A/N: Fair warning - this little snippet is sad. Also, in it Skye and Hunter are married. Because, in my headcanon, that happens eventually, and the emotional intimacy of this piece seemed like an appropriate time for it.


Skye knew something had gone terribly wrong with the mission as soon as her husband stepped off the quinjet.

The official report from May was that the op, though successful, had been dicey for a few minutes, but that alone couldn't account for the heaviness of Hunter's steps, his slumped shoulders, or the haunted look in his eyes.

He stumbled over to Skye and nearly crushed her in an embrace, burying his face in her hair and inhaling deeply as he held on to her tight.

Skye was really alarmed, now. Hunter usually never let this level of dependency on her show, unless it was just the two of them. "What happened?" she asked quietly, trying to stay calm. He pulled back, and she ran her fingers across his sweat- and blood-streaked face, hoping her touch would be soothing to him.

He leaned into her hand and closed his eyes, then opened them to look into hers. "Later," he managed, as May gestured for him to follow her into Coulson's office for debriefing.


Skye waited in their room until he got back from the debrief. He came in with the same haunted look, and she helped him wash off the grime and get changed into pajama pants and a clean T-shirt before he sat down heavily on the edge of the bed and motioned for her to join him.

She sat down beside him.

"I shot a civilian today, a woman," he said hollowly, staring at his hands. "The fight wasn't supposed to spill into the street, but it did. It was my fault - I reacted too quickly, before I was sure what I was shooting at."

Skye reflexively covered her mouth with one hand, then, realizing, took the hand away and put it on his knee instead. He covered it with his own.

"What happened?" She was glad that her voice stayed calm, soothing.

Hunter shook his head. "I don't know. We had to get out of there quickly. EMS was arriving on site as we were leaving, but..." He trailed off, lifting his eyes to meet hers.

Skye nodded, pressing her lips together. He was a good shot.

She cupped his cheek with her free hand, stroking with her thumb, and again he leaned into her touch.

"What did Coulson say?" she asked quietly.

"Of course he was upset. He didn't say much. Said I seemed to be doing well enough holding myself accountable for it."

Skye nodded, blinking back tears. Of course Hunter would. That was part of why she loved him.

She knew all the right answers - that it wasn't his fault; that sometimes, in a firefight, things just happen too fast; that sometimes collateral damage is unavoidable. But he knew all those answers, too, and they weren't what he needed.

"Come here," she said quietly, her voice thickening with unshed tears. She crawled up onto the bed and leaned back on the pillows, and Hunter curled up against her, wrapping his arms around her tightly and laying his head on her shoulder.

Skye carded her fingers through his short hair with one hand as she felt his hot tears began to dampen her T-shirt. He always cried silently; she sometimes wondered what hard lesson along the way had taught him to be so quiet with his pain. But he couldn't hold it in; he had to get it out. Tomorrow, he'd be able to move on.

The tears kept coming until he fell asleep, his head growing heavy on her, his breathing becoming slow and even. Skye stroked his face gently, bittersweetly glad that she could be a source of comfort for him.

She was his safe place.

No matter how crazy the world outside got, no matter how much emotional damage they each sustained, they would be that for each other.