Coulson's eyes scanned the room, scrutinizing each detail. Just as he crossed the threshold, the lights flickered back on, bathing the room in a startling, artificial light. His sight was immediately drawn to the two bodies on the floor, their gray uniforms revealed that they were the remaining Hydra agents who had gone missing.
The hollow ache that'd twisted in Coulson's heart gave way to confusion, his brows pulling tight in a mix of worry and curiosity.
Short seconds of silence stretched tense through the air. Behind him, Skye and Ward breathed softly. Coulson swallowed and took a step forward to examine the bodies. His shoes thumped on the floor, the sound growing closer to the small bed with its polka dotted sheets and fuzzy blue blanket, pillows piled in the corner, all in disarray. Everything about the scene made Coulson's heart ache.
He took another step forward, this time his foot landing on broken glass, crunching loudly beneath him and he realized with a pang in his chest that the shards were from a picture frame that had sat on Kit's desk, inside there had been a picture of the little girl and her mom. Ward and Skye stepped behind him, their footsteps adding to the rustle of noise.
Coulson was walking, trying desperately to piece together what had occurred when his knee knocked a chair, causing it to clang against the desk and then his head snapped upward at the sound that followed.
A whimper.
A whimper that was coming from the inconspicuous pile of pillows on the bed.
Then, a sniffle, and a horrible sob that was both the best and worst sound Coulson had ever heard.
For a moment he was stunned, and then his body leapt into action before his mind could finish processing everything. One second he was still, the next he was moving toward the mass of sheets and blankets on the bed, his mind screaming 'Kit' and his heart swelling with hope.
"Kit," he called, voice steadier than he'd anticipated.
He reached the bed, tossing away pillows and blankets with Ward and Skye at his side, helping pull away the barricade. Next to him, Skye stumbled backward for a moment, bringing a hand to her nose. When she pulled it back, blood coated her knuckles. Coulson glanced at her with worry, fighting oncoming dizziness. He looked at Skye and Ward. "Go," he said softly before turning back to bed as a paling Ward helped Skye out of the room.
Suddenly, Kit's voice peeked out clearly from beneath the last blanket. "No, no, no, no, no. Please don't hurt me. Please," she sobbed over and over again. Her body was pressed into the corner as far as she could go, arms wrapped around knees pulled tightly against her chest. Her entire frame shook, her head buried against her legs, curling into herself.
"Kit," he tried, peeling off the final blanket she'd hidden under.
"Please, no!" she cried again.
He gently laid a hand on the small child's shoulder, ignoring a growing pressure in his head and tingling across his body. Kit shrunk back impossibly further.
"Kit, it's me. It's Coulson. You're safe now."
She focused on his voice, daring to look up.
The second her eyes confirmed his presence, Kit untangled her body from its position and flung herself into his arms.
Instantly, the physical pain he'd been feeling dissipated. In its place grew something deeper and arguably worse. Longing and guilt ached in his chest.
"Coulson," she cried, her skinny, little limbs wrapping around him.
"Oh, Kit," he whispered, her arms clung around his shoulders and neck with a surprisingly strong grip considering the weakness that seemed to rack the rest of her body. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. Are you hurt?"
Kit shook her head against his neck, her warm tears spilling onto his skin. She hiccupped and gasped for breath between violent sobs, shoulders heaving. Her head tilted upward slightly and she caught sight of the Hydra men. The scene sent her spiraling over the edge.
Her breathing quickened, growing faster and faster until Kit was worked into a full panic. She pushed her face back against Coulson's shoulder, her skin hot and clammy against him.
"Let's get out of here," Coulson said.
He paused outside the door for a minute, glancing at Ward and Skye. Before he could say anything, Skye stood up. "Is she okay?"
Coulson shrugged, unsure of how to respond, the depth of the situation feeling too large. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, whatever happened in there was weird, but it ended when we left the room. Go take care of Kit, she needs you," Skye whispered, her words drifting past Kit, the small girl too shaken up to process anything beyond the weight of emotions that pressed down on her.
Coulson nodded. "Thank you. Can you two handle the Hydra agents?"
Once he received a reply, Coulson continued walking, pacing through the halls, not sure where to take Kit. He struggled to find a place that would be comfortable without triggering more panic. The fabric of his shirt was clenched tightly between her fingers. He looked at her as he moved. "I've got you, Kit. You're safe now. Everyone's okay. Skye and Ward are taking care of your room and the Bus. May got a little scratched up but Simmons is going to make sure she's all right. Fitz is probably back in the lab by now. And you're with me. Everyone's going to be okay. We're all going to be okay."
A few seconds later, Coulson's feet carried them to his bunk. It was quiet and untouched by Hydra, as well as familiar to Kit.
He went to set her on the edge of his bed, hoping that some space might help her calm down. Instead, the moment Kit felt his grip loosening, she pulled her arms tighter, wrapping her legs around his waist. "Don't leave me," she cried.
Coulson bit back a sigh, his heart breaking at Kit's incessant tears.
He lowered himself into a sitting position, this time being sure to keep her firmly in his arms, rubbing soft circles on her back. He gently kissed the top of her head. "I want you to listen to me, okay, Kit? I'm never going to leave you. Not ever."
A deep breath inflated and deflated her chest, and he could see pain flash across her face as she tried to gain control of her emotions. Her teary brown eyes locked onto his.
"Mommy did," she finally said, a sob catching in her throat.
Immediately she hung her head, suddenly avoiding eye contact. In their close proximity he could feel each individual tremble of her body, shaking as rivers of tears spilled down her cheeks. Each quiver threatened to unravel him, his threads of composure fraying every time she let out a whimper or fidgeted nervously, embarrassed by her own confession. And worst of all, he had no idea how to make it better.
Sure, he could hold her and talk to her, but he'd already failed to keep her safe and that tore through him, leaving jagged edges of worry and self-doubt, and sending guilt pulsing through his veins.
He would give her anything in the world, but he couldn't give her the one thing she needed most: her mom.
The best he could do was give her the truth.
"Kit, I need you to look at me," he said, gently tilting her chin up.
When she met his eyes he continued, "I knew your mom, and I know that she would have done everything in her power to stay with you. Your mom loved you so much, Kit. And she's still a part of you, okay? Right there in your big heart and that brilliant mind."
Kit nodded and Coulson gently wiped off the remaining tears on her cheeks. "I love you, Kit," he said, his voice barely beyond a whisper, the words slipping out before he could think them through. He couldn't pinpoint a moment in the few weeks she'd been there that he realized it, that he loved this child like his own. Maybe it was when he first saw her, quivering and vulnerable and soaked, or the time she'd fallen asleep on his lap one night after dinner, or the day he'd been gone for a meeting and returned to a picture for him that Kit had drawn with Skye.
The small child looked up at Coulson, noticing for the first time that she hadn't heard those words since Audrey died. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed them.
A new set of tears pooled in her eyes and she curled up against him. This time her cries were silent as leaned into the embrace, one hand clutching his shirt, the other on top of her mom's ring, hanging beneath her pajamas.
She sniffled and took a long, shaky breath. "I was scared today."
"I know, and I'm so sorry. But you were also very brave."
"They l-looked like the bad guys who k-killed my Mommy and I thought, I thought…" she trailed off, bottom lip trembling as she shook her head.
"It's okay." His hand stroked her hair gently. "You don't have to talk about it now. We can wait until you're ready," Coulson said, although his mind was spinning, trying to string together a chain of events that explained what happened in Kit's bunk.
That's when it clicked.
The abnormal cell results. The mysterious lack of consciousness in the Hydra agents. The sick feeling, the dizziness, the weakness that occurred when they'd looked for Kit in her bunk…
"Coulson?" she asked softly.
He shifted his gaze back down to her, half his mind still racing, revolving around Hydra and tests and autopsies and how in some way it all led to Kit. The other half of his brain was aching to make Kit better, to undo the pain and hesitation and shyness that stained her words.
"I don't feel good," Kit said, rubbing her eyes.
"Should we go see Simmons?" Coulson asked.
He stood once Kit nodded weakly, but she remained firm on the edge of the bed.
"What's wrong?" Coulson asked, hating that his question had far too many answers.
It was silent for a second before she spoke quietly. "Can it just be us? And Jemma?" she paused for a moment. "My head is… busy… and loud."
"Overwhelmed?" he offered.
Kit nodded, all little more enthusiastically than before, relieved to put a name to the cluster of things she was feeling. "…and I'm still kind of scared," she added, cheeks pink with embarrassment.
"It's okay to be scared. I get scared sometimes too."
"You do?" Kit asked, eyes wide with disbelief.
"I do. I was scared today, when I didn't know where you were or if you were okay."
The mention of the incident made tears pool in Kit's eyes again and she quickly pushed them away before reaching out for Coulson.
Gathering Kit in his arms, he turned around and made his way down the hall. "It's okay to cry. I bet Simmons could give you a lot of reasons why it's scientifically beneficial, but I just know that it helps sometimes," he told her, gently rubbing her back and doing his best to give her a comforting smile.
She gave a wobbly smile in return. He could tell it was forced but let it pass, deciding instead to pull Kit closer.
"Coulson?" she said a minute late, her voice soft and sleepy as she replayed their earlier conversation.
"Yeah?"
"I love you, too," she mumbled, laying her head against his shoulder and stretching to slip her hand into his as they approached the lab.