Phil finds Anna sitting at Trip's bedside. They share a small smile when he enters. "How is he?" Phil asks.
"If I can decipher Jemma's nervous medical speak , stable," she answers. "He'll be here for a few days, and restricted for a couple weeks after that, at least. How are you?"
He drags a chair over next to hers. "Found the city we're looking for. We'll be taking off again in a few hours. Will you be okay here?"
She nods her head in Trip's direction. "Someone needs to sit here with him while you all go excavating or whatever."
"Jemma's staying behind," Phil says.
Anna leans in her chair to peer through windows across the hall. "She seems pretty tied up with whoever that is over there."
Phil follows her line of vision to see Jemma inspecting monitors above Bakshi's bed. "That would be a HYDRA agent we've had in the basement who tried to kill himself by activating a cyanide tablet embedded in his cheekbone." When he turns back to Anna, she has a slightly terrified look on her face. "What?"
"We're going to call that an overshare."
"Sorry," he apologizes.
Her left hand reaches over to catch his tie between her fingers, and his chest swells with pride. "Noticed this, by the way."
Phil smiles softly. "We stopped by Oahu. Trip was kind enough to pick up my dry cleaning."
She snorts. "Our one attempt at a vacation."
Phil feels his forehead crinkle in confusion. "I seem to remember other attempts at vacations."
"And I seem to remember telling you I'd never use the v-word until we made it completely through the trip without some agent showing up at the hotel door because you'd turned your cell phone off and no one but you could solve the next big crisis." A rush of guilt flushes his face, but she soothes his nerves a little by running her fingers down the tie. "Surprised they kept it around for four years."
"I'm an excellent tipper."
Her smile warms his heart, and he reaches over to brush a loose curl out of her face. "You don't have to be here."
"No shit," she responds before sighing. "Mack came to have a talk with me while you were gone."
"About what?" Phil questions, unsure of what Mack and Anna would have in common enough to discuss.
"You scared the bejeezus out of him when you went into the machine. Compared you to The Excorcist."
"That's ridiculous," Phil replies, trying to cover up his nerves about her finding out details of what happened. "My head never spun around, and there was no pea green soup vomit."
"Phil," she sighs. "This lifestyle of aliens and replaced memories, it's not normal to all of us."
"It's not normal to me, either," he reassures her. "He tell you about that to make sure you knew what you were getting into?"
Anna nods. "Told him I already had a pretty good idea. Sharing a bed with you during a night terror can be pretty terrifying, and I've already buried you once, after all." She shrugs one shoulder and looks at her shoes. "He thinks me being with you isn't worth the sacrifice. That I'm wasting a shot at a normal life by hanging out with you freaks."
"And what do you think?" Phil asks softly, fear pooling in his stomach at what she might say.
She looks up and studies his face a moment before answering. "I think I stopped being normal long before you ever came around, and I have no hope of going back."
"You should still be playing in a symphony."
Her mouth opens to respond, but she rolls her lips together instead. "We're not having this conversation right now."
"We need to have—"
"I know, I just can't right now."
"Why?" he questions.
"Because I don't know what I want and therefore can't argue my point." She pauses to run her fingers through her hair. "I miss it," she admits quietly. "But I feel like I have some mark against me and I need to know I can prove that I'm healthy and whole before I go to another audition."
"I'm sorry," he apologizes again. He could apologize for eternity, but it would never feel like enough. "Don't give up on your career, please."
Her smile is a bitter one. "That's incredibly kind of you to say considering I beg you to leave your job at least twice a week."
"Anna—"
"We'll talk when you get back," she says in her tone that means she's absolutely done with things. "You've got a mission." She stares at him for a second, her eyes squinting, and he hates that she knows him so well. "What aren't you telling me?"
Phil knows trying to hide the truth from her will only land him in a heaping mess of trouble, so he cranes his neck to make sure no one is nearby before answering her question. "The man who shot Trip is Skye's father."
"What?" Anna gasps.
"We ran into him—"
She waves off his words. "Skye told me about finding his… wreckage."
"She doesn't know he's the one who did this, and I'd like to keep that quiet." He watches her debate whether or not she should push the topic before she barely nods. "I think he'll find us when we get to this city, and there'll be some kind of show down."
"And what are you going to do about that?"
He feels his chest squeeze so tightly he can barely breathe. Losing Skye is not an option; he'll fight like hell to keep her with him. "Whatever's necessary."
Anna gives him a half-smile as she brushes her knuckles against his cheek. "You're cute when you're gearing up for a paternal rights fight."
