A/N: Thank you to all the readers and reviewers! I love getting your messages and the automated emails whenever someone favorites or follows me or the story. So flattering!

There's more to come soon and I almost wrote it on this document but I realized it was almost 4000 words and I didn't want to bog it down. Enjoy!

Also, in a side note: this season of MAoS is giving me feelings on top of feelings and I have no idea which end is up most days. Hopefully you're loving it just as much.

The next day passed in the same kind of blur. Jemma wandered around the hospital somewhat, but mostly stayed close to Skye. She studied on the little couch near the window, poring over her Jane Austen books and writing up her lab reports. For an hour or so she went over her sign language assignments in preparation for Professor May's visit.

At lunch time she walked down to the cafeteria and had a surprisingly good piece of pizza and a small root beer. She was an unabashed people watcher, and the cafeteria was a great place for it. There were harried-looking doctors with large cups of coffee and surgeons still with their scrub caps and shoe covers standing in line for brownies. In the far reaches of the cafeteria, twos and threes gathered. Some looked relieved, sharing a good prognosis or positive test results. Others gathered together in groups with worried faces and hunched shoulders, those who had obviously not received the answers they were searching for.

Jemma wondered how she looked to them, with her – well, what was Skye? Her best friend? No, that was Fitz. Girlfriend? They didn't have that kind of relationship. Not that, not yet. Maybe someday. – with her… Skye upstairs in the ICU, breathing on a machine, awaiting the results of a 48-hour sedated EEG. And then a 24-hour awake EEG, which excited Jemma a bit. She hadn't gone to many sleepovers as a child, and certainly she'd never been to a sleepover with someone she liked as much as Skye. So they had to be up for 24 hours. It would be fun.

So there was hope. Jemma wanted that to be on her face. She finished her root beer and headed back upstairs.

Beth the nurse was back on the day shift, and she smiled at Jemma. "We're going to turn down her sedation here," she said. "She'll start coming around here in a couple of hours, but she might be confused and anxious. Do you feel comfortable being here when that occurs?"

Jemma nodded. "Yes. Yes, of course."

Beth patted her hand. "It's all right, my dear. It'll take a few hours, we'll do it real gradual so that she's not in any pain or discomfort. The good news is, we're not seeing any seizures under sedation, so it's entirely probable that it's not her brain causing the seizures. We also received information from the pharmacy about the medication she was given incorrectly, and after we bring her out of sedation, we'll be able to counteract those effects."

She brushed a few fly-away hairs behind her ears. "This is all good news, Jemma. The prognosis is very positive – the seizures appear to have been caused by the medications Skye was given. It's a sad occurrence, but the truth is, sometimes it happens. Pharmacists are in short shrift these days and the temp agencies aren't always reliable."

Jemma nodded. "So she'll be okay?"

"She's strong and she's got great support," Beth said. "Those patients are the ones who do the best."

She looked up and down the hallway. "And you didn't hear it from me, but Skye's sister… she could have a very good case for a lawsuit against that pharmacy."

A call light went off and Beth looked up. "Blinded by the light. I'll talk to you later, sweetie."

Jemma went back into Skye's room and sat down next to the bed. She picked up Skye's hand and began to spell into her hand. "I'm here. I'll be here. Professor May is coming by to work on my sign language, so I can get better at talking to you. And they tell me you'll wake up here soon, so we can sign together."

Jemma hesitated. "I love you," she whispered, tapping the sign for that into Skye's palm.

The afternoon wiled away in the hospital room. Beth came in and out, turning down Skye's sedation, and every hour or so Jemma thought she could see changes in Skye's demeanor – little twitches and mouth movements, a furrowed brow, finger wiggles. Jemma kept the TV tuned to the Food Network and watched it out of the corner of her eyes as she continued to study, holding Skye's hand with her left and signing her conversation pieces with her right hand.

At four o'clock Professor May entered the room, carrying her briefcase and a box from Harry's Donut Shoppe, a famous campus institution with a wide variety of pastries and confections. The professor gave Jemma a small smile. "It's good to see you," she said.

"Hello, Professor," Jemma replied.

"I didn't know what you'd like, so I brought a variety," Professor May said. "And there will be some for Skye when she wakes up."

The professor put the box on the bedside table and moved to Skye's side. "Hello, Skye," she said, spelling the words into the girl's hand. "It's Professor May. I look forward to seeing you soon."

For an hour or so, Jemma and the professor went over the conversations in the sign language textbook. Then Professor May had an interesting request. "I want us to have a conversation entirely in sign."

"We just… had a conversation…" Jemma was confused.

"Not a scripted one," Professor May said with a smile. "I want to talk to you about… whatever you'd like to talk about. Use all of your sign, if possible. Tell me anything."

Jemma looked at the professor, and returned the smile. "That's very… spontaneous of you."

"Once in a blue moon," Professor May said. "Now, no voices."

She reached up and signed voices off in the same way Skye always did – as though she was turning a key in a lock on her throat.

Did you talk to Skye's sister? Professor May asked.

Yes, Jemma replied. She is happy Skye has no more…

She couldn't remember the sign for "seizures," so she had to fingerspell it.

Professor May nodded, and showed her the sign. Seizures.

Seizures, Jemma repeated. Skye had seizures last night, but all gone now.

What kind of movies do you like? Professor May asked.

Jemma thought about this, trying to figure out if the signs she knew could cover her taste in movies. Funny, she signed after a moment. She and Fitz loved Monty Python films – how very stereotypically British, she knew – and a whole slew of other comedies. But she also liked period pieces and serious dramas, and once in a while Fitz could convince her to watch a horror movie. Funny movies.

I like musicals, Professor May signed, and she waited while Jemma tried to figure that sign out from context.

Musicals, Jemma signed, repeating the word she hadn't known, and copied the sign for "music," hoping that was the right derivation.

Professor May nodded.

My friend Fitz likes scary movies, Jemma signed.

You?

Sometimes.

There was a noise from the bed, and both women turned. Skye turned her head, her brow furrowed, and she reached up for the breathing tube. Jemma stood and reached over, gently taking Skye's hand away from the tube.

Soon, she spelled into Skye's hand. She wasn't sure if it made anything better, but Skye's frantic movements stilled.

Jemma turned back to see that Professor May was looking at her with soft, considerate eyes. What? she signed.

The professor gave her a smile. First, you responded to Skye in sign, and you didn't use your voice even when you turned around to talk to me. That's real strength, Jemma.

Jemma bowed her head. She hadn't even thought about it – hadn't considered that she should stop using sign. You said "no voices," she signed to the professor.

I did, Professor May agreed.

What's second? Jemma asked.

Second, you care for Skye very much, Professor May said. That is very beautiful, Jemma. You have a kind heart.

Jemma smiled.

There was a knock at the door and Mr. Coulson stuck his head in. "Hello, you beautiful girls. You too, Melinda."

The professor shook her head at Mr. Coulson, but there was obvious affection in it.

Hi, Mr. Coulson, Jemma signed brightly. We're having "no voices" time.

I brought dinner, Mr. Coulson signed. Not Chinese food.

Chinese, Jemma repeated. That was a new sign for her.

There was another flurry of movement from the bed. Skye's legs jerked in towards her body and her head lolled back. Jemma bolted back to Skye's side. "It's okay," she murmured, spelling into Skye's hand. "Shh, it's okay."

"I'll get the nurse," Professor May said.

Jemma looked over at Mr. Coulson. "She's upset," she said. "They said the sedation wouldn't put her in any discomfort, but it's clear that's not the case."

"They'll figure it out," Mr. Coulson said. "They're doing a great job with her, and so are you, Jemma."

Beth reappeared. "The sedation is wearing off, and that's positive," she said. "I'll give her a bit of anti-anxiety medication to see if we can smooth the process. We want to keep her heart rate and her saturations in the right range, or we could be triggering seizures. I'll be right back."

Jemma sat on the edge of Skye's bed and held Skye's hand. Worry was bringing her own heart rate up, and she needed to feel close to Skye. Needed something to ground her.

When Beth returned she had a respiratory therapist with her. While Beth injected medication into Skye's IV, the respiratory therapist checked the readouts on the ventilator. "She's triggering her own breaths," he said. "I see no reason we shouldn't pull the tube, put her on blow-by until her sats stay up, and if necessary give her bipap."

"You're going to take her off the ventilator?" Jemma was surprised. "But she's still so… sedated."

"The sedation's being turned off," Beth said. "She's going to be more and more aware, and we don't want her to rip the tube out in a fit of anxiety. That could cause damage to her throat. If we extubate her now we'll be able to monitor her, protect her airway."

Jemma looked over at Mr. Coulson. "You know more about this than I do, Jemma," the interpreter said, looking at Professor May for support. "If they think this is the right decision, I say we give it a try."

Jemma looked back at Beth and the respiratory therapist. "Okay," she said.

"We'll give her a few minutes to let the Ativan kick in," Beth said, "and then we'll prepare to pull the tube. Randy just needs a few minutes to get the oxygen set-up and the bipap ready."

The medical personnel left and Jemma squeezed Skye's hand. She was unsurprised to see that Skye's eyes were opening, blinking and then focusing.

Mr. Coulson moved into Skye's line of sight. They're going to take the breathing tube out, he signed. You might be feeling a little groggy, but they want to do it while you're still flexible and calm.

Skye brought up the hand that wasn't in Jemma's. O… K, she signed slowly. J-e-m-m-a?

Here, Jemma spelled into her hand.

Skye turned her head as much as she could, and a slow smile moved her lips clumsily. Hi beautiful, she signed with her free hand.

Beth and the respiratory therapist returned and Mr. Coulson translated Beth's instructions as she spoke. We're going to take the breathing tube out. When we ask you to, I want you to take a deep breath in and hold it. Then we'll pull the tube. It will make you cough. That's normal. We'll give you oxygen to help you breathe and if you need it, we'll give you further breathing support.

I'll hold your hand, Jemma added.

Beth prepped the oxygen tubing and stood before Skye. The nurse carefully removed the tape and the fastenings holding the tube to Skye's face. "Let her know… we're ready. I'll show her my fingers and count down. On one she needs to breathe in, hold it, and we'll pull the tube."

"One," Jemma counted in her head.

"Two," Beth said.

"Three," Mr. Coulson said, signing the number as he said it.

Skye pulled in a breath, squeezing Jemma's hand. The respiratory therapist reached in and pulled the tube.

Skye felt like the whole world was collapsing in on her throat and her chest, and she squeezed Jemma's hand like it was her anchor in an angry ocean. She coughed and coughed, her throat raw, tears streaming from her eyes.

Then a plastic mask made its way over her face and she could breathe again, could feel her ribcage expanding in perfect synchronicity. She was able to relax, and let go of Jemma's hand.

To Skye's surprise, Jemma grabbed her hand back and kissed it. I missed you, Jemma signed when she was sure Skye was looking at her.

I missed you too, Skye signed. But I knew you were here.

How? Jemma asked.

Skye smiled. It was just a thought, maybe nothing more than a dream or some sort of hallucination, but she clearly recognized the feeling. You told me everything, she signed. In my hand.

Jemma looked over at Mr. Coulson and Professor May, then back at Skye. You remembered that?

How could I not? You, and Trip, and Professor May…

You knew it was Trip?

Who else calls me "girl"? Skye grinned. She leaned forward and hugged Jemma. Thank you.

In response, Jemma brought her hand up and set it in Skye's palm, tapping one sign. I love you.

For the next hour or so, the professor, the interpreter, and their two students ate pizza and drank iced tea. Mr. Coulson and Professor May shared smiles and Jemma basked in Skye's awake presence. The use of both sign language and voice kept everyone in the conversation. They kept the Food Network on, until Mr. Coulson insisted they turn the channel to "Jeopardy."

"I always win," he said, a cocky grin on his face.

"Except when the two of us watch together," Professor May interjected.

"We haven't done that in quite a while," Mr. Coulson said.

The game show kept the group interested. Mr. Coulson called out answers – "The Poconos! FDR! T.S. Eliot! 30 Rock! George Clooney!"

Professor May took a more reserved tack, signing and speaking her answers. She gave Mr. Coulson a wide smile whenever she beat him to an answer. Jemma filled in the blanks in the science, math, and physics questions, since those were the ones Mr. Coulson and Professor May tended to miss, but she knew the majority of the answers. On the bed next to her, Skye's eyes were bright as she spelled answers into Jemma's hand.

When "Jeopardy" was over, Mr. Coulson turned to look at the two girls. "I brought you something," he said, using both methods of communication. "I know you're going to be up for 24 hours, starting in an hour or so here, so I've got a big bag of things to keep you occupied."

He handed them a large IKEA tote bag, and started pulling things out as though he was some sort of suit-and-tie Santa Claus. "We've got classic movies – Singin' in the Rain and Mary Poppins – some board games, a friendship bracelet kit, playing cards, Play-Doh…"

"Play-Doh?" Jemma asked.

Mr. Coulson tossed her a can. "It's lots of fun for everyone," he said. "And also, it was on sale."

"Is that glitter glue?" Jemma asked, seeing the next thing he was going to pull out of the bag.

"Glitter glue, crayons, and several coloring books," Mr. Coulson confirmed. "There's another bag in the hall with snacks and drinks."

You're the best, Skye signed to Mr. Coulson.

"I just want you two to have fun," Mr. Coulson said.

Skye hopped up from the bed, tugged the oxygen mask off, and gave Mr. Coulson a hug. Thank you, she signed.

"And there's a wifi connection here, so you can call your sister," Professor May said, using sign and her voice.

Good idea, Skye said.

At nine o'clock Mr. Coulson was still in the room, waiting for the nurse to return and give Skye instructions for the 24-hour EEG. Skye and Jemma were cross-legged on the bed, the table between them, playing Yahtzee.

You look funny, Jemma signed as she shook the dice. She indicated the braid of wires and the gauze wrapping them to Skye's head. Beautiful, but funny.

What a nice compliment.

Jemma spilled the dice onto the table and counted up the little black dots. Full house, she signed, and Skye laughed.

You have a straight, Skye corrected.

Beth came in with the night shift nurse, and introduced her as Andie. "You girls ready for this?"

Mr. Coulson interpreted, and Skye nodded. I have some questions, she signed.

"Sure. Of course," Beth said.

Can I get out of bed during this thing?

"Yes. We'll give you a portable monitor control box, and you can go anywhere you want – even outside, for brief periods of time."

And there's no sleeping at all?

Beth shook her head. "None. We are trying to stress your system to see if that's what triggered your seizures."

What happens if I do have a seizure?

"The monitor will record it, and we'll still continue the test. There will be plenty of medical professionals around if anything goes seriously out of control," Beth said. "At this point we're almost positive that the increase in seizures was caused by the mix-up in medications, but this is still our planned course of evaluation. The detox medication will be added here in about an hour, to flush the remainder of the incorrect meds out of your system."

Skye nodded.

Any other questions? Mr. Coulson asked.

Skye shook her head. Oh, wait! Visitors.

"Visitors are allowed," Beth said.

"I'm going to stay," Jemma said, signing for Skye's benefit.

"And anyone else you'd like can be in here," Beth said. "Just try to keep the party noises down to a minimum, ladies – this is the intensive care unit."

She grinned at Jemma and Skye. "If that's all, we'll start the test at nine-thirty."

The nurses switched Skye over to a portable monitor, unhooked her IV line from the drip, and left. Mr. Coulson gave his best wishes to both girls and promised he'd be back in the morning.

When they were alone, Jemma looked at Skye, trying to keep a huge smile from crossing her face. Skye was alert, awake, and they were going to spend 24 hours together. It was an amazing prospect, though Jemma knew that they'd both be exhausted by the end of it.

I want a promise from you, Skye signed, a sly smile crossing her face.

Anything, Jemma said.

I want to go on a date.

Okay. Where?

That part doesn't matter, Skye signed. I want something else, though. The date's just the first thing.

You are greedy, Jemma signed, enjoying the fact that she had recently learned emotions and feelings.

On the date I don't want you to talk, Skye signed, and she brought her hand up to her throat and signed voices off the same way Professor May had earlier, as though she was locking her voice up.

Really?

Really. Think you can handle that? Skye's smile was gently teasing.

If I can't, we'll find out, Jemma replied.

You're doing an amazing job learning sign, Skye said, and she squeezed Jemma's hand, then kissed it.

Suddenly Jemma remembered Fitz's present, and she leapt up from the bed to grab the bright, shiny box from the corner cupboard. Her hands fumbled as she tried to get the gloves out of the container, and Skye snapped up the instruction manual while she was recovering.

When Jemma looked back at Skye, the gloves safely in the box, the deaf girl had a strange look on her face. What's this?

My friend Fitz made it, Jemma said. They can help us communicate! You sign, I read it here.

She showed Skye the wireless transceiver, but there was no change in Skye's expression.

What is it? Jemma asked. What's wrong?

Why do you think I need this?

It's for me, Jemma answered.

You don't need it, Skye signed fiercely. You can sign!

I know, but I don't know it all! I feel bad I can't talk to you the way you talk to me.

I don't care about that, Skye signed. I don't want a machine. I want you.

She looked close to tears, and Jemma asked again, What's wrong?

Skye shook her head, and Jemma reached over to her backpack and took out a notebook and a pen, which she handed to Skye. Skye sighed and took a moment to write her message:

I don't want to be a robot. I don't want a machine to fix me, because I'm not broken. I don't need a cochlear implant in my brain to help me hear and I don't need this. I get my message across just fine. I don't need gloves, or anything else, to make me less deaf. I don't want to be hooked up to anything, and if you can't understand why then I don't want to talk to you.

Jemma read the message and then looked up at Skye. Under the gauze wound around her head, Skye was biting her lip and trying very hard not to cry.

"Oh, Skye," Jemma breathed. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I thought this would help us communicate better. And that's my problem, not yours. I'm stupid. I'm slow.

No, Skye signed. Not stupid. Not slow. You're mine. You're Jemma.

We don't have to use the gloves, Jemma signed. I just wanted to be… e-n-o-u-g-h for you.

Enough, Skye signed. You are enough. Am I enough?

Oh, yes. Yes. You're incredible. Beautiful, smart, amazing Skye who I love.

Jemma put the gloves back in the box and closed it. She was about to stand to return it to the cabinet when Skye put her hand out. Wait.

What?

Your friend Fitz, it was very nice that he made these. His heart is clearly in the right place. He cares about you very much.

And he cares about you, Jemma signed. That's why he made them.

I appreciate it, but I like us the way we are, Skye replied. Now, put those away and we'll party.