A knock at her door brought her out of her attempt at sleep. It had been a pitiful attempt, every time Skye almost nodded off she'd jump back into consciousness with the flash of the bomb.

"Skye?" An all too familiar voice asked accompanied by another soft knock.

"Come in, Simmons." She spoke softly, not wanting to wake the boy sleeping in her arms.

Ace hadn't been resting well either. Skye couldn't blame him though, if the bomb was haunting her than she could only imagine what it was doing to him. She instinctually pulled him closer. They'd been holding each other since the bridge, since the trade was made and everything went to hell, Skye wouldn't let go until she knew he was safe.

The door slid open and Jemma peaked her head in before slipping into the small pod. She set a steaming mug onto Skye's nightstand and met her gaze. The biochemist looked uneasy, wringing her hands and shifting from foot to foot.

"What's that?"

"Tea. Um, chamomile tea. To maybe help you sleep. I was having troubles and thought you might be too so I made you a cup as well." Jemma stumbled.

Skye tried a smile and hoped the agent would understand why it came out as more of a broken one than the grateful she was going for. "Thanks."

Jemma nodded once. She couldn't think of anything else to say, but she couldn't bring herself to leave just yet. So she looked to the slumbering boy, "how's Ace?"

"Been asleep for twenty minutes, longest stretch yet." Skye shifted slightly and ran a hand down his back. He was heavier than he looked, her arm fell asleep long ago, but she welcomed the weight strewn across her body. His steady breathing a calming aid in her tries at rest. Skye caught the unsteady way Simmons' next breath drew in and her stomach churned at any thought of the woman unhappy and restless. "How are you making out?"

"I can't sleep either. Worrying too much."

"We'll find him, Jemma." Skye firmly reassured.

Jemma sighed, visibly deflating. She looked so tried Skye just wanted to scoop her up and tuck her into bed. "I know. I just- I worry."

"You always worry." Skye teased. When Jemma didn't react she patted the bed on her free side. She hated the thought of her going back to her pod alone when she clearly was upset and not going to get any peace of mind.

"Oh no, I couldn't. There's barely enough room for the two of you." Jemma declined.

"I insist. At least sit at the end of the bed, I'd be a horrible host if I had you stand there all night."

Jemma rolled her eyes but eventually complied. Skye wiggled in as close to Ace as she could, pushing him into the wall just a smidgen -thought she didn't think he would mind all that much. The biochemist gingerly sat next to her and Skye could already feel the tightness in her chest melt away. She sighed and closed her eyes, there was no use in keeping them open any longer, Jemma was out of her line of sight.

"Jem?" Skye broke the silence.

"Yes, Skye?"

"What's home like?"

She could practically feel the adorable confused scrunch of Jemma's nose. She smiled into the dark and hoped the other woman wouldn't be able to see.

"Home has always been..." And just like that Jemma was off on a ramble about the house she grew up in. Skye happily listened to the exquisite detail in which the biochemist went into, letting herself get lost in the tales of a home she could only dream of ever having.

She wondered what it'd be like, to have a home, a real home like the one Jemma spoke of. She imagined dinners at a round table, loved ones taking up the seats. Skye thought of rooms filled with noise of people living happily, complaining about not being able to find something and having someone pass it to her with an added kiss, walls she got to pick the colours of, furniture that she'd scratched the wall bringing in the door. She painted a home, a life, and she didn't know when the team ended up there on the couch with her, laughing at some stupid joke, but they were apart of it and it scared her how quickly they'd wiggled into her heart. Into her dreams, her future. In her track record that never ended in her favour, but it was already too late. They were there and there was no going back.

"Skye?" Simmons was quiet, as if she didn't want to wake her if she was already sleeping.

Skye hummed.

"Maybe I should leave and let you sleep." Jemma worried and started to slide off the bed.

Skye's hand shot out and found Jemma's leg-her knee before she could even register the movement. "No, stay. Please."

"Okay." She replied a bit breathlessly. "Do I just sit here or..." She trailed off in question.

"Talking is nice. I mean, if you don't mind, Ace seems to like it." Skye fibbed, patting the boys back for extra emphasis. She liked the talking. She liked it a lot more than she was willing to admit.

"Have I ever told you about the time I attempted to learn to skateboard to impress a boy?" Skye could hear the amused grin and picture it, knowing it was right there above her head, sent a wave of fireflies through her stomach.

Skye didn't remember when she'd dosed off, couldn't say which story was the last she heard before she accepted the sweet call of sleep. But she did remember cold, nimble fingers in her hair, brushing through the long tangled strays that had escaped her braid, scratching at her scalp ever so often. That was probably what did her in too. Skye was a sucker for her hair being played with. And she was a bigger sucker when it came to Jemma Simmons.