Chapter 37 - Directed Inwards

Events in this chapter occur during Season 2, episodes 13 and 14, and may use portions of dialogue from these episodes.

From this chapter onwards, there are Age of Ultron spoilers in the story as well as AoS.

"Wake up, baby," Brock was whispering to Skye as she opened her eyes.

Half expecting to still see the football ground, she blinked groggily as the Playground's medical centre came into focus.

"What - what happened?" she mumbled. "I feel…"

"You probably feel a little groggy still," Jemma's voice came, and the English scientist's face came into view. Skye blinked at her gentle smile. "We gave you something to help you sleep. And for the pain. It's probably starting to wear off, though."

"Pain," Skye mumbled, still confused. She could feel Brock's soothing presence in her mind, as well as his arms around her as he helped her sit up. She leaned against his broad chest, looked down at her hands as they began to ache. "What - why do I have these bruises?" Her hands looked almost black, outside the oddly tight sleeve-like things that were covering her forearms.

Andrew was standing behind Jemma, his lips tight. Jemma glanced at him before speaking again. "I ran some tests. The bruising was caused by capillary ruptures in your arms. X-rays showed more than 75 hairline fractures, from your clavicles to your fingertips."

"You weren't stopping your powers, Skye," Andrew said gently. "You were directing them inwards."

Tears began to slip slowly down Skye's cheeks, and Brock hugged her more tightly, careful though not to put pressure on her shoulders and her sore collarbones.

"What am I supposed to do?" she whispered starkly.

"We'll figure it out, baby," Brock whispered against her neck. "We'll figure it out. Together."

She turned her head to look at him, wincing as the movement hurt. Gasped as she saw bandages over his eyes again - and healing scabs on his cheeks and forehead. "What happened to you?" she wanted to reach up, touch his face, but her arms hurt too much.

Brock smiled tightly. "Turned out the sapphire crystal isn't as immune to whatever my eyes do as we thought."

"We'll find something else," Jemma insisted. "Fitz has already come up with some more ideas…"

Andrew put a hand on her arm gently. "Simmons. Come on. Let's leave them alone."

"What are we going to do?" Skye found herself sobbing openly against Brock's chest once the door closed. He had no answers for her. Could only hold her gently and try and send calming thoughts, try not to let the pain she was feeling overwhelm them both.

Skye let his mind soothe her, taking the edge off her sorrow and fear before either could get out of control. She leaned into him harder and just let herself cry. It was a better outlet for her feelings and kept her from losing control of her power again. The two rocked together for what felt like forever until her tears finally stopped.

"We'll figure something out, sweetheart," Brock whispered in her ear. "There has to be some way to control this. Something we can learn, that we can do."

Nodding, Skye burrowed tighter into his arms. "As long as they don't try to separate us again, I think we'll be okay. This is just… it's easier, when we're together. Even if we can also make each other worse."

Brock nodded, acknowledging the truth in her words. "I won't let them separate us again. We're stronger together."

Skye snorted, choking on a burst of near-hysterical laughter. "In more ways than one," she said when she calmed a little. "But it's worth it. It has to be."

"Hey, you know I won't ever disagree with that," he answered, squeezing her tighter for a moment. "There has to be an answer. I refuse to believe that this is uncontrollable."

"I get that AC doesn't want to tell anyone what's going on," Skye said thoughtfully, "but I can't help but feel like there's got to be someone capable of helping us figure this out. I just don't know who it would be."

Brock hesitated, thinking of the Avengers. But none of them had powers anything like this - except perhaps Banner. And Asgardians didn't seem particularly fond of those altered by the Kree devices, considering Sif's reaction. No, approaching the Avengers for help had to be a last resort. He wouldn't put Skye in range of Thor's hammer unless he was absolutely sure she would be safe.

Thinking about them made him realise that he hadn't been in contact with Sam Wilson since the whole mess in San Juan went down. He should tell Trip to contact the Falcon, check in, tell Sam that Brock had been injured and was temporarily out of commission or something. Trip and Sam would get on well, Brock could imagine them now, though Coulson would no doubt want to brief Trip on what he could and couldn't say.

Skye stayed quiet, sort of following his train of thought - at this distance it was hard to avoid it - but respecting his privacy as much as she could. She'd picked up on the thought of the Avengers and that they were not a good option, at least. And she didn't disagree. But she still thought that there had to be a better answer.

"Maybe… maybe we can check records from the Sandbox and some of the other old SHIELD facilities?" she suggested after a short silence. "We saw records of them working with Donnie Gill and him learning to control the ice. Sure, some of it was probably HYDRA rather than SHIELD… but maybe it'd be a place to start?"

"That's not a bad idea," Brock agreed after a moment of thought. "It probably can't hurt, anyway. It may be best to wait and let us both heal a bit, though. You're hurt badly enough and you don't need another incident to make it worse."

She sighed but nodded, knowing he was right. She did hurt, rather a lot. It wouldn't be a good idea to experiment while on pain medication or being distracted by how much she hurt. Skye knew she'd begun the training that would allow her to push through the pain of an injury long enough to get a job done, but that didn't mean it was a good idea to deliberately put herself in that position.

"I suppose we'll be seeing Andrew again soon," she said as the thought occurred to her. "We kinda got interrupted before we could deal with the dream thing."

"I'd imagine you're right."

"I guess I'd better try to stay relaxed, then. So I don't shake things up too much when he starts asking questions again."

He smiled, lips caressing the side of her neck. "I could help you relax."

That made Skye laugh, move her sore arms a little. "I'm not sure I'll be much use."

"You don't have to do anything." A warm hand slid down over her stomach. Eased inside the waistband of her pants, as he pulled her back to lie against his broad chest. "Just close your eyes and relax, baby," he whispered against her ear. "Let me take care of you."

His fingers were gentle as he caressed her clit, tender and caring, and Skye sighed and gave herself up to his ministrations. Soon she was gasping his name and rotating her hips against his hand, and Brock nibbled gently on her neck as he gave her what she needed, felt her come apart against him and inside him, her pleasure echoing through his mind, relaxing him too as she slumped against him afterwards.

"That's it, sweetheart," he eased her gently to lie down beside him, slipping his hand from her pants and stroking her stomach soothingly. "That's it. Rest now. I'm here, you're quite safe."

He couldn't see her smile, but he felt it against his shoulder, felt her contentment as her eyes drifted softly closed. She wouldn't nightmare this time, he was sure of it. Not unless he did. And he wouldn't. Because he didn't plan to sleep, difficult though it was to keep himself awake with his eyes covered. He lay beside her running battle strategies in his head instead, until several hours later he heard the door slide softly open.

"Who's there?" Brock asked quietly but firmly.

"Fine greeting for your old buddy," Trip's cheerful voice said, though seeing Skye asleep, he kept the volume down.

Brock grinned. "I was just thinking about you earlier, man."

"You thinking about me with that fine woman in your arms?" He heard Trip moving around, guessed the other man had taken a chair. "There's something very wrong with you."

That made Brock chuckle. "Not that, you idiot."

"Well that's good, 'cause you're not my type." Trip's voice turned serious. "Coulson's been filling me in. How are you doing really, Rumlow?"

Brock took a deep breath, very carefully trying to stay as calm as possible. "It's been… tough. We've re-established our soulbond, and it's closer than ever. Close to the point where I can use Skye's eyes, if she'll let me. But that also means that if one of us loses control, often we both do."

"I can see how that would cause problems," Trip agreed, his voice low and calmly accepting. "I hear no one's had much luck in figuring out how to control… well, anything, I guess."

"No. Fitz and Simmons are working on trying to make me a visor that blocks my power while allowing me to see. As for Skye… it seems like hers are so strongly tied to her emotions that when she gets riled up it's impossible for her to stop."

"I heard she did manage to stop it, but at a cost to herself rather than others."

Brock sighed. "From what they tell me, she channeled her power inwards rather than outwards, which is why she's in here at the moment."

Trip frowned. "Yeah, she doesn't look so great right now." He brushed a strand of hair away from Skye's face, knowing that Brock wouldn't see it there. "But wouldn't that suggest that her power isn't actually earthquakes?"

"You know," Brock said thoughtfully, "you might be onto something. I don't think anyone had considered that. She shakes the ground, she can shake the plane when we're on it… but if turning her power inward caused ruptured capillaries and fractured bones, it's not about shaking the ground at all."

"Maybe that's a place to start?" Trip suggested.

"Maybe. We were thinking about looking up some of the records from the Sandbox, see how any of the Gifteds sent there were taught control - if they were."

"Makes sense." Brock could hear the smile in Trip's voice. "Would you like me to start pulling the records up? I can see if anything looks interesting while Skye's asleep."

"If you have time, sure," Brock answered with a small smile and a shrug. "I wanted to ask you for a favor, though."

"What's up, man?"

"I need you to get in touch with a friend of mine, Sam Wilson," Brock explained. "Number's in my phone. I don't want you to tell him what's happening, but I do need to let him know that I've been injured and will be out of touch for a while. We've been working together on and off for several months. Talk to Coulson first, he'll fill you in."

Trip studied Brock's expression, what he could see of it, then shrugged. "Sure, I think I can handle that. I'll avoid answering any questions beyond your injury."

"Thanks, buddy. I appreciate it." Brock offered his hand and felt Trip take it for a moment.

"You want me to let you get some rest?" Trip asked after a few minutes of quiet.

"I'm fine, but I don't want to wake Skye. Maybe you can stop back later, when she's awake?"

"Sure. Skye's always fun to talk to."

"I won't disagree, though lately she's been more than a little on edge. She could probably use a friend right now, though."

"I hear they're kinda in short supply," Trip agreed. "No worries, man. I'll catch you both later."

Brock lay back, more eased than he'd expected by Trip's welcome visit. The other man's cheerful, positive attitude was near-contagious. Fully intending to stay awake, his exhaustion - and the fact that even his enhanced body needed rest to heal the wounds on his face - caught up with him, and he drifted into a dreamless twilight doze.

He woke when Skye moved against him with a small pained grunt. "Hey, baby," he murmured softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore as hell," she muttered unhappily. He could feel her aches, now. Wished like hell he could share his body's advanced healing with her. The cuts on his face were already gone.

"Okay, we'll get Jemma to give you something for that." His stomach rumbled, reminding him it was a long time since he'd eaten and his enhanced metabolism was protesting that fact.

Skye chuckled and tried to nudge his stomach with an elbow, giving up when it made her gasp in pain. "And I daresay we'd better feed the beast, too."

"Mmm," he nuzzled at her neck. "So I can be beastly some more."

That made her chuckle again and sit up slowly, pulling away from his arm. With her eyes open, Brock could see again, and he got to his feet and pressed the call button. Jemma was there in a few moments, her eyes wide and anxious, babbling about how they should both rest some more.

"Skye needs pain relief," Brock said firmly, "and I need food."

"Oh. Oh, your metabolism, of course. Yes. Well, Skye, first." Jemma came to look at Skye's hands, touching them gently, then running her fingers over Skye's collarbones. "Hm, the bruising looks very bad." She looked at Brock and forced a small smile. "If only we could all heal like you do."

Brock smiled tightly. "If I could share it with Skye, believe me I would."

"Yes, yes of course." Jemma nodded, looked back at Skye. "All right, be honest with me, Skye. On a scale of one to ten, how bad is your pain?"

"Three," Skye said after a moment.

"Six," Brock corrected dryly. "Don't, Skye," when she protested. "It doesn't help to be in pain when you don't have to."

"I don't want anything that's going to cloud my mind," Skye insisted stubbornly. "Nothing too strong."

Brock and Jemma between them finally talked her into taking some mild painkillers, and then Skye insisted she wanted a shower. Which would have been a problem, with her arms, except that Brock was more than willing to wash her. He perhaps used the excuse of his eyes to fumble the soap rather more than was strictly necessary, making Skye laugh, but then that had been his goal just as much as washing them both clean.

They came out of the bathroom to find that Jemma and Fitz had made what Jemma called 'a proper British breakfast' with bacon, eggs, mushrooms, fried tomatoes and thickly cut buttered toast. Brock fell on the food as though he hadn't eaten in a year, and Skye found herself tucking in hungrily as well.

"Surprised Hunter didn't demolish this before we got to it," Brock said finally, sitting back and rubbing his full stomach.

Jemma blinked in surprise. "Didn't you know? Hunter's not here. He took off."

"Wait, what?" Skye looked up, startled. "When did that happen?"

"Not long ago," Jemma answered quickly. "Sometime in the past day or two." She sighed. "No one really seems to know why, just that he left. I heard something about commitment issues, but Director Coulson hasn't actually commented on it."

Skye frowned, thinking hard. "But… I thought he seemed to be doing really well with the team…" She bit her lip, wondering if this were her fault too. If what had happened to her and Brock in the Kree city was driving people away.

"Hey," Brock paused and took Skye's hand, shaking her out of her dark thoughts. "None of that. It's not your fault if Hunter chose to leave."

"Certainly not," Fitz seconded quickly. "Maybe he was just happier being a mercenary. Or maybe he would rather be able to choose missions. Or maybe it's something else entirely. We just don't know."

"He didn't talk to Bobbi?" Brock frowned. Something just didn't seem right about the whole thing, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what. Yes, Hunter had enjoyed the merc life - Brock had heard enough of his stories to know that - but he'd genuinely seemed to enjoy being here at SHIELD more, had gradually been taking on more responsibility. The former SAS officer was damned smart and had proved himself more than up to the tactical flexibility required of a senior SHIELD field agent.

"They broke up," Jemma said, "and Bobbi said that might be why he took off."

"That actually makes sense," Skye agreed. "I can see how he might not want to stick around. With Bobbi being as dedicated to SHIELD as she is, considering how small the agency is now, it would be impossible for him to avoid her."

Something was still niggling at Brock, but he shrugged, acknowledging that Skye could be right. Setting it aside, he said only "Well, I hope he comes back. I'll miss his dumbass sense of humour."

"Well, in the good news, Trip's back," Jemma said brightly, "though he says he's only here for a few days before he has to take off again."

Brock frowned at that. With Hunter gone AWOL and him and Skye out of action, Coulson was seriously short of field agents. He'd have thought Coulson would have wanted to keep Trip close. On the other hand - Theta Protocol was very close to completion. Perhaps the Koenigs were in need of manpower even more than Coulson was, and he knew Trip had actually served on the Helicarrier as a pilot in the ship's quinjet wing. His experience would probably be invaluable in getting the huge airborne facility back into service.

He could feel Skye's curiosity at the direction of his thoughts - he'd never discussed Theta Protocol with her, as Coulson had commanded complete operational security, and he certainly wasn't going to talk about it in front of Fitz and Jemma. Taking her hand under the table, he squeezed gently, sending her a thought that they'd talk about it later.

Trip himself came in just then, with a "What's up, y'all?" stooping to kiss Skye noisily on both cheeks. "Good to see you conscious, girl. I came in to see you before but you were all Sleeping Beauty with your Beast standing guard over you."

"I think you're mixing your fairy tales," Skye laughed up at him.

"Probably, didn't have no sisters until I got you girls," he kissed Jemma's cheeks too, making her laugh as well, before dropping into a chair and stealing Skye's abandoned bacon rinds. "So I looked up those records from the Sandbox about Gill," Trip told Brock, "and I ain't got no good news."

Brock grimaced. "Hit me with it, then."

"When Gill got there, his Gifts were minimal. He could make just a little bit of frost, freeze a shot glass full of water. That sort of thing."

"He froze half a harbour in Morocco!" Jemma said.

"Yeah, and HYDRA put him through some nasty shit to get his abilities that far. Pushed him way beyond his limits. Drugs, torture, sleep deprivation, lovely stuff. Must have been when they brainwashed him too."

"I see," Brock murmured. "That kind of training wouldn't work for me and Skye because our abilities don't need increasing. We need to learn how to tone them down, not amp them up."

"Oh, that reminds me!" Fitz, who'd been very quiet, perked up. "I've got some new lenses for you to try, Rumlow. Ruby quartz crystals. They absorb heat even better than the laboratory grown sapphire."

"Okay. Can you make the visor a bit less tight this time?" Brock asked. "It was damned uncomfortable."

"Oh. Oh, I suppose so. You don't want it to come off, though, and it can't have any light leakage around the sides - maybe goggles would be better - or some sort of half-hood - that could work, actually, I could make it out of heat-resistant metallic mesh, titanium perhaps…" Fitz started mumbling to himself under his breath.

"What about something with an adjustable strap?" Skye suggested. "Makes it more comfortable but can still be adjusted to be tight enough to stay on properly when on a mission or something?"

"Yeah, maybe, though that really would work best with goggles of some sort," Fitz answered, startled back to alertness by Skye's question for a moment before staring off into space again, muttering about heat properties.

"We've been looking into a few other things too," Jemma began, seeming a little more hesitant. "Something vibrationally dampening for you, Skye. Gloves, maybe, since you seem to channel through your hands." She offered a small smile as she hurried on, "If nothing else, they may help keep you from shaking things if you're dreaming…"

Skye turned to Jemma in surprise, smiled. "That would be awesome!" She moved her sore, bruised hands awkwardly. "Anything to keep this from happening again."

Brock agreed, pleasantly surprised too. Jemma had seemed very fearful ever since San Juan, especially once she'd looked into his eyes that one time he'd exploded the light. He could tell that she was trying to move past it, to work on helping him and Skye instead of just being scared.

Jemma smiled happily at their enthusiasm. "Come on, Fitz. Let's head to the lab. We can start working on designs for Brock's hood or goggles or whatever it's going to be, and you can help me with selecting the material for Skye's gloves."

Skye smiled as the two scientists left, already muttering science-speak to each other, and returned her attention to Trip. "So, I hear you've been doing Coulson's running around these days? How's it going?"

"Pretty good," Trip answered with a grin. "Though flying commercial's not much fun. Been a lot of places, though, and that's kinda cool."

Brock laughed. "As long as you don't mind jet lag!"

Trip smiled at Skye and Brock. "So, should we get you outta here and go put on a movie? I can't imagine you guys are on active yet…"

With a grin, Skye nodded after a moment's glance at Brock to be sure he wouldn't mind watching through her. "That'd be great."

TRIIPPPP. Everything would have been so different after San Juan if he'd survived, we figured. Jemma would have been a lot less terrified, and Fitz more confident. Skye would have felt more loved, even without Brock.

There was, apparently, a rumour that he might be brought back. That Marvel had been asking the question at a con about who should be brought back and flashed up an image of BJ Britt. Wouldn't that be wonderful? (sigh). Or maybe he could play his own grandfather in Agent Carter… that would be AWESOME too, we would LOVE to see that!