"Agent Gibbs," A figure barked, its frame looming over the shadowy room's second occupant. "Repeat the consequences we agreed upon for failing this mission."

To the untrained eye, the other man appeared un-phased, but his superior could see otherwise in the slight shake of the agent's left leg, the nearly silent quiver of dread in his voice. "Death," he answered finally.

"Good," the official stated coldly. "Not only did you fail miserably, but you threatened the secrecy of our project and alerted Shield with your idiocy and carelessness. Now, another one of our subjects is dead and the girl is missing. We're running out of subjects. Even someone with your lack of intelligence should know what comes next."

"Wait!" Agent Gibbs exclaimed, and the heavily armed man halted, exchanging an icy glare with him. "I have information."

"What?" the older man said dully.

"The girl… It worked, nearly took out the both of us. She has powers. She can kill."

Pleased with the outcome, the official narrowed his eyes and raised his gun, pointing it at Gibbs and pulling the trigger without another word. He'd received the information he needed, now their main focus was getting the girl back. The condemned agent's eyes lingered on the Hydra logo, absorbing the sight as his world went black.

0-0-0

"We're just receiving news of a fatal car crash," A host spoke on the television, but Skye's voice traveled across the room, clear and familiar as it overrode the newscaster, no one aware of the tidal wave of change they were about to experience. "FitzSimmons, I love you guys, but if you're putting on another documentary for movie night, you're never allowed to pick again." She grinned at the two scientists as she plopped onto the couch beside Ward, the team gathering for a movie night during their lull in missions.

Coulson couldn't stop staring at the TV.

"I'll have you know, Skye, last week's documentary was highly acclaimed by the scientific community. The genetic research was fascinating. It was a captivating film."

Ward raised his eyebrows at Jemma's statement. "I don't know if captivating is the right word for that one."

Suppressing a smile, Simmons huffed, but before she could defend her choice, Fitz joined in. "Don't worry, we have great taste in films. We have something awesome picked out…"

"Which is?" Skye asked.

"A surprise," Fitz shrugged before Simmons turned to him and mumbled something that sounded a lot like 'we need a change of plans.' Skye burst out laughing, and soon Simmons joined in, even Ward wore an amused grin, followed by a semi reluctant Fitz.

The sounds grew hollow and distant. Coulson couldn't pull away, his muscles going tense, his gaze locked on the screen. "Wait," he said softly to Skye, as her finger hovered over the remote, about to set up for a movie.

"Why?" she asked curiously, but Coulson didn't answer. He was already too far gone.

"A suspicious car crash is making news today, the accident took place in Portland and involved a musician from the local symphony. We're waiting for verification of who that person was." The television penetrated their voices, FitzSimmons and Skye falling into background noise as the TV replayed in Coulson's mind. Waves of thought broke against the rock of his brain, assaulting him incessantly.

On a live feed, the screen morphed to reveal the crash scene: a vehicle pressed against a tree, flaming in a ditch, its metal frame mangled and twisted on the left side. Crushed in and distorted, it was unfathomable how a car could sustain such devastating damage. Emergency vehicles and first responders gathered on the road as orange flames licked at the atmosphere, smoke curling in dark, thick heaps, like the wiry claws of a monster.

The breaking news banner flashed across the screen, and again, those sickening, life changing, heart shattering words left the local reporter's lips.

"We've just received confirmation that the victim of the fatal car crash is local celebrity, Audrey Nathan, second chair cellist of the Portland Symphony."

The camera panned to an ambulance, where an ME zipped up a body bag.

His stomach twisted.

It's amazing how a few fluctuation of vocal chords could produce vibrations that changed your life. That in a single moment everything could change with just a few words. One name.

Standing there, as sirens wailed from the TV and words became background noise, a horrible sinking feeling tugged on his gut. This must have been how Audrey felt all those years ago, when she'd been told they he died. Frosty guilt chilled his bloodstream.

The change in his demeanor must have been obvious, or May might have heard the news too. He didn't really care. His mind circled in knots, stuck on the fact that this was never supposed to happen. He was always the one in danger, the one who'd died. Audrey was supposed to be safe. He was supposed to make sure of that.

He was falling deeper into the pit just as May's voice yanked him out.

"Coulson?"

He couldn't answer; couldn't get his lips to form words.

"Phil?" she tried. The use of his first name snapped him to reality, her tone indicating that she'd been calling his name repeatedly before he'd even looked up.

Forcing out the first word he could wrench from his brain, he spoke, "Yeah?" Suddenly becoming aware that FitzSimmons were no longer arguing over films, Skye and Ward weren't harassing the duo to hurry up. Instead, they were all looking at him, worry and confusion shining from their young gazes.

Coulson could hear May's soft breathing from her position just a foot in front of him, lips pressed together. Waiting, staring expectantly at him. She must've known. She always knew.

"It's her," he confirmed, the words a piercing dagger, each syllable twisting the ache in his heart, solidifying its place there. This was real.

There is no way this is real, his brain screamed.

But it was. It was. And before May could offer some words—or a comforting look or gesture, or whatever she was planning on doing—the newscaster brought more information. "Nathan was a talented musician and single parent, we're just receiving word that her seven year old daughter was in the car but is currently missing."

Heavy and thick and stifling, it felt like the silence in the room could suffocate him. He was having a nightmare, he'd been knocked out, he was hallucinating, he was going absolutely mad, but this—this could not be happening.

"Suspicions of foul play are rapidly arising, as police and multiple government agencies were called in when a black SUV ran Nathan's vehicle off the road and attempted to enter her car. After fire began consuming the vehicle, a nearby government rescue team pulled Nathan from the car and onto the street, where she died from injuries sustained during the crash. An investigation is presently underway. If you have any information the police urge you to call. For now, stay inside with doors locked and blinds closed."

Fragments moved and slid and clicked. A mask feigning calm fell into place. Coulson needed to take control. There was a kid involved and danger and he could not let things spiral out of control, no matter how much it felt like they were already too far gone.

With startling composure, he looked up at May, his tone giving away nothing as he applied all his effort to keeping it even. "We need to get there."

She nodded. Despite the tragedy that was arising, thick like smoke, Coulson felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for May. Before turning to the cockpit, she reached out and gave his arm a reassuring squeeze and brief nod, her version of a 'you'll be okay.' Then she was gone, turning out of the room and heading to redirect the plane for the hour long trip to Portland.

He'd have to call Fury and sort all this out. The thought drove him to wordlessly leave the room, fully intent on making it to his office without breaking down. As he passed through the doorway, Skye stood up to follow him, until Ward shook his head, urging her to sit back down. She settled back on the couch, her eyes seeking out anyone else's. "What just happened?"

A few mumbled responses all arrived at the same conclusion: they had no idea.

By the time Coulson reached his office, his hands were most definitely shaking. Conflicting emotions swirled inside him. Audrey had a daughter. A daughter without him, not that it was her fault. Audrey had a daughter. Audrey was dead. Audrey's daughter may not be.

Audrey had been a single parent, god, Coulson wanted to kill the idiot that left her, especially with a kid—but Coulson didn't really have much room to talk. Bitter remorse clenched his gut. With those memories, more regret simmered inside him, taunt and icy and overbearing. It sat deep in his chest, settled itself there while it stemmed outward, its painful grasps reaching down to his toes.

He collapsed into his chair, elbows propped against his desk as his head fell into his palms. The words Audrey and daughter and dead all circulating through his head in a horrible, tragic tempo of regret and pain. Growing louder and quicker with each passing moment. His own personal symphony of nightmare. He never should have left her. Never should have let her think he was dead, because the thought of her feeling anything like this made him sick. In spite of his attempts, he couldn't suppress the mounting sentiment that he could have prevented this. He had to make this up to her. He had to take care of her daughter. Years had passed since they'd been together, but he still felt every part of him longing to be with her.

Summoning a new round of self-control, he sat up and let out a long breath before contacting Fury. Their talk went over relatively well. Fury had informed him that Shield had been on scene when the accident occurred and was currently conducting their own investigation. Since they weren't presently working on a mission, Fury allowed Coulson and his team to visit the scene, so long as Coulson agreed not to get too involved. Fury still needed them to for whatever assignments might present themselves.

For the time being, that would have to be enough for Coulson. He'd get to Portland and assess the situation. Calculating circumstances, determining tactics and strategies came naturally to him. He was a leader. Amongst every crazy thing in the world, evaluation and organization made sense. So that's what he'd do. From there, he could figure out a plan. Almost a decade ago, he'd made the mistake of letting Audrey go, he wasn't going to do the same thing to her daughter.

A soft knock pulled Coulson from his thoughts. He lifted his head, the door already creaking open hesitantly before he could respond. Slipping through the crack and easing the door softly closed was Skye. She looked over at him, wearing a small, concerned smile. An uncharacteristic shyness and uncertainty dominated her demeanor.

"Hey, AC," she greeted, still lingering in front of the shut door.

"Hi, Skye." The sight of her brought a little bit of warmth into his heart.

"Are you okay?" she asked as she sat down in one of his chairs, taking his acknowledgement as a sign that it was acceptable to stay for a bit.

He nodded slowly. "I'll be fine."

"That's good," she said sincerely, awkwardly dropping her gaze, "so, um, what's going on? We're all pretty worried."

Coulson sighed, it was obvious where the conversation was going, but he still felt reluctant about it, especially when he'd barely pieced together exactly what was happening. "The person who died in the crash, Audrey, she um – we were close a few years ago."

"And?" Skye pressed, her curiosity controlling her mouth in a way it so often did.

"And then I died, literally, and she never really learned that I'm still alive."

"Were you guys, like, a 'thing'?"

Coulson raised his eyebrows.

Skye shuffled in her seat. "Ya know like, a thing? More than friends?"

Wearing a small, amused smile at her word choice and slight discomfort, Coulson answered, "You could say that, yeah. We were engaged," he answered, his voice carrying an underlying spirited tone that made Skye feel like her mission was double accomplished—she'd gotten some details on what was going on, and, most importantly, she'd managed to cheer Coulson up a bit, if only for a little while.

"I'm sorry about that," she said, candor aching in her voice as she reached over Coulson's desk and gave his hand a quick squeeze.


A/N: I hope you guys liked the first chapter! There will be more to come, until then... I'd love to hear your thoughts. :)