AUTHOR'S NOTE: Reminder that I changed chapter one all around, so retread that if you read the original version of this story!

One of the things May had been most concerned with after the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. was how difficult it would be to gain access to private facilities. She was never a big fan of undercover, and even if she was it couldn't be used in every situation. Fortunately it wasn't going to be a problem. Fury had somehow managed to stock the playground with all sorts of badges from every government agency, city police force, inspection office, and fire department in the country. If the FBI was on their way to take Wilson in, then Coulson figured it wouldn't be that far a stretch if they arrived to find that the CIA had gotten to him first.

Coulson and May were led down the stark white hallways by a small nurse with slicked back red hair. The only time he stopped talking was when he snapped the gum he was chewing. "He came in just the other day. *snap* Everybody was really freaked out *snap* because of the way he looked. Have you seen him? *snap* Of course you have, you're the government. Anyway he said that he was *snap* losing his mind and needed our help. It's rare that people *snap* check themselves in here without anybody else with them, but at least they're lucid enough to know that they need help."

"Did he have any prior medical history?" asked Coulson. The nurse shook his head.

"*snap* Nope. Then again, what can you expect *snap* when the guy doesn't even know his name? We did *snap* blood tests and everything to make sure he was healthy at least, but those haven't come back yet." He stopped outside the door with a hand on the handle, hesitating. After a moment he turned to May and Coulson. His gum was silent. "Okay, this is gonna sound weird and I don't think I should be telling you guys this, but the guy's scars...they change."

May looked at the man quizzically. "Change how? Is he cutting himself?"

The nudes shook his head again. "There's no way he could get anything to harm himself in here, and even if he was using his own nails there would be blood or scabs. His skin is just warped and every time I look at him it's warped in a different way." He lowered his voice. "Sometimes, when it's been really quiet, I swear I can here it moving. It's this weird squishy sound...gives me the wiggins. It's these kinds of things that make me wish S.H.I.E.L.D. was still around."

The two agents shared a knowing glance. "We'll take it from here" said Coulson. The man nodded and let them into the room.

Wade Wilson lay flat on his bed, flat on his stomach. He stared listlessly at the floor. His arms were rigid beside the rest of his body, and he didn't react at all when the two guests entered the room.

"Mr. Wilson?" Coulson called, closing the door behind him. Still no reaction. "Hello?" Nothing. He turned to May. "The nurse didn't say anything about him being unresponsive."

It was then that the mans head snapped to the side and a sly grin spread on his face. "Why hello there!" he called chipperly. "I didn't notice you come in! Or I ignored you." He shifted and sat on the edge of the bed, then gestured to a small couch on the opposite side of the room. "Come, sit, come, sit, sit, come, sit down, come sit." May and Coulson obliged him. "So, what can I do you for?"

"Mr. Wilson, I'm Agent Coulson and this is Agent May. We're from S.H.I.E.L.D.."

Wilson's grin grew wider. "S.H.I.E.L.D.? Really? For cereal?" He got up and began pacing around the room. "Man, ain't that good to hear. I was concerned that y'all wouldn't be coming down here ever since HYDRA made you look like a bunch of rookies." He giggled, then pointed to Coulson. "You there! I recognize you."

Phil frowned. "I don't recall ever meeting you, Mr. Wilson, though I suppose it is possible that we met in passing during your time as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent."

Wilson rapidly shook his head. "Uh uh. Nope. Ding dong, you're wrong. Oh!" He snapped his fingers in realization. "You were part of the TAHITI Project, weren't you!"

Skye checked her watch. Triplett glanced at her and rolled his eyes. "They're fine. It's only been a few minutes. I'm sure they'll contact us if something comes up."

Skye sighed. "I know, it's just tense. Before we at least had jurisdiction, but now we have to worry about being arrested for conspiracy to commit terrorism. At any minute the FBI might show up and wreck this whole operation."

"Which is why we're out here keeping watch. We've got things under control, for now at least. Why don't we talk about something else?"

Skye smirked. "Alright then. What do you think about -"

"We're not talking about Simmons," Triplett said before Skye could say anything. She made a face.

"I wasn't gonna ask about Simmons," she lied, "I was gonna ask what you thought about Koenig."

Triplett raised an eyebrow. "What is there to think?

"He's exactly like Erik, right down to the same spiel when we showed up. He never seems too torn up about his brother dying, and I've never seem him eat anything or sleep." Skye looked at Triplett to see a reaction, but all she got was cool indifference.

"What are you trying to get at Skye?"

"Well he's obviously a robot!"

Triplett was silent for a few brief seconds, then burst out laughing. Skye frowned. "Hey, shut up! It's a valid theory!"

Triplett shook his head. "I'm sorry it's just...robot? Really? I mean, ignoring the technological limitations of making a working A.I., there's the fact that I was there when Simmons did Erik's autopsy. If there was anything robotic about him she would have found it."

"Well, fine, so Erik was organic. That doesn't mean that Billy is too! Maybe he was a spare in case something happened to the original. Is it really that hard to believe?" Triplett just gave her a look. "Okay, fine, I'll just add artificial intelligence to the list of things that S.H.I.E.L.D. agents don't believe in. It can go right under 'giving up' and over 'psychic powers'."

"Hey, I believe in psychic powers."

Skye rolled her eyes. "Of course you do." She leaned forward in her seat and spotted movement outside the van. "Hold up. I think we've got company." She pulled out a lair of binoculars and gazed across the parking lot. A group of three people climbed out of the unmarked black. An. A vehicle very similar to her team's own. The people wore jackets emblazoned with the FBI logo. "Just like we figured. Message May." Trip pulled put his encrypted cell and typed quickly as Skye kept watching. Two male agents, one female. The woman turned her head to the side, and...shit.

"It's not the FBI," Skye said sternly as she began to rifle through the counterfeit CIA gear they had in the bag beneath her seat.

"What do you mean it's not the FBI? I just told May -"

"It's Raina." Skye pulled on a CIA jacket and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. "How do I look? Federal? Bureaucratic? Investigatory?"

Trip scowled. "Uh uh, Skye, you cannot go in there with her!"

"What am I supposed to do, just sit here? If Raina wants Wilson as much as we and the FBI do then we need to get. Wilson out of there ASAP. Besides, if Raina's still the same girl I know then she never goes anywhere without people who can punch through walls for her. I'm gonna stall her. Do to worry, I have a plan!"

Trip tried to protest more, but Skye was already making her way to the building. He sat back in his seat and grimaced. "That's what I'm afraid of."