Okay, so I may or may not have another one of these in the works (as I stated on AO3), and if you want to know about it, then check out my beloved Tumblr for previews and weird little things I feel like posting - I have posted heaps of previews and snippets for various works over the passed few days, so... yup! Check it out! :)

-(O)-

His fist hit the bag over and over again as memories flooded through his raging mind.

Fists collided with his face, marks instantly caressing his once flawless skin – or, at least, before the devil came out. Maynard sent a kick round-house kick to his stomach, grinning sadistically as he watched him quiver on the floor in guttural pain.

Fifteen year old Grant watched as another foot landed upon Tommy's face, effectively placing another piece of purple skin below his eye. His baby brother coiled away from his feet in pain, clutching his face with shaking hands.

Eyes glaring, his older brother looked to Grant with expectation in his cold and heartless orbs. He gestured to their baby brother squirming on the floor beneath him. "What are you waiting for? An invitation? Are you going to join in or not?"

He shook his head swiftly, refusing to add to the already overwhelming pain that was sure to double if he joined in with his brother's shenanigans. Maynard spoke again, his voice deadly as he glared at his younger brother. "You're going to do it. Now get your sorry butt over here. Now."

Grant shook his head again, refusing to harm his baby brother any more. Maynard stalked over to him, his fists shaking with the unparalleled fury running through his raging veins. Grant prepared himself for the onslaught of attacks he was sure would ensure.

Maynard continued walking until he was standing a few measly metres away from Grant. He prepared himself for he knew what would happen.

THWACK!

Grant turned back to look at his brother, ignoring the stinging pain in his cheekbones as Maynard turned back to walked towards their baby brother, still squirming on the floor.

Standing before his poor baby brother, Grant sent him a slight wink as he prepared to throw the punch. He pulled his fist back.

A scream echoed through his ears, causing his raging mind to run into overdrive as he stopped mid-punch to listen to the screams. "Stop it!"

He pushed away from the punching bag and turned to the upper levels of the bus. A man, clad in suit and frantic expression, ran out onto the stairs, looking into Grant's eyes with a knowledgeable glint. "Skye?" He asked, looking into the eyes of Agent Phillip Coulson.

The older man nodded, gesturing behind him as another scream rippled through the plane.

A young pair of scientists walked out from the lab, mumbling amongst themselves as they cringed. "What in god's name is going on?" Fitz asked quietly, his Scottish accent blurring words together in a mirage of consonants and vowels.

Grant looked to the Senior Agent before reaching for his classic grey shirt and storming up the spiral stairs. Pulling the shirt over his muscular chest, he quickly ran through the kitchen to get to the room with the screaming woman within. He slid the door open and looked inside. Skye, wearing the usual plaid shorts, singlet and over lay and anklet socks, was thrashing in her nightmare filled sleep. He rushed forward just seconds before she slipped quickly, almost falling from the S.H.I.E.L.D ordered bed. He stood on his knees as he gently cradled her to his chest.

Subtle sobs wracked her petite framed, her body shaking in his arms.

Coulson sent everybody away, throwing a "Be careful, Grant. She only just got her sleeping habits back to normal." over his shoulder as he walked, guiding the science twins away.

Clutching her to his chest once again, Grant spun on his back foot, back leaning against the side of her messy bed. Slowly, he began rocking slightly, gently soothing the still sobbing Skye. "Come on, Skye, wake up for me, please." She nuzzled herself further into his still sweaty chest. Grant smiled in return.

Tears travelled down her cheeks, combining themselves with the sweat on his chest. Grant pulled her closer to his chest, sitting her up, and head now resting in the crook of his neck. "Come on, Skye, time to wake up." He turned his head, kissing her temple and forehead repeatedly until she awoke slowly.

Her hand gripped his bicep, obviously still reeling from whatever she saw in her dream.

It seems that both of them were still reeling from their memories throughout their obviously rather distressing childhoods.

"Grant?"

Her eyes were fearful and her grip was the strongest he'd ever felt from her; her touch was usually always so gentle – not necessarily a good thing for specialist training.

Grant began to move Skye to his side, arm over her shoulder as she rested her head on his shoulder. "Hey," he said quietly, playing with the soft strands of hair that had fallen out of the elastic, "Bad dream?"

Skye nodded slowly, going even more slowly when she realised that his own pulse was still thundering in his own chest. "Yeah…" she said, "You?"

Grant shook his head, "I just had a bad dream and took it out on the bag, that's all." He shrugged dismissively. "I'm fine."

Standing up, Skye held her hand out to Grant, pulling him to his feet gently.

The duo went to Grant's bunk; one pulling the other, Grant being pulled. "Grab your clothes."

He looked to her strangely, his brown orbs displaying a confused glint. "You." Skye said, rolling her eyes, "Grab your pyjamas."

Reaching down, Grant retrieved a pair of white pyjama pants and a light navy t-shirt from his small dresser and turned around. Skye grabbed his arm yet again and pushed him into the bathroom, throwing a "You stink." over her shoulder as she shut the door and made herself comfortable on the leather couch in the living area.

Five minutes later, Grant was out the door and dressed in white pyjama pants with his light navy shirt, looking to Skye as she played on her tablet.

Skye stood up again, looping her hand through his and pulling him into his bunk. She gently pushed him towards his bed, sitting beside him and nuzzling herself up against his body as they lay down together, hand interwoven between them. She then snuggled even further into his body, releasing his hands to rest her head upon his chest and her arm across his waist.

Grant smiled softly, content to just watch her as she became comfortable on her makeshift bed.

"Do you remember what you told me," he asked, "When you last had a nightmare?"

Skye mumbled something incoherent, evidently too comfortable to form a legitimate sentence.

"You said: Sometimes, nightmares can be a good thing."