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Chapter Three
Learn to Walk Before You Can Run

"Good morning, Agent Skye."

The voice was non-decrepit. Alien. Alien as in unfamiliar, for once.

Skye's eyes weren't even open yet. Everything hurt. She was with someone she didn't know. Her sleep-dazed mind was just finally registering the symphony of beeps and otherwise stagnant silence that made up a med room.

She did, eventually, manage to open her eyes.

Skye knew this doctor. Or she should have. She was one of those in charge at the base.

"Doesn't feel too good," mumbled Skye as she shifted, testing her body. It felt achy and bruised and stiff.

The red-haired woman smiled. "That's not surprising. Do you recall what happened?"

Skye nodded. She remembered. Ward, pain, screams. Ward, pain, screams. Ward, pain, begging...

Broken.

The girl tentatively lifted her fingers to her neck, feeling the bandaged burn.

"You should try to not touch that," the doctor told her quickly.

Skye dropped her hand. Sulkily. It was her burn. Her mark. Why did this lady get to tell her what to do?

"So what happened?" Skye asked. "Is everyone ok? What'd they do with Ward?"

"Everyone's fine," the woman told her gently. "Including you. You sustained some fairly major injuries, but all of them will heal in time. Other than some scarring from the burns."

Good news as that was, that didn't give Skye incredibly clear answers to her questions.

"We got the BUS back though? No one's hurt?"

The woman nodded. "All injuries were merely surface level, and Agent Hunter was able to execute a rescue with minimal kills."

"And Ward?" Skye asked, feeling she had more stock in the question than she perhaps should have. "I'm guessing they got him to the senator."

"The prisoner? Actually, I believe he's back in our vault. Though you'll have to ask someone else about the specifics."

Skye felt more relief at the answer than she thought she would've. He was here. She wasn't sure why it mattered, but it did.

She then felt the urge to ask the woman to bring her someone who could give her specifics, but allowed her well-being to come first. She was curious, after all.

"So what's the tally?" asked Skye. "Of injuries."

The doctor picked up a clipboard.

"Well, based on your blood samples it seems that the injections had no lasting effects, so that's good. You have two third-degree burns along with two second-degree ones. The one on your neck is definitely the largest, though luckily it was one of the second degree ones."

The woman took a moment to flip through her chart, and Skye took the moment to reflect that she deemed nothing about her situation lucky.

If the doctor had taken two moments, Skye may have realized she'd been incredibly lucky, as she was alive, with no lasting damage and no one else had gotten severely hurt.

But that clarity would come later.

"And you'll have to stay off the leg," continued the woman. "We were able to repair the muscle and nerve damage so barring any unforeseen complications, it should heal smoothly."

Skye nodded. "When can I get back in the field?"

"You'll need to give yourself a few weeks at least before you go back to training. We'll gauge your progress after that."

"Weeks before training? No. That's not good enough. I need to be back there sooner."

The doctor put the clipboard back into place and smiled, merely pacifying her.

"We'll see."

The team came to see her, one by one or sometimes two by two. The old members and the new.

Simmons had been over-protective. She checked everything the doctors already had under control. Or over control, as they were there far too often for Skye's taste.

Mack, surprisingly, came next. He brought her chocolate. She liked Mack. She didn't know him very well, but she liked him; especially with how he'd managed to help Fitz. Better than she ever could over those past months. Fitz had come with the mechanic. He was mainly silent, but managed to get out a "glad you're ok" after only one or two attempts.

May came. Told Skye they could work on non-stressful training techniques while she recovered. That was hopeful.

Hunter, Morse, Triplett… they all came to her little cot in the med bay. People she didn't know very well. It was unprecedented.

It was undeserved.

She wasn't sure if it had been a conscious effort or not, but Coulson came last. He gave her reassuring words; told her how proud he was of her. It reminded her of how close the two of them had been before the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. Or how Coulson had embraced her the night they'd found her father, the Director acting more like a father to her in his own right.

Lies. False praise. She didn't deserve any of that.

She'd broken.

But she realized he didn't know that. Because of Ward. Because he'd protected S.H.I.E.L.D.'s secrets better than she could.

She should be the one in that vault.

So Skye prepared to tell him everything. Tears welled in her eyes just at the thought, so she knew she'd cry. Probably be a complete mess when professing her weakness and failure, only proving her point further.

When they had come to pluck Skye from the crop of captured agents, May had unveiled herself to be more than just a pilot. She had two soldiers down before they knocked her out. Coulson had broken ribs. Wasted attempts to keep the girl that was too weak to be an agent from pain.

She could have told him. She should have.

But she didn't.

She kept it hidden like the scar on her neck, because Ward was the only one who had the information and, somehow, she knew he wouldn't tell. He wouldn't give her up. He might have been Hydra, but right now, she knew he was better than her. Maybe she could be considered Hydra herself, after begging Ward to give them all of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s secrets he knew.

Yes, Skye had many visitors. But the only one she deserved was the Hydra man living in their basement.

And she had yet to see him.

The crutches were hard at first.

The burn on her hand was the main culprit of the difficulty, but Skye managed. She had been the one insisting they give them to her. They tried to make her stay in bed, but she wouldn't stay in that cot. Couldn't. She had to still be a part of the team. And she was. Strictly hacker duties, though.

Exactly what you would be doing with Hydra. That thought popped into her head a lot, whether she liked it or not.

It had been four days.

She still hadn't seen Ward.

May went undercover and Skye covered comms. It was a simple mission really, almost busy work while they tried to find a lead to her father that didn't stop at a dead end, but it burned up her insides to watch the seasoned agent out there. Not because she was bad, of course not. May was renowned. But because it could have been Skye. It should have been Skye. May hated undercover.

"Just give yourself time," Bobbi had told her. "Everyone gets benched when they're hurt. You'll be back out there soon enough."

Yeah. No Hydra agent would question the blaring red flag on her neck.

But Skye'd nodded. Smiled.

Grin and bear it.

On day sixteen she fell.

It was stupid. She was long used to the crutches by now, she just needed to take the stairs to see Ward. It had already taken too long. She should have talked to him by now, but she didn't want anyone to know about it. Even if she wasn't sure why.

She gave herself a quick once over as she lay at the bottom of the steps. Nothing broken, nothing shattered, no pain. She was fine.

No, wait, no. Something was missing.

Her neck was bare.

Well, only from a covering.

She frantically glanced around the vacant hall, looking for her tiny mask that hid her shame. It didn't matter if the team saw her fall down. But if they knew that was there, on her…

She picked up the stretchy white bandage quickly when she spotted it. Smoothed it back into place. Breathing heavy from the panic, she sat back. Looked around. Waited for consequences and stares and repercussions to what had just transpired.

But no one was there.

The girl sat idly on the ground, blinking, staring. She could take a moment. No one was there to impress.

When she finally decided to hoist herself up using one of the sticks, she realized she didn't want to see her one equal just yet. He'd already seen her at her worst. She could try to get a little bit better before he saw her again.

At least less pathetic.

"I can't help but notice, Skye," started Simmons. They were in the Playground's lab. Skye didn't know what Simmons was doing, but the hacker was checking up on a trail of bodies that could be linked to her father. "The bandage on your neck… it's been over two months. Didn't Dr. Fuller tell you that you don't have to put them on anymore? I can't imagine you still need it for a burn. I could take a loo-"

"I'll ask," Skye told her roughly, before turning back to her screen. Simmons was dejected, but Skye was distracted.

Dr. Fuller had taken it off a week ago.

Skye had avoided seeing the skull at all costs. If she couldn't even bear it, how could she let anyone else?

So, stealing the wrappings from the medical supplies, each day she would cover it herself.

"New look?" asked May curiously. It wasn't a question Skye would think to get from her SO. Maybe she was getting suspicious after the other day's workout.

Enough time had passed where Skye could start getting into the more physical parts of her training. She didn't need crutches anymore, hadn't for a couple weeks. But she knew she was still grounded. She had to rebuild the muscles she'd lost. Because of this, her SO was still concerned when she'd worn her mission clothes to the session.

"You're still not going out in the field, Skye."

"I know," said Skye stiffly, absentmindedly tugging up the hood around her neck. "I guess I just miss the outfit. And it wouldn't be a bad idea to get used to moving in it again."

May observed her. Almost seemed like she would argue, momentarily, but eventually she just accepted it with a small nod.

Now her suspicions seemed to be back.

"What, I can't wear a scarf?" asked Skye.

"You never have before. And you've worn that same one for three days now."

"Ok, fashion police. I'll be sure to buy a new one to give you some variety."

"Skye," May said her name, firmly but with a tenderness that was different for the agent. "Is there something you want to discuss? To talk about?"

She knew. Had she seen it? The hood could have slipped at training. May saw through her. May could see she was Hydra.

You're not Hydra, a voice reminded her. The calm it brought was momentary. You were just their property.

Maybe you still are.

But if Skye was having a small panic attack on the inside, she showed no outward signs of it.

"No, I don't need to talk, thanks," Skye said, near surprising herself when she crassly added, "And you're not exactly a Chatty Cathy yourself, so you probably wouldn't be the first person I'd come to anyways." Skye told her this, scowling. Sheer annoyance grated at her bones.

If May was shocked by her blunt comment brought on by, she didn't show it. Didn't say anything.

Skye just walked away. Didn't look back.

Skye stared at vault D. She found herself doing this often.

She was running out of excuses not to go inside.

"Two on the north, two on the east. The building has multiple exit routes so if Fitz can calibrate the D.W.A.R.F.s, we'll be in much better shape."

Coulson was explaining the mission. Skye should have been listening. She was going into the field again. This should have been exciting.

But everyone was staring. She never even noticed it until May pointed it out. Morse stared. Coulson stared. Fitz stared. Mack. Hunter. Simmons. Everyone was staring at her. At her neck.

They knew.

They knew what was under her scarf, her poor attempts to mask something so evil. The blue fabric with fluffy red flowers shouldn't be able to hide that.

But it was masked. It was hidden. Maybe Ward… no. Ward wouldn't do that. He barely talked to anyone but her even before, not that Coulson had ordered her to go down there since the incident. But he was the only one that…

Hunter.

Hunter had been the one to wrap it before taking her to medical in the first place. Of course he knew. How could she forget? How could she miss this for two months?

And he'd told them. He'd told the team.

Hold it together, Skye. Pay attention. You're leaving in two hours and you have to know this.

She caught half. She caught enough. Maybe. They were dismissed.

Skye followed Hunter directly to his bunk, catching the door as it closed.

"Whoa, hello there," he said. "Ever heard of knocking?"

Her arm rushed to his neck; pinned him to the wall.

"What the hell!" he exclaimed.

"Why did you tell them?" she demanded, pressing forcefully.

"Tell them what? And who's them!"

"Everyone! Why did you tell them about the Hydra symbol?"

"Why would you think I'd say something about that?" he asked and Skye stared, waited for him to continue. To explain. "I mean I know it's an ugly little thing. I thought we all just sort of decided Hydra had bad taste and left it at that."

Skye didn't like that answer. He was playing with her. She pressed her arm down harder and he held up his hands.

"Listen, I haven't a bloody clue what you're talking about sweetheart, and you're obviously having a bit of freak out but get off," he told her sternly, shoving at her arm as she was forced to release.

She eyed him warily.

"I am not freaking out."

"Then what in the hell are you doing? You just assaulted me, you know!"

"You told them about the burn on my neck!" she accused. He looked confused. Had he forgotten?

"Everybody already knew about your neck. You had a bandage on it for months!"

"They were staring today. You were staring. All of you. Right here!" Skye said, pointing fiercely.

Hunter still seemed confused. Incredulous. Unimpressed by the explanation.

"Yeah, you've got this new scarf thing going on. It was different. People may have glanced."

"No! They were looking right at it. Staring. You all know I was burnt by Hydra!" she told him, ripping off her scarf to remind him exactly of what she meant.

She was only too aware that he was the first person to have seen the thing since she'd been back at the base, in months, other than the doctor who wrapped it.

Skye hadn't even seen it. She avoided it like the damn plague, wrapping it in her stolen gauze or scarf before she made any moves toward a mirror. She'd felt it, and not just as the constant presence that it was on her neck. With fingers too. She'd felt the course edges that made up the circle and skull and the multiple arms. She'd touched it so much her mind could probably picture what it looked like had she the joy of never actually seeing the logo before.

But she couldn't bring herself to really, actually, look.

Hunter seemed to calm down somewhat. Maybe he was recognizing Skye's state. Skye was starting to recognize her state.

She was losing it.

"I honestly didn't know you cared that much anyhow, but I haven't told anyone what it looked like. I mean it," he told her gently. His brown eyes darted downward, and she couldn't find a trace of cheek that seemed to always be present. "Though maybe you should."

She brushed her fingers to her neck.

"I can't…"

"Look, I'm not the best person to come to for emotional advice. But something's obviously tugging at you. Maybe you just need to settle this with Coulson or something."

Coulson?

Coulson would be the worst.

He was the director of S.H.I.E.L.D., and she was walking around under his nose with a giant sign on her neck for the enemy.

"No, no. I'm fine. I just need like a release or something." She rubbed her head with rough fingers. Glanced up at him.

Hunter looked truly concerned. And without someone being in immediate pain, that might have been a first... that Skye'd seen at least. Her gaze got caught in his worried eyes and she found herself staring at him longer than usual.

Dark brown eyes, good amount of scruff. In fact, undeniably attractive.

She really did need a release. And she realized, as it just seemed to click into place in her brain like the missing piece to a puzzle, she knew exactly what to do to get it.

In which Lance Hunter fit the bill for.

It wasn't something she'd done in the past. But it would feel good. Her body would feel good, instead of just echos of needles and burns and stabbing. Even training left her stressed now; tension built up in her core after small hits brought her to the mat.

She just wanted something simple. And good.

To release.

"Well, shooting range is probably where I'd start for- what the hell are you doing?"

"Come on. I know you want to; you check out my ass every time we do strength training."

"What?" he squeaked. "I do not- I mean, it's definitely a nice asset… but- Jesus! Would you stop taking your bloody clothes off!" Hunter exclaimed, simultaneously covering his eyes with one hand and holding out the other like some kind of halting gesture.

Skye stood, waiting, half naked and confused.

This was Lance Hunter. He hit on everything that could walk, as long as it didn't have an Adam's apple. He wasn't supposed to say no.

Skye's hand crept to her neck.

"Is it because of this?" she whispered.

"No!" he shouted animatedly. "Of course not."

But Skye considered it.

She looked down at her bare stomach; saw the scars that lined it. New and old. She saw the burns on her hand, her arm. She hadn't gotten to her pants yet but she knew what the knife wound scar looked like. Big and cracked, veiny and ugly. Repulsive.

That wasn't even counting her worst aspect.

She wasn't the same girl that could bounce up to boys and wrap them around her finger anymore. Not that she'd been much for casual sex in the past, but if she got a little drunk, she'd do some harmless teasing.

Now she was just forcing herself, unwanted, upon someone.

"I'm sorry," Skye said, eyes to the ground.

"It's fine, I promise. Just, just put your clothes back on," he told her, before hesitantly adding, "We can… talk?"

Put your clothes back on.

He didn't want to look at her. He was asking her to cover up.

She repulsed him.

Whether he sounded so uncertain about asking her if she wanted to talk was because he was disturbed by her or because, well, that was just Hunter, she didn't know. It didn't matter.

Skye shook her head resolutely.

No.

There was only one person she could talk to. One person who would understand. One person Hydra had affected as much as she.

She only had her shirt half on when she rapidly exited the room.

"Skye!" Hunter called. But she'd kept going. She wove through the Playground, avoiding anyone. If she sensed footsteps, she cut down a corridor. If she heard voices, she'd bolt into a room. There was only person she would speak to now.

Down into the vault she went, descending the stairs with fervor and sadness and confusion until she saw the wall. Using the tablet she'd grabbed, she immediately pressed the correct command and Ward was revealed to her.

The man who'd been broken but stood back up. The man S.H.I.E.L.D. threw back in a cage after what he'd done for her. She felt so vulnerable, seeing him. She felt naked. But no, not just from seeing him...

She'd forgotten her scarf.

But she realized she didn't care. Not with him. Not with the man who was there, who understood.

He stared at her with eyes filled with emotion. Surprise, hurt, relief, too many for Skye to find. But he didn't say anything. He was waiting for her to say something first, it seemed.

So she did.

A/n: Sorry about the lack of Ward in this chapter; next has Ward a plenty! This and the last chapter were actually supposed to be one but it got too long so, I split it up.

Thank you for all the follows and reviews! They really mean a lot to me.

Lastly, thank you Shadow375 for the beta! She's like, trying to keep up with her own story and has work and is busy so it's super nice of her to take the time!