A/N: Hi, readers. A few days after I posted the previous chapter of this story, I received the news that one of my students, a young woman with multiple disabilities and high medical needs, passed away after almost eight months in and out of the hospital. I had been with her for the majority of those eight months and was truly a part of her family. I loved her like a sister and her passing has been heartbreaking and unbelievable. Obviously I have been in no shape for writing, but that's slowly coming back. Thank you for being patient with me.
Thanks to everyone who reads/reviews/follows/favorites. It makes me so happy to get feedback and to know that people are pleased with what I write.
Enjoy!
Skye groaned and put a hand to her head. It was pounding like she'd allowed a series of bass drummers to take up residence in her skull. She could faintly hear someone's voice, but her head hurt too much to process words.
Then she remembered what had happened. She sat up as quickly as she could, hands moving instantly to her belly.
Under her palms she felt movement, and some relief went through her throbbing aching body.
The voice spoke again. "Skye?"
"Don't… don't come in here!" she got out. "Broke… broke the crystals."
"We know." The voice got louder and closer, and Skye saw it was Coulson. He was standing on the other side of a glass wall. "We got you out of there."
Panic grabbed Skye. "Did you…?""
He held up his hand. "We took all the precautions necessary. Everyone's fine."
Skye sighed with relief.
"How do you feel?"
"Nauseous. And my head is ringing."
Coulson nodded. "Simmons is bringing you some medicine."
Skye winced and sat up the rest of the way, trying to get her heavy, aching body to the garbage can. As Coulson watched her with worried eyes, she made it there and hung her head over it, waiting for the nausea to subside. It swept over her in a sudden wave and she retched, suddenly glad she hadn't had anything to eat before she'd gone down to Mack's office.
Then she felt woozy because she hadn't had anything to eat and her knees wobbled.
"Don't pass out," Simmons ordered as she decompressed the chamber and entered, clad in a white Haz-Mat suit.
Skye turned and grabbed onto the bed, trying to find her center.
"Eat," Simmons ordered, and she passed Skye a large glass. "Well, drink."
"I was promised pastries," Skye muttered into her chest.
The baby wriggled and Skye groaned, feeling even more nauseous. "Give it to me," she sighed. "What the hell is it, anyway?"
Skye raised her head and took the glass. Simmons gave her a smile. "It's a high-protein nutrient-filled supplemental beverage, taking into account as much of your Inhuman biology as we were able to figure out. And prenatal vitamins, since I figured those would be hard on your stomach. Also it tastes like mango," she finished, sounding extremely pleased with herself.
"Mango?"
"Well, you like mango, and Fitz said chocolate was making you nauseous…"
The mere mention of it twisted Skye's stomach. "Stop."
"Okay. Drink that and I'll get your injections ready. I've got some painkillers and an anti-emetic."
From outside the chamber Coulson said, "Whenever you're feeling a little more stable, Skye, we'd like to talk to you about what happened."
"I'm fine, the baby's fine, I made a stupid mistake and I never found the schematics and I'm still wearing Mack's gym shorts." Skye took a short drink from the glass. "Simmons, this is delicious."
"I told you it would be."
"Okay," Coulson said. "We still need to…"
"Run some tests, I know," Skye said. She shook her head and took another swig from the glass.
Simmons stepped up next to Skye. "Little pinch," she said, and before Skye could protest, jabbed her with a needle.
"Ow!" Skye protested.
"You're such a baby," Simmons said. "Now, get up here and sit on the bed because I'm thinking you're going to collapse here in a few minutes."
"Great." Skye rolled her eyes. She did as Simmons asked, though, pushing herself up onto the bed.
Pan shot through her hip and her knee buckled.
"Skye!" Coulson's voice was sharp with worry.
Simmons dropped whatever she was holding and grabbed Skye, supporting her. "Are you all right?"
"What the hell just happened to my hip?" Skye demanded.
"Round ligament pain," Simmons answered.
"What?"
"Your muscles are loosening because of the changes in your body," Simmons explained. "You'll probably experience…"
"Forget I asked," Skye grunted. "Just… help me sit down."
Simmons nodded, taking the glass of protein shake from Skye and setting it on the table next to the bed. Carefully she helped the pregnant young woman into a seated position. Skye pressed her hand to her belly. "I love you, kid, but you're… you're messing with a lot of stuff."
She was feeling woozy again, and Simmons gently slid her onto the bed, straightening out her body. "Get some rest," the Brit suggested.
"You… drugged me again," Skye mumbled, her eyes already closing.
"Just gently," Simmons said. "Let us run some tests, and you rest. I'll put the rest of that protein beverage through the cannula in your foot. Your vitals are off the charts in some very worrying ways, and we need to know more about what happened to you today."
Skye groaned and her eyes slid closed.
"And I'll find you a pillow that should put your ligaments back into position" was the last thing she heard from Simmons.
"I'll be here when you wake up" was the last thing she heard from Coulson, and then she dropped into sleep's waiting arms, her hands still pressed to her belly.
Mack slid a gas mask over his face as he moved towards the still-glowing tent in the center of the compound. The drone surveillance was still showing the cultists all sprawled out on the ground.
The sun had come up while Mack had tried to figure out a plan, and now he barely had one as he moved. He stopped a few hundred feet from the tent and rapidly scanned the area, using all of his senses and all of the capabilities of the drones. They reported back to him quickly, showing no sign of gaseous contaminants or any solid-state biological weaponry.
He sighed and pulled off the gas mask. Time to get into the tent and figure out what had happened during the stare-at-the-moon cake party.
Carefully he moved into the tent.
No one moved, and Mack counted at least fifty people sprawled on the lush green grass.
Movement from the other side of the tent drew his attention and he whirled to the side, drawing his weapon.
Lincoln entered the tent wearing the most ridiculous outfit Mack had ever seen – a billowy bright red caftan and a turban of the same color. Around his neck was a gigantic jeweled pendant, and he wore thick gold bracelets around his wrists and ankles. The complete effect was that of a Bollywood rapper.
"What the hell is that?" Mack demanded, completely forgetting that Lincoln was most likely brainwashed.
"Yeah, I don't know," the blond replied, looking down at himself. "I got here and they believed I was the Second Coming and before I knew it I was in this get-up."
Lincoln looked up. "What are you doing here, by the way?"
"I'm not the only one here," Mack said, not lowering his weapon. "Bobbi and Hunter are here too, except they're over here slumped on the floor. What's in that cake?"
Lincoln shrugged. "Some sort of sedative. Or a roofie. Ketamine? Could it be ketamine?"
Mack holstered his weapon grudgingly. "You have to come home."
"Yeah, I know," Lincoln said. "They won't let me leave."
"Why don't you just shock 'em into submission?"
"Have you seen them? They have guns. Big guns."
"Skye's pregnant," Mack said without further pretense.
Lincoln's mouth dropped open. "What?"
"And her father gave her some serum when we were onboard the SS Real Shield and she went from six weeks to twenty weeks in four days."
Lincoln staggered over to the closest chair, stepping on a cult member's forehead as he did so, and dropped into it. "How is that possible?"
"It's Inhuman."
"That's not an answer!" Lincoln's voice rose to a near-shriek.
"I don't have a better answer," Mack said. "But you need to come home."
"Mack?" Coulson's voice echoed through the coms.
"Go for Mack."
"How's the mission going?"
"I found Lincoln."
"How is he? Brainwashed?"
"No," Mack said. "Thankfully. Just… dressed like he escaped from some weird Indian movie."
"Bring him home," Coulson said. He sounded tense.
"Something wrong?" Mack asked.
"Not necessarily," Coulson said.
"That's not a great answer."
Coulson sighed. "Ask Lincoln if he's ever heard of a fetus going through Terrigenesis."
"What?"
"Just ask," Coulson said.
Mack repeated the question to Lincoln.
If possible, more color faded from the other man's face. "No. Never heard of that. It's got to be horrible."
"Why?" Mack asked.
"Have you seen a transition?"
"No."
"Be grateful. They're terrifying."
Mack put his head in his hands. "Any more information?"
Lincoln thought about this, reaching up to remove his turban. "She's… Skye's… her vital signs will tank. She's going to be severely dehydrated, probably require blood pressure support… the… the… baby's going to start pulling more energy out of her. And her body's going to try and fight it – she's already been through a transition once, and one thing all Inhumans agree on is that nobody survives twice for very good reasons."
"Just once I want good news," Mack grumbled, and then he repeated Lincoln's words to Coulson.
"I'll let Simmons know," Coulson answered tersely.
"Once we get Bobbi and Hunter loaded into the RV we'll head home," Mack said. "Keep an eye on Skye for us."
"We will."
"Let's go, Miss Cleo," Mack said, gesturing to Lincoln. "Help me get those two in the RV, and then you're going to drive it out of here while I go back for the gear."
Lincoln nodded, still looking stunned.
"Hey," Mack said, forcing the other man to look at him.
Lincoln met his eyes.
"We're going to figure this all out. Skye's important to all of us, and we're not going to let anything happen to her or your kid."
"Thank you," Lincoln said quietly.
"Let's move."
They carried Bobbi and Hunter to the RV, one by one, both agents floppy and dead weight.
"God, this is some serious stuff," Mack muttered.
"Yeah. It's… an experience."
"What do you usually do when this happens?"
"Honestly? I take a lot of hilarious selfies."
Mack closed the door to the RV. "Why didn't you try to leave?"
"You already asked that, and I told you. These people are demented and heavily armed. I did try to leave once, but as it turns out, running away from people with guns while wearing a red costume in the middle of rural Saskatchewan isn't the smartest way to live one's life." Lincoln frowned. "And as it turns out, whatever's in that cake significantly lowered my abilities."
Mack shook his head. "Well, we're getting out of here now, so it doesn't matter."
"Think again, hoser." A rough voice barked at them from behind the RV.
Mack turned, hand on his weapon, as four cultists approached, carrying heavy weaponry. All four men were dressed in tactical gear, a strange sight after the robe-wearing passed-out men and women in the tent.
Another man spoke. "You can't take the guru."
The third man agreed. "The guru stays with us."
"Aw, hell," Mack muttered. "Just when I thought this was going to be easy."
"Andrew."
"Melinda."
"It's good to see you again."
"Is it?"
"I wouldn't say it if it wasn't true."
Andrew smiled. "Somehow I doubt that."
"Are you hungry? And before you answer that, I didn't cook. Fitz made pancakes."
"I might be persuaded to eat a few." Andrew picked up his suitcase and followed May into the base. "How's Skye?"
May shook her head slightly. "It just keeps getting worse."
"What's the latest?"
"Twenty weeks pregnant."
Andrew let out a soft whistle.
"But Simmons is pretty sure the serum's effects have leveled off," May went on.
"So that's good." Andrew looked at May. "I'm sensing there's more."
May sighed. "She went down to Mack's office this morning to look for something for Coulson and managed to knock a box of Terrigen crystals onto the floor, and then crush it with something."
Andrew stopped mid-stride. "Oh."
"Yeah. No one's figured out what that means yet, but our theory at the moment is the fetus went through Terrigenesis."
"God."
May nodded.
"Is she awake? I'd like to talk to her."
"She's in quarantine, and she's in and out, but when she's awake she's remarkably lucid and… well, Skye."
"And the father?"
"Mack's in Saskatchewan with Bobbi and Hunter. They're trying to bring him home."
Coulson met them as they were about to head into the med bay.
"Tell me there's news," May ordered.
"There's news. None of it's good."
"I'm seeing a trend," Andrew said, and he shook Coulson's hand.
"Lincoln's not brainwashed, but he gave us some dour news about a fetus going through Terrigenesis."
May didn't say anything, nor did her expression change, but Coulson read her body language well enough to know that she was both scared and angry. At last she spoke. "This never should have happened," she said in a low voice.
Coulson shook his head. "No."
May turned to Andrew. "You can go in there. If she's awake she'll talk to you. If she's not… I left a book on the table. Trashy mystery, but it passes the time. Pancakes are in the microwave in the kitchen."
Andrew nodded. "Where are you going?"
"To town. Someone needs to get Skye some clothes that fit. After she gets out of quarantine she'll have to get scrubbed down anyway, and I don't think she wants to wear Mack's clothes any longer."
"I would say take Fitz, since he looks upset about all of this, but as much as it gives me the mental giggles to think of Fitz in a maternity clothing store, I think he'd hate it," Coulson said.
"I could tell him we'd stop for ice cream."
"That might change his mind."
May gave another nod to Andrew and headed off down the hallway.
"How's everyone else coping?" Andrew asked as Coulson opened the door and ushered him into the medical bay.
"It seems like we haven't slept," Coulson said. "Most of us haven't. Skye's been either violently ill or destroying things with her powers. Sometimes both."
"She lost control of her powers?"
"The change in hormones caused fluctuations," Coulson said. "At least, that's what we think. We're kind of playing all this by ear, since we sort of obliterated everyone who knows anything about Inhuman pregnancies."
He gestured to the quarantine chamber. "Your patient awaits. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go speak with Agent Simmons."
Andrew set his suitcase down and crossed the floor to the chair in front of the quarantine chamber. "Hi, Skye," he said, glad that her brown eyes seemed alert despite the total and complete exhaustion radiating off her body. He tried very hard not to look at her swollen abdomen, or the way her hands were pressed to it. "See you've brought the casts back into style."
"Not by choice," Skye said. "None of this was really my choice."
She waved one hand at the medical equipment around her. "Turns out there are worse things than being given a regenerative serum by your father that speeds up a pregnancy… apparently I'm just the kind of clumsy that knocks terrigen crystals into a box and then breaks them."
She winced and shifted position.
"How are you feeling? Mentally, I mean," Andrew asked.
"Confused. And exhausted. It's been a whirlwind."
Simmons approached in a Haz-Mat suit. "Doctor Garner! It's lovely to see you," she said.
"Hello, Agent Simmons," Andrew said.
"I'm just going in to assess Skye's vitals and hook up some intravenous supplements and medication," Simmons said. "Then I'll let you continue."
"Not if I'm asleep," Skye said.
"Please, don't let me keep you awake," Andrew said. "I understand how stressful this has been."
Simmons entered the chamber and began threading IVs into the cannula in Skye's foot. "Skye, I've received some information from Lincoln."
"He's alive? And not brainwashed?"
"Yes to both," Simmons said. "He and Mack are heading back from Saskatchewan with Bobbi and Hunter. Uh, but Lincoln told us a few things about…"
She waved her heavily-gloved hand at Skye. "… about what might happen."
"Why am I thinking it's not going to be sunshine and rainbows?" Skye tilted her head to look Simmons in the eye.
"It's not," Simmons said seriously. "But we'll keep you comfortable."
"Jemma! That is not the right thing to say," Skye said. "That makes me sound like I'm dying."
She froze. "I'm not dying, right?"
"Not today," Simmons replied. "Your body's going to experience some massive changes, though."
"More massive than me after all the changes today?" Skye waved one hand at her belly.
"Yes," Simmons said, a gentle smile on her face. "But you're going to be okay. Both of you. I promise."
Skye winced and shifted position slightly. "She says 'thanks.' Or 'bitch, please.' We don't quite communicate on the same wavelengths yet."
"So you know it's a girl," Andrew said from behind the glass.
"No," Skye said. "Not for certain. There's just something… I just know."
"Mother's intuition," Andrew said, nodding.
"Ugh," Skye said, rolling her eyes. "That makes me sound old. I just feel old."
She looked over at Simmons. "Hey, Jemma?"
"Yes?"
"I need the…" Skye swallowed, hard. "Trash can."
Simmons dropped whatever she was holding and dragged the garbage can over. Skye rolled further to one side and threw up.
"Yeah, not going to miss that," she groaned.
Simmons handed her a wet washcloth.
"Getting tired," Skye said as she wiped her mouth. "Also a little fuzzy. No. You're a little fuzzy."
Simmons took the washcloth back. "We're trying to get your vitals under control. It might take a bit. Just hang on."
"Nowhere else to go," Skye murmured, and she let Simmons pull the blanket back over her. "Sorry, Doctor Head-Shrinker."
Andrew laughed. "I'll be here. Melinda left me a novel to read."
"It's a pulp noir," Skye said. "The detective's name is Clive Law."
"That's a perfect name for a detective," Andrew said.
"He's looking for…" Skye's voice trailed off. "… statue… haunted…"
She blinked. "We're going… to have a nap."
"Go right ahead," Andrew said. "I'll catch up with the Law man."
"That's funny," Skye said, a dopey smile on her face. "You're funny."
"I try," Andrew said.
"Agent May?"
"Yes, Fitz?"
"You promised me we'd get ice cream, right?"
"Yes. Is there something wrong?"
"What? No."
"You sound panicked."
"I am not. I just saw… some sort of…"
"Spit it out, Fitz."
"… girdle. And it quite possibly frightened me."
May poked her head around a rack of maternity tops, giving Fitz a small smile. "I saw that too. We're definitely getting ice cream."
