It mystifies her how they always feel and seem so real.
It was dark and cold and the whole little village seemed to be asleep. I walked along the small dirt street and looked at every little house, turning my head to look on the left and then on the right. There were no lights coming from any of the windows, no sound, no nothing. For a second I thought it was strange, but then that idea left quickly and was replaced with the notion that this is how it always is. I stop when I come to the end of the street where it split into a four way intersection. I stand in the middle and look up and watch as tiny little snowflakes seem to just randomly appear in the dark black sky and then fall. This place felt familiar, but I couldn't recall any actually memories. Yet, I knew had to turn left and walk down the next small dirt street. I wanted to walk faster, but no matter how hard I thought it, I could not get my body to comply. Soon I found myself pulling open a door and stepping inside a small house. It was practically empty, with just a ratty old dark green couch and some lit candles scattered around on the floor. I felt like home. It had that comfy warmth to it. I turn and walk down a narrow hallway, dead focused on the door at the end. Pictures hung on the wall that I see only in my peripheral vision, and never before me, blur as walk swiftly past them and to the door. I walk through it, never actually opening it, and find myself in yet another empty room.I don't even register the change, but my perspective shifts, and I now see myself in the doorway of the room. I don't even realize that it's me really; I just see the figure as some person I know. She, me, looks frustrated and upset. Her hair is pulled back into a wavy ponytail. She is wearing dark jeans, black combat boots, and grey shirt masked by a large black bullet proof vest. She holds a gun in by her side and shakes it nervously. She charges forward, past me, and I am left staring at the doorway. I turn around to find myself back in the main room I had entered into originally. It doesn't strike me as odd at all, but the other version of me isn't there anymore.
"There you are!" A guy said who had just appeared on the couch. I felt like I knew him, but I had never seen his face before. He gets up and walks over to me. "I was worried about you," he says as he pulls me into a hug. I wrap my arms around him and burry my head into the crook of his neck. He was tall, a good tall. He smelt nice, like mint, it was familiar. A name popped into my and lingered there like a sweet memory: Miles. But he wasn't Miles, he did not look anything like Miles. The man separated us and stared at me, but I didn't stare directly back. Instead I stared past him and at a lady that stood by the wall. It was pretty dark, but I could still make out her appearance.
A name slipped out of my mouth. "Agent Avery?" I whispered.
She nodded, turned around, and exited a door that I had not noticed before. I wanted to follow her; no I needed to follow her. I tried to push past the guy that smelled like Miles, but he didn't really allow for it. He grabbed my arm as I walked past and kept me from moving forward.
"Where are you going?"
"I need to follow her."
"No, no stay with me. Please don't go yet."
I give a little tug. "But, that's her, that's Agent Avery."
"Skye, please don't. You don't have to follow her."
"Yes, I do." With a tug, I get my arm out of his grasp and run through the door. I find myself under a bridge with Agent Avery. Her back is to me. She is staring at something I can't see. I move to her side and in the dark it is hard to make out what she is staring at, but when I look at her face see seems shocked. At first it just looks like a pile of blankets or something, but then she reaches down and removes the top layer and what it actually is, was disheartening. I felt a pain of guilt in my chest and my heart began to race. Agent Avery had uncovered the head of battered, bruised, and bloody African American man. He was dead no doubt. She moved further down in what I thought had been a pile of blankets, and moves another one. Underneath this one was a bloody baby. I felt my heart skip a beat and tears that were not there before fell down my cheeks. Agent Avery bent down and picked up the bloody bundle and shook her head.
"Dammit," She said quietly as she passed the baby to me, "We were too late."
She walks off and leaves me with the bloody dead child in my arms all alone.I turn my head to see where she exactly went, but she has vanished. I look down at the baby and wonder what could have happened. Suddenly, the child's eyes begin to open and she stirs in my arms. Tremendous joy washes over me as the baby lets out a soft cry. "You're alive." I whisper as I stare down at her bloody, but alive form. I rock back and forth to soothe her cries, but it is little use. But honestly, I felt like she could cry forever because if she was crying she was alive, and alive was amazing.
BANG.
There was a haunting ring to it that made everything go silent.
Then there was the feeling: a feeling in my back that was like a dull concentrated ache, as if someone was poking me hard in one spot. The next thing I know I am lying face down on the ground in a wet warm sticky pool of my own blood, yet I was completely conscious, I just couldn't move. The ache was gone only to be replaced by an intense feeling of worry in my heart, as I darted my eyes around to find the baby girl I had been holding. She was a few feet away, eyes closed, not crying, not moving.
No. She can't be.
I reach my arm out to grab her, but I fall short. I can't get her.
"Please," I hear myself say.
She turns to dust and blows away in the wind, leaving me there to die alone. I curl up in a ball and shut my eyes, wanting it all to be over and when I open them after a minute, I was back on the bus in my bunk's bed. I felt instant relief. Pulling the covers aside, I get up out of bed and slide my door to my bunk open. At first I had thought that my bunk was dark because I was sleeping, the lights would be off, but when I stepped outside and into the common space I realized I was wrong.
All the lights on the bus were off, minus the orange emergency lights scattered about. That could not be good. I walk over to the other bunks only to find them all empty. Strange.
I call out there names. "Ward? Fitzsimmons?" I walk into the kitchen, just to find it as barren as the rest of the bus. "Hello? Guys?" I get no answer, but then there is this sound. It was a baby crying. I follow it to the staircase where it seems to be at its loudest. Maybe they are all down in the cargo hold?
I walk down the spiral staircase, the crying getting louder and louder, and with every step the surrounding area became a little brighter, until I was on a different staircase all together leading down to a door. I place my hand on the door knob, and push to open it, only to have it be pulled open at the same time from the other side. The crying stopped and I look up to see my other self again, worry and anger apparent on her face. She turns around and back into the room and I follow only to regret it a second later when I hear a gun shot. I look over to the right at my duplicate self and see her dead still, one arm raised to her stomach. She stairs dead ahead at a man, a small gun held high in his hand.
Ian Quinn. The name is like bad after taste, if that's even possible.
My heart begins to beat faster as I watch him slowly walk closer to her, gun still in hand. I had this feeling like I knew what was going to happen next, and it was nothing good. I needed to stop him. My other self crumbles into his embrace as he holds her, supporting her small body from falling onto the cold dirty cement floor. I step closer to them. I need to stop him, but it is too late. She tries to say something, but all that comes out is a choking sound of gargled blood. He whispers something in her ear and another shot rings out, this one slightly more muffled, her body acting as a natural silencer.
I stop, only centimeters away from the pair. No. I was too late. I didn't stop him. Quinn gently lowers her to the floor, as if he actually cared for her, and then turns toward me. I look at him and he just smiles.
"All done."
"you killed her…." I say as I stare down at her bloody body on the floor.
"You watched," Quinn replies back. "That's basically helping."
Her eyes flutter open and I realize she isn't dead. No, she is worse, she is dying. Dying a slow, painful, agonizing death and it won't even consider giving in to make it all stop. For a moment as I look at her, our eyes meet and all I can think is I'm sorry.
"Well if you're just going to keep standing here, take the gun and finish off the rest of them. I don't want to get my suit dirty."
For some reason I nod. "Yeah," I say softly and hold out my hand for the gun. Quinn hands it over with a smile and brushes past me.
"Have fun," he says as I watch him shut the door to the basement room leaving me and my dying other self alone. I look at her and then around the fairly bright room and decide to sit on the metal table that was situated in the middle of the space. I hop up onto it and look down at the other me and watch as she pulls herself across the floor to the wall, leaving a blood trail in her wake. Although she went at turtle's pace she wasn't giving up. I look down at the small blood stained gun in my hands, and some part of me feels at ease. I wasn't quite as upset or scared or mad. I was just kind of peaceful. I look back down at my duplicate and notice she has gotten pretty far across the floor. She had managed to prop herself up onto the wall closest to the door. She was in pain. It was easy to see, but she reached out and grabbed the door knob and twisted it open. I heard her let out a cry for help, but I didn't move. I had a different job now and I waited for it to be set in motion. Soon enough I saw Coulson barge through the doors and kneel down next to her practically dead body and yell loudly for Simmons. Everything was now in motion. Coulson looked directly at me, but said nothing, he focused instead on the dying me, the one he cradled in his arms and whispered for her to hang on. Only a minute later the rest of the team came through the door and I sighed as I slid off the metal and stood before them. They didn't notice my change in position; they had their backs to me, all looking at the dying Skye, not the live one. I felt the gun kickback in my hand as I pulled the trigger. May went down immediately, that's what a head shot will do to you though. They all noticed me now and turned around.When I saw their faces I almost let the gun go. They looked betrayed. Hurt.
"Skye please don't." Simmons said softly.
"You don't know what you're doing Skye." Fitz said.
"I'm sorry," I said and raised the gun again.
"SKYE NO-" I hear Ward yell, but it had little effect on my actions.
The gun went off twice this time. One bullet left the barrel followed immediately by another. Coulson and Fitz drop to the floor as Simmons lets out a shriek of horror. I look at Ward and he shakes his head. He seemed so disappointed.
When I break his gaze I see it is now just me, Simmons, and Ward. Everyone else had vanished, even the other duplicate me. It made sense, they were dead. I had killed them. We now stood in the cargo hold of the bus. I still had the gun in my hand, but now down by my side. Ward and Simmons stood in front of me, both looking very angry and sad.
"How could you Skye? I thought we were your friends?" Simmons asked me.
I couldn't find an answer. They both stepped closer to me and I stepped backwards.
"Why?" Ward asked.
"I- I don't know. Please don't be mad." I tell him.
They step closer, I step back.
"We don't want you hear anymore. We don't want to be your family anymore." Simmons softly says.
"What? No? …..I'm Sorry…I didn't mean to..." I stutter out.
They step closer, I step back. The open cargo door was getting closer and closer.
"You're not our family. You killed our family." Ward says with diction.
"I- I can bring them back. I can fix this." I say.
They step closer I step back. I feel the wind on my back.
"No Skye, you can't. They are dead and soon you will be too," Simmons tells me.
I don't even reply, I just look at both of them, trying to show as much regret on my face.
They step closer, I step back. I can feel my heart beating out of my chest.
"Please no." I whisper.
They step closer and I step back practically at the edge of the cargo hold.
"I'm sorry!…Please don't!" I yell over the wind that was at my back.
They just shake their heads.
"Were sorry too." Ward says as he gives me a good push and I fall backward.
"NOOOO!" I hear myself say as I fall through the sky, watching as Simmons and Ward who stood at the edge of the cargo door, get smaller and smaller.
I wake with a start. The feeling of falling still fresh, the remnants of the scream of "no" still in my throat. The door to my bunk slides open and the light flicks on. My eyes take a second to react to the change in light, but I soon realize it is Ward, standing in the doorway looking worried. His gun was up and stance tactical, ready to fight an unknown assailant. He lowers it upon seeing that I am alone in my bunk, curled up in the covers of my bed.
"What's wrong? I heard you screaming?" He asks taking a step in.
"Just a nightmare. Sorry Robot you can go back to bed." I tell him with a weak smile.
"Are you sure you're all right?"
I am about to give him an answer when I see a sleepy Simmons appear behind him.
"Is everything all right?" She asks moving into my bunk next to Ward. "I thought I heard a scream," she says with a yawn.
Seeing them both standing there made a shiver run up my spine. It was just like in my dream. Just like before they had killed me. But that was a dream, not really life, they wouldn't hurt me ever.
"Yeah," I say as I rub my face with my hands trying to shake get the leftover images of the dream out of my head and wake up a little more. "It was just a nightmare. I'm fine. Don't worry. You both can go back to bed. Sorry I woke you guys up."
With a small grumble and a slight wave of his gun, Ward leaves my bunk and heads back to bed.
"Would you like me to make you some tea perhaps? It always helps me after I have a bad dream." Simmons offers sweetly, but I decline.
"No thanks, I think I am just going to go back to sleep. Try to get a few more hours in before morning. Thanks though."
She nods bids me a good night and exits my bunk, sliding the door shut behind her. I lie back down in bed and stare up at the ceiling. There was no way I was going back to sleep now.
I know its not very good and probably has a billion grammar and spelling errors, but I wrote it fairly quickly because the idea was just in my head and I just wanted to get it out. Hopefully it wasn't to confusing. I tried to make it just a little illogical because I don't know about you, but my dreams never seem to add up all the way. So I tried to have Skye's point of view shit and her doing things for no reason and just finding herself in different places without really caring in order to give it that dream like quality. I hope you all enjoyed! Sorry it was so long too. Comments down below are always welcome and thanks for reading!