A/N: If you're here that means you're back for more, so good luck! Angst ahead! (Warning: graphic wounds)
Skye woke up to a salty splash in the face. Her initial thought was, '...THE FUCK?' But the loud noise surrounding her brought her around. Her head and eyes whipped about wildly in the dark. She was in a plane. She was in a plane and it fucking fell out of the sky! Skye pushed back against her seatback. The plane was still moving. Skye felt two sharp pains; one was in the back of her upper right side and the other was in her left temple. The force of the crash had caused her to bash her head on the seat back screen in front of her. She could feel warm liquid down the side of her face and knew she was bleeding. Skye's mind whirled. She gave herself three seconds, closing her eyes she inhaled then exhaled two deep breaths.
When her eyes popped open, Skye was already in motion. Her adrenaline surged and it forced her brain to keep up with her. The plane crashed. They made a water landing. The front of the plane had snapped off. That memory slowly came back. The tail, the section she was in, was sinking. Someone rushing to get out had splashed her in the face accidentally and Skye woke up. Jemma. Where's Jemma? She went back to her seat! Jemma! Skye couldn't see that far back in the plane in the dim emergency lights that were left on despite the catastrophic breakup of the plain. As these thoughts rushed through her brain, Skye tore off the air mask then unhooked her seatbelt buckle with one hand and snatched her bag from the floor before the water reached it with the other. From inside she grabbed a heavy duty (but small) ultra bright LED flashlight from a pocket and jammed her hand through the wrist strap. She zipped all the pockets shut since the bag was waterproof and slung it over her head and shoulder, swinging it to rest against her back.
Skye turned to her left and spotted Ace struggling with his seat belt with shaking hands. "Let me," she reached under his hands and pulled the belt free just as Mike was coming to. "Mike!" Skye pushed down the row as the water began to lap at their shoes. Mike trained wild eyes on her as Ace pulled out of his air mask. "Mike! We crashed - hey! Mike!" She gave his cheek a strong slap and his eyes focused sharply, taking in his surroundings. Skye felt around Ace's seat and came up with the emergency life vest. She helped him into it but told him not to inflate it until they were out of the plane. She helped Mike free from his seat and as soon as he had his inflatable life vest in his hand, she turned back to her right and rushed into the aisle.
She had to duck back out of the way of a large man running straight for her with only his cell phone flashlight held out in front of him. He was screeching in a high other tone and Skye barely jumped to the side out of his way before he barreled face-first into the dark water and disappeared. Clicking her flashlight on, Skye looked around the cabin. Her light hit Miles first, slumped hanging out of the aisle without an air mask on. Half a second later it hit the section Jemma and Fitz had been sitting. Jemma had a face full of blood and Fitz was freaking out, screaming unintelligible words at Jemma.
Skye ran. She stopped at Miles first but found no pulse. She pushed Miles' body out of the way, muttering a curse under her breath and then turned to Fitz and Jemma. She stopped just next to Jemma, gaping at all the blood on Jemma's face stemming from a gnarly head wound. She had her oxygen mask on but was unconscious and Skye couldn't tell just from looking if she was breathing or if Fitz had checked for a pulse at all. Skye closed her eyes. 1...2...3.
Skye popped her eyes open again. Fitz was frantically pulling at Jemma's seatbelt water was just hitting the row behind where Skye's seat had originally been. "FITZ!" Skye screamed his name in a commanding, booming tone, the kind of sound that would make a navy seal quiver in their combat boots, and simultaneously grabbed him by the shirt collar and gave a forceful tug. "GET OUT OF THE WAY!" She bellowed.
"We're sinking!" Fitz shrieked in a high, panicky tone. Skye grabbing onto him hardly seemed to faze him. He was still sputtering and looking around them frantically. Water was flowing in steadily and was soaking the carpet beneath their feet, rising quickly and over the brim of their shoes in a few seconds. They were running out of time. They were running out of time and Jemma was trapped.
"The bags, they fell and-" Fitz pointed up at the broken compartment and the bags all around them. They had created an avalanche on Jemma and Fitz and although he escaped mostly unharmed, a heavy, hard suitcase had fallen and split her head open. Others had battered her and her seatbelt was warped and broken, the clasp mechanism wouldn't come loose.
The water was already up to their ankles and all Fitz had managed to do was get into the aisle between Jemma and Skye, but only because she had forcibly pulled him out. All he got himself to do was gently pull the mask from her face and over her head. There was a small line on her skin where the strap had been and the blood hadn't been able reach, but it quickly disappeared as Jemma continued bleeding. It ran from her forehead and her temple down over her eye and her cheekbone, dribbling down her neck and onto her collar. Fitz didn't know what to do, he just stood there, frozen, holding the mask in his hand and wondering if his friend was even alive at all.
As soon as Skye pulled Fitz out of the way, she dropped down to her knees and started digging at the seat belt buckle. She shined her flashlight on it and saw the warped spots. She reached around Jemma's lap, started tugging and groping at the strap and the spots where it connected to the seat. She ignored Fitz's shouting. She ignored the louder sounds of the approaching water. She even ignored the chill that rushed from her heels all the way up her spine and sent tingles of alarm around her brain. She especially ignored the part of her brain that kept screaming, SHE'S GOING DOWN - ABANDON SHIPPPPPPPP! RUNNNNN! At ever increasing volumes in the back of her mind's ear. There wasn't a chance in hell she was going to just turn around and flee.
Skye did, however, need to get Fitz out of there. She needed to focus on getting Jemma free and she couldn't do that while also reminding herself that she would have to get him out of there too. "Okay, Jemma, you've gotta wake up now," She impulsively dropped her hand into the slightly lower than ankle deep water, cupped a handful of it and threw it at Jemma's face while she was still groping and tugging around at the belt in Jemma's lap. She grabbed a broken chunk of the window shade and jammed it under the latch of the seatbelt then made a fist and swung the heel of her hand hard at the edge of the plastic, hoping to pry the buckle with force.
"Fitz," She said without looking away. "Get a life vest and get out of here," She ordered him. "Find the raft from the front of the plane. I'll get Jemma and meet you there," She didn't even look at him as she laid that plan out there for him since she was too busy at work in Jemma's lap. Come onnnnnn! Think, think, think...what do I have to break it loose? Skye forced herself to take long, steady breaths despite the fact that her heart was racing so fast in her chest, she wasn't sure how it hadn't exploded. Skye splashed another handful of now ankle deep water at Jemma. This one seemed to do the trick.
Just as Fitz dashed off to find the raft so that they could escape, leaving loud splashes in his wake, a small groan clawed its way out of Jemma's throat. Her head lulled forward before her eyes finally caught up with her brain and opened. It was dark, nearly pitch black except for a bright light at her waist level. Her face felt sticky and her left eye was heavy with something coated on her face. Jemma reached up and gingerly touched her wound with two fingers, hissing as she did. Her eyes finally readjusted to the light and she was face to face with Skye, who was watching her intently with her hands on Jemma's legs and waist. She frowned, confused, until she remembered. The plane crashed, and they were somewhere over the middle of the Pacific. There was water at her feet, which meant they were going to drown.
Skye's head snapped up when she heard Jemma groan. She watched Jemma carefully for just a few seconds and then Jemma's eyes (or at least the one good one) looked at her. Skye resisted the urge to reach out and touch Jemma's face. There were more pressing matters at hand. "Welcome back," She said and looked back down at the belt.
"Skye?" Jemma's voice wavered and she glanced around. They were the only two left in the plane, which was strange. She didn't realize why until she moved to get out of her seat and the latch wouldn't pull free. "Am I stuck?" Jemma asked dumbly. She knew somewhere in the back of her mind that she was in shock and had probably had quite a hit to the head, but she was trying to find clarification for what seemed unbelievable. The water was touching her shins now.
Skye's gaze turned back to Jemma's face when she heard the waver in it. "Hey," She reached for the bottom hem of her own shirt and stood up straighter. As gently as she could, she braced Jemma's head by the side of her jaw and the side of her neck with one hand, letting the flashlight swing, she used the bottom of her shirt to wipe around Jemma's eye to clear it though she tried not to touch the wound too much. She didn't want to hurt Jemma further and she didn't want to open whatever parts of the wound might have already clotted.
"Yeah, you're stuck," Skye crouched back down but kept looking at Jemma. "But it's only temporary. I'm gonna get the belt off and we're going to get out of here together, alright?" She tried to talk as calmly as she could. Jemma just woke up to a helluva situation - she was trapped in the sinking tail end of an airplane in the middle of the ocean.
Jemma held as still as possible while Skye wiped off her face. Her first thought when Skye moved away, as ridiculous as it was, was that she was guilty her blood ruined Skye's shirt. She finally got a good look at her when she opened her left eye with the right and noticed that Skye was bleeding too. She reached out with a bruised hand and cupped Skye's cheek. There was a wound on the left side of her head, maybe not as severe as her own, but still enough to cause a small stream of blood to flow from the split skin.
"You're injured." Jemma frowned. She couldn't seem to get more than a few words in each sentence, but she was slowly regaining full consciousness. She was aware enough to look past Skye's shoulder, and when she did, her eyes widened. They were tilted back and she could see a vast expanse of stars out the open space that used to connect to the rest of the plane. That was where the water was coming from, but her hands shook and she devoted them to yanking her seat belt loose, but to no avail.
"So are you," Skye replied. Her hands were already back at work, trying to find any trick that would break the buckle or the belt strap to free Jemma. Honestly, she remembered that her head was bleeding only when Jemma mentioned it. Her adrenaline rush was just that strong at the moment. Pain wasn't a factor. But fear? Fear that she wouldn't be able to free Jemma coursed through her. Skye refused to let that fear win out and she kept working.
"Skye..." Jemma pointed to the window of the row just in front of them, which was webbed with cracks. Water was getting through in small flowing streams, but she could see the stress put on them and knew it wouldn't last longer if they got deeper into the water and the pressure increased. Her eyes flew around her and as she noticed just how many of the windows looked the same, one shattered. A loud, crashing jet of water began pouring into the cabin and a shiver ran up Jemma's spine. Another shattered to her right, and Jemma knew the plane would be sunken completely in a very short amount of time.
Skye was already looking around with the flashlight for something sharp enough to saw through the belt strap when Jemma said her name. She looked up and then followed Jemma's pointing to the cracked window. Her brain had just enough time to grumble '...shit,' before the windows began shattering with explosive bangs. The one next to Jemma's seats cracked and Skye quickly jumped up and turned her back to the window to block the inward blowing shards of glass from hitting Jemma. Instead they hit the back of Skye's leather jacket, which stopped them from embedding into her skin. The plane lurched and the water began to rise faster. It was already hitting Jemma's knees when Skye pushed to stand up in the water.
"Jem, I'll be right back," She started to move out toward the aisle with the intention of heading toward the back of the plane where she saw a jagged piece of metal sticking out of the restroom door.
"Wait!" Jemma exclaimed suddenly. She reached out and grabbed at Skye and managed to snag the edge of her jacket. The water level had already risen another inch and she was afraid Skye wasn't going to come back. It was illogical for her to, after all, since they had hardly just met. She didn't want to be alone and she was afraid she was going to die strapped into the seat. "Don't leave me." Her voice was small, but loud enough to be heard over the gushing water. White knuckles gripped tightly at Skye's jacket and refused to let go.
Skye froze, her legs apart mid-step and glanced very briefly at Jemma's hand on her jacket. Skye knew she shouldn't waste time but the way Jemma said that last part made Skye's chest burn. "Jemma," Quickly, Skye stepped back. She crouched slightly and reached out, put one hand on each side of Jemma's face until she could force Jemma to look at her. Skye locked her gaze. "I promise you, I'm not going to leave this plane without you." She said it quickly but with conviction. There was limited time and she needed to move quickly. "If you go down with it, I'm going with you. I'd really like to spare us both from that so I'm going right back to the lavatory to grab something sharp enough to cut you free - I promise I won't leave you...okay?" She arched her eyebrows and tried to ignore the speed of the water for a few more seconds.
Skye's short speech made Jemma's shaking lessen, even if only slightly. She stared into Skye's eyes and searched for any sign that she might be lying to her, but she found none. The woman she had so instantly connected with was staying in the sinking plane despite all other logical options to help her escape. The water was up to her thighs now. Jemma's right side was drenched from the water pouring in. Skye would have to wade through it and if Jemma wanted any chance of them getting out they had to move quickly. Her death grip released and turned into a light push. "Hurry." She pleaded.
Skye nodded and surged toward the back of the plane, moving as fast as her adrenaline would take her, sloshing through the water. She made it to the lavatory door, grabbed a wayward floating sweatshirt, wrapped it around the jagged metal piece. She jammed her foot into the open door frame took a deep breath, gripped the metal with both hands and grunted through her ground teeth as she pulled, shook and then wrenched it free. She pulled so hard that when it wrenched free, she flew backward and slammed into the plane wall behind her. She didn't even register the sharp jab of pain that went through her upper right side again as she rushed back into the water to get back to Jemma. "I'm back!" She said as soon as she made it. She pulled the flashlight off her wrist and gave it to Jemma. "I need you to aim this down at your lap." She paused at the way Jemma was breathing hard. Skye dropped the sweatshirt and went to work sawing the right side of the seat belt strap.
"Jem...I want you to take long, deep breaths, okay? If we go under before I finish sawing you're gonna need to hold it for a few seconds, okay? This way if it comes to it, you'll be ready, okay?" Skye talked as she worked since she knew the water would be too deep soon. Sure enough seconds later it was at Jemma's chest. "Steady, now." She said before she took a deep breath and disappeared under the water, sinking so she could get better leverage at sawing through the belt, ignoring the bites of pain the sharp metal made into her fingers and palms. Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on.
Jemma's teeth were chattering and she did her best to hold the flashlight still and pointed to where Skye was working. It was difficult when the water was so dark. It looked like a great mass of oil and the range the flashlight gave off under the water was much less than above.
It seemed like the rate the water was rising was getting faster and faster. It was only seconds until she had to lift her chin to keep her face out of the water so she could breath. Hurry, Skye. Hurry! Her mind was screaming. She couldn't even see her, but she could feel the slight pressure from Skye tugging at the strap. She had no way of knowing how close Skye was to finishing, but when she started getting water in her lungs with her air from the sloshing, she knew they were almost out of time. She jerked upward some in her seat to keep her head above water and felt the metal object graze her skin because of it. Skye finally reappeared at the surface with a splash and Jemma was horrified to find she was still trapped.
Skye turned her eyes up toward the light when Jemma's body jerked. She pushed to the surface since her lungs were burning and coughed before she managed a gulp of air. "Jem-," she didn't get to finish.
"Skye, I can't-" She couldn't finish her sentence because she had to spit a mouthful of salty water. Breathe. I can't breathe. Her throat felt like it was swelling up and her entire body was supercharged with adrenaline. Water was getting into her nose and mouth and she didn't have any time left. She was going to die here and Skye was going to die with her because Jemma asked her to. "Go," she changed her mind. There was only a few feet left before the entire cabin was filled with water and Jemma didn't know how close Skye was to getting her out.
"Jem - yes you can," Skye quickly grabbed Jemma by the edge of her jaw and neck to hold her up over the water line. She was about to pep talk Jemma into some deep breaths to prepare to go under. It was terrifying to watch but Skye had no choice. Then Jemma said that word and Skye's face darkened. She let go and then hooked Jemma under her arms and braced her feet on the seat on either sides of the chair. It pulled Jemma just an inch or so higher above the water. "Don't you dare," She ordered Jemma firmly. "I don't break promises and you're not going to make me start now - Jemma!" She shouted to get her full attention. "We're almost there - thirty seconds. You can hold your breath that long, alright? Slow! Deep breaths. We go under at the same time and I finish cutting. Hey - HEY!" She screamed and shook Jemma. "We go on three, ready? 1…" She took a deep breath and exhaled it. "2!" One more deep breath and exhaled it. "A long one okay? 3!" She inhaled a long deep breath and waited for Jemma to do the same before she dove back under and went back to work on the seat belt strap. She counted in her head, glancing toward Jemma every few seconds without stopping the frantic sawing she did against the thick strap.
When Jemma's body started jerking, no doubt using up her oxygen quicker because of the panic, Skye pushed up to the air pocket. She gasped for a few breaths and then dove under. This time, she grabbed Jemma by each side of her jaw and propelled herself forward until she was able to clamp her mouth over Jemma's. Her tongue surged out to push against Jemma's lips and teeth, to get her to open her jaw and as soon as she did, Skye forced out all the air in her lungs to send it down into Jemma's. She let go immediately and made another trip into the air pocket to grab another gulp of air for herself. C'mon Jem, we're almost there, just a little longer. Hold on , hold on. Please just hold on. Just a few more seconds. Skye sawed so fast she was sure it would have sparked the strap to fire if they weren't underwater. She had less than half an inch to go and it would break free.
Jemma kept her jaw clamped shut, not daring to let even a tiny bit of gifted air out, even if it was already carbon dioxide instead of oxygen. She closed her eyes and tried to remain still to conserve it and remain calm. The pounding of her heartbeat got louder and louder until it drowned out the quiet swishing noises Skye was making by moving under the water. Her lungs began burning before the tension connecting her to the chair was gone. She couldn't help but try to stretch and reach the surface above, but it was quickly getting further and further away from her.
When she felt she had no other option, Jemma sank down and tried to launch herself up, but the seatbelt partially over her stomach forced the air out of her mouth. Large bubbles escaped and darted to the surface and Jemma reached out at them even though they weren't something tangible she could catch again. Even if it wasn't breathable air, it had filled the space in her lungs. Now that they were empty, Jemma's body reflexively inhaled no matter how desperately she fought not to. Her lungs had hurt before, but once they filled with saltwater they stung and Jemma was overwhelmed by an all encompassing panic. She tried struggling out of the seatbelt, but it was too tight. She was making the motions like she was trying to swim up, but it wasn't getting her anywhere. She expelled the water inside her, but there was nothing but more for her to suck back in and it felt like her head was near exploding. She jerked wildly as she felt the darkness taking over and she reached for Skye, finding her shoulder and gripping it tightly before it released and her body went limp.
Skye didn't have time to go for a new breath of air. She kept sawing away. She felt Jemma struggling but she was almost done! She was almost done! Just a few seconds longer! Until Jemma grabbed her shoulder. Skye looked up through the murky water and saw Jemma's face in the light from the flashlight in her lap facing upward. No, she thought, No, no, no, no, no! Jemma's eyes were open and she was perfectly still. "JEMMA!" Skye didn't realize she'd actually screamed her name underwater until a rush of liquid surged down her throat into her lungs. She pushed her way to the surface and gagged, heaving up a gullet of water and coughed. "No...no, no, no, no, no, no," She gasped it out through staggered rapid breaths. Fuck no! It wasn't going down this way. Skye was not breaking her promise! She wasn't leaving this fucking plane without Jemma.
Skye gulped the largest lung full of air she could manage and dove back under. Fifteen seconds - it was only fifteen more seconds before the strap sprung free and Jemma's body started to float from the seat. Skye hooked her under the arms and pulled her up into the air pocket, holding her up with an arm around the front of her collarbones, gripping her by her neck and jaw. "Jem!" She shouted between gasps for air. "JEMMA!" She screamed the name and slapped at Jemma's cheeks. "You're free...you're free, you're free, come on - JEMMA!" The panic, this time, gripped Skye. She'd promised to get Jemma out of here, Jemma could not be dead. Skye looked around her. She couldn't stay in the tail. She couldn't stay in the tail and she wasn't leaving Jemma behind.
"Okay," Skye said as if Jemma were there with her and awake. "Okay, it's okay. It's okay we can fix this…" Her teeth were the ones chattering now. Skye grabbed the flashlight, took a handful of deep breaths after counting to three and then she dove under the water. She pulled Jemma with her, kicking her legs and pulling them through the plane together, gripping at anything that she could use to propel them faster. By the time she was out of the open end of the plane's tail, her lungs were on fire but she kicked and pulled and kicked and she didn't stop until she was at the surface. She pulled Jemma free and brought her up so the back of her head was against Skye's chest and shoulder, her arm was wrapped around Jemma, holding her by her jaw and neck again to keep her head above the water. She was expecting to see the emergency rafts, inflated and filled with survivors.
Instead, when her eyes adjusted, she saw...fire? There was fire and it lit up everything around it - the front end of the plane, sitting on a beach with trees and - beach. There was a beach. Land. Solid ground. Skye gaped for only a second. A third (or was it fourth by that point?) surge of adrenaline rushed through Skye. "Don't you dare think you're leaving me now," Skye kicked wildly to tread water. She regretted putting her jacket and shirt back on because she was cold on the plane. Her messenger bag and her boots kept trying to pull her under too. There was nothing Skye could do about it right then though. Right in that moment, her only goal was to get Jemma to the shore and get her breathing again. With only one arm to pull her and both her weighed down legs to kick, Skye franticly sloshed her way through the water, pulling Jemma, towing her into the shore, dead weight, with her head above the water.
"C'mon Jem, we're almost there," She murmured to herself through her gritted teeth. "C'mon Jem, we're almost there," She repeated it again and again, unaware of the tears streaking her cheeks since she was covered in saltwater anyway.
When they started reaching the shallows, Skye timed her kicks and wild arm swings to the swells to use them to propel them both to shore. The beach was...chaos. There was fire. There was screaming. People were running around. There was blood. There were people floating burnt and dead in the water. There were limbs. Skye saw an arm, just an arm, attached to nothing, but her brain didn't process any of it. Her brain processed only how close she was to getting Jemma onto the shore, how close she had been to getting the belt cut in time. A wave crashed into Skye's back as she hauled Jemma up, an arm wrapped around her back and one hooked under her knees. A wave of pain hit her upper right side when she pushed to her feet and began to slosh to the beach, one foot in front of the other as if she were running a marathon through knee deep water. She ground her teeth together, ignored the pain and kept pushing through every sunken foot in the wet sand.
Skye didn't stop until she was on the dry sand. Even then she remained in motion. She laid Jemma down and dropped next to her on her knees. Skye threw her messenger bag off. She yanked her jacket off and dropped it and then tilted Jemma's head back all the way. She pinched Jemma's nose shut and leaned over, clamping her mouth over Jemma's again and watching the woman's diaphragm rise as she forced the air into Jemma's lungs. She gave it two breaths and then dropped her ear to Jemma's chest while feeling around with two fingers on her neck for a pulse. Nothing. No heartbeat. No pulse. No breathing. "C'mon Jem, c'mon," She murmured.
Fitz found them but Skye couldn't pay attention to him. She didn't hear what he said but she pushed his hands away, pinched Jemma's nose and forced two more breaths down into her lungs. Her hands traced Jemma's ribcage to the middle of her sternum and she clamped one over top of the other, folded her hands into a single tight ball, locked her elbows and began to forcefully bounce as much jolting weight as she could on the spot, counting out two compressions for every second 1-2, 3-4, 5-6, 1-2, 3-4, 5-6. Every set of twelve, she moved and forced more air into Jemma's lungs. Skye didn't stop once. She let the tears fall as she called Jemma's name between counts and breaths and they mingled with sweat and seawater but Skye didn't stop. She didn't let anything else stop her either. "C'mon Jemma!" She screamed breathlessly.
"JEMMA!" Fitz's shriek was easy to distinguish even over all the other screaming. He dropped into the sand on the opposite side of her from Skye and grabbed her hand, squeezing tightly. She was cold and pale and her lips were turning blue. She wasn't responding to Skye's attempts at CPR.
"What happened?" He yelled. If Skye hadn't been trying to resuscitate her than he would have shoved her. He was angry and scared and she was there to blame. "You said you would get her out!" He yelled accusingly. "What took you so long?!" He was rubbing up and down Jemma's arm, trying to help warm her up. It did little to no good, but he had to do something and it looked like if Fitz tried to take over the CPR Skye would punch him.
Fitz didn't need to scream any of those things at Skye. Skye was already thinking them herself. Rather than give into the childish want to scream at Fitz to shut the fuck up since he hadn't done anything useful to get Jemma out of the plane, Skye only pushed harder. She most definitely would have punched Fitz's nose up unto his skull if he tried to stop her for any reason, even if it was to try and take over.
So Skye kept counting. Twelve compressions, two breaths, screaming for Jemma to come back - repeat, repeat, repeat. In a fit of desperation, Skye let go of Jemma's chest from the compressions balled up her fist as tight as it would wind and slammed it as hard as she could into Jemma's chest. She'd once watched a cardiologist do this in an elevator when someone collapsed. "Jemma, COME ON!" she screamed. She leaned over and did two more breaths and then she was back up with another slam of her fist, and then a second, a third, a fourth. Skye was fully crying by then. She leaned over for another two breaths. "Jem, Please," She begged between them. Fitz was still shrieking but Skye just fucking ignored him. She wound her fist up and swung again. "I CAN DO THIS ALL NIGHT JEMMA!" She screamed at her and swung again in frustration, and then again and then-
Like she was never gone, Jemma was stuck back into her body and her eyes flashed open. They closed again in pain when a lurching cough took over her whole body and her torso jerked six inches off the ground with it. Water rushed out of her lungs and ran down her cheeks into the sand as her body fell back, exhausted. She coughed again and again, struggling to breathe, and it seemed like there was endless water in her chest. She was sobbing along with it and she was near suffocating all over again as she fought against gravity to expel all the water from her lungs when her chest was in so very much pain.
Skye was mid-swing when Jemma's eyes popped open and her body suddenly jerked up. She'd just barely seen it through her blurred vision. She actually screamed in surprise and immediately pulled her swing, stopping it by yanking her arm back and catching it simultaneously with her other hand at the wrist. In the next second, Jemma was coughing and sputtering out water and Skye immediately reached down and rolled her onto her right side and smacked at her back to help her get it out. "Jemma!" The name was a gasp with the shallow gulps of air Skye managed. She fought the urge to pull Jemma up into her lap and hug her, to hold onto her. "You're out," It was just a murmur at first but a sob escaped from Skye too. She leaned over close to Jemma's ear as she held onto her arm and smacked at her back just to make sure all the water came out. "You're out, it's okay, you're okay," She murmured it in almost nonsensical spurts between her jerky sobs and her own staggered breaths. "Breathe, Jem, you're okay - you're out."
When Jemma finally took her first breath free of water, it sounded asthmatic because she was sucking in with so much force. It took several for it to even qualify as just gasping for breath and not imploding her lungs. She saw dark sky and felt the chilly air across her wet clothes, and more startlingly, sand. She was covered in it and it stuck to her face and got in her eyes. She even inhaled some in her frantic attempt to catch her breath. She saw Skye's thighs, since she was facing her, but it was Fitz who seemed to notice her distress about the fine sand first and as soon as she stopped losing water weight with her exhales, he tilted her head back up and started wiping the sand out of her eyes and off her face with his hand and some of his shirt.
"Skye," Jemma tilted her head to face forward again and whimpered at herself and the pain it brought to her temple. She could see Skye's tear stricken face with the backdrop of a black, star speckled horizon and a blazing inferno that was the front of the plane. She was almost glad she'd been in the back. Almost.
"You..." she breathed. She was still struggling and her breathing was shaky, but very much active. She was alive. "...did it." She spoke on exhales only, not willing to waste a moment not breathing. She sounded surprised, but also very happy. She closed her eyes. She was so tired.
Skye's shoulders shook and a few sobs escaped before she could stop them. Jemma was breathing. Jemma was breathing! She squeezed Jemma's shoulder and then quickly let go as Fitz started wiping at the sand bits. She grabbed her leather jacket and balled it up. "You didn't make it easy, Doc," She said through a sniffle and a severely tiny smile.
Skye very gently moved her hand under the back of Jemma's head and neck and lifted it up just enough to get the jacket under her. It was cold out of the water with the breeze blowing but Skye didn't care. She grabbed her overshirt from the bottom hem and hoisted it up and over her head, leaving her back to just her tank top. Once Fitz finished wiping at the sand in Jemma's face, She moved so she was kneeling at the top of Jemma's head. She turned her shirt inside out hoping to keep the sandy parts out of the way. She balled it up, wrung and squeezed it out and then she moved to press it against Jemma's head. She grimaced as she did it. "Sorry," She said as she applied pressure to it to get the gash to stop bleeding. Her own wound was barely bleeding anymore, at least the one on her temple. She pressed the shirt down firmly with one hand and the other she wiped off on her tank top and then used to stroke Jemma's cheek and to squeeze her shoulder. On impulse, she leaned over and kissed Jemma's uninjured temple. "I thought you were gone," she couldn't stop herself from sniffling.
Jemma sighed at the relief of lying on her back again with the jacket elevating her head, and of being able to breathe at all. She felt Skye's lips on her temple and reached up and rested a hand on Skye's head. It was still shaky, as she was sure her body temperature was still not quite back to normal.
"I thought I was too." Jemma's eyes were still closed but they would both know she was ok by the steady rise and fall of her chest and the color slowly starting to darken in her face. Jemma had nearly forgotten about Fitz until he started fussing over her again. He continued wiping all the sand he could away from her face and he snatched Skye's shirt from her. He stretched it out and started tying it around Jemma's head, asking Skye to hold her up while he got it under. This way the pressure continued to stay applied and covered even if they stopped holding it. Jemma's left eye was covered, but it was better than nothing.
Fitz picked up her hand again and kissed it, telling her how sorry he was that he didn't know what to do and that he had tightened her seatbelt so much, even though that had nothing to do with it. Jemma loved him, she really did, but his voice was bothering her and she needed a minute to just breathe and come back completely from... wherever she had been. Her eyes were still closed and Jemma was dangerously close to falling asleep.
Skye almost snatched her shirt back and punched Fitz when he pulled it away from the wound. She acquiesced, however and held Jemma's head up when she realized what he was doing. There was a momentary twinge of jealousy at Fitz's intimate touch and the way he kissed Jemma's hand but it was greatly outweighed by the overwhelming relief that Jemma was alive when there was a long while there that she very certainly was not. "Hey," Skye touched Jemma's cheek again after wiping her hand off one more time on her shirt. "Jem...don't sleep yet," Jemma could have a concussion, right? She shouldn't sleep, that was a thing wasn't it? Skye looked around them for anything useful. There was still chaos and there was a large part of Skye that itched to help, but her need to take care of Jemma right that moment overrode the urge. "Just a little longer, okay, we'll get you warmed up and-,"
A blood curdling scream ripped across the beach and Jemma's uncovered eye flashed back open. That was right. She hadn't just drowned. The plane had crashed with hundreds of people on it and they were everywhere and- Jemma sat up so suddenly she could feel blood ooze from her head wound. She was dizzy but it was clear what was going on. She saw the bodies and the flames and she had never been so horrified in her life. She placed a hand behind her in the sand and bent a leg underneath her to get up, but Fitz's hands were on her in a moment, trying to get her to lay back down maybe a little too gruffly. She landed in the sand with a huff and still stared past Skye, eyes glazed over.
"Give it a few more minutes. You just came back from the dead." Fitz told her. He kept a hand on her shoulder so she didn't try to get up and looked to Skye, hoping she agreed.
Skye's hands struggled. She wanted to push Jemma to ease her back down when she bolted upright like that but instead she reached out to put her hands on Jemma's back. She was just about to crawl forward so Jemma wouldn't fall back into the sand with Fitz pushed her down. "Easy! She's injured!" Skye shoved Fitz's shoulder. She looked down at Jemma and settled her hand on the uninjured side of Jemma's face again. "I hate to agree with the monkey," She said with a nod toward Fitz. "But...you should probably rest, Jem. You lost a lot of blood and…" She paused and grimaced as the mental images of drowned Jemma flashed behind her eyes. "Just a few minutes, okay?" She asked it, didn't order it. The varying screams were really tweaking her adrenaline back into gear but she refused to leave Jemma's side. Call it selfish, maybe, but Skye didn't care right then.
Jemma didn't answer verbally, but she nodded and tried not to let the tears gathering up in her eyes spill over. There were people screaming and crying and in god knows what amount of pain and Jemma couldn't stand to hear it. She was a doctor, maybe the only one, even if she wasn't exactly the type of doctor they needed. But she was a doctor.
"No, I have to help." It hadn't been a few minutes, but about ten seconds before Jemma pushed herself up again and shoved Fitz away when he tried to grab her. She got up on wobbly limbs and took a deep breath. She had to close her eyes and prepare herself to go into doctor mode. She didn't know what she was about to see but she knew she wouldn't be able to unsee it.
Skye's own eyes were welled up but she did her best to keep the tears at bay. She also did her best to try and cover Jemma's ears because of the screams. It didn't last very long. Less than a minute. Jemma was on the move again. Skye quickly pulled herself to her feet and reached out to to steady Jemma with an arm around her waist even though the swift movement left her dizzy for a moment too. "Okay," She leaned over enough to grab her bag, unsure if there'd be anything useful Jemma could use in it. "I'll go with you and if you need to stop, you just...we'll figure it out." She decided. Skye was freaked out. Jemma had barely been back for a few minutes and she was already on her feet again. Skye would have preferred she rested but if she was this determined, Skye would help, if that was the only thing she could do, until Jemma needed to collapse and then Skye would fuss over her as much as possible.
When Jemma opened her eyes, they were less teary and more focussed. Her eyes had hardened some. She had seen mass death by disease. Bodies, death, and suffering were not new to her, but that didn't mean it wasn't going to be hard. Because it was.
"Fitz, I need you to start going through bags. Fetch any prescription medication, especially anything ending in mycin or cillin. Hurry!" She griped at him and Fitz was off down the beach, crouching and digging through possible medicine pockets of the first bag he could find. Jemma, she wrapped her arm around Skye's waist in return for the support and led them toward the first people she saw. She vaguely remembered them having an animated conversation in the terminal, but she had been having her own so it was difficult to say.
Jemma wanted to throw up. The young man was crouched over his friend (or lover, Jemma didn't know). Her hand was cut clean off and a massive red splotch was growing in the sand. It took Jemma only a moment to assess before she went into another mental place.
"My name is Jemma, I'm a doctor. Let me see." Jemma knelt next to the woman. She was groaning and Jemma realized she was the one who had screamed.
"Thank god. You've got to help her. I'm Hunter. Her name is Izzy, do something, please." The British man, apparently named Hunter, was begging her. Jemma nodded and loosened the necktie from her collar, careful to avoid messing up her own medical care as she got it over her head.
"Skye, I need you to find something, any wood or anything, light it on fire. I need a fire." Jemma requested. She unknotted the tie and tied it about six inches above the amputation site on the woman's arm.
"Hello, Izzy. Try to stay calm for me, it will slow your bleeding."
Skye felt her stomach roil when she saw the end of the woman's arm. She swallowed back the bile that rose to the back of her throat as she helped Jemma down to the sand. Even though Jemma had sent Fitz on an errand, but she hadn't realized she would need to leave Jemma's side. She frowned and set her bag down next to Jemma and hesitated for just a moment. Then, she stood and took off sprinting away.
If one thing could be said about Skye, it was that she was fit and she was a fucking fast runner. She ran for the edge of the beach toward the jungle but did so at an angle that put her close to a flaming piece of one of the wings. She found a thick fallen branch and grabbed some palm fronds and wrapped them around the end of the branch then ran to the closest plane fire she could find to light the end of the branch. Once it had a flame on it, Skye sprinted again. She leaned over and hooked the handle of a duffel bag on her way by without stopping, hoping it had something useful inside.
"Got it," By the time Skye landed, breathless, in the Sand next to Jemma, it had only been a short couple of minutes. She dropped the duffel, unzipped it and dumped it out with one hand while she held the branch and waited for instructions from Jemma.
"Good work." Jemma squeezed Skye's arm and took the flaming branch from her. Both Hunter and Izzy gave her a wild look and Jemma was sure she would be giving herself the same look if she were one of them. Jemma wasn't even a trauma surgeon, she was just a biochemist with a wealth of knowledge about the human body. She was probably Izzy's best shot though, so she had to act like she had done this a thousand times to not scare her.
"Your arteries have been severed so I have to cauterize it before you bleed out. I'm sorry. It's going to hurt." Jemma's voice was as soft and gentle as she could manage and she kept the worry and the desire to scream in her own head.
Skye's eyes widened. Cauterize, she definitely knew what that meant. She moved from Jemma's side to just about Izzy's head and leaned down to hold her down by her biceps with as much of her weight as she could leverage in anticipation of the woman writhing around from the painful thing about to happen to her.
Jemma waited until the leaves on the branch burned out and the wood was red-hot. She pressed it against Izzy's arm and rolled it quickly to cover the whole space. It was better without anticipation, but Jemma still cringed at the shriek the woman made and the pitiful whimper Hunter made.
Skye clenched her eyes shut against the scream she let out. When she opened her eyes, she looked at Jemma, studying her to make sure she was alright and still capable of doing what she was doing.
"Izzy?! What happened?" Hunter suddenly shouted. Jemma frowned and looked closer. Izzy's eyes were closed.
"She probably fell unconscious from the pain." Jemma assured him, but after taking a closer look she was concerned. Two fingers shot to the pulse point at Izzy's jugular and Jemma knew within seconds that she was gone. "I'm sorry..." Jemma muttered under her breath. The tears she had tried to hold back from before broke the dam and were set loose when Hunter's face contorted in confusion and desperation.
"Did you kill her?" He was enraged, and he seemed apt to attack Jemma, but he cooled down and his focus went to Izzy instead. He started sobbing and Jemma knew she couldn't give up. Skye hadn't given up on her.
"Let me try-" Jemma got on top of Izzy, straddling her, and began chest compressions with as much force as she could manage. She knew there was no blood left for Izzy's heart to pump, but she continued with compressions on the dead woman anyway with Hunter watching, in tears. She continued with compressions until a tiny dribble of her own blood made it past her makeshift bandage and was diverted to the side at her eyebrow. She couldn't stop and the longer she went the more she knew she wouldn't be able to help everyone.
Skye watched the whole scene play out. She was already moving to block Hunter when she thought he might go after Jemma but she, thankfully, didn't have to. She flinched when Jemma began doing CPR. She moved next to Izzy's shoulder and tilted her head back, counting in her head as Jemma worked and alternating with her to get some breaths in every certain number of intervals. Her eyes stayed on Jemma and she wondered if this what the the mess Skye had looked like while doing CPR on Jemma. Hunter was still crying. Skye knew this was fruitless. It was different than with Jemma. Jemma hadn't bled out. Jemma was going to exhaust herself and Skye knew there were still people she'd want to help. So Skye moved again, down the body and next to Jemma. She reached out and put her hand on Jemma's closest forearm to stall her compressions. "Jem…" She said gently.
Jemma froze and her head whipped to face Skye. Her eyes were wild and her hands were clenched together so tightly her knuckles were white. She couldn't save her. She didn't have anywhere near the level of equipment she would have needed to save Izzy. They hadn't found any antibiotics and even if they did they weren't guaranteed to work against the bacteria they could pick up. She couldn't save everyone and she was going to have to face that reality. She had to pick and choose who she was going to try to save.
"Are you a doctor?" Someone nearby shouted. Jemma got up off of Izzy's body and wavered some in the sand. She saw a middle aged man carrying a smaller Asian woman who appeared to be the pilot. She wondered if that was who was going to die next.
"Sort of, yes, I-"
"We just got the pilot and copilot out of the cockpit, but she has a shard of glass in her stomach." Now this Jemma might be able to help with. She gestured for the man to put her down and Jemma knelt next to her. The ID tag said her name was Melinda May. She seemed moderately conscious and Jemma began ripping her shirt to get it away from the wound site.
Skye moved along with Jemma. When she wavered, Skye's hands reached out automatically to steady her. It was a terrible situation. There was just no way around that.
"Melinda, is it? My name is Jemma, I'm going to help you. Try to stay still." The pilot nodded and just as Jemma finally finished getting the white-now red material out of the way, Fitz came barreling toward them from further down the sand. He stopped just in front of Jemma and bent over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. For a moment Jemma was afraid he found another dying patient, but then he held out a travel size sewing kit and a bottle of aspirin.
"Skye, I need more fire. I'm going to need to sterilize a needle." Jemma forced May's mouth open and sighed in relief when she found no blood other than from a cut on her lip. No internal organs had been punctured by the glass. This one wasn't hopeless.
Skye quickly moved through the duffel bag's contents. She laid the items she thought would be useful next to Jemma on top of the bag – a couple of shirts, laces Skye tugged free from a pair of tennis shoes, an unopened bottle of water, and a pack of travel wet wipes. She didn't get to keep sifting, though, because Jemma needed more fire. Skye was up on her feet and running as soon as Jemma said the word 'fire,' before she'd explained why.
This time, Skye remembered that her multiuse paracord bracelet had a flint and metal scratcher so she could spark them to ignite a first, so she ran straight inland along the beach, a shorter distance than she ran before. She gathered an armful of palm fronds and tall grass and a second loose long branch and raced back to Jemma. She dropped the items and used her foot, stepping on one end of the long branch and pulling the other end hard with her arms to snap it into about five small 'logs.' Quickly, she piled the logs and covered them with the mostly dried bits of kindling she was using the palms for.
Skye unhooked her bracelet and pulled the metal rake out. She angled the flint an inch or two above the small pile and began to strike the flint with the side of the metal scraper. It took two or three rapid strikes but the palms and dry grass caught the sparks and began to burn. Skye slipped the scraper back into place and hooked the bracelet on then leaned over, cupped her hands and blew onto the pile to stoke the fire until the branches caught. She grabbed the unburnt end of the first branch she had brought Jemma and once the flames were crackling, she added the burnt end of the branch into the fire so it would catch the flames in case Jemma needed to use it for cauterizing again.
When it was all said and done, she moved back over to Jemma's side. "What can I do?" She asked just to let Jemma know she was back and there to help with whatever was needed.
"Do you still have that flashlight?" Jemma questioned, never taking her eyes away from her current patient. She took the things Fitz and Skye had found and sent up off again. First she found two large rocks on the ground around her and used them to bend a needle from the sewing kit until it was a smooth curve.
Skye nodded. She scrambled back to where she'd done CPR on Jemma, grabbed her messenger bag and the flashlight and ran back to Jemma's side. She held the flashlight aimed downward at the pilots stomach where Jemma worked and braced her wrist with her other hand to keep the light steady so it didn't shake.
Once Skye had the flashlight over her work space, Jemma tore the shirt from her face. She couldn't give stitches if her depth perception was off because she only had one eye. Blood dribbled from the wound, but it didn't get past her eyebrow this time.
She rinsed her hands with some of the water and very carefully removed the glass at precisely the same angle in went in. Blood immediately began filling the space the glass once was and Jemma grabbed one of the shirts.
"Apply pressure." Jemma pressed the folded shirt against the wound and moved the middle aged man's hands to cover it. When she was satisfied with his efforts, she prepared some black thread on her needle and took a deep breath. Scissors in her left hand and needle in her right, Jemma applied a stitch, let the man- Coulson, as he had introduced himself a moment later- soak up the blood before she did another stitch. It was a slow back and forth process and Jemma's jaw was clenched so tightly it made her head wound start oozing again.
But when she finished, there was an overwhelming sense of pride as Jemma allowed Melinda May to take two of the aspirin tablets, even though she knew it wouldn't do much.
"You stay here, we'll start bringing the wounded here so you don't have to move your supplies or the fire." Coulson suggested. It was a good idea and Jemma nodded in agreement, trying to catch her breath and cool down before someone brought over another case.
Skye set the flashlight down into the sand after Coulson moved the pilot. She placed a hand on Jemma's back and grabbed tell water bottle. She held it up for Jemma. "Drink," she said. Listen, she knew Jemma used it before for cleaning her hands, but it would do nobody any good if Jemma passed out, even if a large part of her still wanted Jemma to rest.
Skye spotted Coulson struggling with helping a man up the beach toward them. Coulson had the guy by the waist with an arm around his shoulders and the man was hopping on his uninjured right leg The left leg was a ghastly sight. The man was soaked. His jeans on the left leg were torn and...there was a giant chunk of flesh, muscle and...bone? missing from the outside of his thigh in the shape of a shark bite.
Skye felt the bile rising in the back of her throat again but she was on her feet again instantly without even consciously thinking about it. She ran to the injured man's left side and slipped herself under his arm. Coulson and Skye gripped him by the back of his belt to get him just high enough off the ground to carry him between the two of them. The man screamed the entire way. They laid him down when they reached Jemma.
"Hey! Hey! What's your name?" Coulson asked the man to make him focus.
"JT," The injured man ground out through gritted teeth.
Skye dropped into the sand next to Jemma, picked up the flashlight and aimed it at the profusely bleeding wound. This guy's luck had been worse than Skye and Jemma's. He'd been bit by a damn shark in the water!
All the color drained from Jemma's face when she saw JT. Any confidence in her ability to help was knocked right out of her. Much of his thigh was gone, bitten clean off, including the whole femoral artery. She couldn't save him even if she had a million dollars worth of equipment on her, she just wasn't that kind of doctor. He was going to die in seconds right in front of her and her pile of the dead would already be bigger than those she healed.
Jemma just shook her head solemnly and took a step back. She couldn't do it and she couldn't lie to them and pretend she could. Tears were filling her eyes and JT and Coulson were looking at her like she'd be able to cure him.
Skye didn't have to be a doctor to know this guy was doomed. She'd hoped to be wrong but she knew from Jemma's reaction that she wasn't. She wanted to comfort Jemma but JT was still alive and in excruciating pain at the moment.
"Coulson, go get the rest of them, we've got this covered," Skye found her voice, though it was breathless. Coulson glanced at her, looked at Jemma and then frowned as the realization hit him. He moved to his feet and backed away before turning to go searching up and down the beach again.
"A-am I g-gonna die...?" JT's words came in shallow gasps of air. Each one was accented with a grunt of pain.
Skye moved until she was kneeling at his head. "Hey, JT," She put her hands on the sides of his head and turned it until his face pointed upward. "I'm gonna distract you from the pain while Jemma patches you up, okay?" she lied. With the loss of blood and the massive injury, she hedged her bets and banked on the fact that he had to be going numb. His skin was cold and clammy and the color was gone from his face. "You let her poke around down there," she gave him a clear view of the starry Skye and kept talking.
"What's your favorite band?" She asked. JT's brow furrowed at the question but it distracted him so Skye forced herself to sound jovial. "Oh, c'mon, man, don't gimme that look - what's your favorite band?"
JT struggled. He thought the bursts of pain he could feel in his leg were from Jemma trying to patch him up. He let Skye keep his head steady and staring at the night sky. "S-Skynyrd..."
Skye forced out a laugh and jokingly (and very gently)smacked the top of his shoulder with the back of her hand. "I knew it! You look the type - scruffy unshaven, leather jacket and tshirt." She smirked at him.
JT made a face but choked out a laugh. His eyes widened, as if he'd just been told the secret. He coughed up some blood and Skye fought against her welling eyes. She stroked his hair and his cheek. She saw the life starting to fade from his wide eyes and she cleared her throat and started slowly singing the only Lynyrd Skynyrd song she actually knew.
If I leave here tomorrow If I stay here with you, love,
Would you remember me?
I must be traveling on now,
There's places I've got to see.
It wouldn't be the same
I'm as free as a bird now
This bird you can't change
This bird you can't change
Skye watched his face the whole time as his breathing slowed. By the time she finished the last line, his chest had stopped rising and falling, his body was limp and his eyes were upward, open wide and blank. Skye sniffled and took a deep breath she wiped a few tears off her cheek and closed JT's eyes. It all happened in just a short couple of minutes among the chaos surrounding them
Skye moved again, finally getting back to the spot next to Jemma. "Jem," she reached out and gently touched Jemma's arm.
Jemma choked on a stifled sob as she stared at JT's body after the beautiful way Skye had helped him when Jemma couldn't. Her hand came up to her mouth as she continued thinking about it and she couldn't help but glance at Izzy. At least May was alive.
"I don't think I can do this." Jemma's shoulders slumped and her tight posture fell apart. She wiped tears from her cheeks and blood from her forehead with the same hand and she wondered how all of this could happen.
Skye felt torn. She wanted to wrap her arms around Jemma and tell her that she didn't have to do anything, that she needed to rest. From the way Jemma had jumped up when she heard those first screams and moved with such determination to help people, Skye knew that wasn't what Jemma needed.
"Hey," she shifted until she was in front of Jemma, held her by the outsides of her arms and ducked until she could catch Jemma's eye. "Jem, you're amazing - you just performed surgery on a beach in the middle of the night after coming back from the dead and saved that woman's life! We can do this." She didn't want Jemma to think she was pep talking her into going at it alone. Skye didn't have the training Jemma had, but she wasn't going anywhere and she was willing to do anything Jemma needed or asked her to do "We can't save all the Izzys and all the JTs, but we can save all the Melindas we can," she pointed out.
Skye reached up and settled her hand on Jemma's right cheek since it was the side without the wound. "We'll do it together. We'll help as many as we can. You can do this - we can do this."
Jemma stared into Skye's eyes and wondered how on earth Skye ended up being so strong. Jemma had only met her less than twenty four hours ago, but she had absolute faith in her and took in every word she said. Every touch made her warmer and less scared. So Jemma nodded and grabbed for the front of Skye's damp tank top. She pulled herself closer and wrapped her arms around Skye's waist. Her forehead rested against Skye's shoulder and she allowed herself a good thirty seconds to cry before anybody else was brought over.
Skye hated the fact that Jemma was crying but she knew it was necessary given the circumstances. She felt relieved to have that very brief moment to hold onto Jemma since the last time she'd had her arms actually around Jemma had been when she was towing her to shore. So she held on and gently cradled the back of her head and stroked her hand in random light circles along her back while trying her absolute best to push all of her own self-doubt, anxiety and clouded emotions to the farthest reaches of her mind so she'd be able to focus.
Sooner than Jemma would have liked, Coulson brought more passengers embedded with shrapnel. Those were the cases she could take care of. Anything else was too difficult without even a knife to cut with. Jemma had to turn some away with a sad nod and Skye would safely guide them to the other side before making her way back to help. To conserve thread, she cauterized smaller wounds when she could. Her section of the beach wasn't a pretty one. They had to keep moving slightly so they weren't sitting in red sand, but she saved more lives than she thought she could.
After what seemed like hours, there was no one left screaming. Moaning in pain, plenty were laying side by side in the "hospital". It was pitch black, only lit by the moon, the fire from the plane's engine, and small fires Skye lit across the beach. People were freezing and huddling around them, but nobody dared go near the plane in case there was something left to explode. Their number of survivors was no more than forty, but Jemma had saved many of them. She was exhausted and finally sat in the sand by a fire Skye had made just for the two of them and Fitz. They sat quietly, listening to the crackle of the fire and the sounds of insects in the jungle, Jemma in the middle, Skye on her left and Fitz on her right. Blood still traveled down her face and the total loss was making her feel woozy, but Jemma was beyond caring. She knew the continued bleeding meant it needed stitches, but she didn't want to do it herself and was delaying it as long as possible.
Skye wound up on Jemma's left, which gave her a good look, in the fire light, at the fact that her wound was still bleeding. She could see the exhaustion wearing on Jemma and, frankly, was amazed she hadn't collapsed. With her own adrenaline beginning to wane, Skye felt exhausted and sore. She imagined that Jemma had to be in much greater states of ache and exhaustion than her. Yet she was still awake and she'd helped all those people. See. This was why she'd said Jemma was amazing. She reached out and carefully tucked some stray strands of Jemma's hair behind her ear. "I think it's your turn, Doc," she said. She dug through her messenger bag and came up with another of her protein bars like the one she gave Fitz earlier. She held it out for Jemma. "Why don't you take a few bites and then we'll fix up your forehead?" she also handed over a bottle of water she'd come across while making her way around to start the fires for people.
As brief as the touch was, Jemma hummed and leaned into it slightly while it was there. At the offer of food, however, Jemma's stomach rumbled and she was suddenly all too aware of her human needs. She was hungry and thirsty and much too tired to stay up all night and watch the wounded.
"Thank you." Jemma opened up the protein bar, but there was absolutely no chance she was going to eat it herself, and the same with the water. She would share it with everyone if she could, but her present company was enough. She split the bar into three, handed a piece to Fitz, popped hers into her mouth, and forced the last piece in the wrapper back into Skye's hand. She drank very close to exactly a third of the water before passing it to Fitz. He drank half of what was left and it came back to Skye.
"It probably needs stitches, but I don't have a mirror." Jemma cringed when she prodded at it at felt more hot, sticky liquid dribble down to her eyebrow.
Skye was too tired to fight Jemma on splitting the bar. She ate her piece and tucked the wrapper into her bag. When the water came back to her, Skye only took two mouthfuls. Either Skye or Fitz was going to have to stitch Jemma up and they were going to need clean hands.
Skye made a face. "You don't have to stitch yourself up, Jem," She grabbed her flashlight and leaned to toss it to Fitz. "Fitz and me can do it," She looked past Jemma at Fitz. "Hold the light, I'll get the sewing kit?" she arched her eyebrows. Internally, the idea of sewing bits of someone back together made her stomach churn, but for Jemma? Skye would do it without protest just as she had helped however possible with the other injured.
"You? You don't have any medical training!" Fitz protested. The thought of the random stranger trying to thread his friend's face back together gave him the chills. Just the idea of either of them giving Jemma sutures without anesthetics made him sick to his stomach, but he'd rather do it himself than entrust Jemma's health to someone else.
Skye blinked. She honestly hadn't expected that outburst from him. It was true, at best, Skye had the basics of first aid - CPR, stop the bleeding, call for help. There weren't many options in the middle of the night on a deserted island after crashing a fucking plane in the middle of who knew where. She put her hands up in surrender, though she couldn't help the frowning glare she shot Fitz for the wound he jabbed at her pride in that moment.
"Fitz!" Jemma had been half asleep, but she was awake the moment Fitz seemed to be attacking Skye for no reason. "Neither do you. And you're squeamish, I don't want you with a needle anywhere near my face when there's blood." Jemma snapped at him with a biting tone. His mouth had been open, about to give more protest, but it slowly shut and he submitted to his role as lamp.
Skye almost smirked at Fitz when Jemma put him in his place, but she managed to bite the inside of her cheek and be mature about everything. She was nervous however as she stared down at the sewing kit.
Jemma turned to Skye then, who had the sewing kit open and was staring at it, unsure. Jemma threaded the curved needle herself, but she couldn't just let Skye guess. She needed to teach her the basic idea first. "Let me see your finger," Jemma requested. Skye gave her a strange look and Jemma laughed. "I'm just going to show you, I'm not going to actually stick you."
Skye still felt a little dubious, but it was nice to hear Jemma laugh for a second. So she held her hand out to give Jemma hr finger and paid extremely close attention to everything she said and did.
"Obviously you're going to need to get the needle through my skin instead of just wrapping it around-" Jemma made a "u" under Skye's finger with the thread. "But you'll need to try to do a knot like this so it doesn't come undone." Jemma slowed down what was more of a muscle memory movement at this point so Skye could see how she did it.
"It's not just a back and forth coil kind of thing. You have to do one at a time." Jemma tied off the knot and showed her once more for extra measure.
"And don't go too close to the cut when you get the needle through," Jemma didn't like imagining it going through her own skin, mostly because she was going to be awake with no numbing medication. But she had helped people through much worse today? So she was sure she could take it. "If it's not far enough away from the wound the thread could go through and the stitch will pop." Jemma explained. She didn't want to scare her, but she'd also not have to keep having it redone. "Shoot for just over a millimeter from the wound. If I wanted it clean I'd say closer, but I think I'll take the scar on this one." Jemma tried to joke. When they were rescued it was going to heal funny, but it was better than leaving it open.
"Try to get the stitches three millimeters from each other. I don't know how many it will take." Jemma sighed. It was a lot to remember. "Do you need me to repeat anything?" She was trying to be purely scientific about it, but she was definitely scared.
Skye took all of it in. She listened to very detail of the instruction and she watched the way Jemma tied the knot so she could copy it. Knots, Skye could do those. She was more practiced in the art of tying them out of ropes, but, well, limited options.
Skye nodded and took a couple of slow breaths while she washed of her hands. She took the threaded needle. "Not at the moment," she assured as she leaned in close to Jemma's face, to the wound. "You just...hold onto whatever you need to, I'll do it as quick as I can without fucking up, okay?" she waited for Jemma to nod before she went to work, letting her mind only repeat the instructions Jemma gave her while she sewed, trying her best to ignore the sounds Jemma made since Skye had no choice but to do this to patch her up.
Jemma's teeth ground together and she could feel every movement Skye was making. Every puncture and tug made her cringe inside, but she didn't let her body move a muscle so they wouldn't have to be redone. That didn't stop her from whimpering every now and then though and Fitz gave her his hand to squeeze. She was counting the stitches and knew it had to be a pretty decent sized gash when she got to seven sutures and Skye was still focused on the task. Fitz had had to look away after two, so she was glad she hadn't put the needle in his hand.
"Are you doing alright?" Jemma asked between sutures, moving her head as little as possible. It felt silly since she was the one being stitched up, but she imagined it was a difficult job for someone who had never pierced another person's skin with a needle.
Skye took careful breaths while she worked; in through the nose, slowly out through her mouth when she could turn her head enough not to blow hot air and germs into Jemma's open wound. Her hands wanted to shake. Skye could feel the urge to tremor in them but she forced them to remain steady. "Oh, I'm right as rain, Doc," she said. "Just another day at the beach, yeah?" she paused between stitches, unable to help the stupid joke because of her nerves. "Are you alright?" she asked, dropping her gaze to watch Jemma's eyes for a moment. Admittedly, she was rather proud of herself for not being a squeamish baby like Fitz after he made that show of masculinity moments ago. She'd practically expected him to beat on his chest like a gorilla when he'd shouted at her about her lack of training.
"Just peachy." Jemma joked, but it was pained. It was also ironic, since her face was far from peach colored. It hadn't quite gained back all of its color since she had gone under the water. She attributed it to the blood loss, so she was hoping she'd be feeling better once her head wound was sealed. While Skye took her short break, Jemma's tongue darted out and she licked her lips. They were dry and chapped from the coastal winds, lack of water, and having sat still for so long.
"Is it finished yet?" Fitz peeked at Skye and questioned. Jemma just rolled her eyes.
"Almost," Skye said as she got back to work, but she'd spotted the way Jemma licked her lips. They'd need to find more water. "There's more water still in that bottle," she told Jemma. " If you're thirsty," She kept working and finally finished after a total count of 16 stitches. She used the scraper from her paracord bracelet to cut off the end after the last knot and out the needle and thread away in the kit after wiping it off on the bottom of her shirt. She sat back on her heels and let her eyes linger on Jemma's for a moment, feeling another surge of relief that they were open, that Jemma was alive. She smiled. "All set," she moved back a bit to give Jemma some space and then tiredly stood up.
"I'll go see if I can find anymore water," she wiped her hands on her shirt and jeans and then reached up with her right hand to scratch at some of the itchy, dried blood on the side of her face that needed to be cleaned off.
"We shouldn't scavenge any more for ourselves. The group should collect all the fresh water we have and start to ration it-" Jemma started her tangent about what she thought the group should be doing next, but when she looked up at Skye her words caught in her throat. She had been scanning bodies that came to her for injuries all night, but the one she had forgotten to check was Skye's. Skye had saved her life and she hadn't even given her a look over other than determining that her head would heal on its own. But now, when Skye had no jacket and was down to her tank top, in the light of the fire, Jemma could see the large splotch of blood at the top of her ribcage under her right arm.
"You're hurt!" Jemma's voice was laced with guilt. She should have checked to make sure Skye was ok before she had gone to help everyone else on the plane first. She felt she owed a debt, but that wasn't the only reason. She was a humanitarian, she cared about helping everyone she could, but it was much more concerning to her that Skye was potentially injured than she would have originally thought. "What happened?"
Skye blinked. "Huh?" Now that everything was done and there seemed to be no immediate threat of danger, no one else screaming from fatal wounds, and Jemma's stitches had been taken care of, Skye's adrenaline had taken a hard nosedive. From the moment she'd stood up, she knew she was going to need to sleep soon. She felt a bit woozy but figured it was from the physical exertion from the last few hours, which was why the water would help. She looked down at the front of herself, expecting to see a wound somewhere but she didn't. When she inhaled a deep breath, she felt the sharp stabbing of pain along the back of her upper right side that had been hitting her off and on throughout the night.
Skye lifted her right arm and looked down and to her side, trying to get a look at what Jemma had seen. When she couldn't see it, she reached her left hand across her body and, sure enough, there was a hole in her tank top and a wet patch surrounded it, the only place on her shirt that was still wet at that point. Her muscles jumped and twitched angrily when she touched the spot and her fingers landed against something sharp. She inhaled a sharp hiss of pain and saw the blood on her palm and fingers when she pulled her hand back out. "It's nothing," She said in a distracted murmur. Her fingers blurred as she looked at them. Skye dropped her hand to her side and swayed slightly in her spot. When her eyes went to Jemma, the double vision was worse. "Just a flesh wound," She muttered in a somewhat slurred, terrible impression of the Black Knight from Monty Python and The Holy Grail. In the next second, Skye felt herself sway and wobble. Her eyes rolled up and everything went dark as she collapsed in an unconscious, motionless heap to the sand.