Maybe it was her newfound powers that made her more acutely aware of it. The fear. They were all afraid of her now. She could see it in their eyes and practically sensed it radiating off them in waves. The levity was sucked out of the room whenever she entered, only to be replaced by an awkward silence. The forced smiles, the rigid body language, the hesitation to engage in conversation ...

They were all scared of what she had become. Of what she could do. Of the mayhem she could unleash. How she could bring down the entire building with a mere wave of her hands, crushing them under the debris.

Her transformation was frightening. Her seismic manipulation was substantial from the very beginning and had only increased with time. Her power manifested itself in the most brutal of ways and was linked directly to her emotional state. The entire base shook when she had nightmares, anything unsecured to the walls would come crashing to the floor – supplies,weapons, books, dishes ...

She felt no closer to taming it. Her inability to control it was frustrating – and catastrophic; she had tried everything – meditation, yoga, hypnosis, sedation ... nothing worked.

To add to her distress, her guilt about Trip's demise continued to plague her. The grief was unbearable. It was her fault that he died - he had followed her into the temple to save her and what did he get for his heroism? An abomination. She had transformed into an abomination.

Her rebirth came at the cost of his life - a monstrous phoenix rising up from his ashes. Her last image of him, of his petrified body on the ground next to her - the black empty shells where his eyes were, coupled with an eerily calm expression frozen on his face before he crumbled to dust - was seared into her memory, burned into her very soul, and haunted her dreams.

Oh Trip ... I'm so sorry.

She could find no solace anywhere. Her teammates no longer felt like family. The close bond she felt with all of them was destroyed, buried under the rubble of the temple along with the ghost of who she used to be. She gained the power to move the earth but lost the ability to connect with her peers, the very thing that kept her grounded. She had never felt so alone. The isolation she felt was sudden and acute - it was worse than she had ever experienced even as a child being bounced from from foster home to foster home or the time she spent living in solitude in her van before SHIELD had taken her in.

Her father had called it a 'gift'. She knew better. It was a curse that caused nothing but pain and devastation. What could her 'gift' offer to the world other than rubble and debris in her wake? Hers was a power not of healing or creating, strength or speed – it was one that could only be used for chaos and carnage. And one that always resulted in a massive clean-up bill.

In her desperation she had almost reached out to Raina but thought better of it. She recalled the aftermath of their transformation - Raina was standing across from her and she had witnessed with horror as she emerged from her stone cocoon. She had turned into something grotesque – a demonic feline creature with glowing amber eyes brimming with menace, a monstrosity birthed from the depths of hell. She had uttered a primal howl as she looked down at her claw-like hands. Giving Skye one last anguished look, she had she turned and fled from the catacombs before the walls had started to come down.

No. It was definitely not an option to track down Raina.

Fearing she would go mad with her burden, she had gone against Coulson's pleas and sought out her father. As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. Nobody understood. And they could never completely accept her - the fear would always be there. She traced his whereabouts to a makeshift clinic in a dingy basement, much like the one where she had first learned of his presence, all that time ago.

"Daisy." He smiled his lopsided grin. "My prodigal daughter returns to me at last. I knew you'd be back."

She was still unaccustomed to her birth name but she hadn't bothered correcting him. She had searched his eyes but found no trace of fear. That was all she needed from him – acceptance. Then she had broken down in his arms, her body wracked with sobs. So many months of trying to stay strong and not letting anyone find out how terrified she was had taken its toll. She wept as he stroked her hair and hummed the same haunting tune her mother sang to her as a baby.

They spoke of being outsiders, never being truly accepted by 'normal' people. She told him of her frustration at her inability to manage her growing power and the danger it caused. Her power was immense. It could flatten cities, bring skyscrapers crashing to the ground, make enemies fall to their knees in submission. Yet ironically she had never felt so powerless in her life, so out of control. He listened without judgement, nodding silently in response.

She was glad she found him. He hadn't offered much in way of advice but it was enough that he understood. She felt as though a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

"I have to go back now, Cal." She was still uncomfortable addressing him as 'Dad'. "But I'll be in touch."

"The young man ... Ward. Have you seen him since you shot him?" The doctor asked her abruptly, as she made her way to the door.

She looked at him in surprise. "How did you know ..?"

"I found him stumbling out of the building, with that woman with the scarred face." He continued, giving her a knowing look. "He told me what happened. I tended to his wounds. I thought it was the least I could do after he helped me find you."

"No, I haven't seen him since." Skye said quietly.

"You know, he and I are probably the only people in this world who can truly understand you." He said slowly, taking in her reaction. "I didn't get to spend too much time with him but I could tell what he was. He may be flawed but he wouldn't fear you. He's your counterpart. You need each other."

She didn't have the strength to argue. She had left him shortly afterwards and returned to the base. She felt eerily calm, an emotion she had not felt since her transformation. Cal's words about Ward echoed in her head for the remainder of the day.

Could he be right? Is he what I need?

That night would prove to be the worst since Puerto Rico. During another fitful sleep, she had brought down the entire training room with her nightmarish visions. She had awoken to the sound of screaming and had rushed out to find the others frantically trying to free Bobbi from under a brick wall that had collapsed on top of her. When he set eyes on her, Hunter had yelled for her to get out, get away ... and she had fled, tears blurring her vision as she scrambled from the devastation. Devastation she had caused.

Bobbi had survived, albeit with a concussion, a broken arm and a fractured pelvis. But Skye knew it was a matter of time before there would be more serious casualties.

She had to get away from here. As far away as possible from the people she cared about before she put any more of them in danger. She had been thinking about leaving SHIELD for some time but couldn't quite summon the courage to do so. Until now.

The catalyst, the final straw was when Coulson suggested the next day that she undergo 'testing' by SHIELD scientists, to be headed by Simmons.

"We only want to find out more about your potential, Skye." Jemma had attempted to reassure her but failed miserably. "And perhaps find a way to help you control your powers. I promise it will be as minimally invasive as possible."

She had shuddered at her use of the word 'control'. She pictured herself strapped to a gurney, being prodded and poked and experimented on like a lab rat. Or worse yet – cut into.

Like my mother was ...

Discovery requires experimentation.

The late Dr Whitehall's ominous words echoed in her head, the threat implicit in the statement.

No thanks.

So she had packed a few meagre belongings and slipped out under the cover of darkness.