"B4."

"Miss."

Ward leaned back in his chair, a half-amused smirk playing on his lips. Skye couldn't quell the unsettled stirring she felt in her stomach – the team had been taking turns checking up on her and keeping her company, and Ward's vibrations told her he wasn't entirely thrilled at the idea of "babysitting" her. But teaching her how to play Battleship had been his idea, and she had to admit, his vibrations, while not friendly still, weren't entirely hostile anymore either.

Still, he was hard to read, and that fact alone still made her a bit uneasy.

Ward narrowed his eyes, leaning forward and studying his side of the board as if he could see right through to hers. "G2."

"Miss," she responded, clamping down the stirring in her stomach every time she opened her mouth. He hadn't been upset by it yet, so for now she figured she was allowed to speak. No, she reminded herself as firmly as she could, it's okay for you to speak here. "D6."

"Fuck."

An unguarded smirk quirked her lips as she watched him begrudgingly mark his board with one of the little red pegs. "You sank my battleship," he grumbled, crossing his arms, and for all her concern regarding him, she had to admit he looked completely harmless pouting like a child over a board game. "Best two out of three?"

Before she could respond – and the answer on the tip of her tongue was an almost enthusiastic yes – May popped her head into the room, summoning Ward for briefing. Disappointment flickered in Skye's chest momentarily, followed by curiosity and longing; she was getting bored holed up in medical again, and missions with this team were different than at Hydra. Her expression must have changed because both May and Ward softened theirs.

"We can play again later," Ward promised as he stood, putting the game back in the box and setting it aside.

"And I'm sure you'll be able to come on our next op," May offered. Her voice remained that same, steady, smooth tone it always had, and though there was no blatant sympathy lacing it, it still held a note of tenderness. Skye pressed her lips together in what she hoped was some semblance of a smile, squashing down the weird empty feeling that had hollowed in her chest as the two of them left the room.

Just like that, she had been left behind.

(Why did it make her feel that way? It would have been so welcomed at Hydra.)

Over the next few hours, Jemma came and visited to check her vitals, then left again; Fitz stopped by to say hello and crack a few jokes; and Coulson popped in to keep her in the loop. Lorelei, an Asgardian, was enchanting and taking control of men to do her dirty work. Sif, who was also from Asgard, was here too, but she had some sort of collar that prevented Lorelei from speaking, thus preventing her from being able to control people. Skye had so many questions – Asgard, like the place Thor was from? How is Lorelei able to do this, and why only men? If both she and Sif have access to Earth, then how many more Asgardians could potentially arrive? Should we be preparing for an Asgardian-driven apocalypse? – but she kept them to herself. It wasn't her business unless Coulson made it her business. But as he finished filling her in, he chuckled, shaking his head.

"Did none of that faze you?" he asked. Skye shrugged in response. "If you have any questions or comments, you are more than welcome to speak your mind."

The floor was hers. Skye frowned, rifling through all her immediate thoughts. Moments like these were few and far between – no they weren't, not here, not anymore - and she still felt like she had to choose her words wisely. She settled on the most important thought she'd had, and the one most prevalent in her mind, and after taking a few deep breaths, she mustered the voice to ask, "how will you, Fitz, and Ward stay safe from her control?"

Coulson seemed almost taken aback by the question. "I- of all the things you could have asked, I'm surprised you went with that one," he expressed. Then, after a beat, he decided, "actually, no, I'm not. We'll let Lady Sif and May take Lorelei. Ward and I take on anyone she has enchanted."

Skye let that ruminate for a minute before nodding. It didn't seem like sound protection, but she figured she should trust them to do what was best.

After encountering Lorelei in Nevada, Ward being enchanted and leaving with her, the collar being broken, and a quick meeting with a very frustrated Asgardian warrior, Coulson stood before the team to plan out their next move. They all piled in medical, and while it was a little tight, it was manageable. Skye was part of the team and deserved to stay in the loop – and besides, her dejected puppy-dog eyes in response to being left behind in this op didn't go unnoticed, no matter how slight the change in her expression was.

Skye's face was still lacking in color, though she sat up straight in her bed, her arm wrapped around her torso. Simmons was practically glued to her side, constantly glancing over like a mother fretting over her sick toddler. Fitz stood at the other side of the bed, cracking little jokes every so often at some of the things Coulson said and then side-eyeing Skye to see if they landed.

After swiftly explaining where they were at to the young agents and handing off the collar to Fitz to fix, Coulson started to head towards the cockpit to speak with May. He didn't even get down the hall before he heard the door open and shut behind him, and Simmons called out, "sir, may I have a moment!" He turned to face her, and she elaborated, "it's about the GH-325."

"Have you found something?" Coulson asked.

"No," Simmons admitted. "I've hit a wall due to my limited resources. The drug's chemical properties are foreign to me – which is startling in it's own right-"

"We've been over this," Coulson cut in. This team had come a long way since their first op in California, but keeping information short and concise, especially when Coulson had an agent MIA with no leads, was something both Fitz and Simmons still needed to work on.

What Coulson wasn't expecting was the confident, almost pushy, demand that he was met with next. "So I'm requesting, once again, to send a sample of Skye's blood to HQ for further study."

"That's not an option," Coulson told her, his stomach stirring at the thought.

"Why?" Simmons' tone was uncharacteristically sharp. "I don't need to explain to you the benefits of this drug, you experienced them firsthand."

"No." The word slipped out before Coulson could even process. He straightened up. "That's an order."

"That's not a good enough reason!" Simmons blurted out. She even looked surprised by her outburst, but she held her ground.

Coulson narrowed his eyes. "You aren't considering the consequences that sending Skye's blood could have on her safety," he told her steadily.

(That, and the other thing.)

Simmons stopped in her tracks, thinking for a moment before choosing her words carefully. "You aren't considering that keeping her in hiding could be doing her more harm than good in the long run," she suggested, her words light and hesitant, as if treading dangerous water.

"What?"

She took a deep breath. "Sir, they're going to find out eventually – they probably already know. It would be better for all of us if we came clean about her in the first place, and had a chance to explain her case rather than for them to see what it looks like and judge for themselves. And sir…" Her voice grew hesitant, and she proceeded gingerly. "What it looks like is that we're hiding a terrorist on our team. It looks like we are letting the one who murdered Agent Kalmowitz take his place."

Coulson's stomach rolled, and his skin burned with sudden fury. "Agent Simmons." His voice was nearly scathing. "You are not sending Skye's blood to HQ, and if you bring it up again, I will have to reconsider your position on this team."

Before she could react, he stormed away.

"It must be disheartening, being stuck here again."

Skye nodded absently in response to Jemma's remark. Her mind was in Nevada, an unfamiliar ache in her chest taking root as the thoughts in her brain rapid-fired. Was Ward okay? What was Lorelei doing to him? When he comes back – because he is coming back – will he be different?

"I know you want to be back in the field, doing what you can to help," Jemma continued gently.

Skye bit down on the nail of her thumb. She knew Jemma meant well, but her sympathy made her squirm. And the thought of being holed up again and unable to help wasn't doing her any good either.

"On the bright side, you're healing at a rapid pace, possibly even quicker than last time," Jemma added, lightening her tone. "You'll be one-hundred percent in no time. If only I understood the drug we found, it seems like it has taken to your body quite naturally, and I wonder how it might benefit others, if it could revolutionize medicine as we know it…"

Discovery requires-

Skye shivered, pushing the thought away. Jemma would never-

But she was looking over her charts again. And she had another needle in her hand. And she was approaching again, with that apologetic smile and that look in her eye.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I know it's hard for you, I just need another sample, just to be sure."

Skye's stomach flipped, and her breath caught in her throat as she felt the tip of the needle in her arm. She bit down hard on her knuckle, willing herself to comply, she didn't have a choice, there was never a choice-

But it was over as soon as it started. Jemma pulled the needle out and stepped away, and Skye focused on her breathing, on trying to regain her bearings. This was Jemma. This was Jemma, and somewhere on the plane was May, and Coulson, and Fitz, and that Asgardian warrior-

And her superior, he'd been here too.

What if they were all the same?

What if she wasn't safe here?

What if she had never been safe here?

Turns out, none of them were, at least not right at that moment. The plane took off and Jemma had no idea why – they hadn't been on any course before, and there hadn't been any warning that they were going anywhere yet.

After being locked up in the med pod with Jemma, then freed by Coulson, then left behind again while the others fought to regain control of the plane – which had been hijacked by the Asgardian woman and Ward under her control – they got Ward back. Sif took Lorelei back to Asgard and Skye couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe she and Ward weren't on the best of terms, but she had to admit she'd been worried sick about him.

If it had been Fitz, or Jemma… she would have been a wreck.

"I'm not saying you're weak, I'm saying all men are weak," Jemma told Fitz as he inspected the nasty-looking shiner on his face. Skye smirked to herself, leaning up against her bed for support. She was restless, and Jemma suggested that she was probably okay to stand and stretch her legs.

Fitz poked the edge of his bruise. It was almost like a trophy, the way he wore it. Her attention shifted to the change in vibrational energy in the doorway, the familiar frequency of Coulson, and Fitz and Jemma noticed a beat afterwards, following her gaze.

"Sir," Fitz said. "I understand why you had to punch me. I forgive you."

"Can I get a moment alone with Skye, please?" Coulson responded, ignoring him. Fitz-Simmons exchanged a glance, but obeyed, clearing the room. Coulson shut the door behind them and turned his attention back to Skye. She bit the inside of her cheek, willing the nervous vibrations rising in her chest to settle as she sat back down in her bed. Coulson wore a solemn, almost hesitant expression – similar to the one he had when he told her what he found about her past.

Her own expression must have betrayed her worry because he sighed – that same sort of sigh as before, where he was bracing himself for what came next.

"I… I've been looking for a way to tell you this," he started, quickly adding, "you're okay, I promise, you're not in trouble, nothing happened, we're okay. I know you get worried, and I just want to remind you that you're safe, everyone is okay. But… I've been looking around for some answers, something to help explain-" he stopped shortly, his words jumbling together a bit, and looked back at her almost helplessly, almost as if he was at her mercy. "But I don't have any."

Skye's brows knitted together, trying to navigate her way through his word vomit, rifling through to pick out the bits that made sense.

"So… the drug. The one that saved us both- when we found it, I discovered something else." Coulson paused, took a deep breath, then added, "it's source. It was… alien."

Alien. That… wasn't new. Skye nodded, her eyes narrowed, deep in thought. Alien. Alien.

Where had she heard that? Why was it familiar?

"The minute I learned what it was, I tried to keep them from injecting you with it, but I was too late, I- I'm so… I'm so sorry Skye, I-"

But her wheels were already turning, working through the fog in her mind, reaching for anything she could latch onto. Alien. Alien. Alien.

"I was desperate to save your life, and in order to do so I subjected you to unknown ramifications or side effects. We are completely in the dark on this, Skye, I-"

Alien. Alien.

Discovery requires-

Daisy, Daisy, Daisy-

Your father-

Alien, Daisy, your mother-

"Skye, please." Coulson was practically begging now, his eyes misty. "I'm not asking for forgiveness, I know I don't deserve that, but-"

"Coulson…" Skye took a deep breath, the fog settling in once more as she broke her concentration. He grew quiet, allowing her the space to speak, and she dug her nails into her palms to try and ground herself. "Coulson, you saved my life. Twice. And… I'm an 0-8-4. There's nothing out there with any specific details on where I come from, who I'm related to. But there's genetic information flowing through my blood that differs significantly from other human beings, that allows me to do things that normal humans can't do." She was speaking too much. Skye shuddered a bit, half-expecting an electrical shock to crackle in the back of her neck. Dropping her gaze and studying her fingernails, she took another deep breath, and when the shock never came, she finally continued, still tense. "I don't know what I am, Coulson. And... Who's to say I'm not alien myself?"

Alien- Your mother-

Discovery requires-

One of them-

"Maybe we're in the dark," she continued softly, lifting her gaze to look Coulson in the eye again. "But… but we're in it together. Yeah?"

He nodded, his features softening a bit. "Yeah," he agreed gently. "But, not for long." His voice rose again, just a bit. "To hell with any protocols, or any code I used to be bound by. We have a long list of questions we need answers for, and we're going after them ourselves."

Skye frowned, a bit taken aback. She wasn't sure if he was speaking more about himself or about her, or both. But she supposed it was a good idea to start figuring things out - she'd lived in the dark for years, after all, and she was tired of the way things were.

(But what if finding the answers they were looking for led her right back to where she started?)

"I-I mean if the team is up for it-"

"No." Coulson took a step closer, his eyes burning with intensity, with a fire that Skye hadn't ever seen in him before. "No, I trust them, but we need to protect them for this, and we need to protect you above everything. Fury went to dangerous lengths to keep this drug under wraps, lied to me, lied to SHIELD.; this is a powerful secret, a secret men died for. Until we know why, we can't share this with anyone, for their safety and ours."

Skye nodded. "Okay," she eventually said, a little hesitant. "What do we go after first?"

Coulson pointed to her stomach, and instinctively she wrapped her arms protectively around her torso, shifting a little uncomfortably. "The person responsible for this," he told her. "And his connection to the organization responsible for putting you through everything you've been through."

He knows. I repeat; Agent Coulson knows.

"Go to sleep. I'll take it from here."

Coulson didn't protest. He looked practically dead on his feet, mumbling a quick thank you as he stood from his seat next to Skye's bed and made his way to the door. May couldn't look at him - a knot formed in her stomach as he passed by, clawing its way to her throat as he shut the door behind her.

It was just protocol. She was following orders, like always.

(Then why couldn't she shake the feeling that by doing so, she had destroyed something special, something she might never get back, at least not the same?)

(Why couldn't she look him in the eye?)

Of course… there was the other thing.

Skye was at a point in her physical recovery where she probably didn't need to be watched over 24/7 anymore. According to Simmons, she was able to stand and even walk just fine now, and she'd be released from bed rest soon enough.

(Simmons neglected to mention that she'd been extending her patient's bed rest for at least a week now in order to keep collecting blood samples. She'd neglected to mention it, but May saw. May knew.)

But May liked to keep watch over the young woman. Even though she slept more now than she did when she'd first taken refuge with them, it was never restful, and May didn't want her to be alone when she woke - for fear that she'd release a tremor that would crack the plane like an egg and send them hurtling out of the sky, of course.

Skye stirred for a moment in her sleep, her breath a ragged wheeze before she adjusted her position a bit.

Sending Skye out on ops with them was a risk all in itself, regardless of her physical condition. Coulson and May had agreed early on to keep her under the radar for the time being - especially as they were edging closer and closer to finding out who was behind Centipede. Having her in such close proximity to her abusers was not only mentally taxing, but flat out unethical. But Coulson also had expressed keeping her under SHIELD's radar as well, and while May agreed initially, she wondered if not following protocol and reporting her to HQ was going to backfire.

She'd find out soon enough.

(She did not mention the tagalong they'd picked up in her log to Fury. She did not mention her at all in any of them, even before Skye had stepped foot on the plane. But they'd find out soon enough, if they hadn't already. It wasn't long before they intervened.)

Another raspy cry caught May's attention, and she was at Skye's side in an instant, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "Skye," she whispered, giving her arm a light shake. "Skye!"

The young woman's eyes fluttered open and she sat up suddenly, hissing through her teeth and clutching her torso.

"Easy, Skye, take it easy-" May started.

"He's coming," Skye gasped, her eyes wild as they scanned the room. "They're coming for me, they're coming, he was here, he was here-"

"Skye." May forced her voice to be steady. "Skye. Look at me."

She shook her head frantically, tears rolling down her cheeks. Her breaths came out in ragged gasps between her words. "No, no, no- no he was here- he was; it was him, they know, they're coming-"

"Okay, Skye, we can get through this," May told her, keeping her voice even and shifting to put herself in Skye's line of sight. "Focus on me. Listen to my voice. You're safe here. You're on the Bus, in a med pod. You-"

But Skye was just shaking her head. "No," she whispered. "No, no, no you don't understand- I'm not, I'm not safe- I-I'm never, it wasn't- it's not-"

"Look at me Skye." May's tone was more commanding now, and it managed to break through Skye's hysterics. Her eyes were wide and haunted, somehow both worlds away and grounded in fear; her shallow wheezes shuddering through her ribs. "Skye. I need you to breathe for me okay? We can do it together." May took a deep breath through her nose, then after a few seconds exhaled from her mouth. "Now do it with me."

Skye mimicked her next deep breath, letting it out shakily through her mouth. They repeated it a few more times, and with each breath May could see that Skye was slowly coming back to her, until her shaking eventually subsided.

"Do you want to talk about anything?" May asked her gently. Skye shook her head wearily, studying an arbitrary spot in the corner. May sighed softly. "Okay," she told her. "I'll be here when you're ready. Why don't you try to sleep again? I'll be right here, making sure you're safe."

As Skye reluctantly laid back down, a lump formed in May's throat. Skye trusted her, and that wasn't something she took lightly. It had taken a lot to get her to this point.

May's chest tightened. Her relationship with Phil might not have been the only one she potentially destroyed in just a few words.

"I just want you to know that there's going to be other agents on the Bus for the next couple days. Agents Hand, Sitwell, Blake, Garrett, and Triplett will be joining us for a meeting; Mike Peterson is alive, and he attacked Garrett and Trip in a safehouse. We think we're getting close to the Clairvoyant. It's time to go on offense."

Skye nodded, taking it all in. She remembered Peterson vividly, remembered the horror that had snaked its way around her chest at the sight of what they'd done to him.

And Mindy and Ace and all that she'd done, what she should have done, what she didn't do-

She took a deep breath, quelling the vibrations that rose to the surface. If Coulson noticed a change in vibrational energy, he didn't say anything about it.

"I can help," Skye offered, her voice wavering. She was a lot stronger now. Jemma had told her the other day that she was probably okay to resume daily activities again - and technically, combat was a daily activity for her. Mike had technological enhancements now, and she had experience sparring with Centipede soldiers. Her powers might give the team a leg up.

But Coulson shook his head. "I need you to rest," he told her. "And besides… I don't think I want you revealing your powers yet."

Skye frowned, tilting her head to the side. Hydra had no problem with it.

Coulson sighed. "I don't want you on SHIELD's Index. Not yet."

"Index?" Her heart dropped.

"SHIELD keeps a list of enhanced individuals. When someone with powers is on our radar, we go out and do a full psych eval and threat assessment. Those people are then assigned a caseworker. If you remember the pyrokinetic in Hong Kong, he was on SHIELD's Index, and then we were supposed to file an Index Asset Evaluation and Intake report for another woman earlier this year who was reported to be telekinetic, but she had vanished by the time we got there."

Skye nodded slowly, processing the information. She remembered the pyrokinetic well - and more importantly, she remembered what they had done to him. She also vaguely remembered encountering a telekinetic sometime this year as well, but she couldn't quite place it. That detail must have gotten lost among the rest of them. But the way Coulson was speaking sounded like there was a detail missing from his story, and Skye raised an eyebrow. "What else?"

Coulson took a deep breath, dropping his gaze. "SHIELD has… crossed off decidedly dangerous enhanced individuals in the past."

There it was.

Being tagged and monitored was one thing. That was just par for the course for Skye - though she was starting to form her own opinions on being treated like a wild animal that had to be trained. Being crossed off, however…

That didn't sit well.

At all.

The Index sounded like Hydra shit.

(She'd wondered from the start how different SHIELD and Hydra were - whether or not she was actually safe with Coulson's team, with SHIELD as a whole. The new information about the Index threw a whole new perspective into the mix.)

(But how different could SHIELD and Hydra be, if she'd seen her superior and Phil Coulson having a conversation like they were friends?)

Coulson studied her reaction closely, but she squashed down all of the vibrations building up inside of her. She'd known from the start she'd never be safe.

(Coulson was a good man, he was, he was-)

Coulson frowned, concern still written on his face. "Are you okay?"

Skye nodded - (her hands shook in her lap, her chest tightened, her bones rattled as she clamped down on the little tremors inside of her) - and rearranged her face into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm fine."

Coulson sighed. "You're not. I know you're not. I promise you, the Index is for everyone's safety, both ours and the enhanced."

Us and them.

Why was it always us and them?

"I have to go," Coulson told her softly. "But we will be resuming this conversation later. I don't want you to have to worry about the Index - I just want to make sure that your first introduction to these other agents doesn't make too many waves." He smirked humorously in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Get it? Waves? Like… like shockwaves?"

The plan was to split into teams of two, each pursuing a different Clairvoyant candidate - whom of which were found from the Index rejects, those who were originally thought to be gifted but were later proven not to be.

Using a double-blind strategy was both brilliant but also risky - though it offered an extra layer of protection from the Clairvoyant, it also meant that at least one of the teams could potentially be walking right into an ambush with no backup.

"Agent Sitwell, I just received word from the Triskelion. You have orders to report to the Lemurian Star immediately." Agent Hand was succinct as always as she spoke. She reminded Coulson of May with her dry humor and microexpressions, except she was a little less receptive to Coulson, and a little more of a hard-ass.

"So I assume you'll take his place," Coulson suggested.

"In your hunt for Santa Claus?" Her eyebrow quirked the tiniest bit, as if almost bewildered at the thought. "No. I'm taking a transport jet back to the Hub where I can quarterback the teams via satellite. Someone's gonna have to pull your asses out of the fire when things go south. It'll give me a chance to get to know the consultant you've recruited." Upon Coulson's taken aback expression, the corners of her lips twitched upwards the tiniest bit, and she tilted her head, her eyes sparkling. "Did you think I was in the dark on that one?"

"I- you're taking her with you?"

Hand nodded, glancing over at Sitwell, who got the hint. "Guess I've got a boat to catch. Good luck Agent Coulson," he said, excusing himself and walking away.

"Agent Weaver told me you found a new cyber consultant. But she also told me that Miss Armstrong was not in any SHIELD Academy records," Hand explained, her voice carrying a hard edge. "I'd like to personally evaluate her myself."

Coulson's stomach flipped. "Is that necessary, given our current circumstances?" he tried. "Our focus should be on the mission."

"Is there something wrong, Agent Coulson?" Hand challenged. Coulson shook his head. "Good. Tell her to be ready in ten."

Coulson quickly briefed Skye on everything they'd discussed in the meeting as they headed up the stairs to meet Agent Hand. Skye nodded, her head swirling with all of the information as she matched his brisk pace.

As they rounded the corner, her breath caught in her throat.

She hadn't imagined it.

The smiling superior was leaning up against the wall, his arms crossed. He spoke to a Black man whose back was turned to her. Her superior caught her eye, giving her a smile that could almost be read as friendly, and her stomach lurched.

"This is Skye, right?" he asked, stepping out to stop Coulson and Skye. He held out his hand, and despite her best efforts she flinched. Trembling, she shook his hand. "Agent John Garrett. Nice to meet you, well, officially anyway."

"Agent Garrett and Agent Triplett were integral to finding the drug that saved you," Coulson filled in, nodding towards the Black man to introduce him.

"You can call me Trip." Trip held out his hand and Skye hesitantly shook it as well. After a beat she remembered to move the muscles that made her lips turn upwards in what she hoped was at least some semblance of a smile.

"Skye," she rasped, her voice a feeble whisper as she tried to introduce herself.

(As the one thing that was hers and only hers slipped through her fingertips and landed right in the greedy fists of the man she'd been so hellbent on keeping it from-)

Garrett stood in her peripheral, that stupid grin on his face as he regarded her; her stomach rolled the longer they stood so close to him, her fingernails dug into her palms as she tried desperately to keep the tremors building beneath her skin at bay.

"So Skye," Garrett started, his all-too-familiar voice piercing right through her like a knife. "How long have you been with this team? Coulson mentioned he'd picked up a new consultant along the way after losing his other agent."

Blood rushed to her head. Unconsciously she felt herself stepping back towards Coulson - she bumped right into his shoulder, losing her balance. Her breath snagged in her lungs. Coulson grabbed her arm and she sucked in a sharp breath, steadying herself. Garrett raised his eyebrows, and Trip stepped forward, his hands outstretched.

"You okay?" Trip asked, concern etched all over his face.

"I'd imagine she's still a bit weak," Garrett figured, his voice holding a strange note she couldn't quite place. "Not a lot of agents can take two to the gut and be back up on their feet so soon."

"Skye?" Coulson eyed her worriedly. She couldn't pull her gaze away from Garrett. Her skin prickled the longer she stood in his presence, but her feet stayed rooted where they were. Coulson took a small step away, tugging a bit at her sleeve to try and snap her out of it. "Agent Hand is waiting."

Right. Agent Hand. Skye shivered, pressing her lips together in another feeble attempt at a smile. "Very nice to meet you, and thank you… um… for the drug." Her voice sounded hollow in her ears, like she was speaking into a tin can, and she hoped she didn't look as anxious as she felt. Trip returned her smile with an uncanny sincerity, and Garrett nodded, giving her a little side-smirk that was less than genuine.

"Pleasure's all mine," he expressed, and as they headed down the hall she could have sworn she felt his eyes burning holes into her back until they were fully out of sight.

Victoria Hand wasn't what Skye expected.

Harsh cheekbones and steely brown eyes that didn't quite match the red streaks in her hair. Structured pantsuit and thick squared glasses. She seemed like the type of woman that was all hard edges and structure - she reminded Skye of some of the Hydra agents at first glance.

Her lungs still felt like they were flooded when she came face to face with the high-ranking agent. Swallowing, she held out her hand. Hand took it and gave it a curt but firm handshake. "Agent Armstrong," she greeted.

Skye suppressed a cringe. "It's Skye, actually," she admitted.

"Agent Weaver told me your name was Stella." Hand's gaze was scrutinizing, and Coulson looked like he was hoping for a hole to rip open in the plane and fling him into the wind.

Skye nodded, her fingers tapping against her leg. "I've done some self discovery," she tried, choosing her words carefully. "Decided Skye fit me better."

Agent Hand only raised an eyebrow in response, as if looking for an elaboration, but she didn't push it otherwise. Skye offered nothing else, glancing back over at Coulson for support. He immediately looked back up towards where the wall of the plane curved into a ceiling, studying it with immense interest. Clearly Skye was on her own for this one.

After a beat, Hand spoke again. "Shall we?" Skye nodded, casting one last glance towards Coulson before following Hand onto a separate jet that had landed on the Bus.

The flight to the Hub was silent. Hand offered no attempt at communication, and Skye defaulted to keeping her mouth shut. She had absolutely no idea what to expect from the Hub - she'd never heard about it before, maybe only in passing from some Hydra agents, but it was never something that had specifically been put on her radar. But when they landed, Skye realized with a sinking feeling that it was probably the last place she'd want to be.

The Hub was massive, and bustling with agents - upon stepping out of the jet she stopped short, suddenly inundated with the vibrations of hundreds of people, none of which she could place. Her senses overloaded almost instantly, her entire body buzzing in response. Hand turned and gave her the type of blank look that speaks volumes and she quickly pulled herself together, speeding up her pace to match the intimidating superior agent's.

Hand's heels clicked with every step as she strode briskly through the halls, Skye right behind her. Skye tried to keep track of every twist and turn, every brightly lit room, every face, but there was just so much of it all; eventually she resigned herself to the fact that she was simply at the mercy of this woman she barely knew.

Eventually Hand led her to a brightly lit office, the entire wall composed of glass and overlooking the city. Close to the window stood a desk, organized cleanly and sparsely decorated, with just one single framed photo of Hand and another woman sitting by the desktop computer at the corner. Hand gestured towards the chair on the opposite side of the desk, and Skye sat, her stomach churning as Hand closed the door behind them and sat across from her, studying her with a pinched, hard-to-read expression.

"So." Hand finally broke the silence, her voice calculated and precise. "While the boys are out on their wild goose chase for the all-knowing, the mole Centipede planted was right under their noses the whole time."

Skye's jaw dropped before she could even process anything. "I…?"

"It's basic deductive reasoning." Agent Hand's voice was matter-of-fact. "Before Agent Coulson was compromised and recovered from Centipede, you didn't exist. Suddenly right afterwards, I get a call from a highly respected agent at the Academy that Coulson has a new consultant, one with absolutely no history with SHIELD?" Hand narrowed her eyes. "You were clearly planted as a Centipede mole to gather intelligence and report back. There is no Clairvoyant, there's just a nosy, underage agent posing as Coulson's pet project. Now talk."

But Skye couldn't. She sat there, dumbfounded, trying to make sense of what Hand was saying. Hand shook her head, exasperated.

"What is your real name?" she pressed. "Because it's clearly not Stella Armstrong, and you've been posing as Skye to this team."

Daisy. Quake. Mary Sue.

Skye gritted her teeth. There was absolutely no way out of this without revealing everything and putting everything on the line. She couldn't lie her way out of it, not to a top agent in an organization that could tag her, cage her, kill her. She couldn't tell the truth either - there would be no way to back it up, no documented evidence to support her claims, her fact or fiction. And Hand's questions, while straightforward, simply weren't even applicable to Skye. Because what even washer real name anyway? Her birth name? The only name that had ever showed up on any legal documents? Her true name? Her project name?

"Well?" Hand tapped a perfectly manicured nail against the surface of the desk. Her vibrations were rising, growing warmer with hostility the longer her question went unanswered.

Skye took a deep breath, still not entirely certain of her angle but well aware that the longer she tried to figure it out the worse it would go over. "I'm not… My name is Skye." She coughed a little, trying to unstick the words balling up in her throat. "I apologize for the alias I used before."

Hand raised an eyebrow. "Skye what?"

"No last name."

Poots. Johnson. 0-8-4.

Hand shook her head. "This is ridiculous."

Skye sighed, trying to expel some of the pent up energy building inside of her. It was no use dodging questions, nor was answering them doing her any good. She was going to have to give some background - honest background - the question was which parts to leave out and which parts would be sufficient enough for Hand to fill in her own, more accurate narrative. Not to mention the vast amounts of gaps in Skye's own knowledge of herself. Hand pressed her lips together, the smallest hint of frustration flaring at her nostrils, and Skye knew time was up.

"Okay." Her voice was a low rasp, and she cast a quick look over her shoulder at the door before continuing. "My name is Skye. That's a fact. I've had a lot of names in the past, but you won't find any - you don't find a single document on me, they're all gone."

Hand still held an air of skepticism about her, but she untensed a bit as Skye offered information freely. "Why?" she responded curtly. "Who are you, really?"

Skye tapped her fingers against her knee nervously. I don't know. I have no idea who I am or what I'm supposed to be, or who I was, or if I'll ever become anyone. "You're right." She swallowed the lump forming in her throat. "Coulson's team picked me up after his abduction. I belonged to Centipede, but I did not align with them." I chose them. I chose Hydra. "I-" Her voice crackled. "A lot happened. There was… there was an incident. I was injured. Coulson, he-" She took a deep breath, trying to refocus herself. Comply. Submit. Blood and blood and blood- "Coulson didn't want to leave without me. He's a good man." He is, he is.

Hand nodded, her eyes still narrowed as she processed it all. "Centipede's very own Benedict Arnold," she mused. She didn't seem entirely convinced but she at least realized that Skye wasn't quite as useful as she'd hoped. "So what do you know about this Clairvoyant, if you aren't a mole for Centipede?"

Skye shook her head helplessly. "I don't know anything," she told her honestly. "Trust me, I wish I did. I want to know as much as you. But they didn't tell me anything. I didn't even know about the Clairvoyant until recently." Until Raina-

A silence settled between them again. Skye debated on whether or not she should say anything else, or wait for Hand to prompt her again.

She didn't wait long though. An agent knocked on the door, and after being allowed entry, he informed Hand that she was needed in controls.

Mike Peterson attacked Blake and May at the nursing home, critically injuring Blake but practically confirming Nash as the prime candidate for the Clairvoyant. Skye stood stiffly next to Hand during the brief, looking sick to her stomach as she watched medical wheel Blake away on the gurney.

Simmons would be staying behind at the Hub for debrief along with Agent Trip. Blake had managed to tag Peterson with one of Fitz's tracking rounds, and the team wasted no time finding the signal in Pensacola at an abandoned horse racing track.

As the team converged at the location and started lining up outside the building, Coulson caught Skye's eye. "You okay?"

She pressed her lips together and nodded. "I can help."

Coulson frowned. "No, Skye, we've been over this-"

She shook her head, insistent. "Coulson, you saw what happened to Blake." Her voice was small, but full of resolve. "You said it yourself, Mike is stronger and more dangerous than you thought. I have experience going against the Centipede soldiers, and besides, with his enhancements I might be the only one who has a chance at taking him down."

Coulson's chest tightened. She had a point, as much as he hated to admit it. He nodded tersely. "Your powers are an absolute last resort," he told her firmly. "If you at any point feel unsafe, get out. Do not push yourself, you're still recovering. And Skye." She pulled her nervous gaze away from the building, focusing on him. "Be careful. We can't lose you, okay?"

Her lips twitched upwards the tiniest bit, her eyes softening at the sentiment before they clouded over again and she gave him a curt nod. It was like he'd watched the soldier in her take over and push the Skye they knew and loved aside; her expression grew cold and stoic, her stance a little wider and stronger.

"This isn't a surprise party, people, so you can toss stealth out the window," Garrett was telling the soldiers. "Our target's wearing body armor and has enhanced cybernetics. Make your shots count. Let's move." His gaze landed on Skye; behind his shades, Coulson could swear he saw something flicker in his expression. "You'll need this just in case," he told her, handing her a small knife and marching back towards the front of the group. Her eyes dropped down to the knife as she turned it over in her hands; a shadow crossed over her face before she slipped it into her pocket.

"You ringing the bell or knocking?" Ward asked his S.O., to which Garrett smirked.

"Knocking, of course!"

Skye didn't even bat an eye as Garrett blasted the door open, and she fell right in step with the soldiers as they fanned out, guns cocked and at the ready. Coulson knew he didn't really have to worry about her - she was a trained soldier just like the rest of them, and they'd all seen what she could do. But there was a growing pit of apprehension in his stomach not only at the fact that she shouldn't see combat at all, not in her current mental or physical state, but also how natural it all came back to her, at how easily she was able to slip back into that Quake persona they'd met her with.

And, he couldn't ignore his gut feeling that something was very, very wrong.

He didn't have time to dwell on it, of course. Fitz deployed the tracking drones, and the team split up and fanned out. Coulson glanced over at Skye and nodded at her to follow him towards the stairwell; her fingers twitched by her sides, her eyes focused but her expression blank.

"Stay with me," he told her. She only flicked her gaze towards him in response before refocusing, suddenly spinning on her heel.

"Ward," she breathed.

"What?"

Suddenly, a blast echoed through the halls, followed by Ward's voice crackling in on the comms. "I've got two men down!"

"Are you echolocating?" Coulson asked incredulously. Skye gave him a curt nod in response before taking a few steps in another direction. "Skye," he reminded her. "Stay with me."

She froze suddenly, grabbing Coulson's arm and tugging him away from the overlook just as Peterson launched himself from one of the upper floors, landing hard at ground level once more.

"He just ducked into the southwest stairwell," Coulson reported into the comms, heading towards the stairs. "In pursuit."

His heart slammed in his chest as he ran down the stairs after Peterson, Skye right on his heels. Darkness engulfed them as they flung the door open and headed down, the air musty and still. "All teams - he's headed into the sub-basement, I do not have a visual. Fitz, you have a retriever down here?"

"On their way," Fitz answered.

Skye quickened her pace, stepping in front of Coulson, her hand out as she honed in on the vibrational energy in the halls. Coulson started to reach out to grab her arm and pull her back, then stopped himself. Trust her, he reminded himself apprehensively. She's got this.

Above them, one of the retrievers hummed past, sending a bright golden light down the corridor. Slowly they made their way down in pursuit, and suddenly Skye froze, holding her hand out for Coulson to stop. His finger on the trigger, he rounded the corner and came face to face with Garrett's gun.

"Easy!" Garrett somehow still managed a snarky tone. "I come in peace."

"How about a signal next time?" Coulson suggested tersely.

A sharp intake of breath pulled Coulson's attention. Skye's eyes widened and she stepped out in front of them, her hands outstretched just as a blast echoed through the hall. Coulson and Garrett ducked out of the way, but Skye stood her ground.

Coulson watched in horror as Skye let out a massive shockwave, creating a barrier of vibrational energy that repelled the attack. Garrett watched, his expression completely unreadable.

Peterson took off around the corner once more, and after stumbling a bit and catching her breath, Skye took off after him. Garrett whistled, impressed. "So that's why they call her Quake," he mused.

"Don't call her that," Coulson snapped, his gun at the ready as he took off down the hall after them. "We gotta move."

"Sir, there's someone else down there." Fitz's voice crackled back in as one of his retrievers flew past them again, deeper into the basement.

"Copy that."

Skye was frozen by a door, her eyes trained on the blue light emanating into the hallway, her hands outstretched. Coulson and Garrett caught up to her, taking a tense breath before entering the room, Skye right behind them.

The room was lit only with monitors showing security feeds, their blue light casting an eerie glow on the man perched right in the center. Static and the beeping of his life support were the only sounds in the room. Skye's fingers twitched, and she automatically moved a little closer to Coulson, keeping right behind him.

"What the hell," Garrett murmured.

As they crept around him, a robotic voice broke through; "Agent Coulson, Agent Garrett, Quake; I surrender."

Almost immediately after, the rest of the team followed suit, Ward and May at the front. May almost instinctively made her way right next to Coulson, her eyes trained on the vegetative man in front of them.

"Forgive me if we don't shake hands," the voice droned. "I don't like to be touched."

"Sir, we've got a lot of wires back here," Ward said.

"Don't touch anything," Coulson ordered. "We need this room swept for explosives."

"There are no traps here, Agent Coulson." Coulson cast a quick glance over at Skye, who nodded to confirm. The voice continued; "You're here because we are destined to meet."

"You're the Clairvoyant?" Garrett asked.

"I'm Thomas Nash. Mr. Po gave me that other name. A bit dramatic for my taste."

"Eyes open everybody," Coulson told the team. "We don't know where Deathlok is or who else is down here."

"Mr. Peterson is gone. I cut his feed, so you won't find him." Nash's eyes were unblinking, but wide as he regarded them.

The entire situation felt off to Coulson, his stomach churning the longer they stood in the room with Nash. He was all too aware of Skye right behind him. "But you had him lead us here. Why?"

"So I could see you with my own eyes instead of his. Now I understand why I couldn't see you after you died - because you yourself could not see." The air grew tense as Nash continued. "You were simply a broken man who did not know he was broken."

Horror snaked its way into Coulson's throat. "You're one to talk," he spat.

Garrett stepped forward. "Let's pack this freak off to the Fridge where he belongs."

"Agent Garrett, look at me. Do you believe you can confine me any more than this chair?"

"Can somebody please tell me how we turn that stupid voice thing off?" Garrett snarked.

"I will join Raina in your prison, Agent Coulson," Nash started. Skye tensed, her fingers flexing by her sides. "But I will see you wherever you go. Just as I saw you holding Skye in your arms. Bleeding. Dying. Knowing it was all your fault."

Skye let out a shaky breath, and Coulson gripped his gun a little tighter. May inched closer to Skye, gritting her teeth.

Coulson closed the space between him and Nash, fury starting to burn in his chest. "You're going away." His voice shuddered in his throat. "We're gonna stick you in a little box where no one will ever hear you again."

"I see you're angry. Head clouded with lies. You've been betrayed. And now you fear what's about to happen."

"Nothing's about to happen. Just more empty threats from you."

"No. It is the inevitable. A force beyond your comprehension is coming for you. You and Skye. She has something we want. And she will die giving it to us. I have seen it." Nash's monotonous tone rang out eerily. Skye took a step back; Coulson thought he might have felt the ground sway a bit beneath his feet, though he wasn't sure if that was his own nerves or Skye's. The room felt like a pressure bomb, the air filling with the type of dread that made Coulson's lungs feel full of water. But Nash wasn't done. "We will hollow her out until there is nothing left of her - scrape every last bit of humanity out of her until all that is left behind is the perfect mold for our weapon."

May took a step forward, instinctively placing herself in front of Skye. Ward's face twisted into an expression that was practically feral. Coulson tightened his grip on his gun, leaning in closer to Nash, barely able to contain the pit of fury burning in his stomach.

"Go to hell," he spat.

Nash's face was completely blank, his eyes unblinking. "No matter where I go, or what you do to me, I will always-"

A gunshot rang out, and suddenly Nash's heart monitor started beeping. Coulson's eyes widened in horror as the man started to bleed out, flatlining only seconds later. Coulson turned, locking onto Ward, whose brow was knitted as he lowered his gun.

"What did you do?" he breathed.

All eyes were on the specialist, who said nothing, instead remaining fixated on Nash. May rested her hand on Skye's back, her expression completely unreadable as she regarded Ward, before she made her way over to him and held out her hand. Without even looking at her, Ward handed over his gun, his eyes unblinking as he glared at the suspected Clairvoyant.

"He's dead." Garrett turned his attention over towards Nash. "It's over."

As Coulson's gaze settled back on the bleeding man, he had the sickened feeling that this had been too obvious - that something bigger was coming for them. There was no way they were out of the woods yet.

"He's a specialist," Garrett said to Coulson as they stood by the vans, watching as Ward stepped into the back of one, his head bowed. "Cold blood's a basic requirement."

"I know," Coulson responded, still a little dazed. "Still, I didn't think Ward would just do something like that."

"Whole reason I sent him to you was to knock off the rough edges," Garrett explained. "Maybe you did your job too well. He let his emotions get the best of him." He turned his attention back to Ward, who was fixated on an arbitrary spot out the window. "You want me to escort him to the Hub for debrief?"

"No," Coulson said. "I want to talk to him before he goes in front of the review board."

"Understood, I've got my orders then. Gotta stay on the hunt for Deathlok."

Coulson nodded. "Copy that. Keep me in the loop?"

"Will do. Take care." As he stepped away, Garrett added; "And Phil - go easy on the kid."

As he walked away, May approached, tight-lipped. "Just got a message from HQ. Director Fury's back. He's waiting for you at the Triskelion."

"About damn time," Coulson muttered.

Something flickered in May's gaze. "You can talk to him about what's been bothering you." Her voice was almost soft, but her expression was stoic.

"A lot's bothering me," was all Coulson responded with before heading towards the van.

Skye was silent the entire ride back to the plane, her glazed eyes trained blankly out the window.

May pulled the van into the cargo hold of the Bus. Fitz cast a somber look towards Skye's direction, opening his mouth to say something, but then thought better of it, and quietly got out of the car. Coulson stepped out of the passenger side and opened Skye's door, crouching down to her level. "Hey," he said gently.

But Skye didn't respond. It was like she was a ghost, staring right through him but not seeing anything.

"Phil." May's voice broke through the silence, and he turned to meet her gaze. There was something off about her, a strange look in her eye that he couldn't quite place. He'd been denying it, but it was there - it had been for a few days now. She glanced over at Skye, then back at Coulson, and though he knew that it was her way of telling him to leave Skye alone for now, he had the sudden, sickening realization that he couldn't really read her anymore.

The van offered a safe, enclosed space for Skye as she sat staring out the window for hours, her head full of thoughts that ended after a few words, leaving her mind racing but not getting anywhere. Everything was numb, and her chest felt hollow, and her lungs felt like they were full of water.

Everyone had left a while ago. Vaguely she could feel their vibrations all over the plane - Ward in the Cage, Fitz somewhere deep in the plane (which was odd, the only person she'd ever sensed in that space was May, but only occasionally), Coulson in his office, May in the cockpit. But she felt so untethered from reality that their vibrations were weak, just blips in her radar rather than an extension of her consciousness.

There was one nagging thought that echoed through her mind among all the other little fragments, one thing she couldn't quite understand. Somewhere between Garrett- and the Clairvoyant- and hollow you out- and they're coming- and alien, alien, alien- was Ward? Why? Ward? It was enough to latch onto, to ground herself with once more. Ward had been confusing since the start, a chaotic mess of anger masking fear, of layers upon layers shrouding truths. She couldn't read him like she could the others. At surface value it seemed like he hated her, but lately he seemed to be coming around. But what had happened with Nash had completely blindsided all of them, and Skye needed to know why he did it.

"We have a long list of questions we need answers for, and we're going after them ourselves."

Still not fully grounded, Skye gingerly placed her feet back on the ground, slipping out of the van and swaying a little, her head spinning. Counting to ten in her head to try and ground herself again, she honed in on everyone's vibrations, making sure she could feel them like an extension of herself again - she wasn't quite ready to approach anyone else, and was keen on avoiding them until she was. Once she was sure, she headed towards the Cage.

Her own vibrations bounced back on her when she placed her hand on the vibranium door, and she slipped her hand down towards the latch, giving it a small enough push to let her in. The familiar deep blue of the honeycomb walls flooded her vision, and in the corner where her mattress used to be sat Ward at a table.

He sat up, interest sparking in his eyes as he regarded her. "Thought you were Coulson."

She stopped, the empty static starting to fill her mind again, before she squashed it back down, taking a deep breath to keep herself grounded. Her lips pressed together in a tiny smile to greet him, and he gestured to the chair on the other side of the table.

Taking her seat, she traced her finger along the metal surface of the tabletop, taking in the way her vibrations seemed to skitter across the surface like a stone skipping across a lake. Ward raised an eyebrow, looking down at his hands. "That you?" he asked.

She nodded in response. "Sorry." Her voice sounded hollow in her ears, a raspy whisper.

"No it's- you're good."

An awkward silence fell over them, and Skye squirmed uncomfortably. After a beat, she asked softly, "why'd you do it?"

Ward dropped his gaze, studying the space on the table between their hands. "I lost it," he admitted. "I got angry." His eyes flicked back up to hers, and a shiver worked its way down her spine. "He pushed all the right buttons."

Skye gulped. "The mission was to capture, not to kill."

"Think about what the Clairvoyant said. What he's done. Think about the Centipede Program. How he experimented on innocent people like Mike Peterson, how he kidnapped and tortured Coulson, how he ordered Quinn to shoot you. Hell, think about everything you've been through under his thumb." Ward's eyes were misty, and Skye bit the inside of her cheek, unable to look him in the eye. There was something eerily unsettling about knowing that the man she had come face to face with in that basement was the man she had supposedly been serving under this whole time; the man fascinated an obsessed woman in a flower dress, the man that her superior - Agent Garrett, a SHIELD agent - answered to.

"And he wasn't going to stop, Skye. Not until you-" Ward stopped, taking a deep breath to recompose himself before leaning in closer. "Look. I know we didn't start off on the right foot. If I'm being honest… I was furious with you, with the way you killed one of our agents, and with everything I had seen and heard about you. But I think I understand you now. You and I, we aren't that different from each other. We're survivors. You became what you had to be in order to survive." He shook his head and sat back in his chair, his eyes trained on an arbitrary spot in the corner of the room. A knot formed in Skye's stomach, and unconsciously she found herself biting on her knuckle. "I couldn't let anything else happen to you." Ward's voice was barely a whisper. "You've been through enough under the Clairvoyant already."

An uncomfortable silence settled over the two of them before Skye finally dared to break it. "So what comes next?" What will SHIELD do to you?

"I face a SHIELD board," Ward explained softly. "Whatever the punishment, I'll take it." Punishment. Skye looked away, her teeth anxiously working the skin of her knuckle. "I deserve it. But I don't regret what I've done. Not if it means you are safe. You and the rest of the team."

Skye didn't push, and the silence settled over them once more - Ward reached over and rested his hand on hers, and it took every muscle in her to not flinch away. Something about the gesture made the spaces between her fingers itch in the most uncomfortable way, but she didn't pull away.

You and I aren't that different from each other.

Skye wondered how much of it was true.

But more than that, her brain was picking up and working its way through all of her previously fragmented thoughts. Agent Garrett, her superior at Hydra, was a SHIELD agent. He answered to the Clairvoyant, who had been pulling the strings this whole time - Thomas Nash, but that didn't make sense at all, that couldn't be right, there was no way. Had the Clairvoyant known she'd end up at Hydra? Had the Clairvoyant been responsible for her abduction, for her powers, for the experimentation and the torture and training? Was she just a pawn for him this whole time? And now that he was gone, was she free now? She certainly didn't feel like it - in fact, there was a pit of dread forming in her stomach and the eerie, nagging feeling tugging at her mind that she was in more danger than ever before.

And what about Ward's punishment? If Garrett was both a Hydra superior and a SHIELD agent, then Hydra and SHIELD were either not that different after all, or the same organization, so it was safe to deduct that whatever punishment Ward would face, it would be brutal and calculated, it would be messy and traumatizing.

And what did that mean for her? She'd been nothing but disobedient on this plane, speaking out of turn, roaming around freely, eating when she hadn't earned it. Was Coulson biding his time to release all of his anger on her at once?

But Coulson was a good man, he was, he was. What if Hydra and SHIELD weren't the same? Then what was Garrett doing here? Did Coulson know? What would happen when Coulson found out that she worked for Hydra? And when he found out that she knew Garrett was hiding within SHIELD?

Would she be a traitor?

And suddenly, it dawned on her - a thought that had been perplexing her this whole time suddenly clicking into place.

Her entire time on the plane, Ward had a sense of familiarity - like someone she'd known before. Something about him stirred deep memories locked away, like he was a ghost of her past, an apparition haunting her present.

Agent Garrett was a SHIELD agent as well as her Hydra superior.

Agent Garrett was also Ward's S.O.

And it was safe to say, SHIELD was a ticking time bomb.