NOTES: This story will go on hiatus while the show is on hiatus. Need to devote some writing time to other stories while the show is on a break (and probably fight the urge to write Peggy stuff with the start of Agent Carter). Thank you so much for reading. Hope you come back to the story in March.


When Phil wakes, everything hurts. He stays still not to absorb the details of the sounds around him, but because he's afraid of what fresh hell movement will cause. The steady beeping from above his head is pretty clear sign he's in some hospital bed, and when he gathers the courage to open his eyes, his theory is proven correct.

To his left, Anna is curled up in a chair. Her clothes don't match, she's not wearing any makeup, and her hair is falling out of its ponytail. The sight is simultaneously wonderful and painful, and he adds this date to the list of times he's hurt with his job.

She must sense he's awake, because she stirs. He does his best to smile at her, but all it does is break open the cut on his lip. She swears under breath, grabs a tissue, and puts some pressure on his lip to help it stop bleeding. "Hey," she says softly. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he answers. "Do you know what happened?" Her eyes duck away for a moment, and his stomach tightens. Something bad happened, but the last thing he can remember was a possessed Mack coming at him outside the temple entrance.

"Some," Anna answers. "They've told me a little bit, but I'm supposed to get May when you wake up."

She stands to leave, but he manages to grab her wrist before she gets away. "Who?" he asks. "Who did we lose?"

"Phil, I don't know details. May can—"

"Who?" he demands again. He hates forcing her to break the news to him, but he can't stand being awake a second more and not knowing which of them didn't make it back.

"Trip," she says quietly. "He's gone."

Phil closes his eyes at the news and says a silent farewell in his mind. Of course it will be detrimental to them to lose such an able and talented agent like Trip, but they've also lost a dear friend. One who'd had Phil's back no matter what.

Just as the pain starts needling into his heart, Anna sits down gingerly on the edge of his bed. His stomach drops at the thought of losing someone else, because if she's being this gentle with the news, then…

"Honey, they can't find Skye."

He wishes the earth would come up and swallow him. No pain has matched this, not even Loki's wound. His girl is gone.

Anna's mutters something, kisses him gently on the forehead, and leaves. A moment later, May is standing by his bedside, but his mind is still lost and trying to make sense of things. "Skye?" he asks, his voice hoarse.

"We're tracking her. At least, we think it's her," May answers.

"What do you mean?" Phil asks as she tries to prop himself up a little in his bed. He immediately regrets the decision.

"You have a concussion, two broken ribs, multiple lacerations, and a collapsed lung."

"Had worse," he tries to joke. It's ineffective . "Why do you think it's Skye?"

"It's either her or Raina," May says. "We found Trip's clothing in the temple, so we know those remains were his. But we didn't find anything of Raina or Skye. There was an earthquake with its epicenter under San Juan when all of this went down. There were no signs that an earthquake was expected, so we think it has something to do with the temple."

"How bad was it?" Phil asks.

"Bad," Melinda answers. "And HYDRA leaked it to the news that S.H.I.E.L.D. was involved, so our reputation has taken an even greater hit."

"Just what we need," Phil mutters.

"Stark has been running interference for us and helping with relief and rebuilding efforts."

"You know he's going to call in that favor eventually," Phil tells her, and she nods. "So how are you tracking Skye?"

"Tectonic activity," she replies. "Like I said, the earthquake was unexplained and random. Fitz has been keeping an eye on that kind of unexpected quakes, and he's found a trail of smaller incidents over the last few days. They lead away from Puerto Rico and toward Asia."

"Her father take her?"

May shrugs. "Can't find him either."

Phil sighs as the information settles into his mind. "Are you trying to tell me that Skye can cause earthquakes now?"

"Either she or Raina; that's Fitz's best theory."

It's a terrifying possibility, this idea that he's led Skye into becoming a gifted. But if means they can keep track of where she is…

"I probably should've asked this sooner," Phil says, "but where the hell are we?"

"Bobbi, Hunter, and me—well, technically Fitz and Simmons, too—were able to pull all of you out. You and Mack needed immediate medical attention, and since word had already been released that we were involved, our options were limited. Simmons has some loyal friends here, so we snuck you two in."

"None of you were hurt?" Phil asks.

"We didn't require immediate care," is all May says in return.

"You still didn't mention where 'here' is."

"Simmons's friends are with the CDC, so—"

"We're in a hospital in Atlanta?" Phil asks, his stomach dropping. "And Anna's here?"

"Yes," May answers, her tone making it clear she hasn't put together whatever Phil's talking about. "Jemma called her from the plane. Barton and Natasha brought her down here. Why? We thought you'd be happy to wake up and see her."

"The last time Anna was in a hospital in Atlanta, her three-day-old son died." May doesn't respond, just rolls her lips. Phil sighs as best as he can and tries once more to figure out the next step. "We're going to have to lay low for awhile if the press is after us again. We're sure Trip's really gone?"
May nods. "I already called his family and arranged for services."

"That should've been my job."

"You were a little busy with a coma," she responds.

"Funny," he mutters. "In an hour, I want a full report on everything I missed, the status on our bases, and an update on possible locations for Skye and Raina."

May turns and leaves to follow orders. When she's out the door, Anna peeks her head in and Phil calls her over. He steels himself for words he doesn't want to say, but it needs done.

"Mack's lurking in the hallway to apologize to you," she says as she walks in. "Something about karma for calling you possessed?"

"I'll handle that in a second," he tells her as she settles back into her chair. "I'm sorry," he apologizes.

Anna shrugs. "Oddly, I've gotten pretty used to you getting hurt and worrying myself sick about it."

"I was apologizing for making you come back here."

She freezes, a human knot of tension that drives of wedge of guilt into Phil's gut. "I had to come make sure you were okay for myself," she says softly. "I didn't need your redhead showing up again to tell me you were gone."

"Even though it meant coming here?" he asks. She looks out the window instead of giving him an answer, and he shakes his head. "Anna, I can't do this to you anymore."

"Do what, exactly?"

"This," he says with half-hearted wave of his hand. "You're not working because someone broke your hand to get to me. You've already had to bury me once. You have no friends of your own because my life is full of secrets and you have live in it. And now I've dragged you to the place you swore you'd never come back to."

"Phil—"

"You can do better than me, easily," Phil tells her. "And you should. You don't deserve this kind of life. And you shouldn't have to live it. I just—"

"You're done talking now," Anna tells him. He opens his mouth to argue his point some more, but her sharp look makes him clamp his jaw shut. "You're an idiot, you know that?"

"Most of the time, yes."

The joke almost makes her crack a smile, but not quite. "You think I keep coming back to you because I don't think I can do better, but the real reason is because I can't live without you. Had to do that for a little bit, and life was awful."

"I seem to recall that you tried to break up with me in New York when you were living in Stark's tower," Phil points out.

"And I seem to recall that you were acting like a dick, so…" She pauses to pick at her nails. "The baby died twelve years ago."

"Doesn't mean it still doesn't hurt. You can't tell me that."

"Fair enough," she admits.

"You should be playing in a symphony."

"Phil—"

"You should."

She sighs and shakes her head. "Phil, I don't even know if I want to play in a symphony anymore. I honestly can't name one thing I want anymore, except you."

"I can't offer you a normal life."

At that, she laughs. "You remember that my life has never been normal, right? I lost my mom before I was in first grade, became a widow in my twenties just a little bit after burying my newborn. And that didn't include the phase of my life where, among other things, I tried to get guys to date me in college without them finding out that my father was on track to become Chief of Staff for the Army."

"You deserve to have a quiet, regular life."

"And I wouldn't know what that'd look like even if it jumped up and bit me in the ass." She reaches out and gingerly takes his fingers in hers. He squeezes back to let her know that's one part of him that doesn't hurt. "So here's what's going to happen: you're going quit trying to dump me, you're going to quit busting up your face, you're going to get better, and you're going to find our girl."