A/N: Well, chapters on this piece have been taking me longer than I expected, probably because I am trying to weave together so many threads (a new experience for me) and because they tend to be three times longer than chapters on my last work. But I continue to write! ;) I also did get distracted by something shiny this week - if you enjoy the Skye/Hunter pairing, make sure you check out the three-chapter "Party Crashers" that took over my brain for a few days. It's definitely different from this piece, but very fun. Also - yes, I did see the preview for "Aftershocks" - and I'm excited. (!) On with the story!

The next days were exhausting and tumultuous for Skye as the floodgates, once opened, made way for a seemingly endless deluge of emotions. She cycled erratically amongst depression, fury, and moments of emotional saturation where it seemed like she had cried out every tear in her body and had nothing left but the energy to stare at the wall in a kind of daze.

On the positive side, her nightmares were becoming less frequent. And Simmons had all the data she could possibly want.

On day four, after an agonizing two-hour stretch of Skye sobbing her eyes out while everything in the Cage was pinned against the wall by the shock waves she was emitting, Hunter showed up with a pint of Ben & Jerry's Chocolate Therapy ice cream, a spoon, and a DVD of The Big Lebowski (which Simmons must have clued him in on).

Curled up on her cot with the ice cream and the movie, Skye really laughed for the first time since the Party House. The grief hurt like hell, but it was better than the denial. At least she could feel again. At least there were moments of relief, like this.

Hunter, watching her on the surveillance camera, smiled to himself. He'd developed a soft spot for this woman over the last four weeks - hard to avoid when he spent nearly every waking moment five days a week attending to her needs and watching her go through the tumult she was experiencing. It eased his heart to see her smiling.

God, sometimes he sucked at not getting attached.

"Hey."

A smile swept across his face at the sound of Bobbi's voice. But his pleasure at her presence was, as usual lately, tempered with guardedness. She was up to something - he'd been seeing the signs for weeks now, ever since San Juan.

The whole time they'd been together, really.

He swiveled his chair to face her, offering a welcoming smile. "Hey."

She smiled back, making her way over to him. Her arms were folded across her body as she leaned against the desk next to him, watching the screen. "Coulson's idea?" she guessed, nodding her head toward Skye and the ice cream.

"Mine, actually."

Bobbi arched a bemused eyebrow.

"Come on, Bob," Hunter protested. "The girl's going through hell. It's the least I can do."

Bobbi rolled her eyes, and an awkward silence settled over them.

"You know what I said the other day, about Coulson? This is the kind of thing I was talking about," Bobbi said quietly.

"I know," he replied with a hint of irritation, not taking his eyes off the screen.

Bobbi sighed. "When's the shift change?"

Hunter glanced up at the clock. "May should be here in about twenty minutes."

"Come find me after?" Bobbi murmured. Keeping her eyes on the screen, she placed her hand gently on the back of Hunter's neck, rubbing where she knew the knots would be.

He closed his eyes at her touch, then glanced up at her. "I'll be there."

On the fifth day, the haze of overwhelming emotion began to dissipate, and Skye started to find a shaky sense of equilibrium. She felt calmer, almost peaceful sometimes, with scattered waves of tears throughout the day instead of the constant flood that had nearly drowned her.

That afternoon, Coulson video-chatted, and they talked at length about the work Simmons was doing in the lab to sort out what was happening with Skye.

"I know that this all feels very disorienting and strange to you," Coulson acknowledged. "And it's true: we've never had to go through this with someone who's part of our team. But Skye, this is what we do - just like with Hannah, just like Donnie Gill. We may not have the resources we used to have, so it's taking a little bit longer. But we're going to figure this thing out."

Skye eyed him skeptically. "Things with Donnie Gill didn't work out so well."

Coulson's lips tightened. "SHIELD taught him to control his powers. Hydra brainwashed him," he reminded her. "No one's going to brainwash you. You aren't a weapon; you're a member of this team."

Coulson's assurance and optimism were contagious. Skye began to feel hopeful again that there might be life after the Cage. And after a week, Simmons had results she was ready to share.

Skye felt flutters of tentative excitement as Hunter established the FACE connection on the laptop in the lab. He retreated to the background, leaning against a cabinet, and Simmons and Coulson came close, taking up the bulk of the screen space.

"I'm very sorry it's taken so long to get as far as we have," Simmons began by apologizing. "It's just been a bit mad in here, what with analyzing the samples from all of the attacks..."

Skye twitched. "All of the attacks?" she interrupted. "Wait a minute; I thought there were only two?" She looked back and forth amongst them. Coulson was tight-lipped, Hunter carefully neutral. Simmons was clearly dismayed, though doing a better job trying to hide it than she would have a year ago. "Are you telling me that there have been more while I've been - in the last week?"

Coulson looked resigned. "Two more," he confirmed. "Miami and Guatemala."

Skye swung wildly from incredulity to distress. "Why didn't you tell me? I should be helping track them down!"

"Skye," Coulson replied firmly, "my priority for you right now is getting you out of that Cage. I told you I didn't want you worrying about what's happening out here, and I meant it. Let's get you out, and then you can track and chase them down to your heart's content."

Skye pressed her lips together stubbornly, tears stinging her eyes. But he was right.

"Fine," she conceded.

Coulson nodded to Simmons.

"Right," Simmons acknowledged, glancing at Skye apologetically. "Well, to begin with, we've been tracking the phenomena that Skye has been manifesting, and have essentially confirmed that she is periodically releasing vibrations of varying strengths, from very weak to incredibly powerful. Sometimes there is only one strong wave, but more frequently they come in clusters. They seem to emanate from her location and spread evenly in every direction."

Skye nodded. This much she had already figured out. She was mostly looking forward to learning how she could make them stop.

"Good to know," Coulson affirmed with more patience than Skye felt, folding his arms. "Go on."

"Between Fitz and myself, we believe that the earthquakes we experienced here at the Playground were actual earthquakes that were triggered by the emitted vibrations interacting with tectonic plates. The shaking at the Party House, however, was entirely the result of the vibrations."

Skye's eyes were wide. Interacting with tectonic plates? Holy -

"Now, on to test results." Simmons shuffled through a pile of papers. "We had talked about, but never actually did, perform a complete genome sequence on Skye after the GH-325. I thought now was a very appropriate time to do so."

Coulson nodded in agreement, and Skye bit her lip, fighting down a sudden wave of fear. She had no idea what she was about to hear.

"On the whole, Skye's genetic code is very similar to a typical human genome; however, there are a number of genetic markers, perhaps two or three dozen, which I have never encountered before. Several of them appear to be recent changes - I was also able to sequence DNA from a sample of her blood we had in storage from a physical exam prior to the incident, and a number of the genetic markers are present only in the more recent sample."

Skye blinked, her initial relief warring with confusion. "So, what you're saying is..."

Simmons finished her sentence. "Even before what happened in Puerto Rico, you had unique genetic characteristics. However, your exposure to the Obelisk and whatever was inside it seems to have permanently altered your genetic code even further."

Skye felt a little dizzy. Coulson, somehow, appeared to be utterly unfazed by this entire conversation.

A few of the pieces rattling around in Skye's brain fit together. "So the - the side effects I'm experiencing...?"

"Are most likely permanent," Simmons confirmed apologetically.

Skye nodded slowly. Okay. She had prepared herself for that much, anyway. But the slowly intensifying scream that had been building up inside her heart since Simmons first mentioned DNA now found its way out her lips as a whisper.

"What am I?"

Simmons paused before giving her a smile that was reassuring, though it looked a little strained. "Overall, your genetic code is largely consistent with the human genome, apart from a handful of alterations. In the absence of alternative identification, I would continue to consider yourself a somewhat modified human being."

That was less encouraging than Simmons probably meant for it to be, but Skye could roll with it. It was better than some other possibilities. "Okay. So how do I turn off the effects?"

"Well...it's fascinating, really..." Simmons began, shuffling through a sheaf of papers, her face beginning to glow with sciencey excitement. "The occurrences of the vibrations are certainly correlated both with spikes in your stress hormones and with strong emotions, but they're not always well-correlated." The blank looks on Coulson's and Skye's faces prompted her to elaborate. "In other words, the strength of the phenomenon is not always directly proportional to what's happening in your mind and body. You might emit a very strong shock wave in response to a moderately distressing thought, whereas a very distressing thought could actually produce weaker vibrations. The factors effecting the vibrations seem to be numerous and complex in their interrelation."

"On a practical level, what does that mean?" Coulson's eyebrows were furrowed. He looked concerned, which concerned Skye.

Simmons tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Unfortunately it means that, thus far, I have not been able to isolate a single factor or combination of factors that directly control or activate the vibrations. I cannot, therefore, manufacture a simple means of suppressing them. Anything we could try - medications or the like - would be extremely uncertain and subject to periodic failure, which I think we all agree would be too great a risk." She glanced around, noting the agreement in everyone's faces.

"I can and will continue to look for a physiologic solution; there are several other possibilities. There is also a different possibility, which I find hopeful: if the process is not entirely physiologic, that suggests that there is an element of will involved, which means we may be able to achieve a level of conscious control."

"What do you mean?" Skye said quickly, leaning toward the screen.

Simmons' reassuring smile seemed more genuine this time. "Well, if, as I suspect, you are currently exerting a level of subconscious control, then we will simply need to find a way to transfer that control from your subconscious to your conscious mind. Think of it like..." She paused thoughtfully for a moment. "Like toilet training a child. For an infant, urinating is not a conscious decision; it's an unconscious bodily function. Through the process of toilet training, the child becomes aware of his or her own bodily processes, and urination becomes a conscious action."

Coulson raised an eyebrow. Skye fought down the slightly hysterical impulse to giggle at the look on his face.

"It's like biofeedback," Hunter supplied from his post against the cabinet. Simmons jumped and Coulson glanced at him quickly, as if they'd both forgotten he was there. "Like learning to control your heart rate or blood pressure."

Simmons nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly. Except the techniques for learning those are well-established, and this would be more a matter of trial and error."

Skye suddenly felt a little punchy. "So, essentially what you're saying is, I have to potty train the side effects of my mutated genetic code."

Simmons scrunched up her face. "Something like that."

It would almost be funny, if it wasn't so surreal. And she was pretty sure it meant she was going to have to be in that damn Cage even longer.

Skye sighed.

Skye disconnected the transmission after discussing with Simmons what to expect in the next stage of testing. She moved from the chair to sit cross-legged on her cot, hands limp on her knees. That hadn't been the news she wanted to hear.

The little whisper of fear rose up from deep within her heart - How long can they continue to spend all this time and energy on me, when there's so much else going on out there?

Skye rested her head back against the wall, her eyes squeezing shut and her jaw setting. That was a stupid voice she wasn't going to listen to. She knew Coulson better than that.

Beep

Her eyes flew open.

Incoming transmission from Agent Lance Hunter

Skye's face softened into a small smile. Of course he could tell she was upset. She supposed he must have a PhD in her facial expressions by now, after keeping an eye on her all day, every day. The surveillance had stopped being weird after a while; it was just the way life was. It was almost kind of comforting now, after the way Hunter had been there for her over the last week.

It had started with his offer to listen if she needed to talk; then, every time she was reaching the end of her ability to tolerate the chaos of her emotions, he'd been there - on the laptop screen or at the door, with a quip to make her laugh, something encouraging to say, or occasionally dark chocolate (of which he apparently had a stash somewhere).

Skye was too grateful at first to be surprised by his thoughtfulness, but on the fourth or fifth day, her thoughts cleared enough to realize how out of character his behavior seemed for the snarky, seemingly untouchable former mercenary. That is, until she began remembering their conversations about Isabelle Hartley, Hunter's ridiculous and emotionally-driven decision to ICE them all and go after Carl Creel by himself, and the self-conscious way he'd laughed off his obvious inability to keep from getting attached. Apparently, Lance Hunter had a soft side. It was just deeply hidden beneath a layer of snark and bluster.

Skye was glad he had it. His kindness toward her in the rough patches had helped to sustain her more than she really knew how to express.

And here he was, reading her mind again.

She grabbed the laptop off the table, sat back down on the cot, and clicked *ACCEPT*. Hunter popped up on the screen. He was in the lounge, his feet up on the coffee table next to the laptop. Unsurprisingly, he even had a bottle of beer.

"Hey," she said, with a weak smile. "Are you supposed to be drinking on duty?"

"Hey, yourself," he replied with mock offense. "It's only one beer. I promise it won't slow my response times." He paused, studying her carefully. "How are you doing?"

"Crappy." Skye shrugged. "But you already knew that. Those results really weren't what I was hoping to hear."

"Yeah, I know." He sighed, setting the bottle down on the table, behind her range of sight. "It's not over though, right? Just a matter of time. Simmons still has some ideas."

Skye nodded, halfheartedly acknowledging his point.

They sat in silence for a moment.

"I just...I just hoped there'd be something easy she could do, you know?" Skye sighed, looking up toward the ceiling of the Cage. "Some shut-off switch for...all of this, that could make it go away. Some magic pill or something I could take. And then I could get the hell out of here -" she whacked the wall of the Cage - "and back into the field."

Hunter nodded. There wasn't an easy answer. "At least you're with SHIELD," he replied, trying to be reassuring. "I mean, if you're manifesting strange abilities, what better place to be, right? They're gonna figure it out eventually."

Skye seemed unconvinced, her face still glum.

Hunter decided to try changing the subject, hoping at least to occupy Skye's thoughts and keep her from obsessing about the expected delay. "How did you end up as a SHIELD agent, anyway? You didn't go to the Academy."

Skye recognized the distraction, but at the moment, she was thankful to be distracted. She shook her head, a wry smirk on her lips. "Nope. Coulson and - " Hunter noticed how she cut herself off. "Coulson brought me in, actually, for interrogation. I used to be part of a hacktivist organization, trying to change the world, and creating lots of trouble for SHIELD in the process." Skye made a face at Hunter's blank expression. "What?"

"A what organization?"

"Hacktivist."

That didn't seem to help.

"You know, activists who hack - hacking activists - hacktivists? Accessing secure information and making it available to the world?"

Hunter nodded slowly, raising one eyebrow as it sank in. "Got it. Carry on."

Skye shot an amused look at him. "Anyway, they brought me in, which was exactly what I wanted, because I knew SHIELD had information about my parents." Her expression wavered briefly, but she powered through it. "I needed a way in so I could get access to the unredacted file. My secret came out before too long, but Coulson had a hunch about me, so he asked me to stay."

"So, wait." Hunter's forehead was crinkled, his tone skeptical. "You infiltrated SHIELD, and Coulson asked you to join?"

Skye nodded. "Yup."

"He recruits the strangest people," Hunter observed reflectively, shaking his head.

"He has good instincts," Skye corrected him. "And he believes in people. He sees the good in them when no one else does."

Skye was puzzled by the expression that swept across Hunter's face. It was like a strange combination of epiphany, confusion, and resolve. She thought about asking him what was going on, but decided against it.

"So," she transitioned instead. "How'd you end up in this business?"

Hunter laughed and reached over to grab his beer, taking a drink before answering. "Joined the military right after school, the Navy. Got recruited into the Special Air Service a few years later." At Skye's look of confusion, he explained. "It's like Special Forces. Covert operations, intelligence, direct action when necessary. Very tough to get in. Kind of a big deal."

"And you were recruited into it?" Skye repeated, looking a little impressed.

Hunter bobbed his eyebrows, downplaying it, then moved on. "Anyway, I was there for a number of years, until I met Bobbi while doing cross-training in North Carolina."

Skye arched an eyebrow in teasing interest.

Hunter rolled his eyes. "She was there for some SHIELD op, but I didn't know it at the time. Spies don't have a tendency to advertise their profession to military guys who hit on them on the pier."

Skye smirked.

"Anyway, you know how things went - we hit it off, got serious, I left the military to go freelance so we could be together more often. Then things with Bobbi fell apart, then SHIELD fell apart, my options evaporated, and now, here I am."

"That's kind of a sad story." Skye's eyes were compassionate.

Hunter shrugged and took another swig. "Could've been worse."

"At least things with Bobbi seem to be going well again," she observed hopefully.

Hunter's smile was less enthusiastic than Skye expected. She found herself wondering if there was something going on there that she didn't know about.

"Do you still feel like you're stuck at SHIELD?" she asked carefully.

Hunter stared off into space for a moment, thinking. "I dunno. Sometimes there are things I don't mind about it."

Skye smiled wryly. "Such glowing praise."

Hunter met her gaze with his own, his expression more earnest than Skye could remember seeing him before. "Why did you stay?"

Skye grew sober and thoughtful. "Well, I came from the world of idealistic free-information hackers and joined a covert spy organization. I thought I was going into the belly of the beast. But I was really surprised. Coulson was honest with me. He treated me like I had something to offer. And when I saw the work SHIELD was doing to protect people and got to know the team, I wanted to be part of it. They were more real and selfless about saving the world than the self-preserving jerks I worked with as a hacker. Well, most of them were." Nostalgia, grief, and bitterness wrestled on her face, and Hunter thought with a twinge of empathy of the Hydra boyfriend who used to be in Vault D. "From what I saw of the rest of SHIELD, not everyone was like that. I don't know that I could have stayed without Coulson being the one who found me. He took a chance on me, when it didn't make sense. I'm glad he did."

"And I'm sure he hasn't regretted it," Hunter observed honestly. Coulson's affection for Skye was obvious to anyone with eyes.

Skye blinked back the tears that sprang up at his words. She needed to hear that.

They talked for a while longer, about the Rising Tide and Hunter's military exploits, until it was nearly time for the shift change to Agent May. Skye was looking forward to picking her brain about discipline and control of unconscious body processes. If anyone had insight into that kind of thing, it would be Agent Melinda May.

A/N: Thanks to Nascent Narrator and R.C. (you know who you are) for beta'ing this chapter and patiently listening to me blather about it. ;)

Please keep me motivated by letting me know what you think - I love to know what people enjoy AND I love constructive criticism! (And I can't tell you how encouraging it is to know that people are reading! Hehe.)