NOTES: Easing our way back into post-episode/missing scene territory by explaining what happened in this slightly now AU version of the show.
Thanks to the_wordbutler for the beta and serving as my sounding board.
Anna wakes to a killer migraine, throbbing pain in one of her extremities, and the need to bury her face in a trash can. Thankfully, someone helps her out with the last one. Whatever drug John gave her has yet to fully leave her system, and it causes her to spend her first few minutes of consciousness dry heaving into a wastebasket.
"Here," Jemma says as she sets down the trash can and gives her a glass of water. Anna reaches for the drink, and her eyes catch on the bandages covering her right hand. The young doctor grimaces as she informs Anna, "We couldn't get to you as soon as we'd hoped. Unfortunately, you have three broken fingers in your right hand."
Upon closer inspection of the bandaging, Anna sees that her right thumb and index fingers are unharmed. "Thank god," she whispers.
Jemma's eyebrows rise. "You're grateful for broken fingers?"
"Bow hand," Anna explains before taking a sip of the water to strengthen her voice. "If he'd done it to my left, I'd be screwed."
The younger woman nods. "I lack the proper materials on this plane to make a cast, but as soon as we're back to base, I'll take care of it."
"Why aren't we on the usual plane?" Anna asks as she looks around.
"It was… damaged. It's being repaired at the moment."
"Are you all okay?"
"We're fine," Phil answers as he strides into the tiny cabin, Leo hot on his heels. Phil leans over to place a kiss on her forehead and run a thumb across her cheekbone. "I'm so sorry this happened to you."
"It was Grant," Anna tells him. Phil's head tilts a little to the side as he processes the information, and she hears Jemma sigh.
"You are still under the influence of the drugs—"
"It was Grant," Anna declares while staring down the younger woman. They all stay quiet and she shakes her head. "One of the last things I remember—and I remember it clearly—is him saying he was sending Grant back to you guys to make sure he stayed in your good graces and you didn't realize he was playing you."
Jemma gives an incredibly forced and polite smile before turning toward Phil. "Sir, you really can't believe that Agent Ward would do this, would you? He jumped out of a plan to save my life. It's not possible he could be capable of doing something like this."
"Unless he did that to earn our trust," Leo suggests.
Phil's lips purse into a hard line. He turns to his young subordinates and assumes his commanding tone of voice. "Tell Trip. Ward is supposed to be at the base with Skye and May, and if this is true, they need to be notified." Once the scientists hustle out of the closet of a medical bay, he turns his attention back to Anna. "What happened?" Phil asks gently.
Anna sighs and out of habit tries to run her hand through her mess of brunette waves, but she is quickly reminded that her fingers are wrapped in bulky bandages. "He came to my door. Said you'd sent him to pick me up, that I was in danger. I hadn't heard from any of you, so I didn't really know he was lying to me." She pauses to look up at Phil. "But then I remembered our safe word and how he was supposed to use it if the message was really from you."
"He didn't use it because I never told him what it was," Phil explains.
Anna nods. "I tried to make some flimsy excuse to get to my purse where my gun was, but he saw through it. He put his gun to my back; I twisted and elbowed him in the jaw and tried to take away his pistol." Phil shows the barest of smirks at that, and she rolls her eyes. "He pistol-whipped me, and the next thing I knew, I was handcuffed to a table and The Clairvoyant drugged me. What happened after that?"
"Garrett turned you over to one of the prisoners, a man who sucks up energy from anything and anyone around him and uses it as a weapon," Phil tells her.
The thought of someone with that kind of power knowing she's out there and could be used as bait makes her skin crawl. "What happened to him?"
Phil shrugs. "We sort of vaporized him."
Anna's migraine intensifies at that answer. "Why did I ever say life would be better with fewer secrets?" she mutters. Her brain is still a muddled mess, but one key thing finally sticks out in her mind. "Oh my god, Felix," she breathes.
Phil places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "As soon as Garrett sent me the first picture of you, I posed as the super and called the cop on the second floor to check on your apartment. He took in your cat and had a team process your apartment. I already called for a cleaning service to come take care of things."
"There's a cop in my building?" Anna asks.
"There's two, actually."
She sighs. "Phil, please tell me you haven't run background checks on all of my neighbors."
"I wanted to make sure you were safe," Phil says.
She holds her hand up to his face. "Maybe you should've been more worried about yourself than the people in my building." He cringes and looks at his shoes. "I'm going to have to move. I can't live in a place where I was taken at gunpoint."
"I understand that," he tells her.
"And I need for you to give me at least one good reason why I should tell you where my next place will be."
That causes him to look back up at her, and there's so much hurt in his eyes it twists her already knotted stomach almost to the breaking point. "I can't give you a reason. I shouldn't have sought you out after I died. The team, they thought it was a good idea. And so did I; I missed you so much. But it was obviously a mistake." Hesitantly, he reaches once more for her cheek. "You don't deserve this—any of this. I'm so sorry you had to go through it."
She leans her face into his hand, anchoring herself in the contact. It's the one thing in her world at the moment that is keeping everything else from consuming her. She wants to tell him that it's okay, and say this isn't his fault, but it is. And while she loves him so deeply it aches, she can't let this become normal for her life.
"What can I do?" he asks.
Anna can't frame an answer. Even without the drugs, her mind is too much of a mess. With whatever the Clairvoyant injected in her is swirling in her bloodstream, and her thoughts feel like the subject matter of a Dali painting. Everything is melty and wrong, but there is one thing that comes to mind.
"Take off your shirt," she says.
His eyebrows rise. "Why?"
"Because ever since the night in the hotel, I've had nightmares about where you turn into an al—"
"Please don't finish that word," he interrupted. "May and Skye are the only other ones who know about that."
Anna eyes flutter shut as she gives a somewhat bitter sigh. "Remind me of that when I'm not drugged. But I still want to see it. I didn't put two and two together that you were trying to hide your injury from me until later."
"You sure? You may not be in the best mental state for this."
She laughs at that. "When am I ever in a good mental state?"
Phil stares at her for a minute before he removes his tie and begins to unbutton his shirt. Just as she suspected, he's not wearing an undershirt this time, and she mentally kicks herself for not questioning why he wore on the night they stayed at the hotel. Slowly, she swings her legs over the side of the gurney. Everything tilts for a second and she swears under her breath, but the dizziness subsides.
When she looks back up, Phil's chest and face are equally bare. Her fingers reach out for the scar, but before she touches it, she waits for his okay. Phil gives one small nod, and instantly the fingertips of her left hand make contact. The ridge of raised skin is warm and paler than its surroundings. She hates that it's on his body, hates that he has to see it every day. "This is what happened to you?"
"No," he tells her quietly. "That's the exit wound."
It takes a minute for her to process that, and once the meaning of the words sink in, her stomach rolls again. As much as she hates her current situation, Phil doesn't deserve this—he never could. Hot tears fill her eyes as she twirls her index finger in the air.
"Anna," he warns.
"Do it."
His back—strong, freckled, and gorgeous—is now the home of a grizzly scar. She can't help the gasp that comes with the sight of it. Closing her eyes, she learns the new terrain of his skin with her left hand. She had it all memorized before, but now must adjust to the changes. He lets her run her fingers over his back for a few minutes before stepping away and redressing.
"Does it hurt?" she asks.
Phil shakes his head. "No. I actually feel better than before." He pauses while adjusting his tie. "You had nightmares?"
Anna nods. "You turned into an alien—gray skin, yellow eyes."
"I could have also been turning into your cat."
She snickers and shakes her head. "I hate this," she admits quietly.
"Me, too."
"It's like we're these two incomplete things that keep trying to smash into each other in hopes of making something whole. But every time we ram into each other, these little pieces break off and get left behind. And I don't think either one of us can sacrifice any more of ourselves."
Phil sighs. "I know. I don't want to let you go, but I should." Gently he takes her injured hand in his. "You don't deserve this."
"We could run away," Anna tells him. "You were going to quit S.H.I.E.L.D. anyway. The organization's in shambles. We could go somewhere and never look back, bring the kids with us if you want."
"Kids?" he asks with a small smirk.
"You know what I mean. I could give lessons, and you could… What would you do?"
Phil gives a small shrug. "I could repair watches. Delicate work, specialized tools… could be fun."
"You're such a dweeb," she says with a smile.
He grins back for a second—the little one that never fails to send a rush of something warm and comforting through her—but it quickly fades. "It can't happen. I'm sorry, Anna, but I've literally given my life for this organization. And even if they can't give me the answers I'm looking for, I owe it to them to help rebuild."
Anna swallows hard before asking the inevitable. "So what about us?"
"That's up to you. I can be an incredibly selfish man and would be willing to take whatever you're willing to give, but I can't ask a single thing from you. Not after this."
She doesn't know what to say to that, and she probably shouldn't say anything with the lingering drugs in her system. Instead, she struggles to stand and is grateful, not at all for the first time, that she fits perfectly with him—he's just the right height for her to bury her face in his neck. His arms wrap around her to help her stay upright, and probably to hold her close, too. She feels a kiss on her head before he rests his cheek there.
They stay like that for a while, Anna relaxing against the comfort of his suit and the smell of his cologne. Eventually, there's a knock, and Jemma sticks her head in to tell them they need to strap in for landing. Phil doesn't pull away until she's left. He keeps an arm around Anna's waist and holds her good hand in one of his while they make their way out to the little cargo section. She feels Leo and Jemma's eyes on her as Phil helps her buckle in with patience and tenderness. Once he is strapped in next to her, he turns his attention to his agents. "Any word on the team?"
Leo shakes his head. "Base is silent, and there's no messages—at least for me and Jemma—from anyone."
Phil nods sharply. "When we land, Trip and I will clear the hangar to make sure we don't have any surprises waiting for us. You three will stay here until we give the all clear."
"Fine by us," Jemma says.
"Trip?" Anna asks.
"He was one of Garrett's agents." He reaches over to hold Anna's hand and gives a small squeeze. "He's clean, I'm sure. You don't have to worry about him." She nods, and he doesn't let go of her hand until the plane stops moving.
A man Anna's never seen before comes into the cargo hold a minutes after the engines go silent. "Sir?" he asks.
"You and I will sweep the hangar before giving the all clear for them to exit," Phil answers.
Trip—at least that's who Anna assumes he is—nods once and hesitates for a second before asking, "Ward? What's his status?"
Phil's eyes flicker to Anna before he answers, "Capture if you can, kill if necessary."
"Yes, sir," Trip answers. He turns to her briefly before they leave. "Sorry my boss is a dick."
"Me, too," Anna responds, and then they're gone. Leo triggers for the exit ramp to close back up, and Jemma comes over to look her over.
"How are you feeling?"
"Shitty," Anna answers.
"Is there anything I can do?"
Anna thinks about how horribly she's slept in the last couple weeks—and how much worse it will be after this. "Sleeping pills would be nice."
Jemma frowns for a second. "I can't give you anything like that until the drugs are out of your system, and then I'd need to look at your anti-depressant and anti-anxiety medications to know what you could take."
Anna snorts. "Those could probably be upped, too."
"Is there anything those of us without prescription pads could do?" Leo asks.
"No," Anna answers. "Don't worry about it."
They sit in silence for a few more minutes before Phil's voice crackles over the intercom that the hangar is safe. Leo lowers the ramp once more, and Jemma helps walk Anna out. As they come around the plane, they all see a large, open space in the hangar.
"Where's the Bus?" Jemma asks.