couldn't help it. had to do it. apologies in advance.
I'm in the details with the devil
So now the world can never get me on my level
I just gotta get you off the cage
I'm a young lover's rage
Gonna need a spark to ignite
-My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark , Fall Out Boy
She couldn't control it. She sat on her bed, curled up in a ball and whimpered into the material of her sweatpants. No one could hear her because she was free and she had locked herself in her own room and it was in the middle of the night. Some part of her wished that Fitz had just been honest with the team and they would eradicate her for good.
Just as Jemma had said.
Her heart ached more at the thought of the biochemist sleeping in the room next to her. When Jemma had told Coulson that killing a super-powered human – her – was not necessarily the worst thing, it had been a slice of a very sharp knife through her heart. Yet she couldn't blame Jemma. She knew Jemma was right.
She should be eradicated. She didn't want to live her life like this, with fear of hurting the people she cared about. She didn't know if she'd be able to live with herself if she somehow harmed them in some ways with the seismic powers she possessed now.
She was pulled out of her thoughts by an abrupt knock on her door. She looked up with a gasp.
"Who is it?" she asked.
"It is I, Lady Sif. Or so you call me."
Yes, Lady Sif. She had somehow lost her memories by fighting a warrior. She could barely fight the scoff welling up in her throat at the thought. She frowned in confusion. Why would Sif come find her? Skye sighed and untangled herself and opened the door to see Sif dressed in pajamas.
Skye blinked. "I have need of your assistance," Sif implored.
Skye's frown returned. Of all people, she asked of her? Something wasn't right. But she nodded in agreement anyway and followed the Asgardian down the hallway and to the target practice room. All their weapons were stored there.
"You are not of this realm," Sif blurted. And quick as a lightning, she had grabbed her staff and wielded it.
What?
"As a matter of fact, you are of an unrecognizable realm," Sif continued. "You are a danger. What are you?"
Skye took a step back, eyes wide. "What are you talking about?" she feigned ignorance. Her heart was beating – pounding – in her chest like a speeding car. It was probably more than 300 per minute.
"I can sense it." Sif circled her.
But Skye made no move to defend herself. Why? Probably because she felt as if she deserved it. A form of punishment from the mighty warrior. Maybe Sif could help her by helping her team when she finally killed her.
"What's going on?" Their gazes shifted to the door where Jemma was standing there, eyes wide with fear and confusion. "Lady Sif, what are you doing?"
"This woman is dangerous."
A ludicrous look took over Jemma' face and the woman strode forwards so she could stand in front of Skye protectively. Skye couldn't find the words to tell Jemma that Sif was right, that she should stay away because she didn't want to hurt her. She could only fight the tears from leaking because Jemma had absolutely no idea.
"Step away, Lady Simmons," Sif ordered.
"No," Jemma refused firmly. "Skye is anything but dangerous! Put the staff down, Lady Sif."
Sif didn't put the staff down. She lifted it higher and glared at Skye over Jemma's head.
How long did it take for the rest of the team trickle in, she didn't know. But eventually, they were all gathered there, in the tight spaces of the target training room, all confused. They were shouting across the room, at each other and at Sif.
It was so loud and everything was so distorted and Skye couldn't get a grip on the shakes brewing from the bottom of her stomach. She could feel it happening. She knew what was bound to happen and she knew she couldn't keep it in any longer. She glanced at Jemma who had an arm held out protectively in front of Skye and then at Fitz who was staring at her warily and shaking his head.
She licked her lips. "Sif is right!" she blurted.
But they couldn't hear her. They were still shouting and taunting and the hanging lamp above her was starting to rattle. She clashed into Jemma and wrapped arms around the woman and pushed themselves away from the crash. The loud crash of the lamp and the dimming of the room finally quieted them down. Mack and Hunter and May were staring at the lamp dubiously while the rest were staring at her with curious and slightly afraid glances. Only Fitz was cursing under his breath and Jemma was pushing Skye from on top of her and surveying her worriedly.
"…you thinking? Did you know you could have been hurt?" Jemma's voice drifted into her ears. She turned from Fitz to the woman who had her hands on Skye's face, staring at her worriedly. "Are you okay?"
Skye gulped. She relished in the feel of Jemma's touch for the following two seconds before she pushed her away and scrambled back from everyone. Sif's glare was burning into her skin and she couldn't find the courage to meet the Asgardian's eyes.
"Sif's right," she repeated as she kept her eyes on the ground.
"What?" May said.
Skye swallowed a few mouthfuls saliva and opened her mouth, but no words emerged. She was a coward.
"Skye?" Bobbi prompted.
No words. God, how could she be such a coward?
"I tampered with her blood work," Fitz confessed. Skye's head lifted abruptly and she stared at the man in shock. He nodded at her in reassurance and support and looked back to address the team. "Her actual results were drastically different from her previous blood work."
"What are you talking about?" Jemma whispered in disbelief. Skye could see the denial growing in intensity in her eyes as she looked back and forth between Fitz and Skye. Her eyes stopped on Skye. "Skye – Skye is okay. She's perfectly normal."
Fitz tilted his head a little and looked at Jemma regretfully. "Come on, Jem, you know as well as I do that the blood work's been tampered with."
Jemma shook her head, her gaze remained on Skye. Skye was sure Jemma could see the guilt and apology struggling for dominance on her face. "No." Jemma's voice shook as her chin trembled.
"Can someone tell us what the hell is going on?" Mack exploded.
"As I have said, the woman is of grave danger to us," Sif said.
"You lost your fucking memory. You don't know what the hell you're talking about," Hunter said in defense of Skye.
"Hunter, stop," Skye said, finally finding her voice. She pushed herself to her feet weakly and ran her hand through her hair. "Sif is right. I'm dangerous." She exhaled harshly and closed her eyes. "I don't know what happened to me down at the city. I was covered in rock. Raina was covered in rock. And when the rocks fell away, the whole place was shaking and Trip was falling to pieces right in front of me. And I couldn't…" She shook her head and swallowed. "I thought I could handle it but I couldn't. It's too much."
"Skye?" looking at her as if she was a stranger; as if she was dangerous.
Skye ignored the blow in her chest and laughed humorlessly. The ground beneath her started to shake. "You guys should leave," she said, her voice weak and the tears streaming down her face. "It's gonna happen soon and you guys should leave before it's too late."
Mack actually started to take steps back. Everyone was in disorder and perplexed about this shocking information but none of them seemed to be leaving. Sif was eager to do as Skye said. Currently, Skye was glad Sif and Mack were here.
"Who's doing this?" Coulson asked obtusely, staring at Skye.
"I am," she sobbed, taking a step back. "Leave!" she yelled.
"Are you kidding me?" Bobbie yelled back. "We're not leaving you!"
"I'm with Bobbi," Fitz agreed. "I knew what I was getting into when I lied for you."
"Skye, you can control this," May implored.
"We should be protecting her!" Hunter yelled.
"We're the ones who need protection from her!" Oh, good ol' Mack, always team anti-Skye. Not that she could blame him.
All this time, Skye wished Jemma would say something. But the biochemist had only stared at her with moisturized eyes, bewilderment and terror and anxiety tearing at each other in those hazel orbs. Skye felt as if that alone could tear her apart.
"Skye needs to be eradicated!" Sif said, already approaching Skye in wide strides with her staff at the ready.
Skye closed her eyes, bracing herself. The blow never came. She opened her eyes to see Jemma standing in front of her, back towards her, arms wide in a protective stance. Skye's body tensed with shock. Jemma, who was the most against the whole super-powered thing ever since they came back; who had stared at her with such repugnance, was protecting her.
"Lady Simmons!" Sif bellowed.
"Jem –"
"If you want to hurt her, you gotta get through me first!" Coulson had leaped in front of them both with his gun drawn out. How did he even manage to stuff a gun in his sleepwear, she had no idea.
It was all too much in too short a period. The storm brewing in her stomach had transformed into an all-out hurricane, and it was shown through the rumbling above their heads and the cracks on the ground. She felt as if she couldn't breathe and she stumbled backwards until she hit the wall.
"Skye," Fitz called out. She looked up at him over Jemma's shoulder. "Calm down, Skye."
"Fitz," she cried.
He nodded. "I hear you, Skye. You just…you can do it. I have faith in you."
Her knees bent a fraction and her hands reached up to clutch her head. Voices began to trickle into the crests of her thoughts, filling her mind with so much noise. Donnie, Miles, Mike, Garrett, Ward Raina, her father, Trip; their voices taunting her of the destruction she always brought to the world, encouraging her to create potential extinction, rebuking her for damaging them.
A strangled howl let loose from her throat as everything around her went off (crashing and shaking, crashing and shaking, crashing and shaking, crashing and shaking). The noises, the voices, they all grew louder and louder and they were all laughing and shouting and taunting and Skye was just agreeing with them because yes,
it was her fault.
All of it. Everything. Everyone. Every time.
She did this.
She sank to her knees as everything went dark and the ground split, separating her from her team with five inches of hollowness. And then it stopped. The backup lights wouldn't even turn on. That was how dangerous she was.
She opened her eyes slowly, panting. Her vision was engulfed in darkness. Her head was quiet, like they had all known they had pushed her to her limit, quaked her in her very core and their job was done.
A few quiet moments passed by where the air was teeming with panic and fear and wariness and predation before her eyes got used to the darkness and she could make out the figures of her team standing in different places, scattered all over. And obviously she wasn't the only one who could kind of see now because suddenly someone was in front of her and grabbing her face and she just knew by the touch that it was Jemma.
"Why are you touching me?" was the first thing that came out of her mouth. She wanted to push Jemma away but she was frozen to the spot. "I'm a monster. I should be eradicated."
She could picture the wince coming across Jemma's face and she wanted to tell the older woman that she was right; she shouldn't feel guilty. Eradication was the only option.
"We're not eradicating you, Skye," Jemma whispered, her voice tinged with gentle plea and guilt.
"Aren't we?" Mack voiced aloud.
"Shut up, Mackenzie," Hunter admonished.
"No! Look at what she's done!"
"She just needs to learn to control it!" Coulson stated.
"She could have killed us!"
"She didn't," May said, her voice calm as ever but there was a layer of anger brewing underneath all that calm.
And then they were fighting again but Skye could only see Jemma. And Jemma was quiet. "Jemma," she said quietly after awhile.
Jemma hummed. By the choked tone of her voice, Skye knew the woman was crying.
"I love you," she confessed. Jemma whimpered. "I am in love with you." God, she never expected that the revelation of her feelings for the biochemist would be at a moment like this. But she's made a decision. And she just needed the woman to know that she loved her before she executed her decision.
"I love you too," Jemma choked out. Skye exhaled in…relief? She didn't even know. Jemma sounded defeated, as if she knew what Skye was going to do. "Please don't do this."
"I'm sorry," Skye whispered.
And then she pushed herself to her knees and pressed a hard kiss to Jemma's hairline, breathing in the raspberry and lavender that were exclusively Jemma. As she did so, she randomly reached out for a piece of rubble and knocked it hard against the back of Jemma's head, resounding a loud thwack that had alerted at least some of them because they were calling her name. Her left arm encircled Jemma automatically as the woman fell into a heap in her arms.
"I'm sorry," she repeated, kissed Jemma on the head again and then stood up and left.
She found her way to her bunk and managed to stuff all her clothes – her wardrobe had only consisted of dark T-shirts, cargo pants, a few jackets and her combat gear these days – into a duffle bag. She swiped all the framed photos into the duffle bag as well and zipped it up. Then she shoved her laptop, her tablet, her SHIELD-issued cellphone and a couple of books Jemma had lent her into a backpack.
Flashlights were flashing down the hallway, heading towards her, when she came out, ready to go. She could hear Bobbi and Hunter calling her name time and time again and she fought the clingy urge in her to respond to their calls and leap into their arms. She couldn't do that. She couldn't put them in risk again.
They were the closest people she had to a family, as abnormal and out of sorts as they were.
She couldn't risk killing her family because she couldn't get her shit together.
So she turned the other way and walked away as tears made tracks down her face.
First crime she'd committed since she'd switch her loyalty fully to SHIELD: steal a car. Not just any car. A SHIELD-issued SUV with all the features and all the toys. She stole one and drove it out of the garage. Of course, while driving one-handed, she'd used the other hand holding her cellphone to disable the tracking system in the car and basically anything that could enable them to track her – including the device in her hand.
She was surprised she was able to drive with her watery vision which was really the worst condition to drive.
She didn't know how long she'd driven. But her eyes had dried and she'd definitely floored it, putting as much distance between her and the Playground as she could, resisting the longing in basically every single one of her cell to go back to them.
When she'd reached a rundown motel where one of the letters in the sign "MOTEL" had gone out, it was already five in the morning on the dot. She killed the engine and leaned back against the seat, closing her eyes for the first time in god knows how many hours. She could hear herself breathing heavily and the adrenaline in her had seemed to die down in the period that she'd been driving.
She still felt her elements warring inside her but they didn't seem to be fighting to break out and destroy the world again. She wondered if she remembered to grab her stash of money – not much, but enough – when she'd hurried to escape the Playground.
She looked into the duffle and dug around and chuckled to herself when she saw a gun in it. Somehow, she'd remembered to pack a gun. But she didn't remember to grab her money. Guess she'd spent too much time getting used to not having to pay for groceries or even a place to sleep. She sighed and stared at the gun, deciding to what to do with it.
And then a text came to her phone.
You forgot money. It read Fitz's number.
She couldn't help but grin, as unsuitable to the situation as it was, because Fitz had managed to make it sound so lighthearted when everything was just undeniably heavy and depressing.
She didn't intend to reply so she put it back into her pocket and got out of the car, with her duffle and her backpack in tow.
She supposed she would have to commit two more crimes today.
She entered the main building and immediately draw out her gun to aim it at the boy sitting behind the reception counter. He was flipping through a porno magazine and she could barely curl her lip in disgust. He was so absorbed in it that he didn't even notice a lady pointing a loaded gun at him.
"Hey!"
He looked up and jumped, almost yelped. The magazine flew out of his hands in a comical nature. "I don't have any money!" he said, his voice an octave higher than what she assumed was his voice.
"I need a place to sleep," she said. "For just one night."
"That'll cost –" he dumbly replied.
"For free!" she interrupted. He gulped and nodded vigorously. "And give me all the money you have in that cash machine."
"No, I can't. My boss is going to kill me."
She smiled sweetly at him as her thumb moved to pull on the safety. She wasn't actually going to shoot him of course. If he knew enough, he would know that she wasn't even holding the thing right.
He nodded again, scrambling to the cash machine and opening it. "Yes, yes, take it all. Take it all, please!"
She took all the cash and the change, probably enough for her to survive two weeks. And then she shoved the gun down the back of her jeans and held her hand out.
"Key, please. Oh, and you don't want to call the cops. Because I assure you, I'll be able to blow your head out and get out of here before they can even get ahold of me. Capisce?"
He nodded again. She was certain he was going to nod his head off if he kept it going. She thanked him when he handed her a key and went up to her room.
Come back.
Damn it, Skye, let me track you.
We're worried sick about you.
Simmons worried sickest about you.
She almost wanted to reply, telling him that that wasn't even grammatically correct. But she didn't. And she knew what he meant, and she wished she didn't know; she also wished he did not send that last text. It made her want to go back more. And she couldn't afford to go back.
She slept for four hours, all four hours of it filled with nightmares of her losing control and killing everyone she cared about; nightmares of her father coming back and taking her with that lunatic smile of his; nightmares of Ward taunting her and kidnapping her and doing unfathomable things to her.
She was so tired. But she knew she had to get a move on.
She did promise she'd only stay for one night, after all.
She brushed her teeth and showered. While she was at it, she managed to crack the mirror a bit without even touching it. She couldn't afford to cry anymore so she reined it in and pretended nothing happened.
She reined it in and pretended she did not miss anyone – especially Jemma – at all.
But she knew damn well she was lying to herself.
She couldn't use the GPS on her phone because she couldn't turn on location service on her phone because she knew that by turning on location service it would enable them to track her and her leaving would all be for nothing.
So, conclusion was, she couldn't use the GPS on her phone.
Which was why she was sitting in a diner with an empty plate where there used to be scrambled egg and mashed potato in front of her, staring intensely at a map. One would think that since she was so good at analyzing a GPS, a map wouldn't be too hard.
Well, one would be wrong.
She couldn't figure out north from south, west from east. It was a mess. She didn't even know where she was on the map. Was the place she was in even on the map?
Her frustrations had obviously been so much that the glass, half-filled with milk, began to shake on the table. She quickly made a grab at it and looked around to see if anyone saw that little stint. One heavy guy sitting at the bar was staring at her with an indescribable look on his face, a beer in his hand.
She decided it was high time she left. She left the map behind, resolving that she would just go wherever the road led her to.
Skye took another two stops before she reached another motel three hours later: a petrol station for fuel and another diner for dinner.
Seeing that she had money now from her robbing stint last night, she didn't have to rob again. And this motel was a whole lot better than the one she stayed in last night. At least the bed in her room didn't have a white stain on it and there weren't roaches in the bathroom.
She set up her laptop on her lap as she sat on the bed and booted it on. First thing she did was turned off tracking system and location service. And then she went on YouTube, Reddit, Tumblr and such to search for news on mysterious seismic incidents near the Playground.
There wasn't anything except a few not-so-exaggerated reports regarding the night she'd left.
Then she went on to search for news related to robbery or freeloading at the motel she'd stayed in last night.
"Son of a bitch," she cursed.
She couldn't really blame the boy for reporting to the police the minute she'd left but seriously? If only he knew the situation she was in and what she was capable of, she'd bet he wouldn't even dare say the word 'robbery' for a year. It was a miracle that no cops found her at the diner because it wasn't really that far from the motel.
But then she saw a candid shot of the scene and she knew why.
There they were, Coulson and May and basically everyone at the scene, flashing their fake cop badges at everyone. Jemma had a frantic look on her face and it practically resembled a knife slicing across Skye's heart again.
She shut the lid before she looked any further and forced herself to put the laptop away.
She leaned back against the headboard and took deep, deep breaths. But she couldn't stop it when the lamp fell from the bedside table and crashed to the floor. She couldn't stop it when the chair at the desk toppled over. She couldn't stop it when the entire building blacked out.
She couldn't stop it.
Because Jemma Simmons was her catalyst.
She was awakened by a knock on her door. She sprang to her feet, her hand holding the gun she'd put under here pillow. She couldn't care less that she was dressed in her tank top and a pair of boxers she'd stolen from Fitz. She crept towards the door and stood against the wall by the door, her hand warily twisting the knob and opening it.
A man, probably in his thirties, with dirty blonde hair and stubble, at least six feet tall, was standing there with a smirk.
"Hello, I'm Lincoln."
She swung the door wide and swung a punch at his face.
She tied him up to a chair and held the provided kettle in her hand. She knew it wasn't an ideal weapon but May had taught her to improvise with surrounding objects. She sat on the bed, facing the guy who called himself Lincoln and still was pretty knocked out.
The first sign of him regaining consciousness was a slight twitch of his left leg. And then he opened his eyes slowly, lifting his head from hanging over the back of the chair and looked around him with a squint and a frown.
"Who the hell are you?" she spat.
He cleared his throat and swallowed, blinking a few times to clear his vision. "Can I at least have some water?"
"No."
He licked his lips and nodded. What was weird about him was that he did not look afraid at all; in fact, he looked like he expected this to happen. "Very well, then. Like I told you, my name is Lincoln."
She raised her brows skeptically. "Just Lincoln?"
"Like how you're just Skye," he drawled.
She stood up in alert, her eyes wide and the kettle at the ready. "How do you know my name?"
"I know a lot of things about you, sweetheart," he said.
"Don't call me that," she sneered. "You're not as simple as you look."
He looked up at her with shit eating grin. "You guessed right. And neither are you." He looked back and then back to her. "Look, I'm not going to hurt you. So can you please untie me? It's chafing."
"Sure, right after I strip dance for you."
He looked her from toe to head with no avail and then whistled. "Will you really?"
She frowned. What the hell was this guy? "No."
He rolled his eyes and released an exaggerated sigh. "Whatever," he muttered. She watched as he closed his eyes and frowned slightly, seemingly concentrated on something. And then a moment later, that smirk returned and he opened his eyes. "Wanna see something amazing?"
"You're tied to a chair. You can't show me anything," she deadpanned.
He winked. "Wanna bet?" Before she could retort, he moved his hands and miraculously, they were untied and free. He rolled his shoulders and stood up, spun around in a show-off attitude. "Ta-da!"
"What the fuck?" she said aloud.
He chuckled throatily and rubbed at his wrists. "Like I said, I'm just Lincoln, just like you're just Skye."
She stared up at him for a few frozen minutes as his words finally went through the processor in her head. And then she blinked, a new shine coming to her eyes.
"Finally got it, huh? It's okay, beautiful, I'll show you the way."
Lincoln had the ability to turn himself into particles, except she could still see him as a solid – she just couldn't touch him – and he would be able to walk through walls or pass his hand over the middle of chair. By being able to turn himself into billions and billions of particles, he was capable of transporting himself between China and United States of America in a matter of seconds.
"I still choose to drive or the plane, because using powers can be exhausting. It's the same for all of us," he explained.
"Us?" she queried.
He smacked his lips. "There are more of our kind, all with different powers. We're just more skilled in staying inconspicuous and anonymous. It comes with practice and time," he said.
She looked down at her hands. "How do I know you're not one of Hydra?" she asked.
He leaned forward, propped his elbows on his knees and reached out to take her hand. "You'll just have to trust me."
She looked up and into his clear blue eyes. She tried to look for a hint that would tell her that he wasn't at all sincere in the quest he claimed was to help her in the name of her mother, who had apparently helped him with his powers twenty years ago when he was just ten. But she found nothing.
All she found was an all-out sincerity and a tinge of lust.
He was handsome, devastatingly so. Well-built. Only her heart wasn't available. She didn't feel anything towards him, because she felt everything for a biochemist back in the Playground, hundreds of miles away.
"Okay," she whispered.
"I believe you know a certain female called Raina," he said as he drove towards their 'base', or so he said.
She looked up, alarmed. "How do you know about her?"
He grinned. "You're gonna see a lot more of her in the future," he told her.
"What?"
"She's one of us, Skye. And it doesn't matter how you hate her, you still have to work with her. Well, at least until you've honed your powers and you get to decide what to do next. Either you stay with us, or you go out and get your own life and not harm anymore people."
She gulped as another option floated in her mind.
"Or you go back to your people," he added.
She stayed quiet.
"They're looking for you."
Silence.
Lincoln's base was a warehouse, renovated and refurnished into a multi-unit base with a communal living room, a kitchen, a target-training room, twenty rooms for meditation and training, and thirty-one bunks.
"There are already ten bunks filled. We didn't know how many more of us there is out there so we've got spares. Hopefully, this place won't be filled up," he said as he lifted her duffle from the trunk and gave her the backpack. It was already dark when they've reached here.
"What? You don't want your population to grow and strive?" she said dryly.
"Our population," he corrected, giving her a look. She sighed in resignation. "And no, we don't want that to happen."
"Why?"
He looked back at her but didn't answer. He took out a bunch of keys from his back pocket and unlocked the key of the main door, pushing it open.
Apparently, they even had space for a foyer. They must have an architecture in their midst to be able to turn this warehouse into…not-warehouse. Her eyes slowly took in the portraits lining up the twin staircases on each side of the room. An Asian woman's portrait caught her eyes, situated at the top of the left staircase.
As if he knew what caught her eye, he said, "That's your mother."
Inadvertently, she climbed the steps until she was standing right in front of the portrait. The woman was very obviously tall, dressed in a pink silk blouse and a grey pencil skirt, her hair tied up in a messy ponytail and a gentle smile on her face. Her eyes emanated nothing but warmth and fondness.
This woman was her mother.
"She's beautiful," she said, her voice laced with longing and sadness, her eyes welled up. "She's my mother."
"Her name was Jia Ying." She turned to see Lincoln staring her with an almost similar tenderness. For once, his smile was genuinely gentle. "She loved you very much."
She whispered her mother's name, feeling the roll of her tongue and the vibrations of her voice in the crests of her mouth.
"Mom," she whispered in the end, because that was what felt closest to her heart.
As she stared at the portrait of her mother – Jia Ying, Mom – she felt as if the portrait was smiling back at her, welcoming her back.
She didn't get much sleep. Lincoln had taken her to her bunk, which was more like a room, right across from his and bade goodnight before he left her to her own devise.
She left the duffle he'd put on the armchair, on the armchair. Her backpack joined her duffle. And then she's collapsed face-down on the single bed and cried into the pillows. She hadn't cried since the night she left. She'd kept it all bottled up, cork screwed so tight at the lip that she hadn't had space to breathe.
She hadn't allowed herself space to breathe.
She was scared. She was scared of her powers. She was scared of what she could do. She was scared of the fact that she could literally bring down a whole city without much effort at all; without even knowing. She was scared for her team. She was scared for Jemma.
She was downright terrified and there was no one to share with until Lincoln came along.
But she didn't even know him that well so how was she supposed to share with him? He was a stranger who claimed to want to help her and knew her mother and liked her in a more than platonic way.
"Manscaping," she whispered into her pillow.
"You."
Skye's eyes lifted from her breakfast – which she hadn't eaten one bite of – and saw a spiky hooded woman glaring at her, mouth curled in obvious anger. It took her a moment to recognize the woman and she gasped.
"Raina."
"What are you doing here?" Raina hissed.
Skye couldn't take her eyes off her as she took in the spikes and thorns that had literally grown right out of Raina's skin, her eyes the hue of a cat. "Um…Lincoln brought me in." Even though he'd told her about Raina being here, she couldn't help but be surprised.
Raina's eyes narrowed. Skye stood up slowly when Raina looked ready to lunge at her and Skye really didn't want to be punctured.
"Now, now, Raina, what did I tell you about playing nice?" an eyeless man drawled as he emerged from behind Raina with Lincoln next to him.
Lincoln shouldered past the two people and stood next to Skye in a protective stance. "You alright?" She nodded. He nodded and relaxed. "Skye, this is Gordon."
Gordon smiled, facing her directly, as if he could see where she was. "Hello, Skye. Heard a lot about you," he greeted. "Raina, be nice," he chastised.
"She took what was mine," Raina seethed.
"Ah ah ah," Gordon disagreed. "You are both what you are. She got what was hers and you got what was yours. It's all fair and square."
Lincoln hummed in agreement. "And we don't tolerate in-house fighting here so you two best keep your spikes and your shakes to yourselves. You're here to learn and we're here to help you."
As Gordon led Raina away and Lincoln sat her back down on the bench to eat her breakfast, she wished that Jemma was here to ramble about random stuff just to bring a smile to Skye's face.
She spent most of the first two months in the meditation and training room. Lincoln had put her on her ass right in the middle of the room and asked her to clear her mind and search deep within herself, whatever the hell that meant. The first few times didn't work so well because she ended up shaking the place mildly.
"Don't worry. They won't know. There's someone among us who can conceal the happenings in here, in here," Lincoln had reassured.
That person was a woman in a wheelchair named Phyllis. Her abilities were to conceal and hide the true happenings from a normal human being's eyes. When she was six, she had a big fight with her mother who couldn't understand her abnormality and ran out of her house. She dropped in the middle of the road and she couldn't control her powers so she managed to conceal herself from a truck driver and he managed to ram into her, breaking her legs.
The buzz that the daughter of the woman who started this whole thing had spread in the warehouse relatively quickly, given that there were only ten occupants here – now twelve given the addition of her and Raina. And they had introduced themselves and given her a warm welcome, treating her like a best friend instead of a newbie.
There was Peter, who was more like psychic and could control people's thoughts.
And James, who was a healer, and had an extra eye on his forehead which he said could see everything.
Gina had wings and swords growing out of her wrists. Dong-Hoon could read people's minds. Venus could heal people, no matter how fatal. Macy could control anything liquid, so she could literally flood a place within a matter of seconds, just like how Skye could bring an earthquake and bring a city down.
The only person who wasn't like them was an old Asian man who had to walk with a cane and was always dressed in a blue shirt and a pair of white dress pants. They called him Uncle Po and he was their human mentor.
"He's like a father, even though he's not like us. His wisdom is incomparable. He helps break fights. He makes the rules. Your mother used to be the leader but after she was gone, he took the role without hesitation, calming the chaos and leading us, setting us back on the right track. No one dares to raise a finger to him and no one should."
She concentrated on the empty tin in front of her, willing it to shake to her will. She dug deep into her mind, found the focal point as Lincoln had instructed, gentled the focal point, emitted her instructions and gasped as the can shook off the edge of the table.
She grinned and leaped up with a shriek of joy. "I did it!"
Lincoln leaped up from in front of her and joined her. "You did it!"
She wrapped her arms around him and leaped up, wrapping her legs around his waist as he spun her around the room. They both laughed in joy at her recent success. For the first time, Skye felt joy filling her heart. She was proud of herself. She was glad to know that she could learn to control this.
As he put her down, she smiled up at him and patted his shoulder haughtily. "Thank you."
He smiled. "You're welcome."
They stared at each other in silence as tension began to build in the air. She watched his eyes flickered to her lips and then back to her eyes. And then cautiously, he leaned down. She drew back before their lips could touch.
"You know I don't like you that way," she whispered, warning him in advance.
"And you know I don't like you that way either," he replied.
She knew. He was in love with Phyllis. Everyone could see it. And Phyllis was in love with him. But for some reason, they weren't together.
She sighed. "Oh what the hell." she muttered to herself and leaned up on her toes to kiss him.
It took her four months to completely hone her skills and be proud of what she could do. It took her five months for them – the Inhuman, as she learned what they called themselves – to allow her to go on the field with them and assist law enforcement teams surreptitiously to save the world.
The first time she went out, she went with Raina. Gordon and Lincoln had said that they needed to work on their teamwork and there was no better way to work on it than like this. And the first time she went out, SHIELD was in on the mission too.
Skye managed to crack the ground slightly and split the vehicle the infiltrators were going to escape in, in half. Raina had 'carelessly' sent a spike down the thigh of one of them, slowing their progress. They smiled at each other, finally feeling the camaraderie building within them, and went to hide in the trees, waiting for CIA or FBI or even just the police force to come.
What came had made Skye freeze.
She would recognize Lola anywhere, followed by a SHIELD-issued SUV. Coulson and May climbed out of Lola while Hunter, Bobbi and Fitz climbed out of the SUV. Jemma and Mack were nowhere to be seen.
She watched as they approached the two men on the other side of cracked ground. Hunter was staring at the crack while Bobbi was examining the split vehicle. Fitz was standing there with his hands clasped at the back of his neck, his briefcase dropped at his feet.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Coulson asked May as he surveyed the surroundings, not giving one glance at Skye and Raina who were hidden quite well in the trees.
May looked around her, her lip between her teeth. Skye had never seen May so anxious and hopeful. "It can't be," she said quietly.
"It is," Fitz exclaimed. He hurried towards the crack and examined it and then looked to the vehicle. A hopeful grin appeared on his face. "It is," he repeated. "I have to tell Jemma!"
Skye grabbed onto Raina's arm, having already coated it in hardened dirt so she wouldn't get spiked accidentally. Raina looked to her warily.
"Let's get out of here," she whispered.
Raina nodded, her eyes morphing into a considerate and sympathetic shade. They dropped to the ground in sync, crunching the fallen leaves and branches.
"Skye?" Coulson called.
Skye swallowed and refused to look back. Instead, she nudged Raina and they ran together.
She isolated herself in her room for two hours. And then spent one hour target training. And another hour in a room, destroying it completely and utterly.
"You alright?" Raina asked as she seated herself next to Skye in the communal living room.
Skye looked to her and downed the rest of her Budlight. "No."
The following four months passed by in a blur. She and Raina decided to stay with them all. She'd grown close to all of them, knowing that although they weren't as much a family as her team back in the Playground was, they were still hers.
She'd also seen Coulson and the rest more than a few times on various missions. She'd seen everyone, cried over everyone, except Jemma. She hadn't seen Jemma at all. She let herself worry over Jemma. She let herself miss Jemma. She let herself dream of Jemma.
Because she hadn't seen Jemma at all.
She watched Lincoln and Phyllis do this dance with each other for another month before she got completely exhausted of it and tricked them into her room and locked them in it. Seeing as Lincoln didn't use his ability to get out and judging by their tousled hairs and cheeky grins, she knew her effort had bore fruit.
Just because she didn't get her happy ending didn't mean he shouldn't.
A year.
A year and then they found her.
She hadn't exactly been hiding herself this time. She was on this mission, handling it solo. And when she saw Jemma, the reaction was unlike others. She toppled off the branch she'd been perching on and dropped onto the ground very ungracefully.
Just when she was about to make a quick escape, she heard, "Skye?"
If it were anyone, she would have ran away anyway and not give them a glance. But this wasn't anyone. This wasn't. This wasn't just Coulson or May or anyone else.
"Skye, please," she sobbed.
Skye lowered her arms in resignation and closed her eyes, lifting her eyes to face the sky as she took deep breaths. And then she turned around and faced Jemma. "Hi," she whispered.
Jemma was crying. She was actually weeping. Her chin was trembling and her eyes wouldn't stop leaking tears. Skye wanted so much to reach out and take her in her arms and tell her everything was fine just like in the movies.
This wasn't a movie, though. This was real life. She left. And now they found her. And she didn't know what do.
"Hi?" Jemma choked. "Hi?" Jemma scoffed and she sprinted towards Skye that it took her aback. And then she pushed Skye so hard that she toppled backwards. Jemma pushed again and Skye understood. "You left for a year and all you have to say is hi?" she shrieked.
Skye looked down at the biochemist with regret. Her heart ached as she saw how torn apart Jemma looked. She wanted to cradle Jemma's face and wipe away her tears. She wanted to get rid of how exhausted and pale Jemma looked. She had no words though.
"Do you have any idea what we've been through? What I've been through?" Jemma shouted, her voice echoing in the woods.
Skye watched as the rest of the team gathered behind Jemma, flanking her. "I did what I had to do," Skye said.
"You left!"
"If I didn't, you all would have been killed!" Skye retorted.
"We could have helped you!"
"You can't!" Skye grunted and clenched her fists, calming the emotions in her. "This thing inside me, this power I possess, it's just like Fitz said, it's inhuman. You couldn't have helped me, because you don't understand how it works. You'll never understand."
"Oh that's just swell," Jemma scoffed, her voice thick with tears.
"Jemma!" Skye pronounced, gritting her teeth. Jemma looked to her, her eyes cold and stern. "Please," Skye begged. "This is not how I imagined it would go."
"Because you've never intended to let us see you," Jemma sneered. Skye winced. "You've helped us with more than ten cases for the past four months, and yet we never got a glimpse of you."
"You were never even at those places to begin with," Skye murmured.
Jemma's jaw clenched. "Because I was in pain, Skye," she said slowly after minutes of tense silence. "You left. I felt empty and alone. Fitz and everyone were there to help me and I'm grateful but I…I couldn't help it. I missed you! I missed you so much that it drove me sick. I developed appendicitis because of you. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't do anything right. And five months later, Fitz tells me that you're back. You were helping them. I couldn't…I couldn't bring my hopes up because we looked for you and you weren't anywhere. You robbed a damn motel and you disappeared into thin air!" Jemma threw her arms up, deflated. "This time, I told myself that if I didn't see you, I wouldn't hope anymore. But then you're here, in the freaking flesh, and you tell me hi!"
"This was a mistake," Skye said, ignoring the way her heart was breaking piece by piece with each and every one of Jemma's words. They echoed in Skye's head.
Jemma nodded in agreement, deflecting Skye's gaze. "It was."
Skye sighed and turned around. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
And she left, leaving a tear-streaked Jemma in her wake, while her own heart shattered into pieces in the hollow of her chest.
yes it's a cliffhanger. i did it on purpose. i intend to do a series following this, not following canon after this. canon divergence, that's what they're called, right? or no? anyway, don't worry. more to come!
