A/N: I've never updated this story so quickly, but I'm so much in love with it that it seems silly not to.
And also?
I kinda want to hear your theories on all of the things I present here, and I kinda want to watch your heads explode.
(Yeah, you love me.)
Thanks to everyone who reads/reviews/follows/favorites! You're awesome!
Enjoy! And bonus points to everyone who finds the AoS references in this chapter!
Wait here, Bobbi said. I'll open my study carrel and we can stick our jackets in there.
The perks of having a vet-med student on our side, Trip said, nodding.
I'm not vet-med. I'm animal pathophysiology.
I don't even understand that sign, Skye said.
Me neither, Trip agreed.
It doesn't matter, Bobbi said. She led them down a long hallway lined liberally with doors. At the far end she unlocked one of those doors. The room behind it was tiny, big enough for a desk and a chair and a small window.
Next to Skye, Hunter said something.
She looked at Trip. Interpret, please.
He said, "Is there where you're always running off to when I want to talk about relationship issues?"
Skye laughed.
They dumped their coats on the desk. Skye turned to her friends. I brought some things I thought might help us.
She opened her backpack and pulled out four oranges, which she handed to Trip.
I admit, I love my citrus fruit as much as anyone else, but I feel like this is the wrong time for a juice break, the tall man informed her.
Well, then, good. They're not for juice. They're weapons.
What?
I don't want to get caught with some sort of "real" weapon and end up in prison, but I don't want us to be completely defenseless. You made the mistake of telling me that you play intramural softball, so, there's your weapons. Also, they don't bruise as easily as softballs. Also, I don't own any softballs, but Jemma hoards fruit for some reason.
Trip looked a bit stunned at that. Eventually he signed, Okay. I guess all of that makes sense… in some way.
Skye then turned to Bobbi. I wasn't sure how to combine your relative skill at Zumba with your running. So I got you this.
She handed Bobbi a slingshot and a bag of walnuts.
A walnut to the vagus nerve drops someone like a bag of potatoes, she informed the blond.
Do I want to know how you know that?
Skye shook her head. Just don't miss.
At last she turned to Hunter, and sighed. Bobbi, please tell your chimney sweep that I have something for him that's basically crushing my soul to use, but all I care about is Jemma.
She watched as Bobbi spoke to Hunter. He turned towards Skye.
Jemma's Fitz made me these, Skye went on, pulling the silver box out of her backpack. They allow someone who doesn't sign to understand signing.
Hunter said something to Bobbi. Bobbi shook her head and said something in reply. Hunter gave her an eye-roll. At last Bobbi signed, He doesn't understand why you don't wear them all the time. I told him this really isn't the time to go into that.
Thank you, Skye signed. She handed Hunter the transceiver and wiggled the gloves onto her fingers, then clicked closed the latches around the wrists that allowed the sensors to turn on. Now you can "hear" me too.
Hunter looked down at the box and back up at Skye. He said something, obviously expecting the system to work both ways.
Bobbi signed, He said, "Everyone else gets a weapon and I get this?"
I didn't want to give him a weapon, Skye said.
No, that's a good idea, Bobbi said, but please tell me there's something else in there for him.
Skye looked into her pack. I have two cans of Silly String and an air horn.
Hunter stepped in front of the two women, waving his arms and speaking, obviously loudly from Skye's ability to hear the vibrations in her chest.
Bobbi shoved his arms down. He's mad because he can see what you're saying now.
Yeah, well, then he should have convinced me of his mad skills before we got involved in a combat situation.
Hunter looked down at the transceiver, read the message, and his mouth gaped open. He turned to Bobbi, then Trip, and then once he realized he wasn't going to get any assistance in asserting his abilities, he sighed and looked at Skye. He held out his hands.
Skye gave him a smile and handed him the Silly String and the air horn. That's more like it.
"Why would Skye lie to me about her parents?" Jemma asked.
"I don't think she knows," Ward said, his voice low as though he was afraid that Garrett would overhear him demonstrating even the tiniest bit of kindness.
"Then why does Garrett want to seek revenge through her? If she doesn't know what they did, or what he claims they did, then she's completely innocent in all this!"
"She's the only one left."
Jemma furrowed her brow. "No. She has a sister – Summer."
Ward's head drooped further. "Garrett says they're not related."
"Impossible. This is all impossible," Jemma said. "And even if they're not related, Summer has taken care of Skye her entire life! They are family whether Garrett sees it or not!"
She was getting angry and she wished she could stand up and take a swing at Ward. Her upper body had recovered from whatever knock-out drug had been in the bag they'd put over her head, enabling her to sit upright and hold her head up and not drool on herself and use her arms, but her lower body hadn't recovered much beyond allowing her to cross her legs. She'd have to give him a punch later, when she was out of the box. Maybe a kick in the man-parts.
"So now we've established that Skye is not guilty of her parents' crimes and that no matter how her family was put together, it is her family," Jemma said, trying hard to keep the seething rage out of her voice. "Which basically negates all of Garrett's ideals for starting this campaign of stupidity. Now, my next question is, when are you going to let me out of this box?"
"I can't," Ward said.
"Are you still afraid of Garrett?"
"It's not Garrett," Ward said. "I don't have the keys. Or the combination."
"So we're literally going to stare at each other through the clear box until Garrett comes back, and then what?"
Ward shook his head. "I don't know."
Jemma sighed. "Do you have any proof of these radical things you're trying to sell me?"
Ward bit his lip. At long last he moved a few steps away from Jemma's enclosure and over to a plastic crate on the floor. As though it physically pained him to do so, he removed the lid and took out some pieces of paper. His fingers curled around the edges; the pages seemed to weigh a hundred pounds. With slow, hesitant steps he walked back towards Jemma.
"Remember, you asked for this," he said, and he took the top sheet of paper and pressed it against the glass wall of the box.
Jemma didn't want to, but her eyes were drawn to the headline – Car Crash Raises Questions – and once she'd read that, she couldn't stop.
"Now, was this before or after he fought the rabbi in the dive bar in Schenectady?" Maria asked.
"Before."
"So, also before he won the ballroom dancing contest with the elderly woman who fell in love with him when he was doing community service at the senior center?"
"Da."
"Then how was he wearing the gold medal from the ballroom dancing contest when he made pancakes at the children's hospital?"
"Perhaps was another gold medal? He has so very many."
"Wanda, is there something you're not telling us?"
"Except for time when Pietro accidentally entered doughnut eating contest?"
At last Wanda's shifty eyes settled on Phil's face.
"Please tell us what's going on," he said. "As much fun as I'm having hearing about things I will definitely be able to tease Pietro about later, I'm pretty sure there's something else going on."
Wanda looked down at her hands. "Is Skye," she said.
"You said Skye was sleeping."
"Was," Wanda agreed, nodding.
Melinda turned her head towards Wanda, showing interest in the conversation for the first time. "Was?"
"Is no longer."
"What's she doing in there, her makeup?" Maria asked.
Wanda bit her lip.
"Wanda," Melinda said.
Andrew leaned forward. "Is Skye in trouble?"
"No," Wanda said. "At least, was not when she left."
"Left?" Melinda's voice went up another few decibels.
Wanda twisted her right hand around her left wrist.
Phil reached over and took her hand. "Wanda, no one's upset," he said, making sure to keep his voice modulated and careful. "We're very concerned about Skye and we just want what's best for her."
"Ya tozhe," Wanda said, nodding. Her eyes were filling with tears.
"Can you tell us where she went?"
"For to find… for to find Jemma," Wanda got out, her voice choked with sobs.
"And where did she go to find Jemma?" Phil asked.
"Back to the dorm at first," Wanda said. "And from there…"
She waved her hand in the air.
Phil looked over at Melinda. Melinda's hand was clenching tighter and tighter around her coffee mug.
"Mel?" Maria's voice was gentle.
"Call Natasha," Melinda grit out. "Now."
Jemma shoved herself away from the side of the box, trying to get as far away as she could. She wasn't sure who she was trying to escape from, Ward or the newspaper articles he was still holding. It didn't matter. She was still in the box, still unable to go anywhere, still unable to process all the thoughts that had flooded her head from the first few sentences of the first article.
"You asked," Ward said. He sounded less sullen and more despondent.
"Why doesn't… why doesn't she know about this?"
"They didn't want her to know," Ward answered.
"And if Skye's parents are the reason Garrett's brother is in jail, why doesn't he just take the evidence to the authorities and let them sort it out?"
"He tried that," Ward said. "They responded by transferring his brother to another jail."
Jemma shook her head. "There has to be another way to help Garrett's brother. A way that doesn't destroy Skye's life in the process."
"Her parents destroyed Garrett's brother's life," Ward snapped, his head jerking up, his eyes flashing. "Why should she get off so easily?"
"She was a child! And she didn't know!" Jemma protested. "And in case you missed it, they ruined her chance at a normal life too!"
She put her head in her hands. She didn't want to cry in front of Skye's bully. Of their bully.
The tunnel was silent for a few beats. Finally Ward spoke. "I'm sorry," he said. "None of this is your fault."
"None of this is Skye's fault either," Jemma said, keeping her head down.
"No," Ward said quietly. "But sometimes the people who suffer are the ones who aren't at fault."
Jemma raised her head. She had an inkling that Ward wasn't talking only about Skye, and the way she felt about him based on that inkling confused her. "Could I have a drink of water?" she asked.
Ward nodded. From the same box that had held the newspaper articles, he retrieved a bottle of water. There was a small opening at the bottom of the box's wall, and he pushed the bottle through it.
Jemma crawled forward to retrieve the bottle and took a long drink. The water was cold and it tasted amazing.
When she finished she looked up at Ward. "We can change this," she said.
"No," Ward said. He'd turned away from her, as though he couldn't even bear to look at her, to admit he was participating in the calamity going on around him.
"We can," Jemma stressed. "All you have to do is stand up to Garrett and help me get out of here."
"I don't have the keys!" Ward's voice shook.
"That's okay," Jemma said, trying to stand calm. "You don't have to have the whole answer. We can work together to figure it out."
Ward's shoulders hunched forward.
"You don't have to be defined by this one event," Jemma went on. "You can be defined by everything you do from this moment on."
At this he turned back towards her. "We're all defined by one event," he said spitefully, his eyes empty. "It's just that we always think it's something magnificent, and everyone else knows it's the one where we're cowering in the corner, too scared to fight back."
When this is all over, I'm going to take up running. Or, really, any exercise, Skye promised herself as she struggled to keep up with Bobbi and Trip. She and Hunter were basically matched in terms of physical skills, but since she thought his exercising mostly consisted of lifting beers to his mouth, the fact that she couldn't run faster than an overgrown manchild irked her just a bit.
The tunnels were complex and twisty, more complicated than Skye had thought before they'd descended underground. It didn't deter her from wanting to go further, but it frustrated her that things were taking so long. She only wanted to get to Jemma.
Jemma, I'm so sorry.
Skye was so caught up in her thoughts that she nearly failed to see Bobbi raise her hand in an obvious "stop" signal. She skidded on the concrete floor, digging her heels in.
Just before she would crash into Bobbi, Hunter reached out and grabbed her by the elbow.
She turned to him. Thank you.
He nodded.
We're approaching the main junction, Bobbi signed. We have to pick a way to go – towards the print shop or up towards the greenhouses.
Hunter looked at Skye, for the first time dependent on her to understand the conversation.
Pick a way, she signed. Print shop that way. Greenhouse this way.
Hunter thought about the choices.
Bobbi and Trip exchanged a glance as Hunter considered the options. Skye kept her eyes on Bobbi's boyfriend, though; she had a feeling he was making connections in his head, something people (including, apparently, Skye) often overlooked.
At last he brought his hand up and very carefully formed his hand into a shape.
Skye smiled as she recognized what he was doing.
G.
Hunter was recommending they head for the greenhouses, and he'd used sign language to do it.
When this is all over, I'm going to take up running. And hug Hunter, Skye resolved.
And then they were moving towards the greenhouses, and all Skye could do was squeeze his hand before she started running again.
Translation:
Ya tozhe - me too (phonetic Russian)