A/N: Hope you're all enjoying spring, wherever you're at. Thanks to all the readers, reviewers, and folks who put this story on alert or added it to your favorites. Those notifications really make my day. Enjoy!
Her arms clad in some sort of futuristic webbing and straps, Skye slid down from her bed and moved to sit near Coulson, who was keeping vigil at Kat's bedside.
"How is she?" Skye murmured.
Coulson looked up. Skye was pale and looked exhausted, but she was upright and seemed pain-free. She sat down next to Coulson and reached forward with one of her casted hands, gently lifting Kat's well-bandaged mitt in hers. "Hi, sweetheart," Skye whispered.
Kat moaned and shifted in the bed.
"Simmons is doing what she can," Coulson said. "At this point, it might be… it might just be keeping her comfortable."
Skye jerked her head up. "What?"
Coulson's face was serious. "They're giving her a great deal more support – to breathe, with fluid balance, with blood pressure. She's got a spiking fever and Simmons thinks she's hallucinating."
Skye shook her head. "There has to be something. We have to find it. We can't let her die, Coulson. I promised her…"
"Skye," Coulson said gently.
"No, I promised her," Skye said forcefully. "She didn't deserve being ripped away from the only family she'd ever known, kidnapped by some sort of horrible monster man, experimented on like she was garbage, tortured and terrified for years – she's got her skin coming off and a group of soldiers full of her DNA and what makes her special and you're telling me we know nothing? We can do nothing for her?"
"Skye." The voice was firm, coming from the doorway of the ward.
Skye hadn't realized she was standing until she found herself turning to face May and Ward, who stood in the doorway, holding a box.
"We might be able to help," Ward said. He held up a flash drive. "We've got all the information Helga Wong had on our stowaway. Something in there might be the clue that helps."
"Good," Simmons said softly. She moved toward Kat's bed holding a syringe, which contained some sort of bright blue fluid. "Anything's got to be better than what we've got now."
May was giving an appraising look at Skye's arms. "What happened?"
"We're not quite sure," Coulson said. "One of the many questions we don't have answers for at this point."
"Start here," Ward said, handing the flash drive to Skye.
She took it, awkwardly, with two of the fingers she was still able to move. "I might be typing with chopsticks," she said, and laughed somewhat awkwardly.
"I could type for you," Fitz offered. "Since I'm of no use to Jemma at this point."
"You're very useful, Fitz," Simmons said. "You helped me figure out how to rig all of the machines in case Kat sets off another EMP."
"I did," Fitz agreed.
He turned to Skye. "Get your laptop. I'll type if you can't, and I might be able to translate some of the medical mumbo-jumbo."
"Fit it together with what we've already got," Coulson said. "We need to figure out the best way to help Kat."
"And the fastest," Skye murmured.
The group broke into small groups then, each working on a separate facet of the problems at hand. Coulson, May, and Ward moved to talk strategy – going over what they had learned about the Institute's set-up, the hierarchy of its leaders, and beyond the Scientist's location, his identity. Simmons swiftly injected the blue drug into one of Kat's multiple IV lines and watched the girl on the bed, her face worried.
Skye guided Fitz through the uploading of the files on the hard drive, and they began to pore through them. To his credit, Fitz typed at an incredibly fast pace, though it irritated Skye that she couldn't take the time to look through each document to her satisfaction.
"Wait, wait, stop," Skye said after the fourth or fifth time she caught a glimpse of a document with a bright red bar across the top. "Open those all again."
Obligingly Fitz went back and found the documents with the red-banded tops.
Skye shifted the computer towards her and began scrolling as well as she could. "Oh, no," she whispered, horrified by what she was seeing.
"What is it?" Fitz asked.
Mutely Skye pushed the computer towards him.
"CLEARANCE LEVEL ZETA-SIX" the red banner at the top of the pages screamed. "CONFIDENTIAL INFORMATION ENCLOSED. ANY OPERATIVE SHARING THIS INFORMATION WILL BE SUBJECT TO SECTION G-8 OF THE ORDINANCE CLAUSE."
The first page contained the following information: "David MacGregor has been eliminated from CGO team. His effects are located in Sector 6, Locker 8B, and should be dispersed to his wife Amelia as soon as possible. Remind her and the rest of her family of the NDA they all signed. DO NOT tell her what occurred with CGO team. Give her the scrubbed version."
At the bottom of that first page was another note, scribbled in blue ink: "Meriwether – we will need someone to replace MacGregor as the head of R&D on CGO team. Please provide me with the names of four operatives who have the skills necessary to assume this role no later than Tuesday. In addition, meet with Clark and Jenkins about the new security protocols in place for your entire squad."
The next document contained more information about David MacGregor, mentioned so hastily in the first. "FINAL REPORT" was the headline, followed by a large block of information. "On this day, [date redacted] at [time redacted], it is the belief of this task force that we have come to a conclusion regarding the events of [date redacted] involving Agent David MacGregor, formerly lead engineer on CGO team. MacGregor was responsible for the creation of the RED system that is now in place in the cybernetically enhanced soldiers working for the Institute. It was his skillful programming and development that enabled the R&D team to create the RED chips, powered by the RED serum obtained from CGO. On [date redacted], MacGregor was overseeing the implementation of new RED chips into all on-the-floor soldier models. He was assisted by two interns, [name redacted] and [name redacted]. MacGregor left his interns on the floor working with the soldiers, who were all placed in containment mode for safety. It was MacGregor's duty to go to CGO, assess her, and remove the newest chip from her cranial overwrite drive.
"We find that Agent MacGregor acted sloppily and in haste when approaching CGO. He used a chemical restraint which has been found extremely useless against CGO's unknown alien metabolism. This gas was pumped through the airlock into CGO's containment facility. MacGregor did not request additional support personnel, as is customary protocol, before approaching CGO. He opened the cranial overwrite drive and removed the new version of the RED chip. Because of upgrades made by the neurosurgery team, we are able to place three empty chips into the cranial overwrite drive to create three RED chips. This was the protocol in place on [date redacted] when MacGregor approached CGO. He was able to remove two of the three new chips before CGO broke through the chemical restraint.
"At that time CGO awoke, grabbed MacGregor by the throat, and pushed him across the room using her freakish alien mutation. While he was momentarily stunned, she re-inserted the cranial overwrite drive and locked it, leaving the newest RED chip in the drive.
"What happened next can be confirmed by video evidence, so there is no need to rehash all of it here. MacGregor, though he had made some extreme errors in judgment, was a strong agent until the end, and fought CGO as best he was able. He lasted less than five minutes. CGO's inborn mutations are strong enough to pull a car out of thin air from two miles away, and with the new RED chip in her drive, she is now unstoppable. She has all the capabilities of the new RED soldiers, which can be found in document [title redacted]. Her stamina, physical capabilities, reflexes, and perception have all been heightened and enhanced.
"In short, CGO is now the most powerful person at the Institute, and she is most definitely aware of it.
"New protocols are being put in place by Dr. [name redacted] and will come into effect this afternoon. Presently CGO is locked in a new type of containment facility, the only one so far that has been able to resist the effects of her freakish desire to pull and push objects. She is, in addition, physically restrained to a bed and given regular, heavy doses of psychiatric dullers and sedatives.
"We will not be making this same mistake again."
"Kat killed a guy," Fitz said, his voice low and shocked.
"She had to," Skye said.
"Did she?"
"I would have killed anyone who was messing around in my brain," Skye said. "Can you find the video footage they're referring to?"
Fitz bit his lip, and then started typing again. "Skye, she's dangerous."
"At the moment, she's unconscious," Skye said, "so I think I'll take my chances."
Simmons approached them. "Anything in there that will help me?"
Skye shook her head. "Not yet."
"We might be running out of time," Simmons said. "I've gotten her fever down slightly, but her pulse is still far too high and her blood pressure is decreasing rapidly. I would expect convulsions to begin here shortly, and after that… after that I'm not sure where to go. We might need to start thinking about pain medication, and keeping her comfortable."
"You mean sedate her even further?"
"I don't like the idea either, Skye," Simmons replied, "but all I can say for sure about Kat's medical condition is that right now she's in excruciating pain."
Fitz looked up. "Morphine would lower her heart rate."
"And her drive to breathe, and her venous output, and her blood pressure."
"Not if you were to use a synthetic pressor," Fitz said. "You could up the pressor to stabilize her blood pressure, which would take care of the output issue, then dose her on morphine so she's comfortable, and she's already on a ventilator."
"Nobody wants to go out like that," Simmons said.
"Nobody's going anywhere," Skye said firmly. "Her story doesn't end here – not like this, not absolutely defeated by the same jerks and sickos who tortured her and left her for dead."
"Oh, Skye," Simmons murmured. "We're running out of time."
"Nobody's done until they're done," Skye said fiercely. "We haven't found anything yet, but there's still time."
An alarm began to blare, and Simmons turned to see which machine was causing the commotion. "Precious little time," she whispered, and headed towards the mechanical medical fray.