The victorious Felix took his winnings from Phil and carelessly threw it by his wallet. He leaned his cane just so next to the bed so it was available in case of a need for escape, and then he placed his right leg over his left knee. He efficiently removed his shoe and then repeated the maneuver with his left leg. That done, he crawled into bed and began his hip exercises, concentrating on his abductors. Anything to keep his mind off what he had just witnessed.
Garrett and Simmons in the same bed, sleeping the deep sleep of the sated.
It failed, naturally.
Maybe because he kept hearing Nikki's laughter in his head, Like you ever had a chance, loser.
Phil climbed in next to him and faced him.
"You ok?" was all he asked.
"Fucking Garrett," a green eyed Felix tersely admitted. "Garrett. I mean, I had my concession speech planned for when you won the fair maiden's hand, but fucking Garrett? It shouldn't be a surprise, as she's always felt comfortable talking to him. I need to change my speech enumerating your stellar qualities to 'I think John has had all his shots and he's housebroken'."
Phil cracked a smile.
"I don't think we need to buy a wedding gift just yet. She wanted to experiment and she went to you first. You needed to be sure that she really wanted it, and she couldn't voice it. You had told me that, so when she flirted with me, I just ignored it. Then she tried it on John, and he yelled, 'Stop your grinnin' and drop your linen'."
"She should thank us for breaking him of the habit of him yelling, 'Drop your cocks and put on your socks' at the most importune times," Felix drolly commented. "During meetings, missions… the cafeteria…"
"Fucking Garrett, though," Phil dryly protested. "Hate 'em."
It wasn't real hate, it was just an exasperated fondness of what a lucky SOB Garrett was.
"Agreed. Hate him." Felix then exhaled slowly. "We really have to resolve his power issue especially if he and Jemma..."
"Yes," Phil softly admitted.
"By the way, there's an exhibition tomorrow night at a college campus about thirty minutes from here. It's about the Howling Commandos, I managed to finagle six tickets to the pre-opening cocktail party. I didn't know Trip was coming, but that's ok. I'll stay back. Between John gloating and you fanboying over Cap, I'd probably need a bucket in which to vomit."
Felix waved his hand to stop Phil's protest. "Besides I really need some quiet time. It's too much noise with them all here. Plus my assistant is making me nervous, she keeps staring at me. It must be the surgical scars, but it's too hot to wear long pants."
Phil who had his own suspicions on why Skye stared, decided not to share. It was highly unlikely that Blake would believe him.
"What's the game plan for today?" Phil asked.
"You and I kill John if he hurt Jemma in any way. I need to run into town for a few supplies. But seriously, I need to call the caterers, they threw a naked party surcharge on the invoice and then asked if their staff needed to be clothed."
"Serves you right for renting the Playboy Beach House for a week," Phil teased.
"Actually, two weeks. I rented it for next week, just in case SHIELD needed to sanitize it," Felix admitted. "Or if John was too ill to move."
Phil said nothing, but nodded in head in acknowledgement of what they weren't saying. That John Garrett had noticeably weakened in the last month and that they were running out of time.
"You know, we really should prank John somehow. They brought your electric guitar? Amp?" Phil asked.
"Yes," Felix answered. "What are you thinking in that Level 8 mind of yours?"
The two men exchanged meaningful glances and they both cackled. Loudly. Like a bunch of tweens face to face with their personal idol, Justin Bieber.
"'Star Spangled Banner' at daybreak," they both exclaimed. "Set the amps to face his windows."
"No… no… we have to do it right. 'Reveille' first and then 'The Star Spangled Banner'," Felix decided. "And by the time he gets out of bed to kill me, I'll probably be able to do a few bars of 'Morning has Broken'."
"I'll have to make waffles to apologize, won't I?" Phil asked.
"Yup," Felix agreed.
"What about you?" Phil questioned.
"I paid for the rental. I don't have to apologize for anything. I could run around naked all day long if I wanted," Felix announced before he shuddered.
It was an almost eerie calm as the sun rose that morning. It was the type of calm that usually forecasted a major hurricane or an upcoming cataclysm. The sleeping victims were all snug in their beds, unaware of what mayhem was about to befall upon them. Trip and Fitz had fallen asleep while spooning, Jemma Simmons was still protectively cradled by Jonathan Garrett and MarySue Pootz was alone in her room as Jemma had told her not to anticipate her return. Mary Sue dreamed naughty dreams of having someone of her own to cuddle, as really everyone had shacked up at the beach house except for her and it had been a really long time since Miles. (So long in fact, that Felix Blake was looking mighty fine, especially his Docker clad butt. And she could have her own personal fantasy about her boss, except in it, he never opened his mouth before him yelling for coffee would just kill the mood.)
Felix and Phil carefully set up the amps while they struggled not to giggle too loud. They repeatedly shushed each other while Winston watched. The canine wore his Mutt Muffs to protect his ears, as Felix planned on being earth-rattling. Fortunately they were the only house for miles as the Von Obscenely Rich Folk who owned this place normally desired a great deal of privacy for their naked beach bingos.
That done, Felix did a quick arpeggio or three, just to rewarm up his fingers. With a head nod, he signified he was ready and Phil turned on the amp.
BAM – The power chord loud enough to wake the dead rattled the windows of the house as he began "Reveille".
I can't get 'em up, I can't get 'em up, I can't get 'em up this morning;
I can't get 'em up, I can't get 'em up, I can't get 'em up at all!
The corporal's worse than the privates, The sergeant's worse than the corporals,
Lieutenant's worse than the sergeants, And the captain's worst of all!
Being a former Army Ranger, Phil immediately snapped to attention and saluted. The mission to prank John was successful as there was a loud roar from Garrett's bedroom which sounded like, "I'm gonna kill you both, you #!%!#%!#%!" Their goal accomplished, Felix continued his concert for his captive audience with "The Star Spangled Banner" before "Morning has Broken".
"Turn it up to eleven," he instructed Phil who was in charge of the amps, and who, like Felix, knew This is Spinal Tap by heart.
That done, he began rattling the windows with the opening chords of "Smoke on the Water".
Jemma Simmons was having the weirdest dream. That she was in the front row of her own private rock show as performed by one Felix X. Blake with Roadie Phil Coulson. She woke shortly after John Garrett's feet hit the floor hard and he began to bellow obscenities out the window which included a strongdesire to murder his two best friends.
That threat delivered to his victims, John Garrett laughed. He returned back to bed, and he kissed Jemma before he snuggled next to her. "That was good, boys. Really good, especially since I manufactured this by making them bring your guitar, Blake. Simmons, enjoying your morning rock concert?"
"Why are they doing this?" She asked.
"Because they know about this, and they're being assholes," Garrett admitted even as Simmons groaned. "No, no, no. It's all directed at me, not you. They're a teeny bit jealous so they've decided to prank."
"How did they find out?" Jemma asked.
"They do perimeter checks and they have a system so they know how many people are in the house and where. So they'd be together, Fitz and Trip would be in their room, single person in your room and two in mine. They'd realize that it was us, because Blue Skies is busy scoping out Felix's ass."
That tidbit caused Jemma to sit up in bed. "She is not," Jemma fiercely protested. "He's mine. I'm not sharing him with anyone… well, with the exception of you two."
"Simmons," Garrett sighed, even as he placed his hand on her smooth skin. "Forget I mentioned it as it would horrify Blake and embarrass Blue Skies even though I can assure you that Blake's butt is better bare. Can I convince you to be naughty again? While we have a musical serenade?"
Jemma made a happy sound of absolute contentment when his hand moved north. She slipped back into bed and gave him a long kiss. "Last night was amazing," she confessed while a delighted Garrett beamed. "Wow. It was…. Wow. You're amazing."
"I have to give credit where credit is due. Cosmo, I read it every time I'm in my doctor's waiting room," he confessed before he gave her a very long kiss. "And for the record, Phil goes crazy when you play with his nipples. I know he claims that he's got tactile anesthesia but I believe his condition is psychosomatic. Are you purring?"
A blissful, purring Simmons nodded her head and then she asked, "Felix's kink?"
"Touch. If he lets you in behind his walls. I mean, Skye could touch him but it wouldn't do a damn thing for him. Now, if you example you saw him later today and you hugged him, perhaps slid your hand beneath his shirt so you were touching bare skin? He'd be overwhelmed."
His comment caused her to cease purring and instead glare at him. "I don't want to overwhelm Felix. I think I've done that repeatedly."
"You have," Garrett admitted before he winced in pain. "No pinching. I'm warning you, if you pinch me, I pinch back. I think that you preferred a much softer touch."
"Evil man," she exclaimed as he proceeded to do just that. "But you're my evil man. Remember that."
Phil and Felix sat in the kitchen, and enjoyed waffles in blessed silence when the first of their bleary eyed victims staggered down for breakfast. John Garrett was first and he poked both of them. Hard. In a threatening tone, he clearly enunciated, "The fiery hatred of a hundred, thousand suns, do you hear me?"
Phil pretended innocence and sweetly asked, "Did you have difficulty sleeping last night? Is that why you're so irritable?"
John Garrett collapsed into a chair and stabbed three stacks of waffles for his own. "Is that what caused that impromptu concert? Seriously, guys, you had your chance. I was the third batter in the rotation," he began. "Better make more waffles, Phil. Trip's getting dressed and that boy can eat."
"Please accept the thanks of a grateful nation for your services. So, yes, we'd like to thank you for taking one for the home team," Felix snipped.
"With all due respect to the lady in question, I really shouldn't mention what happened. However, I'll admit that we only got to second base. You know lately I have difficulties getting to home plate unless one of you boys pitch hit." John easily admitted.
"Can we stop it with the baseball references? We are adults," protested Felix Blake. With a sideways glance at Garrett, he added, "Some of us at least."
"Jealously doesn't suit you, Blake. Seriously, you had your chance, but when she offered, as I knew she did, because you wouldn't sure as hell ask. You needed to her to state her explicit desires, sign a form in triplicate, get witnesses and a note from her doctor stating she was of sound mind and body," Garrett retorted.
He was a little irritable as he didn't get any sleep, but he winced once the words came out of his mouth because he knew Felix would implode because he's view it as a betrayal.
Felix Blake stood up and faced the taller, heavier John Garrett. "Don't you make fun of my condition," he spat. "Don't you fucking ever."
"I'm not making fun of your condition, Felix. I'm just saying that you have deep fears about trusting people and having them abandon you when you need them most so you need a great deal of reassurance," Garrett interjected. "So you don't trust anybody unless they crawl through your personal obstacle course. I'm sorry about your mother, about Nikki. But Simmons isn't one to run away at the first sign of trouble. You know what, if you had just said yes, instead of needing an obscene amount of confirmation, you would have been the lucky one."
"Don't you ever mention my mother," Felix stated in a very low tone. Phil realizing that situation was spiraling out of control, recklessly stepped between the two men to provider a physical barrier.
"Ok, everyone. Deep breath. Break apart," Phil commanded.
"Don't worry, I'm taking my bike out for a ride," Felix snapped before he stormed out of the room.
"He's really pissed at me," Garrett stated after he heard Felix's bike roar away.
"Because of Simmons? No, not at all," Phil insisted.
"No, because I'm dying and abandoning him. Mentally, he accepts it, but emotionally, he's retreated back to the six year old whose Mum left because Daddy beat her once too often." Garrett sighed, a long drawn out sigh. "I'm running out of time, Phil. I worry he'll do something stupid after I'm dead. Well thought out, meticulously planned but utterly fucking stupid. Possibly even worse than getting absolutely trashed and having Elvis marry him and Nikki in Vegas. Tell me I'm wrong, please."
"I can't," Phil admitted. The death of his father had been his defining moment in his life (until he had met an alien with daddy issues) and… God knows how that had fucked him up.
"I'm sorry that I'm leaving you with this mess to clean up," Garrett apologized.
"Eat your waffles, they're getting cold," ordered Phil. "After I went into the wild and hunted them down for you. Skinned them myself, so eat them."
John Garrett, being a growing boy, was on his second servings of waffles when Jemma Simmons came down. She awkwardly smiled at John, he easily gave her a kiss and then she turned to Phil. He gave her a proper kiss and smiled, so she relaxed.
"Is Felix sleeping in after his early morning concert?" she asked.
"He's…" John began before Phil interrupted with a, "He had to run a few errands. He'll be back."
Felix Blake pulled into the Army Navy store and immediately regretted the fact that he had left his cane at the house. It wasn't one of his smarter moves, he realized, but during his loud discussion with John Garrett, John's lips had been blue and his color ashen. It was a startling reminder that John was running out of time, and Felix needed to find an acceptable high voltage power source, in the middle of nowhere. While the thought of asking Phil to get his Asgardian Thunder Buddy Thor involved had been tempting, he had quickly realized that most of Phil's Avenger Delinquents were walking natural disasters (especially Barton) which meant the strong possibility of collateral damage (e.g. building collapsing).
He limped to the counter and smiled at the cashier. He then took out his wallet and displayed his badge, which caused immediate fear in her eyes. Or it might have been his attempt at a friendly smile. Either usually got the same result.
"No, no, no. I'm not here to do an inspection. I want to buy my girlfriend a TASER, as I worry about her safety. Please don't show me the hot pink ones, I want military grade," he explained. "And if you have the one with the handle, so it's two Tasers in one, I'd be happier. I'll pay cash. No paper trail, no credit cards to trace. I worry about her after what happened in New York."
She took him to the back room and displayed what was probably the most illegal amount of weaponry he had ever seen outside of a Texas militia. His eyes focused on exactly what he needed, the double TASER unit in one, an absolutely glorious beast that produced at least ten million volts.
"I want two," he informed her even as he peeled out several hundred dollar bills. "Mom needs one too, and she'll be able to grasp the handle nicely. Arthritis is such a curse."
She wrapped them and then Felix slipped her the fifty had he had won from Coulson. "Lose the paperwork please? I may work for the government, but family first especially in these troubled times. If the government falls, citizens need to be able to protect themselves."
Being a Doom's Day Cultist (he had recognized the sticker in the window which meant that the shop was owned by the fringiest of fringe groups) she quickly shredded the paperwork. That done, he located a hardware shop as he had to acquire a soldering iron and a few other tools.
His mission accomplished, he returned back to the beach house, where he spent several hours in the garage creating a John Garrett power starter upper. While he lacked the sheer mastery his father had in electronics (when he was sober), he had sufficient knowledge (he hoped) to safely reverse engineer the TASERS so they'd provided a continuous high voltage, high flow of electrical current until the battery discharged.
If this worked, he'd be able to put almost 20 million volts (SAFELY) into John Garrett's cybernetic system and Fitz's bots would wake up and do their bot magic.
If Fitz couldn't come up with a better solution, well, at least they could try this.
He owed Garrett that much, and he hoped for the best for him and Jemma.
A despondent Winston abruptly perked up and ran towards the garage at full gallop. The large dog nearly trampled over Fitz in his eagerness to reunite with his pet, which caused the Scot to loudly protest.
"Daddy's home," Garrett catcalled. He had plopped himself into an Adirondack chair earlier in the morning and hadn't moved since, which required Phil to bring him assorted beverages for fear of John's imminent dehydration.
"I'm surprised he didn't take Winston," Jemma stated to Phil. She tried to keep the worry from her voice but Phil still heard it.
"He had to run a quick errand and suiting up Winston takes time. Plus Winston was busy splashing in the ocean and he's entitled to some down time. It's not because of you and John, in any way, shape or form." Phil's reassuring smile did not calm her, not one bit.
"I thought I heard Felix and John arguing earlier today? Something about his mother?" Jemma slowly admitted.
"Felix's mother is a very touchy subject," Phil confessed. "He never mentions her at all. John's bringing her into the conversation, was not the smartest idea he's ever had."
"He never talks about her. In fact, none of you talk about your parents," Jemma prompted.
"Brief summary. John, born and raised in Waco, Texas. Go ahead, laugh, as it's wildly appropriate. His father was a Southern Baptist Minister, so he and John butted heads all the time. John was closer to his mother and she was the only one to show up when he graduated the Academy. My father died in 'Nam when I was ten. He loved red corvettes and Captain America. Notice a pattern? It was then just my mom and me and… it's was tough. We were very close until she died. Felix…. His father had a drinking problem, mom ran out when he was six. That's all he'll tell me, and it's taken a lot of time to get that much," Phil explained.
"Pretty much you're each other's family?" Jemma asked, her brown eyes welling up with tears.
"Yes. John's the big brother, I'm the youngest, and Felix is Jan Brady," Phil smiled but he quickly realized that Jemma didn't understand that cultural reference. "Jan was the middle daughter, overshadowed by her siblings."
"Are you telling me that Felix needs help with his self-esteem?" Jemma asked.
"No, just telling you that he's just Felix," Phil admitted with a dry laugh. "Since I've answered all your questions, I wish to make a statement. A firm statement of sheer determined resolution just so you understand where I stand on a very important issue."
He was dimpled and smiling at her, plus the very amused look in his eyes which made her realized that he was up to NO GOOD.
"You're blushing," he prompted, which just made it worse. "Perhaps I won't make my declaration after all. I see you shiver with antici... pation. Maybe I'd like to keep you in that particular state for a while."
"Phil!" Jemma protested.
"Very well, the next time you want me to be naughty, I'll say hell yes," Phil informed her in a very seductive tone. Then his tone brightened, "Oh look, the caterer is here, better go talk to them. Can you find Felix?"
And the bastard left her! So she stood there while she blushed and was utterly flummoxed.
Jemma searched the house for the missing Felix and returned back to the beach to find a very perturbed Felix loudly discussing the arrangements with the caterers. John Garrett's roaring laughter was heard, and several nubile souls hid behind aprons and not much else.
"Clothing is not optional here," he explained to the lead caterer. "Clothing is a requirement here as I have explained no less than six times to your manager. If your staff doesn't get clothed within the next five minutes, I'm docking ten percentage off your invoice."
He pivoted on his cane and turned to face Skye. "Mary Sue, will stop staring at my surgical scars? You're making me very self-conscious and nervous."
Skye freaked and protested, "I'm not starting at them, I'm staring at your…" She put her hands over her mouth and refused to say another word.
"Staring at my what?" He asked.
"She's staring at your rear, Blake," John Garrett loudly inserted. "Congratulations, you're being sexually oogled."
The heavily graying Felix Blake took one look at John, another long look at an embarrassed Skye and then he looked heavenwards. It seemed that he disbelieved that Skye was, in fact, had oogled his butt and that he was the victim of a gigantic cosmic joke courtesy of John Garrett. "I do anything like this again, just fucking shoot me. Point blank, between the eyes, Phil. Promise?"
"Promise," Phil assured him.
"Thank you! Are they dressed yet?" Felix asked.
"Seriously, you're a true friend, Blake. You got me strippers for my end of life party!" Garrett happily bubbled which earned him the stink eye from Felix and Winston.
Jemma Simmons found Felix Blake sitting in the kitchen. He startled when he realized it was she who was in the room and he struggled to stand.
"Don't go," she mock protested. "Else I'll get the feeling that you're trying to avoid me. I'm also worried as you're limping. You should have taken the Escalade not your bike today."
"I'm trying to stay off the sand as it's really not safe for me to walk there, but Winston likes jogging on the beach. I overdid it," he explained. "Plus the caterers decided to show up ala fresco because this is apparently Hugh Hefner's hangout spot. I even put in the contract that they would be fully clothed."
Jemma giggled loudly while she attacked. She placed her hand on Felix's and gently stroked.
"Easy for you to laugh, some of those body should remain covered," was his retort.
"Are you alright? I heard you and John arguing today. I wasn't sure what you were arguing about," she asked.
"John's an asshole," Felix admitted. "I'm one, too, so we butt butts occasionally. And not just when we frickle frackle."
"When you have sex," Jemma stated. "You're right, you know. When I want something, I should be comfortable enough to express my desires."
"Well," he started, adding the Felix Blake head tilt of which she had grown so inordinately fond, "It doesn't appear I'm that man. Now, I have to go check on the caterers, John might decide to slather himself in butt-ah and make himself the centerpiece for his party."
"Butt-ah?" She asked even as he removed his hand from hers.
"Butter, butt-ah," he explained. He stood up with a noticeable wince and then softly spoke, "I really wanted what you couldn't offer last night. I did."
"I did offer last night," she protested.
"Not in a way that I could accept it. I've told you I need guidelines, boundaries and instructions because it's the only way I can handle my social anxiety. Yes that means I need your signed permission on a triplicate form with a note from your mother saying that you're of sound mind. It's the way it works in Blakeville, I'm afraid."
His crooked smile didn't match the look in his eyes.
"It sounds like a horribly lonely way to live," she protested.
"It is, but it provides me with the security I need."
"There's no possibility that kissing you into utter submission would be sufficient?" she asked.
He left without answering.
The Three Stooges sat next to each other and they held a serious conversation during the twilight Lobster Bake. Felix had grown so annoyed by the Bare Naked Caterers that they had been dismissed with the understanding that they were to show up the next morning to breakdown the setup.
"Seriously, you have a cute butt, that's why she's staring," Phil informed Felix Blake.
"I hate you," Felix announced as it seems the only appropriate thing to say. He had realized early on in their relationship that particular response was the only adequate answer to most of his cohort's caustic comments.
"Come on, Felix, you don't hate Phil," Garrett announced in a passable imitation of Spongebob Squarepants as he waved his lobster at Felix. "We all know you don't."
"Stop playing with your food," Felix snapped.
"Seriously, it seems that Fitz and Trip are seeing each other. Now, with whom do we set up Skye?" Garrett asked. "While she seems quite take with Blake's buttocks, Jemma will not share him with her."
Felix snorted an embarrassed laugh, even while Phil grinned.
"No Ward," protested Felix. "He's been visiting her at my office whenever he's in HQ. I finally told him to get away. Even Sitwell would be better."
"I thought you didn't like Sitwell?" Garrett asked. "They're the bane of your existence."
Felix stole Garrett's butter to dunk his lobster in before he responded, "Ward is. Sitwell seems to be Ward's Minder, as though the Big Guy with the One Eye doesn't trust him. Ward starts his shit, Sitwell doesn't add to it normally, except when I'm really flakey. He also distracts Ward when his bullying reaches a certain point."
Garrett exhaled slowly and leaned towards Felix and Phil. "Thanks, boys. This is a really excellent send off. After dessert, I'll toddle off to bed. ALONE, unless you two care to join me for a cuddle."
"You didn't tell him, did you?" Phil asked Felix.
"I thought I'd spring it on him later," Felix admitted. "Since Phil ruined the surprise, we'll tell you. You have to give a speech."
"What?" Garrett protested.
"We serve dessert, we hand out marshmallows with big pointy sticks. You then stand up and make a speech," Felix announced. "Being a Preacher Kid, we will be timing you, as you are long-winded due to genetics and we don't want a sermon."
"Hate you. Hate you both," protested John to which Felix took two crab legs and poked him, all the while exclaiming in a high falsetto, "Come on, John. We know you don't."
Skye and Jemma had claimed the chaise lounge as their own and they were busy devouring lobster, crabs legs and other seafood dunked in a plethora of butter.
"This was fun, I'm glad I stowed along," Skye told Jemma. "Though now my SO knows that I think he has a cute butt."
"He thinks Garrett is teasing him, as he refuses to accept that he has a simply scrumptious butt," Jemma admitted. "I'm glad you came also. It's been fun."
"Yes, you and Garrett can't stop grinning at each other, so last night must have been a hell of a lot of fun," Skye slyly teased.
"Stop it," Simmons protested.
"Blushing also!"
"Ok, everyone," John Garrett announced as he tapped on the table top. "May I have your attention? I understand that I have to give a speech now, so I'll talk for a bit and you will all be my captive audience."
"My God, we've unleashed a monster!" Phil Coulson catcalled which caused everyone to laugh.
Garrett then stepped on top of the large wooden table. He smiled his usual shit eating grin and extended his arms to encompass the entire world.
"My friends, my countrymen, the incredibly sexy Simmons, I come here to say one thing," he began in a very sonorous tone. He jerked for a moment and he lost his smile. "I've come here to say….." He paused, grabbed his chest, even as Felix and Phil stood up and reached for him. In a softer voice, barely able to be heard over the waves, John Garrett's last words were, "Game over. Game over, man."
Then he fell off the table and landed on his side.
Chaos, but tightly controlled, though Skye bit back a startled yelp at the loud impact of John Garrett against the tiled floor.
"I've brought the med kit," Trip announced even as Felix and Phil began snapping orders.
"Initiating emergency reboot. Code Alpha Theta eleven niner Delta," Felix intoned even while John Garrett's body jerked as the system struggled and failed to reboot.
"Skye, call HQ, tell them we need a chopper here. We can't take him to regular hospital," crisply ordered Phil as he tore Garrett's shirt to reveal the cybernetics that were dark and non-operational.
"No pulse," Felix announced. "Starting CPR at twenty twenty two hours. We'll need to get his airway managed, else he may vomit the three lobsters he had this evening. Where's Trip?"
"Here I am," Trip announced. He threw the kit next to John's face and he fell onto his knees. "I'll intubate him. Can we try another reboot?"
"Battery's dead," Fitz announced. "The bots aren't starting."
"Come on you ugly fucker," Phil protested. "Don't die on me yet."
"They'll be here in ten," Skye announced.
"Intubating," Trip stated. "Stand clear."
"I'll check for breath sounds once you're in," Jemma announced.
"Checking. No pulse at twenty twenty four," Felix announced.
"Did you get the charger working, Fitz?"
"It's working, I'm not sure if it's enough."
The next few minutes blurred in Jemma's mind as people spoke quickly and rapidly. There were crisp instructions from Phil and obscene curses from Felix directed towards their patient.
"We'll try it after he's intubated and a few minutes of CPR."
"Tube is in, equal and clear breath sounds."
"Taping it in position. Hyperventiliating."
"Initiating emergency reboot. Code Alpha Theta eleven niner Delta."
"System is completely down."
"Restarting CPR at twenty twenty five."
"Let me try to jump start the battery, everyone clear."
"Come on, come on."
"Battery is not accepting the charge."
"Question. What if we just bypass the battery? Hit John with enough electricity to wake up your sleepy bots automatically? Once the current starts flowing the bots will be able to fix the battery right?" Felix asked. "We'll just have to support him with ventilations and compressions until the system comes back up."
"We're talking about a sustained voltage of over 20 million volts with …" Fitz began rambling in heavily accented English, while Felix asked questions about currency, resistance and flow rate.
"Guess what? I've got just that in the black bag by where I was sitting. I'm suggesting everyone move back because I'm not sure how this will work. Let's roll John on his side. Skye, get the black bag for me," Felix ordered.
"Yes, sir!"
She ran as fast as she could, grabbed the bag and returned back to the scene. John had been rolled on his side, and Felix was instructing everyone to get at least ten feet away.
"I'm not sure if this is safe," Fitz protested. "You took two TASERS and rewired them. That is not safe!"
"Felix, you're not an electrician, listen to Fitz," Phil argued.
"I did all my old man's wiring jobs when he was too drunk to see straight." Felix stated. He pulled out the two modified TASERS and looked at Phil. "Been fun, Coulson. Now Trip, get Simmons out of here."
"Same here," Phil admitted. "Never knew you wanted to be THOR, though? Are you sure this won't backdraft on you?"
"I have a death wish which is why I need to do this, not Fitz. But seriously, it might work, which is better than the current option of John dying. But I'll do it, as I don't want anyone to get hurt if I didn't ground the wires properly. Skye?" Felix then stated as he carefully placed the two TASERS against John's chest in such a way as to run the current through the battery.
"Yes?" Skye answered.
"Thank you for finally learning how to make coffee. Now get out of here and stay away from Ward, he's nothing but trouble."
"Felix," Jemma softly protested.
He just looked at her and gave her a quick wink before he fired the TASERS. She was still watching him, when the current arched and electrocuted Felix Blake. He fell, lifeless, on top of Garrett even while Skye screamed a bloodcurdling scream.
"This is Agent Coulson. I have two agents down with no pulses. CPR has been initiated on Felix Blake at twenty twenty eight. CPR resumed on John Garrett at twenty twenty six."
Fading light dims the sight
And a star gems the sky, gleaming bright
From afar drawing nigh,
Falls the night.
Day is done, gone the sun
From the lakes, from the hills, from the skies
All is well, safely rest;
God is nigh.
Then goodnight, peaceful night;
Till the light of the dawn shineth bright.
God is near, do not fear,
Friend, goodnight.