This chapter didn't turn out quite as I had actually planned, but when I sat down to write I just couldn't stop. So voila, have a chapter mostly from Coulson's thoughts.

Hope it is okay!

I don't own Marvel or AOS or any of the characters etc.


Part 8

The team were all back on the BUS together. They had left the HYDRA facility without any other soldiers turning up, but also without taking down Garrett. They'd been unable to find him amid the chaos, which they were all uneasy about, but they had needed to get Skye to safety, and May to medical attention fast. As soon as they had gotten on board, Tripp had taken command of the plane and flown them away from the location. They were currently cruising at around 35,000ft, and Tripp had switched the controls to autopilot.

Skye, Coulson and Tripp were all sat in the lounge area. Skye was finally telling the other two about what had happened in the chamber, between May and Ward. She explained about how Ward had been rambling about her "changing the world" and that S.H.I.E.L.D had "only ever endangered her life", when he had left suddenly, only to return with May at gunpoint. She told them how May had talked to him, tried to get through to him about HYDRA and how Garrett had manipulated him so much; how she had somehow convinced him to put down his guns and knife, and to fight her by hand (which, in all honesty had probably saved them both from being killed immediately). Then she went on to explain in her own words how the two had fought, choking back tears as she spoke.

Tripp sat next to Skye on the sofa, and gently stroked her back in comfort. He mostly listened, asking her the occasional question.

"I've…I've never seen anything like it" she murmured. "That level of combat – they were both like…machines." She shivered slightly, and let out a choked sob. "But when Ward grabbed the gun off the floor…God I thought for sure he was going to kill her."

Coulson, who was sat opposite the two of them, closed his eyes in pain at those last words. He didn't want to think of what could have happened, of how the outcome could easily have been the other way round had Ward not taken May's bait, and put down his gun before they fought. He could have shot her there and then, but she had managed, as usual, to alter the situation to something else, something she could deal with; she had taken control of what was happening. She knew she could fight, that was for sure. But so could Ward. May must have known the risk it was taking him on head-to-head, but she'd done it anyway, to protect Skye from HYDRA.

She had been so close to being killed.

Thoughts were swirling around Coulson's head.

He didn't know what he would have done, if, when he and Tripp had arrived at the chamber, instead of Ward being on the ground, it had been May. If they had entered and seen her broken body lying on the floor, with blood pooling around her, her eyes glassy and staring, dead.

He shook his head to clear the images haunting his mind.

It had been bad enough seeing how May and Skye had walked out of the chamber into the corridor to meet them. He knew immediately May was injured. Upon first sight, her face had been covered in blood, the majority of which was from a gash on her right cheek, and she had bruising appearing along her jawline. There had been a lump across her forehead, as though she'd taken one hell of a whack to it, and she'd had cuts and slices across her arms. She'd limped towards them too, and he could see a lot of blood sticking her trousers to her leg. But if that had been all, he wouldn't have worried as much. He'd seen her after combat many times, and he knew she was covered in scars from various battle injuries. No, what made his blood go cold, was how pale her face was through the blood. How clammy her skin felt as he had taken her arm to help steady her when she'd swayed in front of them. How Skye had kept throwing anxious glances at her, and asking her if she was okay. How May hadn't really said a word to anyone. How her eyes had almost looked right through them all. She'd staggered part way to the BUS, and then Tripp had carried her the rest of the way. She hadn't resisted, and he knew for a fact she hated being picked up.

Fitzsimmons had met them at the cargo hold, and quickly took May to the medical bay to help with her wounds. Both he and Skye had stayed to help as they had worked to stabilise her; providing her with fluids, removing the bullet from her leg, and giving her an emergency transfusion of blood to replace what she had lost. He'd held her hand as she faded in and out of consciousness, murmured softly to her that she would be okay, that she had to stay awake, that it was all over.

Once her stats had risen back to what Simmons had termed "an acceptable level given the circumstances", Fitz had thanked them both for their help, but requested they leave them to it, so that they could focus on helping her recover more.

That had been almost three hours ago.

He needed to see her, to know how she was. He needed to make sure she was still with him.

Suddenly Fitz came around the corner and entered the room. Skye stopped talking, and the three of them stood to look at him, waiting with baited breath for whatever news he had come to tell them of.

Fitz looked at them all, and started to speak.