Early Enough
Chapter Two

"If you do not change direction, you may end up where you are heading"
~ Gautama Buddha

Fitz went back to the bus but Jemma didn't think she would be able to fall asleep tonight, even though she was bone tired. Maybe later. Maybe in a few days, when the dust settled. Right now she still needed to know Skye's status at all times. She could still feel Skye's blood on her hands.

May and Coulson sat in the waiting area, talking quietly and May looked almost vulnerable. Although... the words "May" and "vulnerable" in one sentence didn't quite compute. Jemma didn't want to intrude so she stood up and walked down the corridor, to Skye's room.

She found Ward standing there, outside the window, arms folded on his chest, staring at his rookie. Jemma let out a quiet sigh as she thought that he had saved Skye's life. If he hadn't been there, if he had been even a minute later, it might all look entirely different. Skye would be dead, they would have lost her and, even though they hadn't known each other all that long, Jemma couldn't imagine losing this newly found friend. Hell, she couldn't imagine losing any of them, Coulson, May or Ward.

He looked so desolate, standing there, like all his world was falling to pieces. Or maybe Jemma herself felt that way, exhausted and restless? She needed some consolation. She thought Ward needed it too.

He didn't seem to notice as she approached. Jemma extended her hand in an attempt to reassure him, started saying some nonsensical words like "She's gonna be okay", but only managed a "she" when her fingers connected with his bicep in the slightest of touches and he spun to her, palms curled in fists, ready to strike.

She jumped back.

He froze mid-move.

Blinked a few times, struggling to recognize her.

"I'm... sorry," Jemma stuttered. "Didn't mean to frighten you."

Ward relaxed. Not much, just a notch. He wiped his face, then ruffled his hair, holding his head with both hands. Walked away a few paces, then returned. Looked at Skye again.

"She's gonna be okay, you know," Jemma, dumbfounded, finished her earlier thought.

"No, she's not," Ward replied immediately and in a voice so low, Jemma wasn't sure if she heard him right.

"Yes," she hurried. "Yes, she is. She's better already, her vitals are stable and she's only sleeping there, see? You may go in." Jemma thought that maybe he needed this reassurance, needed to feel for himself that Skye was alive, real. He kept shaking his head, his eyes glued to Skye's prone form. "You should go inside," Jemma insisted. "You may sit there, I'm sure the nurses wouldn't mind. Hold her hand. You know that human touch..." she hesitated, remembering how he jumped just now, when she touched him. She hadn't paid much attention to it before, but he had always kept his distance and Fitz's displays of affection had made him somewhat uncomfortable. "Human touch is a miracle drug, really," she finished gently, her hand hovering an inch away from his arm. Her instinct was telling her to connect, stroke, maybe even hold him, but she decided it wasn't the best idea. Instead she kept on prattling. "Research on comatose patients shows that even holding their hand leads to more stable body temperature, stronger vital signs and better tolerance of pain. It may have something to do with the polarization of skin, or exchanging the molecules. A kind of biochemical connection-"

"It's Buddy all over again," Ward cut in as if he didn't hear a word she said, lost in his own thoughts.

Buddy, who? Jemma stood silent for a good few seconds, before she blurted, "She will live," because nothing else came to her mind.

Ward shook his head.

"Not if I-" his voice broke, a sob hitched in his chest. Then he squared his shoulders as if readying himself to jump out of a flying plane without a parachute and he breathed out, "Get Coulson here." His eyes were wide and he was hyperventilating.

"Coulson?" Jemma needed a confirmation, being somewhat alarmed by his uncharacteristic behavior and all.

"Shhh." He spun and put his hand on her mouth so fast she didn't even have the time to blink. His frantic eyes scanned the corridor, then he cast a quick glance behind his back and faced her again. "Don't," he whispered with chilling urgency. "Don't let anyone know, you hear me? Don't speak up. No one may know, only Coulson. Get him here as soon as you can, but you can't talk to anyone. Don't tell him it was me, either. Just... Just get him here. Quietly. Please." He released her.

Jemma nodded. She didn't move for a good while though. She didn't understand and she wanted to understand. What happened? What the hell was Ward talking about? Was Skye in danger?

Did someone still want to hurt Skye?

That thought finally forced her to break out of stupor. She would get answers later. Now the most important thing was to ensure Skye's safety. Coulson was the best person to provide security. Jemma walked back to the waiting area as fast as she could, trying not to look as if she was in a hurry at the same time and knowing she was failing on both accounts.

Coulson wasn't there. Only May.

"What happened?" The observant specialist narrowed her eyes at Jemma.

"Oh, nothing." The lie wasn't convincing at all. "I'm looking for Coulson."

May stood up, her gaze scrutinizing, dissecting and Jemma knew she stood no chance.

"It's Ward," she revealed. "He's outside Skye's room and he's acting... not right. He asked for Coulson to come and to not tell anyone, he was very adamant at me not telling anyone. And I just did. But I can trust you, can't I? Please don't tell him that I told you. Oh my God, I am not making any sense."

"Coulson went down to the cafeteria," May replied simply. "Go get him and I..." she cast a glance in a general direction of Skye's room. "I'll happen to wander near Skye's room. Inconspicuously."

Ward was indeed standing right outside Skye's room, leaning on the glass with both hands, his head hung low between his arms, clad in full assault gear, complete with bulletproof vest and all the pistols: night-night guns and real ones all the same. May was certain he had taken it off at some point during the night. Must have put them on again, but why? If all red flags in May's mind weren't raised already after Simmon's near-freak-out, they would have jump up right now.

May knew she walked quietly, stealthily, but Ward heard her nonetheless. His head snapped up and his eyes seized her. There was something wild in them, something she only saw once, when he had been under the influence of the Berzerker staff. She briefly wondered if she'd looked like this too, then, but banished the thought away. There was a more urgent question – why was he like this, now?

"You," Ward breathed out. Then he straightened up, his eyes swept the corridor up and down, scanning for threats, and he spoke in a low voice. "You'll work alright too. You can protect her, maybe even better." He grabbed May's arm, still not looking at her, but everywhere else at once. He still didn't raise his voice above a heated whisper. "You need to get her out of here."

"Why?" May gently removed her arm from his grip.

"She's in danger."

"From who? Quinn is dead."

Ward finally glared at her. She could see he was still in control, but barely. Like, the smallest push in the wrong direction would tear the veil of sanity and he would just become a raging beast.

"Quinn," he seethed, "wasn't acting on his own. He was following orders. From the Clairvoyant. And the Clairvoyant didn't achieve what he wanted."

"Which is what?"

"We don't have the time to chit-chat about this!" Ward almost exploded. He pushed away from May, ran his hand through his hair, struggling to pull himself back together. Then he spoke in a much calmer, almost robotic voice. "You need to find a way to get her out of here, without..." he paused. Something choked him and he finished in a barely audible whisper, "without causing her more harm." He hid his face in his hands and shook his head, muttering something. Something that May couldn't quite understand but what sounded disturbingly like, "It's not gonna work."

May didn't say anything. She knew that she would stand guard right here and she would fight for the girl inside that room with every fiber of her being, if it came to that. But she needed Ward to tell her more, to give her the details of this danger Skye was in. Saying it was Clairvoyant and acting like there was no way out of it, wasn't satisfactory.

She heard footsteps echoing in the hospital corridor and she hoped it was Coulson. Even though she would never admit it openly, she needed his backup to deal with this mysterious danger, as well as with freaked out Ward. How did he learn about the Clairvoyant's plans for Skye anyway?

"What's going on?" Coulson demanded.

"Ward thinks we need to get Skye out of here." May replied first and when she saw Ward making no attempt to elaborate, she summarized his ... requests. Coulson glared at Ward for a while and finally pulled out his phone.

"I'll get Garrett to help us..."

Ward's reaction was so fast it startled even Melinda May. He grabbed Coulson's wrist, almost knocking the phone out of his hand, his face white like a mask, eyes crazy. "No." He uttered. "No one may know. No one except us."

"I need to get the med pod into the plane, Ward," Coulson replied calmly, not moving his hand. "I won't risk taking her without any kind of medical care."

Ward let go of Coulson's wrist and took a step back.

"Not Garrett," he mouthed.

Coulson nodded. "Who then?" he asked in all seriousness. "Sitwell?" Ward shook his head "Hand?"

"Hand, yeah, Hand is clear."

Coulson walked away, talking on the phone. Ward looked like he fought an urge to follow him, to listen in on the conversation, but he stayed. He kept pacing back and forth, like a caged puma. May wanted to know what was going on but she resorted to watching him, instead of outright asking.

She could gauge his mindset from the way he acted, she knew him well enough. Intimate relationship with the man had its benefits. Normally, he was difficult to read, closed off, keeping his distance. When he was physically naked, though, part of his soul would reveal itself too. It was only natural.

Agent Grant Ward appeared tough for any outside observer. A strong, self confident manly man. Coulson saw a potential leader in Ward, someone who would make hard calls, wouldn't hesitate under pressure. Partially May agreed with that assessment. With clear enough general goal he was that man. She saw beyond that, though. She saw that little things were a problem.

At first she'd taken over their intimate encounters, taken the lead, because that was what she had needed and Ward let her without protest. Then, one day, she had asked him if there was something he wanted to do and he was so completely flustered it would have been cute, if it hadn't been disturbing. She had felt, then, as if she hadn't been in bed with a real person, but with a dummy.

She hadn't really wondered why he was like that. Each of them had their demons, she wouldn't appreciate if he tried to fix hers. Now, though, watching him fall apart in front of her eyes, looking at Jemma Simmons following his every move with her eyes, rooted to the spot and worried, perhaps more than she worried for Skye, May wondered.

What did Garrett have to do with all this? Why such a violent reaction? May read Ward's file, she knew that Garrett recruited him straight out of the Academy. John Garrett had a keen eye for promising young cadets. From what she heard, he grabbed the grandson of one of the Howling Commandos recently. No wonder he had wanted Ward all those years ago. May had never liked Garrett very much. She'd respected the man, his efficiency was admirable, but understanding Coulson's affection for Garrett, their friendship, was something else altogether. 'He used to be different', Coulson would say. 'Before Serbia'. And then, May's life became divided too. Before Bahrain and after Bahrain. Then, part of her understood. Another part of her still didn't like Garrett's strange sense of humor, his vague air of superiority and condescending, misogynistic comments.

Ward was nothing like his former SO. He truly admired May's skills, and never made any stupid "despite you being a woman" comments. He had actually taken that gender equality thing to the extreme when he'd explained to her why he had taken that punch for her, way back when. His "don't flatter yourself" had stung a little, although Melinda knew it shouldn't have; they were on a par. Also, his fondness for the younger members of the team was genuine, even if he appeared somewhat exasperated by their antics. He took his role as their protector very seriously. He was really terrified for Skye right now. It was all far removed from anything Melinda May knew about John Garrett. John Garrett was simply unable to care for another human being.

May wondered how someone like Ward could be under command of John Garrett for so long. It was close to five years now, wasn't it? It must have been how he was so good at following orders, following another person's lead, but it wasn't natural to him. Ward must have been relieved when the reassign order came and he had the opportunity to change the scenery.

He must have guessed something from Garrett's behavior now, that sent him into a tailspin.

Coulson finished talking and Ward turned to him, alert, expectant.

"We'll have the pod at the airport within an hour," the boss smiled lightly but it was no good for Ward.

"That's too long." He turned to stare at Skye through the glass.

"It's not." Coulson lay a hand on Ward's arm and Ward flinched, made an attempt to wriggle out from his grasp. Coulson ignored the reaction; squeezed him harder, if anything, grounded him. "Doctors need to prepare her anyway and we need to transport her from here to the airport. An hour is just fine."

t.b.c.