garrett, just as much as he does!"
"Skye," May warned as Skye's tone got too loud.
"I'm tired of being in the dark!" Skye retorted, a little quieter.
"There are reasons,"
"Screw this." Skye left her standing there.
May blinked, then closed her eyes for a few moments.
"She still wears her heart on her face," May sighed, turning and leaving the room as well.
... ... ...
When Skye returned to her quarters that night, there was a note resting on the floor. Skye recognized May's handwriting immediately, and bit her lip slightly as she bent to pick it up. She felt a little bad about losing her temper earlier, and she was embarrassed that she had sounded so childish.
Go see him. No doubt he's still in his office. You know how he is.
For a second she wondered if this was a prank. May wasn't the type of person to leave notes around.
Then again… no one had been their usual selves, lately.
"Do I know how he is? I don't think I do. Not anymore." Skye tapped the note against her thigh a few times before tossing it onto her desk.
Ten minutes later she was sitting on her bed, her tablet propped on her knees. She was flipping mindlessly through the files of symbols, no particular goal in mind.
She looked back toward the note on her desk.
"Fuck."
... ... ...
She knocked twice and he called for her to enter, mild surprise in his voice. Is was rather late; he probably hadn't expected anyone else to be moving about.
"Skye," He said with surprise, his voice tight and on edge. He clearly wasn't excited to see her in here, but she didn't let that stop her. She shut the door behind her and approached his desk.
"What's wrong with you?" She asked, her tone far less accusatory than it had sounded in her head.
"Excuse me?" He sounded affronted, and leaned back in his chair. She stood in front of his desk, right across from him.
"What's wrong with you?" She repeated, looking into his eyes. She knew her voice was soft; she couldn't help it. As angry as she was with him, she still worried.
"Look, I don't want you working on this project. Just trust my judgment, and leave it at that. It's nothing against you, personally." He sounded tired; he didn't want to get into another argument with her.
She didn't want to argue with him, either, but it seemed to be the only way to get him to talk to her.
"What. Is. Wrong. With. You." She said again, looking him square in the eye. She watched him pinch his lips shut, stare at her for a moment, and then clench his jaw.
"This is inappropriate,"
"Ha,"
"Skye, leave it." Coulson stood, pressing his fingertips into the top of his desk.
"No." Skye retorted, putting her hands on top of the desk as well.
There it was – that sharp glint in his eye. She caught it, and she caught the moment he realized that she noticed.
"Get out of my office."
"No."
"Skye!" Coulson looked surprised that she wasn't listening to him, but still adamant.
She gave him a look, and folded her arms across her chest. He stood up straight and raised his eyebrow at her. She raised hers in return.
"I'm trying to keep you safe," He hissed, beyond frustrated, and she scoffed again.
"And who's supposed to keep you safe? May? Because it seems to me you aren't listening to May."
"How would you know – " He sounded appalled, but cut himself off. "She told you to come in here, didn't she." He clenched his fist and hid it behind his back.
Skye had caught it shaking.
"What is wrong with you, Coulson?" Skye asked again, this time pleading a little more with him to answer her. Her concern for him was evident in her eyes and her tone of voice, and for a moment, he looked guilty. He looked like he wanted to speak to her.
The moment passed.
"I can't tell you." He said, much more calmly.
"Do you think I'm an idiot, Coulson?" Before he could answer that, she continued, "Did you think I wouldn't figure it out? Why in the world would you ask me to look at this, if you didn't want me to know?"
"Of course you're not an idiot; that's why I wanted you on it…"
"You wanted me to figure it out." Skye said, shaking her head. She folded her arms across her chest. "You want me to be the one to say it. Because you're too scared to."
"Skye, this whole thing is scary. You want to know the truth? I'm terrified. I'm dying, and I'm terrified."
"I don't see why. You've done it once before already." Skye replied, and he winced.
"I deserve that."
"You deserve a lot of things, Sir. But don't expect me to be the one to give them to you." Skye widened her stance a little, trying not to appear so on edge. "You're the one writing these symbols. And May knows."
"May has known for a while."
"This has been happening for a while?" Skye said, and Coulson closed his eyes for a moment, looking like he hadn't meant to say that.
"…Yes."
"How long?" Skye demanded.
"Does that matter?" He sighed, gesturing vaguely in the air. "It's happening now, it's starting to happen more frequently, it's starting to become instigated – "
"What?" Skye jumped on that, and Coulson clenched his jaw.
"This is why I've kept away from you! I can't keep my mouth shut around you," He growled in frustration and wiped his hand across his face, pacing behind his desk. Skye watched him with some surprise.
"Could've fooled me." She commented. Coulson sighed, and was silent for a few moments.
"Yesterday. After our argument." He finally said, his eyes closed.
"You… drew more symbols?" Skye asked carefully, unsure of how to tread this conversation. She was angry; he'd been lying to her, but… he was dying?
He was scared. And she could finally see it. The truth was there on his face and it scared her.
He looked at her, and then rounded his desk, reaching for her hand. Frowning in confusion, she stared at his upturned palm for a moment. She slowly rested her hand on top of his, and he pulled her a few steps across the room, to the edge of the rug. Skye was too focused on the strangeness of holding his hand to think about the strangeness of him kneeling down to throw the rug back, tugging her down with him.
She didn't make a noise, but her hand squeezed around his almost like a vise.
They crouched there next to one another for a few moments, completely silent.
She had looked at all the pictures enough to know that this was quite different. This was frustration, anger.
"You did this after our argument?" She asked carefully, reaching out her empty hand toward the markings.
"Don't," He said quickly, and she stopped her hand midair, lifting her eyes to his.
"They're just cuts in the floor, Coulson. They won't hurt me." She told him, and that fear was there again in his eyes.
"You don't know that." He said quietly, desperately, and she squeezed his hand again.
She ran her fingers along the edges of the markings slowly, feeling all of her anger slowly drain away.
"We were in the dark together, Coulson. That's what saved me." She looked up at him again. "But then we weren't. Then you were in a dark place, and I was just in the dark, and we weren't together anymore."
"I didn't want you to see me like this." He admitted, not quite looking at her.
"I want to help," Skye insisted softly.
"I don't want you to be like this," Coulson pointed out, and he looked uncomfortably at the markings on the floor.
Skye pulled her hand away from his to grab the edges of the rug, flipping it out flat so that they were hidden once again. She stood, turned a little toward the window as she thought.
"There's no help for me." Coulson said, sounding terribly sure of himself, and resigned about it.
That scared Skye more than anything else had since she'd entered his office.
"Yes, there is. There's me." She said, and his laugh had no humor in it.
"Still haven't lost your determination."
"Of course not." She said, and continued on before he could pull the topic in another direction, "I have the serum too, you know, and – "
"I haven't forgotten." He sounded haunted.
"Listen to me." She faced him head on. "It's not affecting me at all. None of those negative side effects have happened to me. Maybe it's because I'm an 0-8-4. Maybe if I gave you some of my blood,"
"It can't be that easy." Coulson said, and she just stared at him. He hesitated, looked away, then looked back at her.
"Maybe it is." She said, seeing the uncertainty in his eyes and knowing he was at least considering her.
... ... ...
"See where lying to me gets you?" Skye said.
"Yes, just bask in it, why don't you?" Coulson muttered, rolling his sleeve down.
They've done this three times now; it's been two weeks since she confronted him in his office.
He's not felt shaky for a single moment going on twelve days straight.
"Oh, I certainly will." She smirked at him, and he pursed his lips, turning his head away so she wouldn't see the corners of his mouth curve upward. She knew, though.
She always knew.
"This isn't a permanent fix." He reminded her, standing up. She stood as well, smoothing her thumb across the band-aid on her elbow.
"I know. But it's helping, isn't it?" She said knowingly, following him out into the hall. He nodded.
"I can stand next to you without feeling like I'm going to go crazy," He sounded relieved, and Skye raised her eyebrow at him.
"I didn't realize that was a side-effect." She commented, and he glanced at her.
"It's… not. I was just… so worried that I would somehow trigger something bad for you…"
"Stop worrying about what hasn't happened," Skye said firmly, and he slipped his hands into his pockets and shrugged as a mild apology. "You've still got some things to work on…" Skye sighed, and he gave her a mildly surprised look.
"I have some things to work on? What about you?" He reached for her wrist, lifting it up and holding her arm between them. The heart monitor was still there, and she frowned and pulled her hand away from him.
"We've both got flaws. I never said we didn't. You know what I did say, though?" Skye stopped him in the hall, turning toward him. He looked at her expectantly. "I said, 'At least we're in the dark together'. And you know what you said? You agreed."
"I still agree," He assured her. "I hid behind my flaws; used them as an excuse. You used yours to kick my ass." Skye grinned.
"I could, you know. Kick your ass." She said, and he rolled his eyes as they both continued down the hall.
"Sure you could," He said flippantly, and she raised her eyebrows at him.
"I've been training with May, remember."
"Hmm."
... ... ...
"Today's not a good day, Skye." Coulson said when she entered his office. His voice was tight, like he was trying too hard to be nice to her.
She sighed. Of course Old-Coulson wouldn't have lasted for very long.
"Why?" She asked simply, sitting in the chair across from him.
"We've lost one of our contacts." He pulled up the map on the large screen and gestured angrily toward it. There were far more red dots on the screen than blue ones. "Hydra keeps snatching everyone up faster than I can even find them, and it's really starting to piss me off. Some of our best agents are turning and I don't know how."
"What about the brainwashing thing?" Skye pointed out, and frowned when Coulson laughed.
"Unless they have some sort of machine messing with their heads - " he started to joke, but then cut himself off and gave her a wide-eyed look. "Shit," he breathed, and Skye rubbed her hand across her eyes, frustrated.
"What we need to do is find out where they've got the machine."
"How the hell did they even - I destroyed the compound!"
Skye watched as he clenched his hands, then stood and began to pace behind his desk.
"If they were able to grab that... What if they have it?" He looked horrified for a moment.
"The creature?" Skye asked, leaning forward in the seat. "That... No. We can't go assuming the worst. That's hardly gotten you anywhere in the past year."
"But if they do have it and we just allow them the time to run tests - Skye, what's happening to me can't happen to anyone else."
"Who says anything's happening to you?" Skye raised her eyebrow, refusing to let him continue thinking that he was dying.
"Look at me!" He held his hand out in between them, and it was obvious his fingers were trembling.
"We should go to the lab again," Skye stood, and he shook his head.
"We just went yesterday. You need to give your body time to recover," He dismissed her idea. "I told you this was only a temporary fix." He began pacing again, his steps heavier.
"So, what, it's only temporary for me too, then? At some point it's inevitable that I'm going to go crazy too?" Skye folded her arms across her chest, and he had a wounded look on his face for a moment.
"No; you're different,"
"Dammit Coulson, have you ever stopped to consider that this is a gift? Maybe this is a good thing and it's only causing you problems because you keep fighting against it!"
Skye's words stopped his pacing, and he looked appalled at her.
"You sound like Raina." He said, half surprised and half biting. Skye narrowed her eyes at him.
"I'm trying to help you, not torture you." She said lowly.
"You being here is torturing me!" Coulson exclaimed. Skye frowned, confused. "Being near you has always made this," He clenched his teeth, swallowed, "burning, in my veins. I can feel it, in my blood. Running through my veins. And the more I'm around you, the more I can feel it."
He was looking at her almost accusatory as he rounded his desk. She couldn't help but take a step back.
That sharp glint was in his eyes again.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about." He said knowingly, grabbing her wrist. She flinched but his grip was tight, and he pressed the button on her monitor.
120.
127.
130.
She took a deep, unsteady breath in and looked back up to his face.
She knew immediately.
Coulson was gone.
... ... ...
She didn't know where the knife came from, but it was sharp enough that it cut through her palm like butter. She hissed at the pain, jerking her arm, but his grip on her wrist was unrelenting.
"It burns, doesn't it?" He said calmly, and then let go of her wrist to cut into his own palm. She gripped her hand and tried to steady her breathing, wincing at the blood pooling on her skin.
"What the hell,"
He grabbed her again and pulled her hand toward him, lifting his own wounded hand to show her.
"It looks the same, doesn't it?" He mused, and she stared at him with wide eyes. "Your pulse is racing like a rabbit's. You're scared. But don't be. I won't hurt you."
"You just did!" She yelled at him, angry at her body for betraying her.
She was terrified.
In this moment, she was reliving what had happened on the Bus, when Ward kidnapped her... Except this was far worse. This was Coulson.
"This is important," He told her firmly, looking her straight in the eyes. He grasped her wounded hand with his own, pressing their palms together tightly. She gasped at the sharp shooting pain, and then
Then she felt a sense of vertigo.
Her stomach twisted and then Coulson's eyes were the universe, surrounding her; they were standing on nothing and everything was around them and the only sense of solidity she could feel was her hand in his.
She felt their blood mixing.
(Is this what hers had done to him? Without her knowledge? Had he known this was happening to him every time she gave him her blood?)
It was terrifying.
It was beautiful.
Something was reaching toward her, a smile on it's face; it's not quite human face. She couldn't pull away, she couldn't move at all, she could only stare at it as it stretched a finger toward her shoulder, above her heart.
It traced lines there, and Coulson's hand was tight around hers.
It pulled away, looked at Coulson. It nodded. Skye couldn't breathe. Her heart beat too fast; it shouldn't be beating this fast.
Bright, bright light. More purple than white.
Skye opened her eyes to find someone kneeling over her. She flinched away, groaned at the sudden movement jarring her head, and then yelped when that person touched her arm.
"Don't touch me!" She yelled. "Don't touch me!" She squeezed her eyes closed and curled away.
"Okay, okay," It was May, trying to be soothing, but her tone was urgent. "What happened? Are you okay? Is anything broken?" There was a shift as May moved away.
"Just... Give me a minute." Skye muttered, her mouth feeling like cotton and her brain feeling like someone took a jackhammer to her skull.
"What happened to Coulson?" May asked, and Skye threw her eyes open, sitting up on her hands so she could survey the room.
She relaxed a little when she saw him on the floor next to her, appearing unharmed.
"He... I think he had an episode," Skye said slowly, sitting up gingerly. She saw May reaching for him, probably attempting to shake him awake, and she pushed her SO's hands away. "Don't! He might be... Like me. I'm a little sensitive right now." Skye half-explained, not understanding herself.
May furrowed her brow, but sat back. She watched as Skye carefully rested her palm against his chest. There wasn't any pain, though there was a sharp current of something else.
Coulson gasped and sat straight up, breathing heavily.
"What," He asked, looking around, seeing Skye. "Skye," he breathed, relieved, and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him.
"Ah!" She hissed when his shoulder bumped into hers, and he immediately loosened his hold and looked at her worriedly.
"Did I hurt you?" He asked dreadfully, and she frowned, looking down at her shoulder. May slid closer to them and hooked a finger around the collar of Skye's shirt, pulling it down around her shoulder.
With a long moment of silence, all three of them stared at it for a while.
"I'm taking you both to the infirmary." May said firmly, getting to her feet. She helped the other two stand as well, and then said, "And I'm calling Simmons."
... ... ...
"I told them I had a family emergency. Surprisingly, they let me go." Simmons told May. "And I made sure I wasn't followed."
"Good job, Simmons. You know I wouldn't have called unless it was serious." May said, and Simmons nodded, looking toward the two people sitting next to each other on the edge of a medical bed.
"What happened?" She asked worriedly.
"I'm not sure." May admitted. "But it has to do with the serum."
Simmons' eyes widened, and Coulson looked uncertain.
"There was a reason I didn't want Skye around..." He muttered, his comment clearly directed toward May, who frowned.
"She's been helpful and you know it."
"She's also put herself in danger and I could have killed her,"
"No," Skye interrupted him thoughtfully. "No, you weren't going to kill me." She realized this, and felt stupid for thinking otherwise. Of course Coulson wouldn't kill her.
"There was blood everywhere!" He pointed out, and Simmons stepped closer to them in concern.
"Who was hurt? Where?" She asked quickly, and May shook her head.
"I checked over them both as soon as I found them. No open wounds. Though," She stepped toward them both, grabbing their hands and turning them over. "These are new."
Simmons raised her eyebrows in surprise at the scars; a single line across each of their palms. It was long, and a little wide, but it didn't look new.
"These look to be months, if not years old." Simmons said, running her finger along them. They both flinched, and she looked up quickly. "Did that hurt?"
"No," Skye said, her brow furrowed, "it just felt... Weird." Coulson nodded in agreement.
"And there's this, too." May pulled at the collar of Skye's shirt again. The lines looked almost like hash marks, the scarring newer than the ones on their hands but still not like something that had just happened.
"See? I hurt her." Coulson spoke, hating himself. "I had to have been the one to do that; no one else has seen those markings before,"
"You've seen these before?" Simmons asked, at the same time May asked,
"You know what these mean?"
"They... Were on the creature. They're the same markings." Coulson admitted. Simmons looked toward May with concern.
... ... ...
They were back in his office, standing in front of one another, remembering the exact spot where he had put their hands together.
They were both silent for a moment, not quite looking at each other.
"The markings on your shoulder..." Coulson began slowly.
"When we blacked out..." Skye began in the same way.
They looked at each other.
"You remember." He said, strangely calm. She nodded.
"It was... Beautiful." She said.
"Yes." He agreed.
They looked at each other in silence some more.
"That's my name." He said, gesturing with his chin toward her. She touched her fingertips to her shoulder.
"I know." She said. She stepped forward, wrapping her hand gently around his tie, not quite pulling on it.
"We can't tell them." He spoke seriously, resting his hands on her waist. "Not yet."
"We can figure this out together." She agreed, and he thought for a moment.
"That place... Wasn't dark." He said thoughtfully, and she smiled a little.
"No, it wasn't." She agreed. He relaxed a little, appeased, and leaned his head toward hers. Their noses brushed, and she pulled her head back slightly.
"I'm still angry at you for lying to me."
"And I still expect you to kick my ass," Coulson agreed.
Skye grasped his tie more firmly and slid her other hand behind his head, curving her fingers around the back of his neck, pulling him in.
