A special thanks to over on Instagram who gave me the idea for this. Thanks hun!
"Isn't that why they call you the Calvery?"
Gonzales' words echoed through Melinda's mind as she was escorted back to the room they were keeping her in. Yes, it was true that she was called the Calvery because of her actions in Bahrain, but it was far from deserved. If anyone ever learned what actually happened that day, she would never be free. She'd be in the same boat as Skye. If anyone knew what she really was, they'd never trust her again. Phil didn't even know all of it. No one did.
As soon as the door was shut, she dropped back against the wall, wincing at the familiar burning that passed through her body. It had become a part of her body after so many years, a pain that she could suppress so long as she kept her emotions in check. It was when she lost control of her emotions that her powers came out. How she'd kept them in check when she was holding the Beserker staff, she wasn't sure. She was eternally grateful though. If her powers had come out then...well, she wouldn't be running around free. And the others would probably be dead.
Taking a deep breath, she straightened again and removed her shoes before stepping into position to begin her Tai Chi. It was the middle of the day, but the motions would help sooth her- keep her powers in check. The last thing she needed was to give Gonzales something against her, too. Right now, she was Phil and Skye's only chance. She needed to keep her powers in check for all their sake.
Unbidden, the events of Bahrain began to slip through her mind as she moved through her normal sequence of moves. Not that it was a surprise. Normally, Melinda would avoid thinking about that day at all costs, but for the first time in years, she let the events of that day slip through her mind, searching for something she couldn't begin to understand.
"Phil, I can do this," insisted Melinda, her voice dropping low as she grabbed his arm to keep him from walking away. Her friend, her leader, paused as her hand wrapped around his arm, though his head darted around as if he were concerned someone might spot the gesture. She understood of course- he was her superior and in theory she should never speak to him that way. It was why she'd made sure no one was looking before she stopped him though.
No one was paying attention to them- all eyes were on the building where a combination of civilians and SHIELD agents were being held hostage by an unknown individual. And who could blame them? It was the entire purpose of their presence at this point and rightly should be their focus. Which was why she was objecting to Phil's dismissal of her ability to go in and take care of this quickly. This needed to end, now.
"I don't doubt you can do this, Melinda," stated Phil quietly, his eyes still darting around among the other agents. "But I'm not willing to risk sending you in alone. We don't need another agent trapped inside."
"We also don't have enough information to send in a team," pointed out Melinda, dropping his arm and folding hers across her chest. "At least let me go in and scope out what's happening. You know I work better alone." Pausing, she debated her next words before adding: "I'm going in regardless of if you agree or not. This needs to end as quickly as possible and I know at minimum I can get us the information we need to end this without anyone else getting hurt."
"Melinda..." Phil's voice carried an edge of warning, but she could see the resignation in his eyes. She wasn't going to let him hold her back from this- not if she could end it. It didn't make his worried, weary face any less painful to look at though. She didn't want to hurt him or make him worry but she couldn't just stand out there and pretend like she was as helpless as the other agents. And they couldn't afford to let this keep going on. Not when they weren't sure what was happening inside.
"Fine," signed Phil at last, taking her arm and guiding her towards a table where various wires and communication equipment were sitting out. He handed her a wire, helping her to secure it before he pulled a tactical vest on her. He did all of this silently, a grim look plastered to his face. There was a worry there she wasn't familiar with though- he was always a little worried about his people, but this was a deep-rooted look she doubted she'd ever be able to shake.
Finally, he stepped back, handing her a gun he knew she wouldn't use but would insist she carried anyway. She took it silently and tucked it into a holster on her hip. He hand rose to grip her elbow lightly as she finished tucking the weapon away, drawing her eyes back up to his. That worry was still hovering in the depths of his eyes, making him look ten years older than his actual 35 years. "Be careful, Melinda. I can't shake the feeling we're missing something major here."
"I will be," she assured gently, glancing around before she reached up to lay her hand over the one around her elbow. "I'll be fine, Phil. Just stay on the other end of the communicator. Let me get in and scope this out. We can figure out a plan of attack after that."
Phil nodded, not saying anything further as he turned towards the communication center. Melinda turned the opposite way, heading for the side of the building. She'd already done a walk around earlier when she'd been feeling antsy and knew exactly how she was going to get inside. There were several options, but only one would really get her somewhere that she could maneuver from. They'd expect people to enter on the bottom floor- they wouldn't be expecting someone to come in from halfway through the building.
As she veered left and headed into the building beside the one where the hostages were being held, she heard Phil come on the comm line. "So what's your plan?"
"There's a ledge on the west side of the building wide enough for plants. It's about two stories up." She entered the other building as she spoke, starting up the stairs towards the second story of the building. "It's directly outside a window."
"I saw it," stated Phil, his voice tense. "Can you reach it?"
"There's a second window a little above it on the building next door," replied Melinda, cutting a left at the landing and heading towards where the window she needed should about be. It was where she'd predicted and upon opening it she confirmed that there was enough space for her to jump and land on the landing. Or at least grab it.
Phil groaned over the comms and she could just see the pinched look on his face. "What is with you and Barton jumping off high objects?"
"It's one story," objected Melinda, climbing onto the window sill.
"You can still break something," pointed out Phil. "Remember my shoulder?"
"That's because you failed to roll," stated Melinda simply before she took a deep breath and jumped from the sill. There was a moment of freefall, the sense of air rushing by, before her feet touched the ledge on the building across the way. Immediately, she tilted forward, her shoulder hitting the wall of the building with a soft thump she prayed wouldn't be heard inside. The ledge was no where near as large as she'd thought.
"Don't forget to roll," remarked Phil sarcastically and she just knew he only said it because he'd seen her shoulder hit the wall.
"In this case rolling would cause me to break something," sniped back Melinda, rubbing her shoulder slightly as she glanced through the window. The space inside appeared empty, with the window opening over a staircase curving up to the second story of the building. She'd been expecting something to that extent- it was pretty clear the window wasn't actually on the second story- it was too low. "I see a staircase."
"According to the blueprints of the building, it should lead into the main hallway of the second floor," offered Phil. She could hear shifting papers on his end, so she focused on the window itself. He'd offer her more information when he had it. In the mean time, she wanted to get in without anyone noticing.
The window latch was inside, as expected, but the seal on the window was absolutely atrocious. Then again- the building was an older one. There was a good chance the window pane was a recent addition. A flick of her knife between the window and it's frame undid the simple latch, allowing her to wedge the window up and open. No sound echoed out from inside the building, a fact which made her very uneasy.
"I'm going in," breathed Melinda a second before she slipped through the window to drop on the stairs. She could hear Phil's muttered curse, knowing he wanted her to wait. She couldn't afford to though, not when the silence was so deafening.
"There's 10 hostages, May," reminded Phil. "One's a little girl and the rest are our own. We don't know how they're being held, so be prepared for anything."
"Always," breathed Melinda as she crept towards the second floor. She needed to locate the hostages before she could worry about finding the rest of the enemy agents. These worshipers who'd taken their men hostage were dangerous, but in a different way from enemy agents. They didn't have the skills to sneak up on her like trained agents might but they would fight harder than enemy agents, to the point of being willing to give up their lives.
It made them a lot more dangerous.
Minimizing the body count needed to be Melinda's priority. She needed to kill as few people as she could- it wasn't these people's fault they were following a psychopath. She didn't want to kill anyone who didn't need to be.
Hitting the main hallway, she scanned the area directly in front of her with both her eyes and ears. There should be something to give her a clue about what direction she needed to head in. Most likely the entire group was buckled down somewhere- it was common protocol for cults. They tended to draw everyone into one space and hold their ground rather than spread out. It would make her job more difficult but would make finding them a lot easier.
Any thoughts they'd bunked down went out the window a second later, however, when a door opened and a man nearly ran into her. He got off a shout before she slammed her hand into his larynx, breaking the bones and making it impossible for him to talk. A strike to his solar plexus and one to the side of his head had him down in a second. Unfortunately, his shout had drawn reinforcements. And from the directionality of the noise, she could tell all the guards were not upstairs.
A quick check over the railing to the lower level confirmed that. She could see three men running up from the lower level and there was the noise of at least two more echoing up from down the hallway. They were going to force her to fight on two fronts unless she did something quickly. She needed to force them all in front of her, give her only one front to fight on. That meant either jumping over the railing or heading back down the stairs.
She didn't hesitate to jump over the railing and roll, landing behind the three men coming up from below. It would give her some cover from the guys running around upstairs, too. She struck out at the man closet to her rapidly, taking him down before he could register her appearance. A double strike stomach-head combo took down the next guy and a kick to the gut sent the third one slamming into the wall hard enough to leave him crumpled on the ground. She ran for the stairs then; if there were only three guards on the bottom floor, then the hostages were upstairs.
Two men appeared at the top of the stairs as soon as she hit the middle landing, where the stairs made a right turn and continued towards the second floor hallway. They screamed something at her and charged, clearly trying to take her down without killing her. Melinda returned the favor as she kicked one so he fell back on the stairs and basically clothes-lined the other. The one who felt back against the stairs tried to stand, but a well placed hit to the pressure point at his temple rendered him unconscious. The other man she'd knocked down wasn't moving.
"Melinda May!" Phil's shout though the comms caught her attention as she began to move up the stairs, causing her to pause momentarily. The way her ear was ringing, she wondered how long he'd been shouting at her.
"What Coulson?" hissed Melinda as she crept forward, careful to keep her voice low and her eyes open. There was no telling if there were more guards coming or if they were going to hold back the rest of the men.
"Report," commanded Phil, his voice tense and a little horse. The poor people in the comm center with him must be rubbing their ears like crazy. There was no way he hadn't blown their ears out.
"Don't use that tone with me, Phil," growled Melinda, her back pressing to the wall as she hit the second story landing and started along the hallway. "I was a little preoccupied."
"I got that," sighed Phil, his voice calming significantly. "What's happening May."
"A alarm when up," replied Melinda simply, flattening herself harder against the wall as some noise or another from much further down the hallway caught her attention. "I've been spotted."
Phil's cursing was loud and probably scaring more than a few people right now. She'd actually watched junior agents pale when he started cursing. It was funny, in a weird way. "You need to get out of there."
"No, I need to get to the hostages," countered Melinda, her teeth grinding a little at what she knew was going to become an argument unless she could cut him off. "I'm already inside and halfway there. We aren't going to get another chance like this if I leave."
"I'd rather have you out here than being held in there," insisted Phil, his frustration with her apparent in his voice. "You aren't of any use to anyone if you get caught."
"Then I won't get caught," countered Melinda, dropping her voice as she neared the door the first guard had come out of. It was propped open and there was no sign of anyone else in the room. It was probably a sentry post of some kind. There was a pretty big window inside.
"Melinda, this isn't-" started Phil, but she cut him off before he could go into his 'this isn't a game' speech he tried to use on Barton every time the archer did something unnecessarily dangerous.
"I'm already inside," repeated Melinda as she slipped inside the room to confirm it was as empty as it had looked outside. It was and there was no sign of another way into the room other than the hallway. It meant she didn't have to worry about someone creeping in behind her. "We won't get another chance like this."
"No," insisted Phil, his teeth almost audibly grinding at this point. "May, I'm ordering you to-"
"Phil," growled Melinda, cutting him off as she slipped out in the hallway. That did it. Phil was her best friend and under other circumstances she would have followed his orders, but this time he was wrong and he knew it. He was placing his concern for her well-being over that of the mission and she wasn't going to let him do that. She wouldn't let him compromise his own ability as a handler because he was worried about her. "If you don't shut up, I'm going to throw my comm at the next guy who comes at me."
That shut him up. Of course, even if she did use her comm as a weapon, she'd put it back in when she was done (not that it would really do any good even if she did throw it at someone). Phil knew she wouldn't cut off their comm line, either. It wasn't like her. But her threat spoke to how irritated she was becoming with him, and he'd read it for what it was.
Shuffling on his end startled her, then she heard the sound of the street over his comm. Crap, what was he doing. "Phil?"
"If you're going to do this, then I'm going to back you," stated Phil simply. "Keep to the north side of the building and try to stay near the windows. I'm going to be sitting on the neighboring roof with a rifle. If you get into trouble, get near a window and I'll do what I can."
She almost laughed at that. That was more like the Phil she knew. If he couldn't get her to come back out, he was going to back her as best he could. It wasn't like they had a great deal of people on their end at this point, after all. The strike team was still at least half an hour out.
That was why she was so determined to end this now- they couldn't keep waiting for a team to arrive. Not when they didn't know for sure what was going on inside. They had lost contact with the rest of their team almost an hour ago and they didn't know the status of either the hostage takers or the gifted who'd caused all this. Without knowing that, she couldn't just keep sitting around, waiting.
"Roger, Phil," murmured Melinda, slowing as she reached a cross-path in the hall. Her voice dropped significantly, on the off chance there were people around the corner. "I'm turning north now."
Glancing around the corner, she was somewhat relieved to find the hall empty. It was equally worrying though- an empty hall meant she had no ability to determine where the hostages might be. They could be through any of the doors lining the hall. "Phil, do you see anything?"
"There's some people in a room in the far left corner of the building," replied Phil, his breathing harsh as he spoke. "Up from where you are, then left. It's a room on the second floor along the north wall."
"Our hostages?" asked Melinda, somewhat hopeful. They hadn't been able to establish a line of sight on their team since the incident began. If they had one now though, at least she had a target.
"Hard to say," admitted Phil. She could hear the sound of him assembling the rifle and she had to wonder how he'd gotten up to his perch so fast. "What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking I know where I'm going now at least," stated Melinda, checking that her gun was still at her side. She hated firearms, but even she knew when one could prove useful. "Let me know if you see anything else, Phil."
His put-upon sigh spoke volumes.
Darting into the hall, Melinda moved as quickly as she could towards the room Phil had indicated. There was no one else in the hall, sending a bolt of unease through her body. Most of the cult members were probably guarding their hostages, but she still expected at least a few guards. Particularly after she'd taken down six of them earlier. Then again, there might not be that many more- the actual number of members wasn't know. It was part of what made this situation so dangerous.
She slowed as she reached the turn Phil had mentioned- the one that should take her down to the room he'd spotted. A check around the corner this time proved the hall wasn't as empty. What caught her attention most though was the fact that there were two doors being guarded- not one. The first was the furthest one down- probably the room Phil had seen. It was on the corner, right where he'd suggested. The other looked to be a more internal room, one that probably held the hostages. Both rooms were guarded and she'd have to pass by the room with the hostages in order to get to the second room.
Well, she had come for the hostages.
Flattening herself to the wall, she drew her gun and a stun grenade she'd come armed with for the assignment. They were about the only type of explosive she actually liked and they were built for situations like this. Once she started taking down the guards, anyone inside either room would probably flood the halls and she'd have a real mess on her hands. This wasn't going to be easy- that was for sure.
Taking a deep breath, she removed the pin on the flash grenade and lobbed it into the hall, covering her ears as soon as her hands were free. The resounding explosion and flash were visible even from around the corner. The shouts of the men in the hall told her that they'd been hit though. Good.
She was around the corner less than a second later, her foot connecting with the closest guard's head and sending him to the ground. The man beside him was down a breath later, one strike to his throat crumpling him. She pulled her gun then, firing two rounds in the men at the end of the hall. It wasn't ideal, but the alternative was run to the end of the hall to take them out and leave herself open to attack from anyone inside the first room. That wasn't something she was going to do.
Kicking open the door in front of her in hopes of startling anyone inside, Melinda forced her way in with her gun drawn, catching one man who had just reached the door in the head with the butt before she fired and shot another across the room in the shoulder. The second man crumpled as easily as the first. A third rushed her from the right, but a triple strike set to the stomach-throat-head had him on the ground in less than a second. He didn't stand back up, either.
"Agent May!"
The relief-filled statement drew her eyes attention to the center of the room where her teammates were gathered. Most of them looked to be up and conscious, but there were definitely three who looked like they'd gone down fighting. All of them were bound at the wrists with rope and it was pretty obvious they'd taken a beating.
Immediately, she crossed the room and quickly knelt before a man she had been introduced to as Agent James Avons. Blood was dripping down over his right eye and his wrists were bloody from where he'd been clearly pulling at the bonds. Without a second thought, she switched her gun for her knife and began cutting through the ropes binding his wrists. "Are you alright?"
"Nothing I couldn't take," assured Avons, rubbing his wrists as the last of the ropes fell away. "Jefferies, Calston, and McCamic are all out though. They got knocked out in the struggle when we got jumped."
Melinda glanced to the side where the three unconscious agents lay. They were breathing at least- that much she could see. There were definite signs of a struggle though, with at least one black eye, a broken nose, and possibly a broken jaw between the three of them.
Her eyes glanced across the rest of the hostages, noting definite signs of struggle. It was like she'd first thought- no one was completely unharmed. She didn't see any injuries that looked particularly grievous either, though. A pang of guilt went through her until she realized there was one hostage missing. Damnit. "We need to get you out of here. Where's the little girl?"
"They pulled her out of the room not too long ago," supplied Avons, pulling a knife off one of the unconscious men and beginning to cut the ropes binding the other agents. "I'm kinda surprised they haven't stormed the room yet."
"I'm not," replied Melinda, retrieving her knife and standing. "Get the others free and get out of here. I'm going to see if I can find her."
"The little girl?" asked Sheppard, another agent who'd been strangely quiet until that moment. The other woman's brow furrowed as she stared up at Melinda. "You don't even know where she was taken."
"I think I do," corrected Melinda, glancing towards the door back into the hall. "Coulson, any sign of a little girl with the men?"
"No," replied Phil, his breathing calm and even. She'd seen him on the sniper range before, knew how he'd look with his eye pressed to the scope and his body tense in anticipation of taking a shot. It was hotter than it should be. "I think there's another stairwell. The men moved away from the windows, but there's movement on the third floor."
"Great," muttered Melinda, turning back to the agents in the room. "Is there a stairwell up?"
"There's one on the other end of the hall," offered Sheppard as Avons cut her wrists free. "I saw it when they were dragging us up here and marked it as a potential escape route."
Mentally, Melinda made a note to recommend Sheppard undergo advanced escape tactics. That the other woman had noticed a stairwell up and thought to use it as an escape route was definitely a level up from where Sheppard was in her training. "Alright, I'm going to cut down that way. Will you be alright if I leave or do you need cover?"
"We've got big guns," assured Avons as he finished freeing Sheppard and gestured to the semi-automatics the cultists had been carrying. "I think we'll be good. Do we have a clear shot down?"
"You should," confirmed Melinda, mentally checking the number of bullets left in her own gun and wondering if she should pick up one of the guns in the hallway. It would be better if she left them for the others though- they would need the guns more than she would. "Three men charged me below earlier and I took all three down. I think those were the only people downstairs." Which was weird- why wasn't anyone bursting in on them now? Trying to pin them down in the room?
"There aren't that many of them in here," remarked Sheppard as she picked up one of the semi's and check the magazine. "I've seen maybe fifteen total."
"Doesn't mean there aren't more," pointed out Avons as he cut the last of the agents free and scooped up his own semi-automatic. "Be careful, Agent May."
Melinda just nodded and glanced back out into the hall to confirm it was clear before she bolted down towards the back stairs. She could see them at the end of the hall as soon as she turned towards them. Good- it gave her a way up that they might not be expecting her to take.
"I really wish you'd leave with them," remarked Phil over the comms. "We can get the girl when the assault team arrives."
"And if she's already dead?" countered Melinda with a scowl as she hit the stairs in a quiet run. Her hand fell to the gun at her side, drawing it again in case she needed it. "I'm not leaving a kid in this guy's hands, Phil. It's pretty obvious he's missing a few screws."
Phil's muttered response sounded suspiciously like 'so are you', but she ignored it. If something happened to this little girl because she allowed Phil to pull her out, she knew the guilt would eat him alive. It would eat them both alive. Losing an adult agent they knew to a fight was nothing compared to knowing they didn't do enough to help a child. It was a guilt neither of them could face.
Pausing at the third floor landing, Melinda pressed her body mostly against the wall and slowly peeked out from around the opening. She could see three men standing in front of an archway that didn't appear to contain a door. Below, she could hear the other agents moving, creeping out as best they could. Good. She'd keep these guys distracted while the others escaped. Unfortunately, she hadn't thought to bring another stun grenade and she had no clue how many others were inside the room. Her gun held six rounds and one in the chamber. She'd used two before, so there should be five total left. It didn't give her a lot of room for error and she was actually considering creeping back down to grab one of the automatics when she heard the little girl shout.
She didn't think before she fired off three shots, catching and downing all three of them men near the doorway. Screw it; she didn't need a gun to handle this. Guns were overrated anyway.
Bolting down the hall, she kicked a man just as he came into view, sending the guard flying back against the frame of the archway before she slammed the butt of her gun into his head and spun the barrel to face into the room.
Three men stood in the middle of the room, two armed and one holding what looked like a very shiny silver device in one hand. It was cylindrical and shone in a way that really didn't look natural. Great, they had a gifted with something that could range from a solid piece of metal to a fancy bomb. Things just kept getting better.
The worst part, however, was the little girl. She stood directly between the three men and in the direct line of fire. Two of the men had guns trained on her and the third, the gifted they'd been targeting, stood directly behind her with the bizarre cylinder. Well then. This definitely wasn't good. Her only chance was the windows behind them. Maybe, maybe Phil could get a shot off. It was impossible to tell if he'd have a shot though, and she couldn't assume he would.
The little girl cried out again, shouting in Arabic what Melinda recognized as 'help me'.
"She can't help you, little one," remarked the gifted with a sneer, his hand tightening on the cylinder. "Not any more than anyone else. But don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. All I want to do is make you great."
"Leave her alone," commanded Melinda, her voice tensing as she raised the barrel of her gun a little so it was aimed between the man's eyes. The sound of a cocking gun was an eerie reminder that she wasn't the only armed one, however, and she wasn't close enough to take the two men out before they could fire at the girl.
"Why? So she can continue living her pathetic, miserable life?" challenged the gifted, waving the cylinder around a little as he spoke. "Please. I have found the gift that will give her greatness. That will cause the world to bow to her as these men do to me!"
Melinda's jaw tightened, but she didn't fire. She just let the man ramble, hoping he'd give her some clue as to what his power was. Clearly he was unstable and she wasn't going to have a choice except to take him out, but she'd need to understand what she was dealing with if she was going to do exactly that.
Oblivious, the man continued uncensored. "I have shown these men my power over fire." As he spoke, fire cut through the air in front of his hand. And in that instant, Melinda knew it was a lie. She could see the edge of tubing against his sleeve, recognized the flow of fire from a controlled source. There was no magic in his hands- just parlor tricks. How had these people fallen for his words? But then, she knew- they had seen in him something they desperately wanted- hope. He'd promised them greatness and they'd sworn to follow him for it.
Melinda wasn't so inclined though. "I've seen that trick a hundred times. Did you at least remember to fire-proof your suit? It looks bad when you light yourself on fire."
The way the supposed 'gifted's face turned molten was priceless, or would have been if the situation weren't so dire. They really needed a way out. Over her comm, she heard Phil speaking quietly. "Almost there."
She didn't know what that meant, exactly, but she really hoped it meant he was almost at the third floor and in a position to offer her back-up. Back-up would be really helpful right now if she wanted to get them out alive. That silver cylinder was making her more than a little uneasy, particularly because the guy was holding it with gloves on. That didn't usually bode well. Then again, some people seemed to just like wearing dark gloves and looking menacing. Those were the people she usually took more pleasure in beating the shit out of.
"My powers are no trick!" snarled the supposed gifted, his arm gesticulating wildly. "I have the power to give others power if they are worthy! I have proven it!" He waved the cylinder around then, shaking it at her like it was some kind of magical device. "This cylinder tells me who is and isn't worthy to receive the gifts I have been! It guides me to those who are worthy!"
Oh great, so his cylinder wasn't a bomb, it was some kind of 'magical' device that told him who he could 'give powers' to. Right. That was a laugh. She'd seen that trick before, too. "Really, and what happens to the unworthy?"
"They turn to stone," snarled the 'gifted', raising the container as he knelt behind the little girl. The metal came to hover perilously close to her cheek. "Do you think she's worthy? Should I test her?"
Again, the girl screamed.
Mentally, Melinda cursed and prepared to shoot. She was really running out of options here and at this point she either risked his crazy device actually worked (which was possible given the cult followers obviously had seen something to be so devout) or she shot someone and hoped she managed to take out the men before they shot the little girl. Where the hell was Phil anywa-
The man to the left of the gifted fell with a jolt, blood leaking from a hole in his head. The man to the right followed suit half a second later, leaving the gifted without back-up. She was going to kiss Phil when this was done. The man's timing was beyond perfect.
Keeping her gun leveled at the gifted's head, she took a step forward. "Let her go."
The little girl's terrified face looked up at Melinda, her eyes wide and pleading even as a cruel smirk unfurled across the man's face. "No." Then he pressed the cylinder to the girl's cheek.
Almost immediately, grey began to crawl across the girl's cheek, her eyes widening and she screamed in what had to be raw pain. Her terror was palpable as that thing, whatever it was, did it's work. The shock of seeing the device work threw her onto auto pilot. Without thought she raised her gun and fired once as the cylinder, causing the gifted to drop it with a shout. Even without the cylinder touching her skin though, grey continued to engulf the little girl until she stood frozen in place- a dark statue in the midst of the room.
Anger enveloped her mind as she turned and leapt at the gifted, her fist connecting with his head hard enough to whip it sideways. The canister in his hand crashed to the ground with him, striking hard stone and bouncing once before it hit again and shattered. He froze at the sound, eyes going wide as he watched a cluster of crystals scatter across the ground.
Then they began fizzing, green mist rising up from their surface. The gifted shot a horrified look at Melinda, one that turned rapidly to anger. "What have you done!"
"Apparently, I've destroyed your toy," countered Melinda a second before she lashed out at the man. If he wasn't concerned for the mist then she wouldn't be either.
He deflected her strike, to her surprise, fire shooting from his left wrist straight at her. She cursed and ducked, the ends of her hair being singed as she did. Damn that was too close.
She didn't hesitate to grab her knife and slice up towards his arm, feeling vindicated when something colorless that smelled distinctly like gas began flowing from his forearm.
Unfortunately, it left her open to a kick she wasn't expecting that caught her in the side and sent her rolling. The echoing pain from what had to be steel-toed boots made breathing momentarily painful, but it didn't stop her from rolling to her knees. She caught as second kick aimed at her head and used her position to send the man to the ground with the force of his own momentum. He landed on his back with a harsh curse, his head colliding with the stone with a loud smack. Melinda didn't pause to see if he'd recovered, she jumped on him and delivered a swift hit to the head guarenteed to ensure he wouldn't get back up immediately. The urge to keep hitting him was only barely kept at bay.
Shakily, she stood, her breathing ragged as she stared down at the unconscious man. Which was when she saw the way his skin began to harden and grey like the little girls had. She stood in horror, watching as the same stone slid over his body that had covered the girl's. The mist from those weird crystals was beginning to gather and grow dense. Melinda felt it beginning to choke her. She needed to get out of there.
Turning, she tried to run from the room, only for searing pain to erupt in her right shoulder followed by the edge of her left leg. Her left leg gave out almost immediately, sending her crashing to her knees and into the thickening mist. Panic began to set in half a second before her body began to stiffen. She tried to push herself up off the floor, but her limbs wouldn't move. She couldn't move.
The gray color started at her fingertips, climbing rapidly up her body despite her attempts to move out of the growing mist. She managed to get her hands under her just as her wrists froze in place, immoblized by something that felt like stone. And with the stone came the burning. Every inch of her body felt alight. It was as if her body were burning from the inside out. Her stomach twisted as pain flooded her system, chasing the hardening substance until it completely engulfed her.
Panic began to seize her as the stone grew over her face and for one horrifying moment, she realized she couldn't breath. She couldn't move. She was going to die as a stone-encrusted statue. But all those thoughts were chased away as an unimaginable pain flashed over her body. In that one instant, it felt as if every molecule of DNA in her body were being rearranged. As if she were being burned alive at the molecular level. She couldn't move, couldn't do anything to alleviate the pain. All she could do was pray for the death she could feel creeping over her.
It felt like ages as the fire tore through her body. As she felt it engulf her body. Then, the pain receded just as quickly as it had come, the pain pushing to the surface then seem to seep from her skin. The pressure inside the stone skin that surrounded her pressed against her body, making her bones feel like they would be crushed in an instant if she didn't move.
The pressure continued to build and expand. But with the building pressure came heat. The heat scorched her skin, pressing against her with the pressure. She was inside a furnace and she was going to boil alive. Even the stone around her felt like it was breaking.
Then it was gone. In an explosion of fire and rush of air, the stone flew apart as fire filled the room around her. The room was an inferno, and she was at it's core. Fire danced over her skin and around her body like some kind of liquid, rising around her, shielding her.
She could hear screaming, the sounds of men shouting and running. The scent of burning flesh. But she couldn't see a thing through the flames that seemed to be engulfing the room. What the hell had happened? She needed to get out. She needed to get away from the fire before she burned alive, but it surrounded her. Closing her eyes, she tried to breath through the panic that was setting in again.
This was how it was going to end: she was going to burn alive in the middle of an inferno after barely escaping from some weird stone prison brought on by some supposed gifted welding a crazy weapon. She was going to die. There was no escape. All she wanted was for the flames to disappear.
For a moment, the fire around her flashed stronger before suddenly pulling back towards her. It surged around her body, pressing against her skin before it finally disappeared into her. She felt the flames absorb through her skin, mingle back into her body before they vanished completely.
Her head hit the floor as the world spun, her breathing erratic and sharp. The sound of Phil shouting came over the comm, but she couldn't bring herself to respond. She couldn't even pull in enough air to speak. All she could do was breath and stare as the mist finished evaporating. And with it, she could see the carnage left behind. Several broken stone statues that looked like they may have once been men lay scattered around the room. The room itself was charred and burned, covered in scorch marks and destroyed by the fire that had moments ago been raging.
The sound of running feet and a shouting voice distracted her from the destruction and she forced her head to turn towards the door. Which was when she saw her arm. Her arm should have been burned from the fire, skin scorched beyond recognition. But her flesh was unharmed, her body undamaged by the fire. Her clothing was burned off in places, but her skin was whole and untouched. Not even a blister.
"Melinda!" Phil's shout drew her attention and she forced her head to turn towards him. The mist was gone from the room, but part of her still wanted to tell him to stay back. She didn't want to see him turn to stone like the others hand. It didn't matter though, her throat was too tight- too dry for her to speak.
He dropped to the floor next to her, helped her to roll onto her back, hands frantically pressing to her throat to check for a pulse. She blinked at him, forced one of her hands up to grip the hand closest to her. His shoulders visibly relaxed, his other hand rising to brush away her hair. "Hang on, we've got a medic coming up to patch you up."
She shook her head, forcing herself into a sitting position. Like hell she was going to wait there while someone came to get her. She wanted out of that room. Wanted away from the stone faces that stared at her accusingly. Which is when she realized something that made her blood run cold- two of the bodies she'd thought were turned to stone were actually burned beyond recognition. Her stomach lurched. She was going to throw up. God, she needed to get out of there.
How Phil knew, she wasn't sure, but he seemed to sense her distress all the same. Without a word, he carefully helped her to her feet, letting her lean heavily on his shoulder as he lead her from the room. They stumbled down the stairs to the second floor where a medical team met them part way down. The medics tried to take her from Phil, but she wouldn't let them, tightening her arm around him as she just tried to breath. She felt nauseous and the pressure from earlier was back. It wasn't as bad this time though, more like heat dancing over her skin than an overwhelming burning fire.
It was only when they were outside that she pulled him to a stop, mostly so she could lean on the wall of the building and just breath. Medical was on them in a moment, helping her up onto a stretcher and providing her with oxygen while checking her vitals. Phil didn't move away though. He took her hand in his and just stood there with her while medical checked her over. While they poked and prodded at her until she wanted to scream.
When they finally released her after patching up the bullet wounds an apparently a few other injuries she hadn't realized she'd sustained, Phil was still there waiting for her. He helped her to a empty SUV and into the back seat before climbing in after her. He didn't ask what happened as the car started and they pulled out into the street, just wrapped an arm around her shoulders and let her head rest on his shoulder. He held her silently as they drove towards the airbase where they'd grab a bus back to HQ. A bus Phil would have to debrief her on. God, what had even happened? She wasn't sure what had even happened in that room. How was she supposed to explain it?
"Relax Melinda," whispered Phil against her ear, one of his hand sliding into hers. "We can talk later. Get some sleep."
"Debrief," muttered Melinda, even as she felt her eyes drooping. "I have to debrief."
"Not right now," dismissed Phil. She felt him shift before they were suddenly reclining more, Phil drawing her closer. "Get some sleep, Melinda. We'll debrief later at HQ."
She'd resisted but ultimately couldn't avoid the draw of sleep. Why was she so sleepy? She shouldn't be so tired. Except she was and Phil seemed to sense it. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head as she drifted off, his arms tightening around her a little. It was the last thing she felt before she fell asleep.
Phil never had asked her what happened, not directly. He never demanded answers. Somehow, she suspected he knew more about what had happened that day than she did. He probably did if she was completely honest. After all, he had been perched in a building directly across the way. More than likely he'd witnessed most of what happened in the room.
Him not asking wasn't the same as him not wanting to know though. He had wanted to know- it was evident in the looks he would shoot her sometimes and the pain that would cross his face. There was no question that he wanted to know what had happened from her perspective. He didn't ask though- he'd just written off what happened in the room as the gifted being killed because he lost control of his own powers. The damage from the fire- everything- had been blamed on the deceased 'gifted'. No one had ever learned that she was, in fact, the gifted who'd destroyed that room.
Well, that might not be true. Regardless of the fact she'd refused to say a word about it, she suspected Fury and Phil both knew. She suspected that they both knew she'd transformed from a human to something else that day. The fire still burned under her skin and when she was actually alone, she'd let it flow at times. Let the fire dance over her skin and pool in her hands. It had taken years to truly be able to call upon her powers without nearly burning something down, not that she'd ever used her power in the field. She'd sought control only so that she wouldn't accidentally burn something down. If she used her power to reheat her tea at times or light a fire in lieu of matches, no one had to know. When she'd finally learned how to warm her skin without cracking her cups, she's nearly cheered.
After Skye's powers had been revealed, when Phil had allowed her to continue watching over Skye, it had been a relief. She had so much faith in Skye because she'd been through the same thing and she'd been capable of bringing her powers under control. Skye was more than capable of doing the same. But for Skye to have a chance, she would need to be kept safe from people like Gonzales. She'd need to be sheltered from people who wouldn't give her the chance to learn control- who'd condemn her because control wasn't an instantaneous thing.
She didn't like Gonzales' offer. The idea of working with the man in any capacity made her sick. But there weren't a lot of choices either. If she didn't take the position, Skye and Phil would really be left on their own and she'd be locked up somewhere unable to escape. Unlike Skye, who had been taken away somewhere unknown by a teleporter, she didn't have an obvious escape route. But Gonzales was offering her a chance to get into the organization, even if it was just a token offer to get her on their side. It would give her some latitude and the chance to see how things were being run. It would give her insider access she could use to get to information they didn't want her to know. Something was rotten in this new SHIELD, and she was posed in the perfect position to figure out exactly what.
Opening her eyes, Melinda took a deep breath and walked to the door leading out of her cell. She pounded on it once, forcing the churning of her stomach away. She had to do this for all their sakes- Skye, Phil, Hunter, Fitz and Simmons. She'd done worse than this in the past.
If she could learn to control a power she had never even wanted, spy on Phil under orders from Fury, and ultimately keep him from spiraling into madness, than she could pretend to agree with a possibly crazy narcissist to save the people she loves.
