A/N: So this happened...because I need these two to get past each other's walls, and I need each of them to process these things and to hear the truths they say to each other below.
This is set post-2.22, but before Jemma is swallowed up by the Kree stone. It could be taken as either platonic or pre-romantic Skye/Hunter - totally up to your preference.
Skye sat, slumped in a chair in the briefing room, because it was the only place nobody would look for her right now.
Coulson was out of town on some recruiting mission (or secret task of Fury's; nobody knew any more, nor did they bother to ask), May was still out of town with Andrew, and Fitz and Simmons were fussing over the Kree stone, under the careful supervision of Mack.
In short, it was a perfect moment to sit in a chair, stare at the wall, and try to figure out what the hell had happened over the last month.
Another dream bites the dust, Skye thought, allowing a hint of the bitterness she usually suppressed to seep out around the edges of her thoughts.
It was no use indulging the bitterness for anything other than motivation when she was sparring. But that didn't mean it wasn't always there.
For a little while, she had thought that she might have found what she had always ached for: family. A place to belong. That family dinner, with Cal and Jiaying - okay, it had been weird, sure - but for one glorious moment, it had almost felt...normal. Sitting around the table, laughing and talking about the night she was born. Learning, for the first time, when her birthday was.
Skye swallowed the lump in her throat, not allowing the tears that pricked in her eyes to fall.
Cal was crazy. But he had loved her. And Jiaying...God. Skye hadn't had any idea, at that point, how deeply Whitehall had broken her mother. Cal's grief - which had seemed strange, once Skye realized Jiaying was still alive - made more sense once Skye realized what her mother had really become.
The heart-wrenching image of her father putting an end to her mother's life right in front of her shimmered before her eyes, and Skye had to shut them, overcome by the same jumble of horror, relief, guilt, and grief she'd felt in that moment.
The sound of approaching footsteps interrupted her painful meditation, and she looked up to see Lance Hunter coming through the doorway. She'd forgotten about him when making her plans - or had assumed he'd be by Bobbi's side, watching her sleep off the anesthetic from her third surgery, which had taken place that morning. But there he was, clutching a bottle of that brand of beer he always managed to have on hand.
What was it? "Ben" something. She'd tried a swig once, when he wasn't looking. It wasn't bad stuff.
The silence between them was growing long and uncomfortable. "Hi," Skye said quietly, breaking it.
"Hi," he replied, shifting his weight from one foot to another, as if thinking about leaving, but not really sure what to do. "Sorry to interrupt."
It wasn't as if she had been talking with someone, or really doing anything at all, but she supposed the look on her face as he'd come in had given him the impression that he was interrupting.
He was, in fact. But she wasn't sure she minded having that train of thought interrupted.
"It's okay," she said. "What are you doing?"
"Looking for somewhere quiet," he replied, the discomfort on his face clearing a little. "Like you, I suspect."
Skye nodded.
Hunter hesitated, then gestured with his beer toward the chair next to her. "D'you mind?"
Skye blinked in surprise. "Go ahead." She watched him as he pulled out the chair and sat, twisting the cap off his beer and taking a long pull. "I thought you'd be with Bobbi," she observed.
He shook his head briefly. "I can only take so much," he explained, pausing for another pull of the beer. Skye noted the label.
Bendeery's. That's what it was called.
"It gets to be too much after a while," Hunter went on, his voice tight. "The unearthly quiet, the incessant beeping of the machines, the chaotic and conflicted emotions."
"Conflicted?" Skye echoed quietly.
Hunter nodded, taking another swig of beer. "Sometimes I can't decide whether to stay forever or to run out the door and never come back." He set the bottle down on the table, picking absently at the label.
Skye's brow furrowed with empathy. From what she'd heard of what had happened between Hunter and Bobbi on the "real" SHIELD carrier - as much as Hunter had told Coulson and Coulson had shared with Skye - they hadn't parted on good terms. But there was something about a near-death experience that made you reconsider how you felt about someone. She'd assumed Bobbi and Hunter were on their way back toward a reconciliation. But apparently it wasn't as straightforward as she had assumed.
"You're not sure how you feel about things with Bobbi?" she clarified quietly.
He nodded slowly. "It's never been a fun ride with Bob, at least not in the end," he explained, heaving a sigh. "Honestly, I don't want to get back on the merry-go-round again. But I can't stop bloody caring. And caring too much."
Skye pressed her lips together, a little surprised at his vulnerability. Something in him had changed, since she'd been gone. "It makes sense," she replied quietly. "It wouldn't be normal to stop caring, after you've known each other for so long, been in the field together, been married."
Hunter nodded slowly, rubbing his thumb over the label on the bottle as he studied it.
"It's still really fresh," Skye pointed out gently. "Everything. Her leaving, everything that happened with Ward. You know?"
He looked up, his eyes meeting hers. "Yeah."
"You don't have to have it all figured out right now. Give yourself time." She paused, studying him, as his eyes dropped back down to the bottle. "You owe it to yourself to make a careful decision, not an emotional one."
He cracked a weak smile. "Easier said than done."
She nodded with understanding. "You got attached, huh?" she observed, not unkindly.
He laughed quietly, then, more quietly still, admitted, "Story of my life."
"I had a feeling." Her smile was just a little bit smug.
He looked up again, meeting her gaze, and held it. "So what're you in for?" he asked, tilting his head to indicate the room before taking another swig of beer.
Skye's smile faded, and she looked down at the table. She had nothing to fidget with except her fingers, so she suddenly became very interested in her nails. "Just thinking," she mumbled.
"I imagine you've got a lot to think about," he observed mildly.
She let out a short, subdued laugh, almost bitter, but not quite. "Yeah."
"I'm sorry things with Mum and Dad went so badly," he added, a note of genuine compassion in his voice that was so unexpected, it almost made her well up in tears again.
"Thanks," she all but whispered, willing those tears to stay in place and not to fall. Mercifully, they didn't spill down her cheeks. But a few words she didn't plan on spilled out of her mouth, loosened by his expression of empathy. "I just thought maybe I had my family, finally, you know?"
Hunter nodded silently, studying her face. "Seems to me like that's what you have here," he said quietly.
Skye's eyes flew to his, and his expression was serious. "I didn't care about it at first, but that's really what you all are," he acknowledged, glancing down at the bottle of Bendeery's before looking back up at her. "Don't take it for granted."
Skye nodded wordlessly, her eyes fixed on his.
After a beat, Hunter looked away, going back to studying the label as if he hadn't already memorized every line of it.
"I'm glad you stuck around," Skye said softly. "Thanks for taking care of Coulson."
A wry half-smile came to Hunter's lips. "He's not bad, that guy," he replied approvingly. "Not entirely terrible to take orders from. Though I do question his judgment from time to time."
Skye grinned. "The worst part is he usually ends up being right. And usually there's part of the plan he isn't telling you."
Hunter's half-smile expanded into a grin. "Yeah, well, we'll see how long I last under that kind of leadership."
Skye laughed, then looked at him, her face settling into serious lines. "I hope you do stick around," she said frankly.
Hunter glanced up at her, curious, but her expression was inscrutable. "Maybe I will," he replied casually. "It's not as if I have any better offers presenting themselves at the moment."
Skye smiled.
Hunter tipped the beer bottle back, draining it, then set it back onto the table with a thunk. "Well, I think I'll head back to sleeping patient watch and leave you to your interrupted thoughts."
This time, Skye's smile felt a little forced. "Okay."
He pushed his chair back and stood, taking the bottle with him. "I'll think about what you said," he said quietly. "Thanks."
"Me too." Her smile felt a little more natural this time as he nodded, then turned to go.
"Hey," Skye said quietly.
Hunter wheeled back around, eyebrows lifted curiously.
"If you need to talk, come find me."
His eyes searched hers for a moment. "Ditto," he replied.
Skye nodded, swallowing hard.
He held her gaze for a beat, before turning and walking out the door.
A/N: This began life as a one-shot, but I could see continuing it. If you want more, tell me what you want to see!
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