So you know how in Chapter 1 I said I'd never be one of those writers, who forget and neglect their fanfics? Guess what. That's what I became.
But I'm back! So continue to cast your mind back to AOS back in season 1, because we all know a lot has occurred since then! This fic is still set in season 1, but I will add in a few aspects of later seasons to speed up the timeline, hopefully we'll be back in current time(it) within a few chapters!
But for now, enjoy a VERY VERY long awaited CHAPTER FOUR!
Everyone has a mask. Some peoples ones are held together with a clenched jaw, hidden away in a cockpit, contained until they reach their safe haven- a lab. Coulson wondered briefly what his mask was.
"You hide yours with authority."
It stung for the little voice in his head to plainly state it, but he still knew he couldn't deny it. Coulson almost smirked at the thought, he had considered himself the senior agent, the one that in a sticky situation heads would turn to him for guidance and knowledge yet he was being insulted by a voice in his head. Mentally smacking the back of his head to keep himself focused he searched on the S.H.I.E.L.D database Scott Dawson, hoping to find some clue as to who the man was.
He didn't like what he saw, the man was a mess. He had been in an abusive home himself growing up, until his mother went missing. He was fourteen and a suspected reason as to why Belinda Dawson had never been seen again. The man was part of a racial extremist group well known to the authorities for attacks on buildings that housed opposing companies or groups. Dawson had been in rehab from the age of twenty for three years for drugs and alcohol. But Coulson had a feeling that it had carried on beyond the clinic. However he managed to be clear to be anyone's legal guardian was beyond him.
Anger boiled under his skin until he could read no more Coulson flicked the off switch. Leaning back on his chair he knew one thing, he couldn't let Skye go back to him.
S.H.I.E.L.D
Simmons sat, bored as ever in the lab, waiting for any form of distraction to come her way. She smiled when it came as the short figure of Fitz entered, his face though didn't share any enjoyment. He sat in the opposite computer chair, swivelling around to face Simmons. They both knew what each other was thinking, yet were both unable to voice it.
"Well," She began, hoping Fitz would, as usual say exactly what he was thinking.
"This whole Skye thing is utterly ridiculous don't you think?" He questioned.
Simmons all but rolled her eyes, "It isn't ridiculous, it's frightening."
There was a pause, confused he asked, "Frightening?"
"Well to go to all that trouble just to keep away from someone, the situation would have been dire," She reasoned, her voice came out hushed, like she was uttering a secret.
Their eyes met, Fitz stepping forward, "Simmons, what do you know? There's something you're not telling me."
Jemma looked at her hands, weighing up her own moral thinking for withholding information, before finally deciding on a response that would not annoy Fitz, "I really think you should ask Skye yourself, it's kind of personal."
"But we have two bloody days before something has to happen. Isn't the simple solution to adopt Skye?" Fitz argued, figuring that way the hacker could stay with them.
Jemma beamed, "That's a great idea Fitz! That way she could stay with us forever!" She briefly squeezed Leo's shoulder, "We should go see Coulson now."
S.H.I.E.L.D
"Can't happen. Well not within the timeframe needed. Adoption papers take weeks to be cleared," Coulson looked across the room to May, who was sitting looking away from them out the window quietly, thinking back to a time long ago, in a different life, one that is only a memory now.
"But sir, she's a hacker for god's sake, can't Skye speed the process up?" Fitz was determined to consider this from all angles.
"How long can it take anyway? If Skye agrees shouldn't it be easy?" Simmons added.
The director smiled slightly, they really cared for the young women. "There is a long interview process and a lot of paper work, overall it really won't happen in two days."
Fitzsimmons stood dejectedly in front of Coulson, weighing up options, their minds clearly working at a fast rate. Unable to come up with anything, Simmons tapped Fitz's hand and they both left the office, leaving May and Coulson alone.
Fiddling briefly with his pens, the Director glanced over to May, who hadn't moved the entire time she'd been in the office. "Are you seriously still annoyed at her for this Melinda?"
She didn't look his way, so her facials were impossible to read but her voice rang clear, blunt but clear, "We're a team, a team don't have secrets."
"You really expect me to believe that you wholeheartedly believe that?" Coulson shot back.
May turned, glaring slightly at him, "That doesn't count and you know it."
The little smirk, the one that only reaches Phil Coulson's face when he knows he's got the upper hand, was evident on the Director, "I think everyone is entitled to a few secrets, and Skye clearly had her own for a good reason."
A raised eyebrow was his only response.
"We just need to find out this reason, Scott Dawson, we need to find him."
S.H.I.E.L.D
The room was dank. It was damp yet the air was dry at the same time. A small hand ran along the bare wall, find dents in the shape of heads, fists, elbows and knees, finally falling on the large one, roughly the size of a 14 year old girl. Picking slightly at the cracks that radiated from the dent a small tremor occurred and the crack split. The action was followed with widened brown eyes until the crack hit a shelf, where a single plate wobbled, before falling to the ground, smashing into many pieces.
The effect was instantaneous. Thick, heavy steps went up the stairs, before a door was slammed open.
"What the fuck have you done you idiot?!" The man screeched at her.
Tears filled eyes, a voice shook but still replied, "It was an accident I swear, I'm sorry! It, it won't happen again!"
"You bloody well bet it won't, come here!" She tried to dodge his grab, but was unsuccessful. He gripped her tightly, knowing her aptitude for running, dragging her closer to him, more within reach of his right hand.
She looked up at his face, but did not see the expected thick brow ridge, large crooked nose, or small, pointy, dark eyes, instead a very familiar face.
Director Phil Coulson.
The scream that lurched in Skye's throat did not break in her dreams, rather echoing around her dark bunk room on the bus. She was panting, sticky and, not that she wanted to admit it, terrified. Pushing the covers off her and the hair from her face she leapt out of her bed. There was a noise outside her door, which was then opened. Coulson. One of the main people who cared the most, yet now, he was down the bottom of the list of who Skye wanted to be around.
"Are you ok? I heard some thumping," He asked, genuinely worried.
Skye realised she must have been banging the wall as she writhed in her sleep, and even though she knew Coulson meant her no ill will she couldn't look at him, everything was far too fresh. "I-I, uh," Unable to get her words out Skye stood, already wearing a large hoodie and some sweat pants, she focused on the still open door. "I have to go," She murmured, moving past Coulson, who did the worst thing he could do.
Grab her arm.
Suddenly Skye was back in her dream with the same demons she had been running from latched onto her, trying to drag her down. Her training with Ward kicked in by reflex, and she quickly placed a closed fist into Coulson's sternum, winding him in the process. Detaching herself from her grasp she didn't even glance back at him before bolting out of the room, not even bothering to shut the door. She deftly made it down the spiral stairs and into the landing bay, to her only place of solace. Her van. The only place she had genuinely considered a home. The doors were locked but there was a small panel towards the back, sliding it to the right she taped in a small code and there was a click.
Opening the door, which was swiftly shut again, Skye clambered to the back of the highly technologically advanced vehicle, retrieving a torn and patched up teddy bear. It is the only thing that has been with her for as long as she could remember. Curling up against the wall, toy animal placed firmly against her chest, eyes half open, yet not seeing anything around her, Skye gently rocked back and forth, wanting to wake up from the nightmare that had become her life.
A small digital clock beamed the time across to her, 3:26am, she had roughly 34 hours until Child Services would be back, most likely with Dawson in toe. There had to be something she could do, but the most logical way included needing petrol in the van and the landing bay door to be opened, which had be tightly shut to prevent anyone leaving the Bus. It wouldn't be that difficult to get the door open, but Skye knew that she would be hurting everyone on board if she just left without saying anything. In order to leave she would have to get the entire Bus on board, one that would take a lot of sweet talking and promises she would probably not keep.
As Skye fell asleep her mind continued to work on solutions that would get her out of Dawson's reach forever.
So. There we are team Chapter 4!
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