Skye's trying not to lose track of day and night, but it's a little bit hard when your current bed is in a titanium cube within a grounded plane in a sublevel hangar. It's the end of her fourth day in the Cage, the night after Andrew Garner was present to watch the most ridiculous showdown ever between her S.O., her Director, and her father, plus a couple of enhanced people happy to comply with a madman's requests.
As if things weren't ridiculous enough already.
Now Skye is back in her self-imposed exile in the Bus, doped up on some extremely effective sedatives that are only adding to the problem of losing track of night and day. Simmons brought her dinner a few hours ago, and both Coulson and Morse came through to check on her in the evening, but she hasn't seen May since she walked out of the Bus with Andrew earlier. Meaning Coulson couldn't find the power override to turn the lights off in the Cage (which ran on a separate power source than the rest of the plane), so he just killed the whole plane's power so it would be dark enough for Skye to sleep… Unfortunately, now that also means Skye can't find a way to turn the lights back on as she shuffles up to the cabin level to use the bathroom.
Outside the plane, it's as dark as it gets in the hangar, and with the absence of voices or engines or tools, Skye guesses it really must be the middle of the night.
Two steps into the cabin, however, a flashlight beam suddenly cuts through the darkness, a silent assailant that makes Skye jump about five feet backwards in a single bound.
"Hey, Skye?" May's voice carries from the front of the plane, near the cockpit. "Could you give me a hand with something?"
Squinting against the light, Skye raises a casted hand to shield her eyes. "May? Seriously? Is it not the middle of the night?"
"Yet we're both awake. So can you come give me a hand?"
The beam lowers, but Skye's eyes are too blown out to see anything in the dark ahead of her. She starts to move forward, fingertips running along the wall as a guide.
"Is this about the plane's power? Because Coulson shut her down a little while ago when he couldn't find you to ask if there was another way to turn of the lights…"
She notices that May is tracking her with the beam of light trained somewhere around Skye's feet, leading her safely towards the front of the plane.
"No, nothing like that. Just some maintenance that couldn't wait."
"Is it something requiring dexterity?" Skye tosses her words into the darkness like coins into a well. "Because my hands really aren't good for much right now."
She hears the heaviness in the silence that follows, knows they're both remembering the reason why her hands are currently next-to-useless. Her eyes have adjusted, and now she can make out the outline of her S.O. standing in the doorway of a closet Skye's never noticed just in front of the open cockpit door, a flashlight dangling from one hand. They're only a few steps apart now, and Skye can see that May is dressed down in yoga pants and a t-shirt, her hair pulled back in a ponytail and feet bare on the carpet. She either just came from a workout or just got out of bed…
Finally, May responds softly, "I just need someone to hold the flashlight."
Guiltily, Skye shuffles through the door. "That I can do."
As Skye steps in, she sees a narrow pallet bed folded up against the side wall, a thin chest of drawers running along the wall beneath it, and an open duffel is on the floor next to a pair of May's boots.
"Wait a second, is this-"
"My bunk," May finishes for her, folding herself into the room after Skye and shutting the accordion door behind them.
Skye holds out a hand for the flashlight, but May instead pulls the hood of the light out, transforming the barrel of the flashlight into an opaque lantern, and hangs it over a hook on the wall opposite the door.
"I've been over this room with five different scanners," May then whispers, folding her arms over her chest and leaning back against the wall beside the door. "I think this is as secure as it gets around here."
Irrationally, Skye feels her heartbeat immediately pick up. She gingerly wraps her arms around herself, her eyes searching the room quickly for any clue as to what May's about to say.
"So your 'maintenance call'?" she whispers back.
"Just for the benefit of any bugs in the cabin that I hadn't found already."
And who spies on the spies?
"What's going on, May?"
May exhales slowly, staring at the carpet between them as she answers. "I don't know much for certain, other than the fact that Morse and Mack are up to something, something involving our intel and mission logs. And whatever it is, he's been off the grid for 24 hours now, and I'm afraid the confrontation is going to happen soon."
Skye feels her mouth pull into a grimace as she looks away with a sigh. Betrayed from the inside again.
At this point, she shouldn't even be surprised.
"Does Coulson know?"
"He and I haven't talked about it directly. But I know he has his suspicions too."
Skye's eyes snap back to May. "If you haven't talked to him, then why are you talking to me?"
May finally looks up at her. "Because when I talk to him, we're going to talk about you."
Skye feels her brow furrow.
"You're worried it's about me?"
May shakes her head. "No, I don't think it has much to do with you-I think this has been going on since long before Puerto Rico. But I have a feeling that whatever it's all leading towards will be something…stressful. Something where our group will end up divided. And I don't want you to be caught in the crossfire."
And with those words, the pieces come together. Skye suddenly knows what May's brought her in to tell her. Her gaze falls to the floor.
Inside her, a final thread breaks. The last of her hope drifts away like a balloon on a breeze, the end of any hope that this all would pass and things would eventually go back to normal.
They won't.
They can't.
"So I have to go away," she says for May. Her voice sounds small and defeated even to her own ears.
"No, Skye. You have to go somewhere safe. This has nothing to do with you-"
"Jesus, May," Skye snaps, her volume suddenly normal, her head snapping up as she pulls together all the fight she has left within her, "this has everything to do with me, or wouldn't be having this conversation. I'm too dangerous to be here. A titanium box in a plane isn't enough, is it? I can't be anywhere near you guys because I'll probably do more harm than good."
"Skye," May says gently. The woman is still leaning against the wall, her arms still crossed. She hasn't even flinched. And that just makes Skye angrier.
She throws her hands up, letting her volume rise, too.
"No, don't say anything, May. I know how this works. The foster parents never go anywhere. It's the kids that do the leaving. Fine. Thanks for the heads up. Now let me out of here."
She takes the two steps necessary to bring her to the door, but May pushes it firmly closed again even as Skye starts to tug it open.
"Skye," she repeats calmly. And Skye doesn't want to look at her because she knows she can't hide the hot tears filling her eyes, but the gentleness pulls her gaze over anyway.
Only then does Skye feel that the shaking inside her is now outside of her too.
To her credit, May isn't even reacting to it. The woman just holds her gaze as hand slides down the door to gently clasp Skye's casted hand and tug it off the handle. She moves a second hand to cradle it, smoothing her fingers so lightly over the compression material that Skye can barely feel it, but the gesture is still soothing. Her throat closes up, and though she purses her lips against the frustrated sob threatening to break out, she doesn't try to hide the tears as they escape down her cheeks. May reaches over and brushes them away for her, another motion so gentle that it just makes Skye's composure crumble further.
Somehow, still, the shaking has stopped on its own.
"You ready to listen?" May asks softly, her fingertips lingering on Skye's cheek. And as she nods, May drops her hands and nudges her gently towards the low dresser behind her. Skye sits down on it, bringing the two of them at perfect eye-level. The woman takes a step back, which basically brings her against the opposite wall, where she simply stands, clasping her hands in front of herself. The white glow from the lantern slants over her one side of her face, blackening it with shadows.
"A while ago," May begins, "you and I sat in a motel room and said a few things to one another-and I made you some promises. I promised that I would always try to make the decisions I thought best to keep the people I love safe. This is one of those decisions."
Her eyes flicker away for a moment, and Skye takes her chance to slip in an apology.
"You also told me once," she chokes out, "that I don't have to assume the worst in you, and yet I immediately did. I'm sorry."
May looks back at her, her eyes soft.
"You had good reason to. One time is too many times for a person to be sent away, but it's been more for you, and I can only imagine how that's felt. For that, for all that, I am truly sorry. But this is not me saying that you are too much trouble or too dangerous, too out of control or too far gone. This is me saying that you matter too much to me to let you stay in harm's way."
Skye looks down at her own purple hands for a moment, then looks back up at May.
"You sure it has nothing to do with this?" She raises her bound arms marginally.
May smiles a little.
"It has nothing to do with me being afraid of your powers-although, if you can't tell, I have idea how to move forward here. One positive of you going somewhere else is that, if you agree to go where we'll send you, it would be a safe space for you to try out your powers and see what you can do. Then we could make some kind of plan of what do to next."
So, somewhere deserted and devoid of life,Skye thinks. Sounds great.
"And…when could I come back?" she asks cautiously.
May shakes out a small shrug. "When it's safe. When we know all the secrets again."
Skye scoffs out a laugh. "May, no one ever knows all the secrets. Obviously not even the Director."
May smiles a little too as she nods in concession. "Then maybe I should say, when we know who's on whose side again."
Skye sighs inwardly, looking into a dark corner of the room. Why are we already doing this again? We get through one house division with HYDRA only to fall into another with-who now?
"This is no way to live, May," she murmurs sadly.
"I know." And in that admittance, Skye can hear the barest trace of regret.
They are both silent for a moment before Skye closes her eyes and sighs, leaning back against the stowed pallet bed behind her and repeats the mission to her S.O.
"Okay, so I'm going to go somewhere else while you and Coulson do what you do and right a few wrongs and keep our place and people secure. Not because you want me gone but because you want me safe. I understand, May. It sucks, but I understand."
There is a moment of silence, but she feels May moving closer, feels her sit down beside her and put a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"I'm sorry this is one more way I'm letting you down," May says softly, and Skye's eyes open to see the shields down, the pain clear and present in May's expression.
But why?
Skye swivels to face her, reaching out to rest both casted hands on May's thigh.
"May, what are you talking about? One moreway? You have never let me down."
Although the woman looks like she'd like to look away, Skye manages to hold her gaze as she keeps talking.
"Even when I thought you didn't care, you always had my back. Even when I thought you couldn't stand me, you were always protecting me. And even now- what, two years later?- you're still putting yourself between me and harm more than you have to. Even when you've taught me to be ready on my own, you're still there. You're already more than I could have imagined and way more than I deserve. No matter what I say, May, I know that you're not letting me down."
"I disagree." May's hand leaves her shoulder, her fingertips trailing lightly down the mottled bruises on Skye's arms, and Skye can see her cataloguing the marks, analyzing all the injuries that she can see-
Oh. That.
She catches May's hand beneath one of hers.
"May, this wasn't your fault. Neither of us knew..."
May is avoiding her gaze now. "Just because it was an honest mistake doesn't make it any less of a mistake."
And once again, Skye feels the memories come slamming back-the last time Agent Melinda May let a girl get hurt because of her carelessness.
"Melinda May," she says gently, waiting until the woman looks up and meets her eyes again. "This is not Bahrain."
And Skye knows she's got it right when something in May's face seems to collapse. Amazing how much is evidenced by a simple close of the eyes and pursing of the lips.
"You know, the thing about mistakes," May says slowly beside her, a sigh echoing in her chest, "is that you're supposed to learn from them."
Skye feels something inside her snap like a piano string, and she drops May's hand.
"Don't reduce me to your 'second chance'," she says levelly. "I am not a project for you to pass or fail."
May's open, and Skye sees her words have cut. May's hand rests on her thigh. "No, you're not, Skye. You're much, much more than that."
But what is that?
If there was ever a time to ask…
"What are we doing, May?" she asks. Sincerely, because she has no idea herself. "What even is this? Because friends don't kiss behind closed doors. Moms and daughters don't sit like this. Trainers and trainees don't squeeze hands or hug waists or sleep in the same bed. So, tell me, what are we even doing?"
May's lips pull into a small smile, the kind that usually covers tears. So Skye believes her when she says, "I have no idea."
Feeling both relieved and defeated, Skye sighs and tips her head forward until her forehead bumps against May's collarbone. She feels the woman lay a tentative hand on her back, then slide an arm around her and meet it from the other side. She feels May turn her face into Skye's hair, feels the motion of her lips against the top of her head as she speaks.
"In another life, Skye- in a different time and a different place- this might be simpler. But we don't live in that kind of world. We live a life of danger and secrecy and taking responsibility for a world who doesn't care if we exist. It's hard enough when one person's in that life and the person they love is outside of it. It's both a hundred times easier and a million times harder when you have to share lives like this. And sometimes, with all that fire, whatever emerges is pretty unrecognizable. I don't know what to tell you because there isn't anything to compare this relationship to. I don't think there are titles for what we've got. We're just us."
Skye straightens, meeting the woman's eyes.
"Just us?" she repeats, almost skeptically.
"Just us," May repeats, and then she leans in and kisses her.
It is gentle and tender and unhurried, and Skye sighs into it as May's fingers slide into her hair and drag gently along her scalp. She wants to press into it, take whatever's offered, know just how far these borders stretch…
But Skye doesn't know if she can look down this road, the one that's about to fork and send them in different paths without promise of restoration. She can't start something now that she knows will never finish. And when she bumps her forehead against May's to block the next kiss, she can tell May's ahead of her as usual, knows exactly why they have to stop.
The next breath Skye pulls in feels like breathing water, because now she understands why the persistent tears are back, beating against her eyelids and demanding release.
It's because she finally knows that whatever this is, is about to be over.
"I just wish…" she tries, but her throat won't let her finish. She gives up and covers her mouth with one hand, muffling her sob into the compression cast.
She feels May's hand resting gently on the back of her neck, a forehead pressing against her own. She feels a sigh ghost over her lips.
"Me too."
Then May pulls her into her arms and holds her until the tide goes out.
Skye's still not sure of the time, but she has a feeling it's still the middle of the night when she has her breathing and tears under control again. Like before, May refuses to be the one to pull away first, holding on until Skye's ready to be on her own again.
"One more S.O. slumber party?" Skye suggests softly, drawing back just enough so May can see the sad smile she offers with it.
May smooths a hand down Skye's cheek, then stands and nudges Skye off the dresser with her knee as she reaches for the latch on the stowed bed. The pallet swings down horizontal, and May pulls back the covers already tucked around it.
"Duffel on the floor, sheets on the bed…" Skye observes. "May, please don't tell me you've been sleeping out here too."
May pulls a pillow out of one of the cabinets and fluffs it before tossing it on the bed. "All right, then I won't tell you."
She grabs the flashlight off the hook before climbing into the bed, pressing back against the wall so there's room for Skye to squirm in beside her. Once she's under the blanket too, the light clicks off, drowning them in darkness.
There's not really room for both of them on the bed unless they overlap, so Skye slides down a little until she can lay on her side and rest her cheek against the woman's ribs and wrap and arm around her middle. She's technically taller than May, but this still feels more natural.
"Where are you planning to send me?" she asks quietly.
"Someplace quiet and comfortable."
"So a spa or a really fancy library?"
"More like a cabin in the woods."
"I've never been camping."
"That's why there's a cabin."
"There'd better be wifi."
"Even if there's not, I'm sure you'll find a way."
Skye smiles in the darkness, squeezing May gently even as she feels her throat growing tight again, already missing what isn't even gone yet.
"Do you think there could ever come a day when that 'other time and place' is something we could actually have?"
They both know the answer to that question, and Skye immediately regrets asking, but eventually, May sighs beneath her ear.
"I don't know what to tell you Skye, other than to remind you that if we hadn't been through our own individual hells, you and I wouldn't be here."
Together. Holding onto one another in every way a person needs to be held. One person being more than possible-being everything…
And Skye feels like she wants to kiss her again but also feels like she doesn't need to. And it feels like there are things she needs to say but she doesn't have the words for them. So instead she slips her hand beneath the hem of May's shirt and gently touches the scar that wraps around the woman's side, the memorial to the person May used to be, a mile-marker for everything she is now.
"I love you," she breathes against May's chest, barely more than a whisper, soft enough that May can pretend she didn't hear even though they both know she did.
The woman's hands comb gently through her hair, trail gently down her back, hold her strong and secure as the tears seep out, a steady transfusion from Skye's eyes to May's heart. And even though May doesn't say anything, Skye knows she doesn't need to.
Because this, whatever it has been, has always been enough.