The car ride over to the Coulsons' house was uneventful, but took nearly thirty minutes. Skye could hear Jemma counting streets and blocks under her breath as they drove, and figured that they were far enough away from St. Agnes that they were probably going to be in a different school district. Something in her stomach twisted at the thought of having to start a new school yet again. Almost every time she had gone to a new foster family, a new school had come with it, and every time she went back to St. Agnes, the jumping back and forth made her further and further behind. Skye knew she wasn't dumb, despite what some of her foster parents had told her over the years, but it was hard to keep up when you were never in the same classroom for an entire year. On top of all that, a new school meant new kids, new lunchroom politics, new people demanding an explanation for her situation. Skye wondered if Jemma had thought about school yet. Jemma was brilliant, and had very little trouble keeping up with the work, but the social aspects of school were always a struggle. For both of them, really, but Skye couldn't help but worry more about how Jemma would fare than herself.

When they finally pulled into the driveway of the Coulsons' house, Skye was more than a little impressed. The house was bigger than she had been expecting, with a second story and big windows on the front. A warm light spilled off of the front porch and made the whole thing look like one of the most inviting foster homes she had ever seen. A lot of times, foster homes were small and cramped, or run down and badly maintained, but this house was neatly painted and had a row of flowers planted out front, leading up to the mailbox. It was clear that the Coulsons put a lot of care into the place, something that Skye hoped was a good sign.

"Well, here we are," Mr. Coulson announced. "Home sweet home. We'll take your things upstairs, and then Melinda can give you the grand tour while I start on some dinner. I'm sure you two are hungry." They piled out of the car and through the front door. Inside, the house was even better. The living room had soft, clean carpet, and the stairs leading up to the second story hardly creaked at all. Mrs. Coulson led them down the hall and opened two doors.

"This room is yours, Jemma," she said, gesturing to the room on the right. "Phil and I have been getting it ready the past few days, ever since Vic let us know you might be coming. We weren't exactly sure what you would like, but hopefully it's all right. We can go shopping this weekend to pick out some things to help you personalize it, if you want." She then turned and indicated the room on the left. "Skye, I want to apologize. We didn't know you'd be coming home with us too, otherwise we'd have tried to make the space more inviting. This is usually our guest room, but it's all yours now. We'll definitely need to do some shopping this weekend to make it more comfortable." Skye could hardly believe her eyes. Mrs. Coulson was acting like the room wasn't already amazing. It had a bed, a desk, and a dresser, and a plain blue rug on the floor. The bed was made up with a quilt that matched the rug, and the walls were painted in a similar shade of blue.

"It's really nice," Skye told her, moving into the room gingerly and running her hand across the quilt. "I've never had my own room before." A funny look crossed Mrs. Coulson's face, but Skye was too busy bounding across the hall to see Jemma's room to pay it much mind. Jemma's room had similar furniture to Skye's, with the addition of a squashy-looking armchair in the corner and a bookshelf already half full of books. The rug, bedspread, and walls in here were all done in shades of soft green.

"Vic told us that you like to read, so we tried to get as many books as we could," Mrs. Coulson explained. "Phil had some ideas based on some of the things his students like to read, and then a woman at the bookstore helped us pick out some others. We can always get some other ones later, too." Jemma was quiet, and Skye knew she was doing her best to take in all the newness at once. Skye couldn't get over how nice everything was. She had never known a foster family who put so much effort into a room before the kids even got there.

"Would you like to see the rest of the house, or would you rather have some time to unpack before dinner?" Mrs. Coulson asked. Jemma didn't say anything, and Skye could see her hand start twitching, looking for something to tap. She was starting to feel overwhelmed.

"Um, maybe we could just stay here for now," Skye suggested, hoping that Mrs. Coulson hadn't noticed Jemma starting to spiral.

"Sure, that's okay," Mrs. Coulson said, moving towards the door. "I'll be downstairs with Phil in the kitchen if you need either one of us. We'll let you know when dinner is ready, and then maybe we can see the rest of the house after we've all had something to eat." She turned and left then, and Skye felt her shoulders release a tension she hadn't known she was holding.

"It's really nice here," Skye prompted, hoping that she could get Jemma to start talking. "And we have our own rooms. That's a first." Jemma nodded, but her jaw was tight, and her eyes were starting to dart around the room. She seemed to be holding her breath, which wasn't exactly a good sign.

"Here," said Skye. She kept her voice low and quiet, and moved gently over to Jemma's new bed. "Feel how soft this bedspread is. That's a good place to start." Jemma took a shaky step over to the bed and joined Skye in lazily dragging her fingers across the fabric. After a few times back and forth across the bed, Jemma moved her hand over to the bedpost and began to tap on the wood. Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap.

"That's a good sound," Skye remarked. The wood was nice and sturdy, and the taps that came from it sounded solid. Jemma nodded again, and managed to release a breath. Slowly, the two girls made their way around the room, Skye encouraging Jemma to touch and tap as many new things as she could. Neither one was exactly sure why, but the act of connecting with everything physically seemed to help calm some of Jemma's nerves. Once they had moved through the room, Skye knelt in front of the bookshelf and beckoned for Jemma to join her. Jemma tapped lightly on the side of the shelf as they perused the many books that the Coulsons had stocked.

"Alice's Adventures in Wonderland," Jemma said, running a finger on her other hand down the spine and allowing a smile to take shape for the first time since they had arrived. "My mum read that one to me."

Skye grinned, and pointed to a thick stack, "Harry Potter. All seven."

Jemma giggled. "You know there are other books out there, don't you? You can read more than just those seven."

"Other books are boring," Skye teased. "Harry Potter books are literally the only books I can finish."

"You're missing out," Jemma chided, sliding Anne of Green Gables off the shelf. "You might like this one. Anne is like you in some ways."

"Debatable. I, for example, would never wear a hat like that," laughed Skye, gesturing to the cover illustration. Jemma joined her laughter, taking the book back and replacing it on the shelf.

"Fine, just shut yourself off from the wonders of literature," Jemma lamented, her tone melodramatic. A mischievous grin tugged at the corners of her mouth, and Skye was grateful to see Jemma's playful side reemerging.

"Jemma, Skye, dinner's ready!" called Mr. Coulson's voice from downstairs. Both girls got to their feet and retraced their earlier steps back down to the kitchen. The kitchen was cozy, with a scrubbed wooden table against the back wall. Four bowls sat on the table, along with glasses and silverware. A warm, buttery smell wafted from the stovetop.

"Grab a seat, girls," Mr. Coulson said as he whisked a platter from the stove over to the table. As Skye came in closer, she saw that the plate was stacked high with grilled cheese sandwiches and the bowls were each filled with steaming tomato soup. "I know it's not the fanciest of first meals, but I wanted to make something that I knew you two would like. Plus, I was starving, so I didn't want to wait too long for anything to cook," confessed Mr. Coulson.

Everyone took their seats, but Skye and Jemma waited for the Coulsons to make the first move before digging in. Different foster families had different ways of doing dinner. Some wanted you to serve yourself, some made kids wait until the adults had gotten their food, and some made you pray before you could start. Mrs. Coulson noticed their hesitation.

"You can start eating whenever you like, girls," she said. "Who'd like a sandwich?" Soon, sandwiches were passed around, and everyone tucked into the comforting meal.

"These are really good grilled cheeses, Mr. Coulson," Skye told him between bites. "Maybe the best I've ever had."

"I do pride myself on my outstanding sandwich skills," he said with a wink. "And Skye, you know you can call me Phil, right? Mr. Coulson is what my students call me." Skye blushed slightly, but nodded and took another bite. She would have to get used to calling an adult by his first name, but she did have to admit that Phil sounded better than Mr. Coulson.

"And you're welcome to call me Melinda," added Mrs. Coulson. "Or May, if you like that better. That's what a lot of my friends call me."

"May?" Skye asked. "Why May?"

"It's my last name. I didn't change it when we got married, and it's shorter to say than Melinda," she explained. Skye quirked her head to one side. She had just assumed that the woman went by Mrs. Coulson, but she realized that she had never actually heard her be introduced that way, except by Sister Margaret, who Skye knew from experience had a bad habit of calling people the wrong thing. She mulled over the name options in her head, and thought that it might be easier to call her new foster mother May than Melinda. Something about Melinda seemed too flouncy for the serious woman, except for when Mr. Coulson – Phil – said it.

They finished eating in a comfortable silence. It was almost as though the adults could tell that Skye and Jemma were overtired and overstimulated, and Skye welcomed the chance to sit without having to answer questions or make small talk. She was sure Jemma was feeling the same way. Once everyone had eaten their fill, Phil rose and began to clear the table.

"I'll take care of these dishes, if you want to show the girls the rest of the house, Mel," he said, stacking plates on his arm. May nodded and got up from the table as well.

"I'll keep it short," she promised. "It's getting late, and I'm sure you two are tired." Skye and Jemma rose dutifully, and followed May as she showed them the living room, a den in the back that had an enormous couch and a big TV, and a room with two desks and a computer that she explained was her and Phil's office. Upstairs, she pointed out the door that led to her and Phil's bedroom, which was down the hall from Skye and Jemma's rooms, and the hall bathroom.

"Phil and I have a separate bathroom attached to our bedroom," she told them, "so this one is all yours. Do you two have any questions? Do you need anything before bed tonight?" Skye and Jemma both shook their heads. "Okay. I'm going to help Phil finish cleaning up the kitchen, and then we'll both be up for bed. We'll check on you before we turn in, yes?" The girls agreed, and May turned to go back downstairs.

In hardly any time at all, Skye and Jemma had both showered, changed into pajamas (which for each was really just a big t-shirt with the St. Agnes logo on it), and brushed their teeth. A glance in the bathroom mirror revealed that the place on Skye's cheek where Michaela had socked her was starting to bruise over, but there wasn't really anything to be done about it then. After getting ready for bed, Skye fished the rest of her clothes out of their duffel bag and stuffed them into a few of the dresser drawers in her room. She would take the time to sort them out tomorrow, when she wasn't quite so tired. Once that was done, Skye crossed back over the hall and poked her head into Jemma's room. Jemma was carefully sliding her encyclopedia out of her backpack. She set the massive book on the desk but didn't open it or pull out the star map.

"Keeping the stars safe for now?" Skye asked. Jemma nodded.

"I don't like to bring them out too early. It's better to know how a place is going to be before I put them up."

"Understandable," Skye said. "I guess this is where we're supposed to say goodnight."

"Suppose so," Jemma murmured. She plucked absentmindedly at the hem of her t-shirt.

"I think this place is going to be okay," said Skye. She wasn't sure if she needed to say it for Jemma's benefit or for her own, but it felt like those words needed to be said out loud. "Who knows how long we'll be here for, but at least we're together."

"Agreed," nodded Jemma. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too," Skye said. She took a deep breath, steeling herself to leave and go to her own, empty room. "Well, goodnight, Jemma."

Jemma crossed the room and hugged Skye, sharp and tight. "Goodnight, Skye."

Back in her own room, Skye pulled down the sheets and climbed into bed. It felt like she was being swallowed by a cloud, which was a pretty nice feeling to have. She was still for only a second or two before she popped up and leaned over to unzip her backpack. Rummaging around, she managed to find a couple pieces of what she hoped would eventually become a fan for the inside of her computer. Rolling back into bed, she began to fiddle with the tiny motor from an electric toothbrush she had disassembled in one hand and the bent fan spokes she had plucked out of a crushed remote-control helicopter in the other. She wasn't exactly sure how she was going to get the whole thing to fit together, but she was hoping that it wouldn't be too hard. She knew all good computers needed to have a fan, otherwise the hard drive would overheat and the whole thing would crash. She wasn't sure how long she had distracted herself with her fan parts, but it felt like only a few minutes had passed when a gentle knock came from her door. Skye stuffed her pieces under the pillow just as Phil's smiling head peered around the door.

"Hey Skye, just checking in. Melinda and I are going to get ready for bed. Do you need anything before we turn out the lights?" Skye shook her head and offered a half smile to him in return. Phil must have noticed her reticence, because he stepped into the room and came to sit at the foot of her bed.

"I know it can be hard to come into a new place and start over all the time," he said gently. "For the record, Melinda and I are very grateful that you decided to take a chance on us. That takes a lot of courage." Skye looked down at her hands and fiddled with a loose thread on her quilt. She didn't want to get emotional in front of Phil, no matter how nice he seemed.

"We'll take things as slow as we need to," he continued. "You just tell me and Melinda what you need, and we'll do our very best to make sure that you get it. We don't want to push anything." Phil smiled at her then, his crinkly-eyed beam of a smile that made Skye feel like, despite all the doubts and fears that were coursing through her, everything would turn out okay. It was a little unsettling to feel so reassured by a man who was basically a stranger to her, but there wasn't really anything Skye could do about it except nod back at him. Fortunately, Phil didn't seem to need anything more, and he got up to leave. With a bidding of "goodnight," he flicked the light switch and closed the door, leaving Skye very much alone in the big, empty-feeling room.

Skye tried her best to lie still and force herself to go to sleep. She was certainly tired, after all the excitement of the day, but her brain was still on overdrive, buzzing like a hornets' nest of thoughts. Just a few hours ago, she had been walking back to St. Agnes from school, dreading having to work on her social studies homework, and now she was in a cloud bed across town, down the hall from a set of brand new foster parents. Skye tossed and turned, trying to find a position that would let her drift off to sleep. When that didn't seem to work, she pulled the fan pieces out from under her pillow and tried to tinker in the dark, without success. She didn't want to turn on the light, though, because she had no idea what the rules about nighttime were around here.

Frustrated, Skye dropped the fan pieces onto the floor beside her backpack and rolled over once again. She wasn't sure how long it had been since the lights had gone out. Was everyone else already asleep? It was so quiet in the house it was almost painful. At St. Agnes, there was always noise, either from the snuffling of sleeping girls, the movement of the nuns, the rumbling traffic on the street below, or even the creaky old building itself. Here, though, it was like everything was muffled, and it was driving Skye crazy. She kicked off her covers, hoping that maybe if she was cooler she would be able to sleep, but that didn't help either. Eventually, Skye gave up completely on sleep, and slipped out of bed. The rug felt nice under her bare feet, and did a decent job of keeping her footsteps quiet as she crept to the door. Skye eased the door open, pleased that it didn't squeak, and then crossed the hallway in a few nimble steps to Jemma's room. Jemma's door didn't squeak when it opened either, and Skye popped her head in as soundlessly as she could. Her eyes were already adjusted to the dark, so a quick look around the room revealed a huddled lump under the covers near the headboard of Jemma's bed.

"Jemma," Skye hissed, doing her best to keep her voice undetectable to Phil and May down the hall. "Are you awake?"

"Yes," came a murmur from the direction of the bed, and the lump shifted. Jemma pulled her own covers back to reveal that she was sitting up, her knees pulled to her chest and her back against the headboard. Not exactly the position of someone who was on the verge of sleep, Skye thought. She crossed the room quickly and clambered into bed with Jemma, joining her in sitting at the headboard.

"I couldn't sleep," Skye admitted. She couldn't meet Jemma's eyes as she said it. Skye knew that Jemma knew that she wasn't as tough as she put on, but even still, it was hard for Skye to admit her struggle out loud.

"Me neither," said Jemma, leaning in close to Skye. "It's so different here."

"Too quiet," Skye offered. "It's weird not hearing everybody else around." She felt Jemma nod next to her. It was comforting to know she wasn't the only feeling the effects of the suburban silence.

"You could stay in here if you wanted," Jemma suggested. Her tone was casual, but Skye could tell that she was hoping for a yes as much as Skye had been hoping that Jemma would make the suggestion in the first place.

"That might work," mused Skye. She tucked her head onto Jemma's shoulder and snuggled herself down into the blankets. She could feel Jemma's chest rising and falling with each breath, and the rhythm soothed her somewhat. The buzzing had stopped, at least. Both girls sat in silence for a while, drinking in the comfort of one another's presence. Before long, Skye felt her eyes start to get heavy, and her head drooped slightly on Jemma's shoulder. Without a word, they both shimmied around until they were actually lying down, each one nestled into the other, and soon they drifted off to sleep.

Next chapter we'll see another AoS character introduced!