Epilogue:
A week later, a fully recovered Skye walked up the steps of an intimidating stone-faced building a few steps behind Agent May.
"Are you sure about this, May?" She questioned, staring up at the strange gargoyles that perched above the large door frame. "She probably doesn't even remember me. I don't think I'd even recognize her."
May smirked and reached back to pull the girl forward. She pressed the bell next to the double door and waited for it to open, then gave her a gentle shove inside,
A young man in light blue scrubs escorted them down a long hallway and through a swinging door that led to a large auditorium type room.
Skye took several deep breaths to calm her self as her eyes darted from one area to another. Two women sat in large arm chairs near a window. Each clicked knitting needles in tandem, creating what looked to be the longest scarves she'd ever seen. Another small group sat at a table playing what looked like Old Maid. Still another group worked on a large puzzle at another table. Throughout the large room groups of people were involved in simple activities while other individuals worked independently.
Skye looked from face to face; trying to determine which one was Lyla Broschette.
The young man who had led them to the room was talking quietly to May. She was nodding and looking in the same direction as he. Skye followed that line of vision to a lone woman involved in no activity, simply staring out the farthest window. Her face held no expression.
Skye tried to imagine the teenager she had know for such a short amount of time becoming this woman. She wanted to run. As a child she didn't understand why Lyla acted the way she had, as an adult she understood all too well. Her brush with the terror that was Mr. Broschette was nothing compared to what his daughter had endured and Skye felt guilty for thinking the girl heartless.
May had explained what Lyla did, how she had more than likely saved her from the man's violent sexual abuse. Skye had vehemently denied that she had been molested, saying nothing had happened, but she and May had spoken for hours and eventually she had come to terms with what she had survived. It was then the older agent told her the story of how Lyla had taken a bat and began smashing everything she could that night. She'd used it to smash her father's hand as he reached for her and then to knock him senseless. She'd held her mother back as well, when the woman tried to stop little Skye from escaping that night. She'd spent years in a mental facility because of it and now…well now…
"Skye…" May tapped her arm and brought her out of her reverie. She looked at her mentor and followed as she made her way across the room toward the woman at the window.
She noticed a second woman, speaking to the woman fixed on the outside view, apparently a nurse or perhaps a doctor. She held a clip board and smiled gently at the woman, resting a hand on her shoulder before squatting down next to her and pointing at something outside. They both smiled.
May and Skye stopped before them. The woman squatting looked over her shoulder at them and rose slowly. Skye took a deep breath and stepped forward.
"Hi," she began, addressing the woman in the chair. "You probably don't remember me…" She spoke quickly, nervousness in her voice.
The other woman, who was now standing, rested a hand on Skye's shoulder. "Honey, she doesn't talk. She hasn't for a very long time."
Skye blinked a few times, trying to quell the tears not far from escaping. "I…I'm sorry…I didn't mean to…I…"
May rested her hand on Skye's giving her much needed support. The young orderly broke the silence.
"Dr. Broschette, these women asked to speak with you. I didn't think you'd mind."
The woman smiled, "of course not, Sylas. Can you sit with Helen for a bit then?" He nodded as she turned to May and Skye whose mouth had dropped open.
"Close your mouth, Skye…remember your manners." May whispered in a small tease then turned to smile at the doctor.
"You?" Skye managed to blurt out as her eyebrows disappeared into her bangs.
"Well, I am Dr. Broschette; if that's the you you're looking for here?" She smiled again.
"You're okay." She exclaimed as she wrapped the woman in a bear hug.
The doctor reacted with a bit of shock looking over Skye's shoulder to May who simply shrugged and smiled. 'A patient?' the doctor mouthed pointing at the girl's back.
May shook her head and raised a finger indicating she should wait a minute, and then pulled Skye back. "Perhaps we should step back a bit. Is there somewhere we can talk?"
Dr. Broschette nodded and led them to her office. They sat and they spoke. Lyla remembered the scared skinny little kid that spent two terrifying weeks in what was supposed to be a home. She apologized for not doing something before her monster father tried to hurt her. Skye protested telling her over and over that she was a kid too and that she saved her, that she saved them both. The doctor told her she had made a long recovery and then with the help of some good people she decided to become a doctor herself and return the favor. She was in fact a psychologist and worked with traumatized patients, like Helen. Skye told her she'd made it as well and her life was going well, leaving out all the secret agent blah-blah. She thanked her again and again for saving her life.
They parted company burying that part of their past and all of the nightmares for good.
Skye skipped down the steps of the institute meeting May at the SUV parked at the curb.
"You left."
"You were fine, didn't need me anymore."
Skye smiled then wrinkled her nose and leaned a bit toward her S.O. "Nah, I still need ya." She teased.
May rolled her eyes and opened the car door. "Let's go. We've got one more stop." She remarked dryly as Skye slipped into the passenger seat.
"Where to?" She looked up at May.
"Gotta see a nun about a paddle," she quipped as she shut the door and turned to walk around the vehicle.
Skye's head spun to the right watching her go, and then back to the left as May rounded the rear of the SUV. "May! No! You…you wouldn't…you're kidding, right…"
May smiled broadly and laughed out loud as she opened the driver's door and slipped inside. She pulled away from the curb ignoring the protests and arm waving of the girl in the passenger seat.
Maybe she'd notice – in a few miles – they were headed home.
