This is the chapter – Skye learns the truth! The action of this chapter happens 12 years after the point where we stand with the TV show. In case you don't remember how Skye was turned in to have her memories wiped, reread chapter 19. You'll get to learn a little something else about that. Things didn't exactly happen as I described them back in that chapter.
Also, this chapter is HUGE. Live through it. :)
On a final note: even though I had already thought of this to be one of the last chapters, AgentMaryMargaretSkitz suggested it as well, so I went through with the idea.
New York, 2027
In a friendly neighborhood where all the houses looked almost the same, what made one of them stand out among the others were its dwellers: Phil Coulson and Melinda May. They were currently the oldest people in that neighborhood, and whoever saw the middle aged couples and the children that frequently visited the house thought they were their children, in-laws and grandchildren. It wasn't exactly a lie. But, everyone in that neighborhood was far from imagining that their neighbors had once worked for an espionage agency.
It was a nice house, small and cozy; its façade was of a light-blue color and the frame of the windows was white, giving off a beautiful contrast. It was a one-story house, with one porch in the front, and one in the back as well where they had a swing. The small garden of the house was always watered and nicely treated, its lawn of a healthy green color. Whenever their 'grandchildren' weren't in the house, the couple didn't stay at home. When the kids were around, the sounds of their laughs filled the air. The neighbors suspected Coulson was ill, but no one ever asked because for one he was the kindest man and they didn't feel like bothering him, and two, May didn't talk much to the neighbors and she seemed to like their private life to stay private. They imagined that if he was sick, last thing she'd want was for everyone to know; it'd make her feel exposed and make him feel frail.
"How come there're so many things in this basement when we moved in here not even two years ago?" Coulson asked, moving card boxes from one way to another to create a path.
"You're a hoarder, Phil, that's why," May explained.
Hudson chuckled as he continued to dig through the boxes. (He got the name Hudson because Mom and Dad hadn't agreed on a name and he ended up being born as they were in the middle of the Hudson River – but the story of his birth isn't relevant right now).
"Oh," he chirped, "found a baseball."
Coulson and May exchanged a look and smiled sadly. Coulson crossed the distance to his grandson and grabbed the ball, "This was Trip's. Guess I forgot to pack it when I took his belongings to his mother."
Hudson said, "I bet his mother has plenty of things to remember him by; she's not missing a baseball."
The man smiled and tossed the ball at the boy, "It's yours now, Hudson. He'd have given it to you if he was around."
Hudson smiled, tossing the ball in his hands back and forth. He knew very well who Trip was; his mother talked about him every now and then. He had been such a close and dear friend to Skye that she named her first child Hudson Antoine just to honor him. Trip would have said "Damn kid" if he had met Hudson – he was every bit of his mother's playfulness and every bit of his father's attitude.
"Found books," Six-year-old Evangeline said, taking books off a box and piling them up on the floor.
"Those are your grandfather's," May acknowledged after she saw the covers, "And they're from the dinosaurs' era."
Coulson raised his head, "My books from the Academy?" May answered him with a nod. He began walking to May and Eva, "Haven't seen those in – What are you doing, little monkey?" His attention shifted to four-year-old Astrid.
"I wanna see that box," she pointed to the one on top of a pile.
He picked her up in arms and put her down on her feet back on the floor, "Alright, but I get you the box. No climbing up things."
"Okay," she crooned and patiently waited to be given the box she wanted to see.
"Grandma, can I take these home?" Eva asked, looking up at May.
"Please do. This basement is getting too packed."
Eva was a smart girl (her parents were Fiztsimmons; intelligence ran in the family genes) so she turned to Coulson since the books were his, "You don't mind me taking them home, grandpa?"
"Not at all. I don't need them anymore."
"What's this?" Astrid asked holding the Walkman cassette player.
May stooped down in front of Astrid, put the earphones in the girl's ears and pressed play. Astrid's eyes glistened and she smiled as she stomped her feet, ecstatic, "It plays music."
The woman was powerless to resist Astrid's charms. She was just like Skye when she was her age. May smooched her cheek and carried her in arms, heading for the staircase. Eva and Coulson were packing the books back in the box and Hudson was still peeking through some other boxes before all of them would go upstairs again. The kids loved going down the basement every time they were their grandparents'; they always got to take something home.
"Hello?" a British voice called from upstairs. "Anyone home?"
"Looks like your mom and dad just arrived, Eva," Coulson said, pointing upstairs.
Coulson carried upstairs the box full of books for Eva and reached for May's hand for an extra help to climb up the steps, while she carried Astrid in arms. Hudson held Eva's hand, helping her on the way upstairs.
"Mummy, Daddy!" she rejoiced and ran to Simmons first with arms outstretched.
Fitz picked up the girl in arms instead, gently reprimanding, "What did I say about running to mommy? She can't pick you up now, sweetheart."
"Sorry," Eva apologized.
"It's alright," he said, pressing a kiss on the top of her head and then put her down on her feet. He couldn't really be stern with his daughter.
"Hey Aunt Jem, hey Uncle Fitz," Hudson greeted, giving the two a hug.
"You're getting too tall, Hudson," Simmons commented with a chuckle.
"I'll try to stop growing up," the kid joked. "Play catch with me, Uncle Fitz?"
"I'm awful at it."
Hudson grabbed Fitz's hand, pulling him to the door that accessed to the backyard, "Gramps coming too."
Coulson had just put the box with books over the kitchen counter when Hudson pulled him out the door by hand.
"Hudson, careful with your grandfather," May warned, "I want him back in one piece."
The boy grinned, thinking his grandmother's warning was just a playful one but May had meant every word she said. Simmons and May threw a glance at Evangeline and Astrid sitting at the couch, sharing the earphones and listening to music.
"Astrid didn't even say hello to anyone."
"She's lost in her own world," May said. Her eyes focused on Simmons' stomach as she asked, "How far long are you?"
Simmons' face reddened, "Seventeen weeks. We didn't say anything earlier because we wanted to make sure. You know, because of…"
Because of Eddie. Edward would be two-years-old if he hadn't had a heart defect that caused Simmons to miscarriage when she was nineteen weeks into the gestation. Coulson and May believed that Fitzsimmons would hit bottom low after losing Eddie, but they held on really tight. However, now that Jemma was pregnant again, Fitz was overly cautious with her; she had suffered a miscarriage and she was already forty-years-old. The chances of a smoother pregnancy were lower.
"I understand," May nodded in agreement, but changed the subject of the conversation, "But, if you're seventeen weeks pregnant, then you already know the gender."
The biochemist grinned, "It's another girl. Melanie," she announced, resting her hand over the barely noticeable baby bump – that was one of the upsides for Jemma: she never looked pregnant.
"It's a lovely name. And about Eva? Is she excited to have a little sister?"
"We haven't told her yet," Simmons confessed. "We didn't tell anyone, really. Only Leo and I know."
"Things will be better this time," May assured, rubbing her arm.
"I know." The woman walked over to the couch, "It's time for us to go home, Evie. Why don't you go and call daddy to come?"
"Okay," Eva said in a sad tone, sliding down the couch.
Simmons tickled Astrid's sides, "What about you? You didn't greet anyone."
Astrid giggled, "Sorry," she lunged herself forward, wrapping her arms around her aunt's neck.
"Careful, Astrid," May advised.
"I'm not going to break," the British one retorted with a laugh.
Eva ran inside and wrapped her arms around her mother, "Brought daddy. We can go now."
"I suppose this box is coming with us," Fitz declared, already picking it up.
May told him, "Coulson's old books. She wants to take them, he says he doesn't need them anymore."
"Oh, great, more things to pile up at home," Simmons commented, walking to the coat hanger to help Eva putting on her jacket.
"I'll read all of them, mum."
Fitz was out the door by now when he turned around, "We'll drop her by tomorrow at the same hour."
"Bye Grandma Mel, bye Astrid," Evangeline waved her hand as she stepped out the door. "Grandma Mel, say bye-bye to Grandpa Phil and Hudson for me."
"I will, sweetheart."
Simmons asked one last thing before leaving, "And please don't tell anything to Skye. I want to tell her myself."
"I won't, don't worry," May assured her.
"Grandma," Astrid called, showing her the Walkman, "I think it broke down."
May closed the door and walked to the couch, grabbing the cassette player, "Maybe it's just the batteries. I'm honestly surprise this even works at all."
"So you can fix it?"
"I think so. Let's see if we have batteries."
After changing the Walkman's batteries, it was working again. Astrid and May walked out to the backyard, the two taking a seat at the porch swing. The girl listened to music, her head rested on May's lap, and the woman watched Hudson and Coulson tossing the baseball back and forth between each other as she ran her fingers through the girl's blonde hair.
Skye didn't take long to arrive. She waited for a while by the front door, but since no one opened the door for her and she heard the voices coming from the backyard, she figured she'd make her way there. May noticed her coming their way, but didn't announce her arrival. Despite being thirty-eight, Skye was still a child at heart. She raised her hand and tapped into the vibrational energy of the air. The small shock wave of air particles caused the baseball to be deviated.
Coulson rolled his eyes, commenting with Hudson, "How mature of your mother."
"What up, RC?" Skye greeted, giving him a hug.
(Coulson had once been AC – Agent Coulson. Then he was promoted to DC – Director Coulson – and now Skye addressed to him as RC – Retired Coulson.)
"Did you come alone, Mom?" Hudson asked.
"Yes," she turned to her son and put a kiss on to the top of his head, "Dad couldn't come. Work stuff."
"But he's coming home, right?"
"Yes. After all it's pizza night. He wouldn't miss it for the world," she grinned as she stroked his hair and then walked to May and her daughter, "How did Astrid and Hudson behave?" Skye asked before putting a kiss on May's cheek.
"Very well, as usual."
"No way," Skye said incredulously, after pressing a kiss on her daughter's forehead, her eyes focused on the Walkman, "Does this even still work?"
Astrid opened her eyes and hugged her mother. Skye was still marveled with the music player, "Where did you get this, Astrid?"
"In the basement. It was in a box."
"Can you lend it to mom for a minute, baby?"
The girl nodded and gave her the Walkman, saying, "The song you sing to me and Hudson is in there."
Coulson was no longer playing catch with Hudson. He walked to Skye, watching her eyes glisten with enthusiasm as she listened to the songs she remembered from her childhood. She liked the title of the cassette: Feel Good Mix. Coulson looked at May, she answered with a nod. Those had been too many years of keeping the secret from her.
"Skye?" Coulson softly asked, removing the earphones off her ears, "We need to talk."
"What's going on?" she asked creasing her brows, looking between Coulson and May as she gave the Walkman back to Astrid.
After telling the siblings to play around in the backyard, May got up and suggested, "It's best if we go inside."
"Is everything alright?" she asked while she took a seat on the couch, feeling a mix of suspicion with scare.
Coulson sat next to her, "May and I have been holding this from you for far too long. I'd just ask you to let us talk all the way through and keep any questions for the end."
There was an awkward silence. Coulson and May were waiting for Skye to verbalize an answer. "Alright," she said with a sigh, "I keep the questions for the end. Just tell me what's going on."
"That Walkman player was yours."
"I don't rem -" May gazed her, "Sorry, question for the end. Sorry, carry on."
"Agents Avery and Lumley found you in the Hunan Providence. Avery was preparing a ghost protocol when she was killed. Lumley was desperate and feared for his life so he left you in an alley, dispatched the coordinates of your location, warning that you were a 0-8-4. He resigned from the agency and completely disappeared. A team of SHIELD's finest found you, took you to the labs and examined you. They realized you were human, but not quite. So Director Fury wanted you around until they'd find what you were. He chose me for the mission, to look after you. He gave me – us – an apartment in DC and assured me it'd all be temporary. His definition of temporary was strange, though. I've grown attached to you as the weeks went by. I still remember how t –" Coulson froze, unable to pronounced the word. He looked at May who gave him a short nod and after taking in a deep breath, he resumed, "tiny you were in my arms with a golden bracelet in your wrist. It said 'Skye' so I just called you Skye. The name fitted you somehow. When I realized, six years had gone by."
"Six years?" Skye was shocked, "How – I don't -"
"Like I said, questions for the end," Coulson said. "One day, out of stupidity I guess, there's no other word for it, I called SHIELD. Told them to take you away. I was…" he drew a heavy sigh, "It was the biggest mistake I did. I still remember you crying in my arms, begging me not to let you being taken away. They had to pull you away and you were still crying and grasping my shirt. You were taken to St. Agnes -"
"Wait," Skye pled, "why did you do that? And don't I remember any of it? What the hell happened?"
"Bahrain," May quietly said. Skye's head turned to the woman who so far had been quiet, "Bahrain happened. I was wreck after what happened there, I was alone because I divorced Andrew, but him," she raised her eyes to Coulson, "he tried to help me. The time he wasn't spending at work or with you at home, he was spending it with me, trying to help me fight my mild PTSD. Only thing was that I was dragging him down with me in that apathetic and self-destructive spiral. When I pushed him away it was too late. He called me once you left, saying it was the worst thing he'd ever done and that he was regretting it already. But there was nothing he could do then. He thought he couldn't help anyone, and that he wasn't good enough to take care of you. So he gave you up."
"Fury then offered me a mission in Peru and I accepted, tried to get away from everything."
"Once I realized I was the reason behind all of what happened, I went to Director Fury. I told him if you or Coulson ever needed anything that I was there to help. You had only been at St. Agnes for five months or so when you had a panic attack, something that hinted at what may have happened in the Hunan Province. SHIELD figured it wasn't good that you'd be away from our wing, so they brought you back and made me your guardian. That lasted for two years."
"But? I'm sensing that there's a but somewhere in that," Skye pointed out.
"I wanted to find about your past. It was the least I could do; we all deserved to know the truth. I looked everywhere but there was nothing. So I went to my mother and she got me nothing but speculations. She showed me a file about a boy of your age that apparently had been abducted by beings from out of this planet. She believed you were like him: people who look like humans but aren't humans."
"Who was he? The boy."
"Quill."
"Wow, wait, Quill as in Peter Quill? That freakin' goofball who calls himself a guardian of the galaxy and insists he's cooler than I am? SHIELD knew about him back then?"
"You think if we did we'd be having this conversation now?"
Skye tilted her head, "Fair point. Carry on."
"Like I was saying, next thing I know she had sent those files to SHIELD and managed to poison their minds with the idea that you were dangerous."
"Not that much of an odd thought."
"Fury showed up at my door a week after that saying that we had to -"
Skye suggestively rose her brow, looking between Coulson and May, "We?"
"Yes, Coulson and I, the three of us had been living together for a week then, if that's what you're looking forward to know. Anyway, we had to turn you in to SHIELD. Pierce had called a meeting with the World Council and they decided to go with the strategy of containment. It was agreed that the best would be to take you to the Guest House, put to work a procedure they called BURMA and erase your memories. Then they'd active the ghost protocol Lumley and Avery had created and you'd bounce from orphanage to orphanage until you'd hit the age of maturity."
Skye was speechless now without any witty comment to make. Coulson continued, "We told you the whole truth that night, about your unknown origins, of how the important people at SHIELD feared not knowing what you were, and we even told you why you were being taken away."
"And you just let me go like that?" Skye said almost inaudibly, her eyes burning with unshed tears.
"Of course not," May retorted. "We had two days to turn you in and we believed that in two days we'd get past the border and run away. We knew SHIELD would be tracking our every move but we had to give it a try."
"We packed some clothes and drove for hours until we crashed down on a motel in the outskirts of Minnesota, near the border with Canada. We had it all planned," Coulson said softly, feeling his heart crush with sadness as he recalled that night, "In the morning we'd be leaving to another state and try to reach the West coast as fast as possible so that we could leave the country by any other means other than car or plane. We'd go to any country as long as it was away enough from SHIELD. But that night Fury called me. He said SHIELD was tracking us, as we imagined, but he said Pierce was two hours away of sending a STRIKE team after us. He didn't care if we'd be brought back dead or alive. We de – de –" Coulson braced himself with troubles in speaking. This time May grabbed his hand, something that slipped Skye's attention, "decided to return. It was best like that; at least we'd all get to live. And now you know the rest: bouncing from orphanage to orphanage until you stumbled upon SHIELD."
"I…" Skye clamped her mouth and felt warm tears trickle down her cheeks, "When I was nine, I stayed this family, the Brodys. They're the one family I first remember that wanted to adopt me. I really liked them but they sent me back to the orphanage -"
"Skye, we're really sorry f -" Coulson tried to apologize.
"No, that's not it… I remember the two families I stayed before them. Well, I don't exactly remember the houses or the faces but… the Brodys were the first to try to adopt me, so it had to be you two. I can't remember it," she cried harder, "but I feel it was you two."
Coulson draped his arm around Skye's shoulder and hugged her. "It's alright now. I'm really sorry we kept this a secret from you for so long but it just never seemed the right time to tell you about it."
"I found my way back to you guys," she cleaned her tears and rested back on the couch, "at least that counts for something. I just really wish I could remember anything."
"Well," the man smiled, "May and I have hundreds of story if you ever want to hear about them."
"You didn't find your way back to SHIELD by chance," May said – she had one more secret to tell them. Coulson and Skye looked at her, "When you were taken away, Fury told me to highly classify or destroy the files regarding to you. I didn't feel it was right to do that. I left some files uncensored, I knew you'd want to find about your past, so that way you'd find your way back to us. No one ever knew about it," May avoided looking at Coulson, "I'm sorry I never told you, Phil."
"She found us," he said, placing his shaky hand on Skye's knee, "and she chose to stay. That's what matters."
"Bet you're sorry now," Skye chuckled. "Not that much fun when I go around causing earthquakes."
"Well, you've rocked our world from the start," Coulson admitted with a smirk.
"That was lame, Phil."
Skye agreed with May, "Like Hudson tells me, that was the lamest joke on the history of lame jokes."
Silence settled in the room and they could only hear Hudson and Astrid's giggles as they played in the backyard. Small smiles framed the adults' faces; the kids sounded so happy that it was heartwarming.
"Thank you," Skye said after a while, "for what you've done. It makes me feel that maybe I wasn't so unwanted as a kid as I always believed."
Coulson opened his mouth to talk but Astrid walking in and climbing to Skye's lap stopped him from saying anything.
"Mommy, play with me. Hudson says he's tired."
The woman smiled and kissed the top of her head, "Sorry, monkey, we're actually leaving in a bit. Go get your brother."
"Alwight," Astrid climbed down her mother's lap and ran outside again.
Skye got up and looked at Coulson and May, "I need a moment to let this sink in. A good night of sleep should help."
May offered a small smile, "Sure. Like Coulson said, we've got hundreds of stories. Whenever you feel like hearing them, we're here."
May was changing into her nightdress when she heard Coulson cussing under his breath behind her. His hand shook as he groped the bedside table, trying to grab the prescription bottle.
She placed her hand over his and guided it to grab what he intended, "Over here."
He grabbed the bottle but then tossed it on the floor. He sat on the edge of the bed and lowered his head. She took a seat next to him. TAHITI had its effects on him but they took twelve years to manifest. Coulson always felt worse at night – his headaches got much more intense, he could barely see things that were inches away from him, and his hands trembled. The reduced sight, his hand tremors and the headaches were normal symptoms he felt every night. There were times of the day when his vision was more cooperative than others – he could see reasonably well, but sometimes he felt he was as blind as a bat. Same thing with his hands; sometimes they were stable, other times they shook so hard he felt he had an earthquake happening inside himself. The headaches were so frequent that he no longer minded them, even though they were quite painful.
Parts of his brain were deteriorating, switching on and off without a warning, or simply getting killed. He never knew which parts would shut down, or when. The doctor said he might be suffering of progressive supranuclear palsy. Most of the symptoms led to that diagnosis but Coulson never mentioned to the doctor about the TAHITI project and how it could be that that was affecting him. It shattered May's heart when the doctor confided, to her only, that Coulson's disease had no effective treatment or cure. He also warned May that his condition would only get worse and told her to prepare herself for the day she'd see him in the bed of a rehabilitation home getting blind, deaf, mute, losing all muscle movement and getting demented, as the days would go by.
As soon as they knew of the diagnosis, May had been insisting on grabbing his hands, touching his arms or kissing him a lot more because she knew that there'd be a day when he'd feel nothing but her touch and she wanted him to remember her, to be reassured that she'd always be there for him. That wasn't like her, to touch people, but now times required so. She wanted her touch to give him a sense of calm and comfort because she couldn't even imagine how terrifying he'd feel to be trapped inside an almost non-functional body. She wanted to let him know that she'd take care of him – that was always her plan. Despite everything they went through, that was still her plan.
"Take a breath," May said softly, running her hand up and down his forearm.
"At least she knows the truth now. I can die -"
"You better shut up right now or you'll wish you haven't been born at all."
"You should leave me to die alone, Mel. There're so many things you could be doing and you're here, stuck with me."
"Stuck with you by choice. My heroic days are over. And so are yours."
"I'm a burden now," he said, looking up at her, "I'm sick."
"You've helped so many people, Phil. Now it's the time when you have to let others help you. Don't push me away," she put a kiss on his forehead. "I'm sure if it was the other way around you'd stay by my side. Wouldn't you?"
"I would, yes," he whispered, giving a small smile but his eyes were watery.
May got up and grabbed the prescription bottle. Holding his hand on hers she dispensed the medicines he needed onto the palm of his hand. He downed the tablets without needing water to push them down his throat – unfortunately taking pills was now part of his life routine. May felt she needed to lighten up the mood – no one other than her knew that he was sick and she always felt miserable watching him so helpless like that.
"Fitzsimmons are expecting a girl," she told him, lying down in bed.
His smile grew as he was slipping into bed, "Really?"
"Yes. They just didn't say anything earlier because of what happened to Eddie. But they've even got the name picked out already," Coulson eyed her expectant to know, "Melanie."
"That's a great name. Me –" he breathed in and out, angry at himself for stammering, "Mellie sounds good," he grinned, lying over his side to get a better look at May.
Coulson opened and closed his hand. May could sense his breathing building up quickly as he was feeling his hand muscles stiffening and hurting. She grabbed his hand on hers and began massaging its back and palm, as a way of relieving the muscle knots.
"Remember that woman Skye met, Agatha Harkness?" May asked, mostly as a way to distract him from the pain. "The witch?"
"Yeah, what about her?"
"I think Skye will go to her. To get her memories back."
Coulson smirked, "Did she tell you that or is that your prediction?"
"She'll show up here tomorrow morning, crying, telling us all about the things she can remember from her childhood. You can write down my words."
"I don't need to. I know you're always right."
"That's what makes you a wise man," she teased.
May had to stop massaging his hand when he held her hand and put a kiss on its inside, "You know I still love you, after all these years."
May's lips drew into a small smile. She pecked his lips, then his cheek and lastly pressed a kiss on his neck and on the fabric of his shirt right over his shoulder. Dragging her body closer to his she rubbed slow circles on the nape of his neck and on his shoulders, slowly sliding down his arm to his hand; she knew how his muscles got stiff and wouldn't let him sleep.
"Ever wondered how our life could have been if we had managed to get away with Skye?" he muttered almost asleep.
"I did," May admitted, "but like you said, she found us and she chose to stay. That's what matters. No maybes, no ifs. We have her."
May's phone buzzed and she stretched her arm back and felt around the surface of the bedside table, grabbing the device. Bobbi had sent her a photo that she had taken. There was no need for a text to accompany it. She and Hunter had been talking about returning to the US so that photo was self-explanatory. May showed it to Coulson. He smiled seeing the photo: Hunter walking through the airport's terminal, hand in hand with their seven-year-old twins Luke Idaho and Leia Isabelle.
"Maybe we should child-proof the house," Coulson remarked, giving the phone back to May.
Skye couldn't sleep. How could she really after learning all that about her past? She didn't hold any grudge or anger, though. She simply felt that her heart had dropped to her toes, sadness overwhelmed her. She didn't have memories of any of what they told her. But they did, and suddenly Skye didn't know who she pitied most: if herself for not remembering or Coulson and May for remembering it all. She recalled, years back, when she heard her father telling her all of his memories of a time when she was only a baby, feeling his heart shatter as he listed the things they never got to do. Coulson and May experienced the same things as Cal.
Her whole life was a hell of a mess, she was used to it by now; growing old gave her maturity and she realized at that moment that she didn't feel bad about her own misery. Coulson and May worked so hard to protect her and love her, despite the mistakes they made along the way (and despite the fact that they kept it a secret from her for so long). She had two children now and couldn't even imagine how life would be if she'd lose them, if she wouldn't get the chance to watch them grow up. They meant the world to her and she'd do anything at her reach to keep them safe and make them feel loved. So she understood their position.
Glancing at her side, she watched her husband sleeping, undisturbed, lying face down, one arm hanging off the side of the bed, the other one smothered under his chest. She smiled and shook her head; it was only natural that he'd awake up grumbling (whining actually) about pain here and there, as it happened almost every morning. She would be sore too if she slept in the same strange positions as his. Skye thought of something. She tried to put the thought aside by turning in bed and accommodating her pillow in an attempt to get some sleep. The thought was still there. She exhaled thoroughly through the nose and tossed again, lying face up.
"Damn it…" she whispered, swinging her feet off her bed and down on the wooden boards.
Skye pondered one last time if she'd really want to do that or not. Too late for pondering – she had already pushed herself up from bed and was sorting through her clothes. She stopped in the middle of the hallway, dressed to leave, but reversed her path. She headed for Astrid's bedroom, watched her sleep for a while. Then she watched Hudson sleeping in his bed, a comic book resting over his chest. Just then Skye walked the way to the living room. Everything was quiet and she tried to keep it that way. But Nova didn't share her thoughts. Once she sensed movement in the house, she jumped down from the couch where she slept and walked to Skye, meowing, the bell on her collar ringing.
"Shh!" Skye hissed, throwing a kick in the thin air, trying to scare the cat, but she didn't really care and meowed again, "Keep quiet, Nova."
One last meowing and Nova climbed up to the couch again and went back to sleep. Skye left a note in the kitchen, saying she'd back in the morning, grabbed the car keys and drove to Agatha's mansion in Whisper Hill, in the outskirts of New York. The woman opened the door in her night clothes, her hair mussed. Skye offered a small smile.
"Sorry to bother so late, Agatha, but I really need your help," she explained.
"Come on in," Agatha stepped back and allowed Skye to enter. Placing a hand on Skye's back, she led her to the kitchen, "Want to drink something? Coffee, tea…?" she asked, picking up the kettle that still had hot water in it.
Skye leaned against the kitchen counter and said, "Coffee, thank you."
"Tell me, how can I do to help?" the woman asked, offering a mug with coffee to Skye, holding hers that contained tea.
"When you first saw me you said I was repressing memories. I thought you meant that I was repressing memories about, well, there's been so much crap in my life that some things are better forgotten. Today I realized what you mean about the repressed memories. I want them back."
"I can't just give you those memories. Your brain would undergo a great stress -"
"I want them," Skye insisted, "I don't care how you do it. I want to remember those eight years of my life as they really happened. Not as they made me remember them."
The woman sighed and sipped on her tea, "This will be massive for your brain. There won't be damages because the memories are there, only repressed. But it'll be brutal and it'll take your brain some hours to adjust. Your memories will trigger in a second."
"Just do it," Skye insisted putting down her mug over the counter.
Agatha sighed and pressed her flat palm against Skye's forehead, "I need you to focus with me. Ready?"
Skye breathed in and out, "Ready when you are."
Like Agatha told her, memories triggered in her head in a second. Eight years of her life flashed before her eyes and settled in in her brain. It felt like an explosion inside her skull. Skye took a step back and opened her eyes widely, remembering every little detail, everything making sense and supporting Coulson and May's explanations.
"How do you feel?" Agatha asked, grasping Skye's arm.
"Wow," she gasped, "feels like something exploded in my head. But I'm alright. Everything makes sense and I remember… everything…"
"Yes, that was the purpose. But like I said, this would be very brutal. You might feel a bit overwhelmed -"
"Overwhelmed? Yes, I feel overwhelmed with feelings, but I'm go -"
Skye passed out and Agatha held her as best as she could, "Like I said, overwhelmed," she said in a chuckle.
Agatha laid Skye on her couch, draped a blanket over her and went back to sleep. Skye woke up in the morning with her phone ringing and buzzing in her pocket. She groaned and rubbed her eyes while fishing the phone out of her pocket. When she stared at the screen she saw nine missed calls from Hill. She whined and kicked back the blanket; her head was killing her, she didn't feel like going to work that day.
"I was waiting for you to wake up," Agatha said as she walked in and saw Skye – she had been watering her plants in the garden, "Join me for breakfast?"
"If it's not too much."
The woman smiled, "Come on."
"You know, maybe not. Hudson and Astrid… Maybe," Skye voiced as she sat up, "maybe I should call -"
"Your husband is also your children's father; he can take care of them, don't worry. Join me for breakfast."
Sluggishly she pushed herself up from the couch and walked to the kitchen.
After getting home, Skye made the way straight to the bathroom to take a quick shower. A note on the kitchen counter informed her that Astrid and Hudson were at school and he'd be spending most of his day out since 'Inhumans can be stubborn sometimes' he wrote at the end of the note. Skye's brain was working like crazy, but she was glad but she remembered everything. Once she was ready, she drove to the cozy house in the friendly neighborhood in suburbs of New York. She needed to see them now. Coulson opened the door and May, from the kitchen, saw Skye standing by the entrance.
"Should I get the tissues?" May teased (proving Coulson that she was always right even though he said he agreed with that), downing her glass of juice in a single gulp.
Coulson smirked and looked back at her as he let Skye inside. "She's not crying, Mel."
"Well, but you might cry, RC," Skye warned, making her way to the kitchen. "Remember the Northern Ireland mission with Garrett?"
"Yes," the man said, unconsciously taking his hand to where he had a very feeble scar.
"You left Hill babysitting me."
"Yes. Where do you want to go with it?"
"She drove Lola," Coulson seemed offended. "We went to the mall. She punched a dude who was flirting with her non-stop, the mall security cop arrested her, I had to rescue her."
"That's my girl," May rejoiced in a low voice.
Skye continued, "When we were leaving I smacked the door against another car and then told you it had been one of our neighbors who bumped against Lola in the garage."
"I knew it," Coulson said. "I knew that dent wasn't made by another car."
"I guess I should get the tissues after all," May joked.
I didn't specify who Skye's husband is. You can see him as Ward, Lincoln, or an OC. Alright, I know I mentioned that he works with Inhumans and that he wouldn't miss pizza night for the world, but it doesn't necessarily restricts the options to Lincoln.
I hope you guys like how I dealt with this, hopefully some of you caught the Agatha Harkness comic book reference. And, as you know, the next chapter is the last. You'll get to read about what could have happened if Coulson and May had succeeded in running away with Skye.