A/N: First of all, thanks once again for all of the comments and kudos! I know I said this chapter might be a while, but my brain absolutely refused to focus on my case study until I got it done, so here we are again.
Second of all, the lovely, amazing sapphireglyphs made an absolutely beautiful edit for this series, which you should definitely check out here: sapphireglyphs . tumblr . com (slash) post/93544311794/before-you-fall-series-by-shineyma-w-x Seriously, it's perfect, go check it out.
I think that's it, so...
Thank you for reading and, as always, please be gentle if you review!
Once all of the reports for the berserker staff incident are filed and the debrief is complete, HQ finally allows the team the leave Coulson requested two missions ago. They return to the United States, landing in California, for some reason, and Coulson offers hotel rooms to anyone who wants them, explaining them away as a reward for how hard they've been working.
Grant and Jemma take shameless advantage of it; aside from a brief trip to a drug store for some necessary purchases, they don't leave the hotel for five days. Actually, they barely leave the room.
There's a surprisingly well-equipped exercise room on the second floor that Grant uses for his training and there's a continental breakfast just off the lobby every morning for when they get tired of room service. Additionally, Grant spends two hours every morning on the roof with May, receiving instruction in Tai Chi and practicing controlling the lingering rage the berserker staff unearthed. Other than that, though, Grant and Jemma pretty much stay in the room.
The days pass pleasantly, in a haze of sex and laughter and plenty of quiet, companionable moments. It's a welcome relief from the stress and chaos of the last few weeks; Jemma's nightmares have lessened, and it's easy enough to keep his anger under control when it's just the two of them. Fitz and Skye invade their room on Saturday for the previously planned movie night, but Grant finds that not only does he not mind it, he actually has fun. Not that he lets on, of course—he wouldn't want them to get too comfortable intruding on his and Jemma's brief opportunities for privacy.
Unfortunately, all good things come to an end, and they're just getting dressed after a very enjoyable shower when both of their phones beep at once. Jemma, closer to the nightstand, picks hers up and frowns at it.
"We have a mission," she says. "I think."
"You think?" he asks, sitting down on the bed to pull his boots on.
"Well, it's from Skye," she tells him. "And what it says is that we have a muffin."
Grant leans over to snag his phone and, sure enough, that's exactly what the text message says. He unlocks his phone, intending to text her back and ask for clarification, but before he can, he gets two more messages. The first one says we have a MISSION not muffin. wheels up at nine and the second one says but now I want a muffin please bring one.
He rolls his eyes, but Jemma makes a thoughtful noise. "A muffin does sound nice, doesn't it? Do we have enough time?"
"If we hurry," he says. He stands and shoves his phone into his pocket. "We'd better get packing."
Jemma nods and heads back into the bathroom to grab their shower kits, while he pulls their suitcases out of the closet. He's a little regretful to be leaving, which surprises him a bit. He's not made for inactivity, and, despite how much he's enjoyed the uninterrupted alone time with Jemma, he's honestly been getting kind of bored. Still, it's been nice, having time with Jemma—and occasionally the others—without needing to worry about her safety.
And there's something else to worry about now, too. Thus far, between the instruction from May and the fact that he's been spending nearly all of his time with Jemma, who has a calming effect on him, it's been simple enough to keep control of his rage, aside from the occasional flare-up. Out in the field, though, there are sure to be plenty of irritants that will lead to his anger spiking again.
But there's nothing for it. He has a job to do, and that's that.
x
Back on the Bus, once they've dropped their things off in their rooms, they go to the kitchen and eat their muffins while Skye and Fitz fill them in on their mission. Apparently they're being called in to evaluate a potential member of the Index—something that makes Grant a little wary, since that's what the last mission started as, too. He really hopes the woman, a potential telekinetic by the name of Hannah Hutchins, isn't in possession of an Asgardian artifact.
In this case, though, Hutchins hasn't attacked anyone, at least not purposefully. Hutchins is a quality-control engineer at a particle acceleration lab. And not a very good one, judging by a recent explosion, which left four technicians dead. Between the deaths of her coworkers and the fact that the town blames her, Hutchins is likely to be highly emotional—not a comforting thought, when there's a possibility that she has telekinetic powers.
According to Fitz, the Department of Energy has determined that the lab is too dangerous to enter, but he and Jemma think that they can still get data on the explosion from the instruments. They quickly finish their respective muffins and head for the lab, arguing about the likelihood of a particle accelerator exploding causing someone to develop telekinesis.
Grant shakes his head as he watches them go, amused. Knowing how much the two of them love scientific puzzles, he's honestly impressed that they stayed long enough to finish their muffins.
"Anything else I should know?" he asks Skye, turning back to his own muffin.
"Just that Coulson wants you and May to go with him to talk to Hannah," Skye says.
Grant nods. It's really the only sensible course of action. Hutchins is potentially very dangerous, and as specialists, he and May are more likely to do well in a fight with someone who can throw things around with her mind.
Actually, it's a lot more caution than Coulson has been displaying, lately. Maybe all of these near-death experiences are finally taking their toll on the man. If so, it's about time.
x
LA to Utah isn't a long flight at all, and less than two hours later, they're pulling up at Hutchins' house. They find the front yard full of people, most of whom are shouting about Hutchins being a murderer, while Hutchins herself is standing on the front porch, watching them. There are several police officers apparently trying to contain the situation, but they're not doing a very good job of it.
Grant has to take a moment to marvel at the stupidity on display. These people obviously think that Hutchins purposefully killed those four men, and they've decided the best thing to do is harass her? Really? Idiots.
Still, if Hutchins does have powers, the last thing they need is for the crowd to provoke her. May is hanging back, helping the police keep the crowd away, and Coulson immediately asks the officer on the porch if he can get the crowd dispersed. The man's answer is a very unhelpful comment about it being a free country, and Coulson shoots a wary look at the mob before turning to Hutchins and introducing himself.
"Have you come to lock me up?" she asks tearily.
"To talk," Grant corrects.
Hutchins looks at him, then glances at the crowd. "Well, what good will that do?"
Before either of them have a chance to reply, an egg splatters against the front door, and there's a resurgence of shouting from the crowd. Grant orders the officers to get the crowd back, but before they can comply, the police car parked down the street begins to speed towards the house. Coulson and Grant both move forward, Coulson tackling a man out of the car's path and Grant trying to get a look at the driver.
There isn't one.
The car takes out part of the fences and smashes into the garage, and there's a very brief moment of silence. Then one of the women on the lawn accuses Hutchins—"that freak"—of trying to kill them all, and the cop on the porch with them pulls his gun on her.
"Easy, officer," Grant says, extending a hand as Hutchins backs away. "Put the gun down."
The officer slowly lowers his gun as Hutchins claims innocence and Coulson tries to calm her down. She's obviously frantic, and in wake of the driverless car, it's honestly making Grant a little nervous.
He's not the only one. There's the unmistakable sound of the night-night gun, and Grant whirls to see Hutchins falling, revealing May standing in the driveway, gun still raised.
"Time to go," she says.
"So much for the welcome wagon," Coulson says as Grant crouches to check on Hutchins. She's fine, just unconscious, the night-night gun having done its job well. It has a really stupid name, but no one can argue with results.
Coulson gives him a nod, so Grant easily picks up Hutchins and carries her to the car. The crowd pulls back to allow him to pass, most of them muttering to each other, obviously concerned about strangers swooping in and knocking Hutchins unconscious. Regardless of how much they blame her, the Men in Black thing isn't sitting well, so they need to get out of here, quick.
Skye's standing next to the SUV, glaring at May, and he has to say her name twice to get her attention.
"What?" she snaps, finally pulling her eyes away from May. Then she looks down his arms, currently full of the unconscious Hutchins, and smiles sheepishly. "Oh."
She opens the door for him, and he carefully maneuvers Hutchins into the back seat. It'll be a tight fit, having the three of them in the back. They really should have thought this through better.
"Let's get her back to the Bus," Coulson says. "We'll update FitzSimmons on the way."
Jemma and Fitz are currently at the lab where the explosion occurred, taking readings with the DWARFs. Grant was uneasy about letting them go alone, of course, but there are still local SHIELD agents on the scene, and there's no reason to expect trouble at the closed site. Especially since Jemma and Fitz aren't even allowed to go into the building.
Still, he won't be able to relax until they're safely back on the Bus, and he's glad to hear from Coulson, once he's hung up with Jemma and Fitz, that the two scientists are nearly finished. With any luck, they'll get Hutchins off to the Fridge and have this whole case over with by tomorrow.
x
Jemma and Fitz actually beat them back to the Bus, since the particle accelerator lab is much closer to the airfield than Hutchins' house. They're already hard at work in the lab when May parks the SUV in the cargo bay, but they do come to the door to watch as Grant carries Hutchins up the stairs. Skye stays with them, presumably intending to vent her frustrations about May's actions—she spent the whole drive back glaring at the back of May's head.
Speaking of May, she opens the door to the Cage for him, then departs, informing them that wheels will be up in three. Grant waits, still holding Hutchins, as Coulson unfolds the bed from the wall. He goes to set Hutchins down, but Coulson stops him.
"We're just gonna keep the mattress," Coulson says, pulling it off of the bed and setting it on the floor, against the wall. Then he folds the bed back up into the wall and steps back so Grant can put Hutchins down.
It's a reasonable precaution, Grant acknowledges as he follows Coulson out of the Cage, but it's out of character for Coulson, who usually takes it very easy on the people they encounter over the course of their investigations. Compared to the way he approached the Amador situation, even before they knew she was being controlled…it's a little concerning.
Hell, compared to the way they treated Skye, who they caught literally in the act of leaking classified SHIELD intel, it's downright worrying. Coulson's obviously rattled by the whole situation, but why?
In the briefing room, Coulson immediately pulls up the feed from the Cage, and Grant leans against the table. He needs to ask about this, if only to get some idea of where Coulson's mind is. Because right now, he has no idea.
"Just a mattress, sir?" he asks casually. "It's a six hour long ride to the Fridge."
"Fitz added magnetic shielding to the Cage after Simmons had her scare," Coulson says, and Grant barely holds back a flinch at the reference. "If Ms. Hutchins has this power, then that room should keep it from getting out. But in there, she'll be just as dangerous."
Grant looks away as May enters the room, thinking furiously. It's not like Coulson to make such a casual reference to Jemma's near death, at least not to Grant's face, and it was totally unnecessary in the context of the conversation. He could just as easily have said the Cage was shielded, without bringing Jemma into it, so what does it mean that he did?
"How is she?" May asks, pulling Grant out of his thoughts.
"The dendrotoxin's wearing off," Coulson says. "She'll be awake soon. Scared, in a strange room. Our next interaction with her is crucial to gaining her trust, which is why I want you there."
May looks uncharacteristically uncertain. Considering what happened the last time she was involved in an Index Asset Evaluation and Intake, Grant can hardly blame her. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"
"If Ms. Hutchins is gonna believe anything we say, she needs to know we're not hiding things from her," Coulson says. "Which means you, explaining the situation."
There's a very obvious flaw in that plan, and Grant can't help pointing it out. "What if that doesn't calm her down? What if that makes her more agitated?"
"Then he definitely wants me in there," May answers, eyes locked on Coulson.
"Pretty much," Coulson agrees.
That seems out of character for Coulson, too. Everyone knows how badly May was rattled by the events in Bahrain—she transferred to Administration, for the love of god—and casually making her responsible for Hutchins seems strangely cruel, coming from one of her oldest friends.
But asking outright will do no good, so all Grant says is, "I'll observe from out here."
Coulson makes a crack about losing his tie, then leaves the briefing room. May takes a deep breath and follows before Grant can say anything—not that he has any idea what he could say.
There's something going on here, that much is obvious. The question is, what? And does it have anything to do with the fact that Coulson spent the last week locked in his office while the rest of them were on vacation? Or is Coulson just being practical? After all, in the last three weeks he's nearly lost Jemma, Fitz, and Grant, at one point or another. It's possible that Coulson's just being cautious, finally putting the safety of his team first.
But it doesn't seem likely.
The interview goes about as well as can be expected. Hutchins is obviously terrified out of her mind, and she blames herself for the accident. She claims that she wasn't angry at the people who were there on her lawn, yelling at her, because it's her fault that those four men are dead.
It takes a while, but Coulson eventually gets her out of her spiral of guilt long enough to get some information on the accident. She says that she had gotten reports about one of the coupling assemblies coming loose. Apparently, they replaced the part and made sure it wasn't damaged, and she wasn't able to find a problem. Obviously, she missed something, and it's easy to see why she blames herself.
Of course, it's less easy to see how she blames herself. Coulson manages to get out of her that she thinks she's being punished by God for letting those four men dies, and He's not protecting her. From demons. She honestly, truly believes that demons are causing all of the strange occurrences they've been attributing to possible telekinesis.
Coulson ends the interview pretty quickly after that revelation.
x
A few hours later, the team gathers in the briefing room to discuss the situation. After informing them that she and Fitz have yet to finish analyzing the accident, Jemma reports that all of the readings she's getting from Hutchins are normal—no sign of irregular brain activity, just the type of elevated heart rate and blood pressure one would expect from a woman who's locked in a cell. Skye's still in the process of her own research, and she makes a request to be allowed to speak to Hutchins. A request which is quickly denied.
Then, talk turns to Hutchins' claims of being tormented by demons. The general opinion is that Hutchins is delusional, broken by her own guilt, and Grant is glad to see that no one's considering demons as a viable explanation. It seems obvious to dismiss it, but with this team, he really never knows what to expect.
Luckily, this time the team has taken the reasonable, logical approach of assuming that demons are not behind the strange things that have been happening, and after instructing Jemma, Fitz, and Skye to pour over the accident, Coulson dismisses the briefing and leaves the room.
Skye chases after him, presumably to argue her case about speaking to Hutchins. For some reason, she's really latched on to the woman.
There's really not a lot for Grant to do, and he's starving, so he decides to make himself dinner. He'll eat, and then he'll drag Jemma and Fitz out of the lab and make them eat, too. He's pretty sure they never had lunch.
He amuses himself, as he gathers the makings of a BLT, with imagining exactly what kind of reaction the other specialists of his acquaintance would have to the information that these days, his job consists equally of shooting people and making sure his soulmate and her best friend don't starve to death. He figures most of them wouldn't believe it, especially since the soulmate and her best friend in question happen to be two of SHIELD's most famous scientists.
He puts some bacon in the microwave and is just taking out a cutting board to slice the tomato on when Skye appears from the direction of Coulson's office, muttering angrily about being denied permission to speak to Hutchins. She's also still angry at May for shooting Hutchins in the first place.
"It was the right call," Grant says mildly. "We needed to get out of there quickly, before the situation could escalate any further."
"But was shooting Hannah the only way to do that?" Skye demands, hopping up to sit on the counter. "May didn't even give Coulson a chance to calm Hannah down!"
"That crowd was ready to tear her apart," he reminds her. "And the car trying to run them over didn't help. Agent May made a judgment call."
"I just don't understand her at all," Skye complains. "Everything to her is just target acquired, threat eliminated."
Her robot voice brings to mind her habit of comparing him to a robot, and her frequent cracks about him not being human. Funny how her opinion on him has turned around so suddenly.
The microwave beeps, so Grant takes his tomato slices back over to the other counter. "Well, she's a specialist."
"In one thing," Skye protests, which…isn't true. He makes a mental note to spend more time going over the different classifications of agents with her, as apparently she has some misunderstandings on the topic of specialist work. "You can…catch a lot more flies with honey than with napalm. Just saying."
"Hand me the lettuce," Grant orders, holding out his hand for it.
"And she says I need to stay away," Skye says, hopping off the counter to hand him the lettuce. "But you know what I think? I think…she needs to get laid. Does she have a soulmate? Does she even have a soul?"
Grant sighs. He thinks knowing the truth about May and her soulmate might make Skye a little more sympathetic, but he knows May wouldn't thank him for sharing the information. Instead, he decides to caution Skye. As her SO, it's his job to make sure she doesn't do stupid things that will get her killed—and mouthing off like this certainly qualifies.
"Might wanna be less confrontational with Agent May," he advises. He knows Skye's just blowing off steam, but still, she needs to take it down about five notches.
"I'm not scared of her," Skye says at once. "Well, I am, but just because the Cavalry shot a hundred guys on horseback doesn't mean she knows how people work."
What?
He puts down the lettuce and turns to face Skye. "Wait, horseback? Where'd you hear that?"
"FitzSimmons," she says.
Grant pauses. He knows Jemma, for one, would never believe a story that ridiculous—seriously, horseback?—without proof, so there's no way she actually thinks it's true. Which means…she was messing with Skye. It's kind of an amateurish attempt, telling a story like that to one of the most talkative people on the team, someone who was sure to repeat the story quickly, but still. Jemma actually pranked Skye. And she was apparently convincing enough that Skye didn't question her account at all.
He's so proud.
"They were messing with you," he tells Skye. She looks away, obviously embarrassed, and he can't hide his amusement when he continues. "Story gets bigger every year. It wasn't a hundred guys, it was twenty. Trained assassins. May crossed 'em off with…one pistol. No support."
It's a lie, of course, since he's not supposed to know the truth, but it's a convincing one. This is the version he heard at the Academy, and it fits well enough with the very, very brief comments May made last week, when she was telling him about her own struggle with rage.
Besides, it amuses him, a little, to be tricking Skye the same way Jemma already has once today.
"She rescued a bunch of agents?" Skye asks.
"Mmhmm," he says, turning back to his sandwich. "And there definitely wasn't a horse." Seriously, how did she buy that? Especially from a liar as horrible as Jemma?
"Well if it went so well, why is she so squirrely about the name?"
"May's not in it for the glory," he says. "She got the job done, end of story."
And she was completely traumatized, but. Details. He looks around for the knife he used to slice the tomato. He could've sworn he left it on the counter next to him, but it's nowhere to be seen.
"Now what'd I do with that knife?" he asks.
"Losing your mind in your old age?" Skye taunts cheerfully. "I hear the memory's the first thing to go."
He rolls his eyes. Sometimes it's really hard to keep up with her moods. "Don't you have research to be doing?"
"Yeah, yeah," she says, pushing away from the counter. "I'll get off your lawn, gramps."
"Kids today have no respect," he calls after her.
He looks for the knife for a few minutes, but eventually gives up on finding it for the moment. He's starving. He'll look again once he's eaten.
x
He's just finishing his sandwich when Skye calls him over. She's actually found something. Apparently, one of the technicians who died in the explosion, a man named Tobias Ford, filed three safety complaints in Hutchins' department in the last month. Seems like he had it out for Hutchins, but unfortunately, he was right.
He tells Skye to keep looking and goes back to the kitchen, intending to do a more thorough search for the knife. It's really not safe to leave sharp objects lying around a plane; you never know when you're going to hit an inconvenient patch of turbulence.
He's just starting to get really frustrated—seriously, the kitchen is not that big, where the hell could he have put that knife?—when the power abruptly goes out. He has half a second to realize exactly what that means, then stumbles against the counter as the plane begins to lose altitude.
"What the hell?" Skye shouts.
He ignores her, running for the cockpit, and nearly knocks May off her feet when he runs into her outside her bunk. He doesn't bother to apologize, and she doesn't wait for one, just steadies herself and continues on her way.
"Ward, you certified?" she demands as they enter the cockpit.
He takes the copilot seat, letting that speak for itself, and they work on steadying the plane. The power's gone entirely, generators included, and there's no way to keep the Bus in the air, so they aim for a nearby field for emergency landing. Without power, vertical landing's out of the question, which means it's a bumpy ride.
He concentrates on keeping the plane as steady as possible, follows May's directions, and tries very, very hard not to think of Jemma, whose nightmares of falling from the plane have only just begun to lessen. He allows himself a moment to hope that she's securely strapped in, then pushes it away—along with the rage that's trying to build, the voice shouting in his head that these things don't just happen, someone's sabotaged the plane, was it that woman, if Hutchins has put them all in danger…
He shuts it down (the exact opposite of what May's been teaching him, but he doesn't have time for deep breathing right now) and focuses on getting the Bus on the ground.
It's a very rough landing, but they make it okay, and after waiting a moment to make sure that the plane is completely settled, they leave the cockpit.
They meet Coulson and Jemma in the briefing room, and Grant makes no attempt at professionalism, rushing to Jemma's side and taking her by the shoulders.
"Are you all right?" he asks, looking at her closely. It's hard to tell in the dim light, but she might be a bit pale.
"Yes, yes, I'm fine," she assures him distractedly, and he lets go of her shoulders. "Agent Coulson and I had enough time to get to the jump seats in the cargo bay. But I saw a ghost!"
What?
"Well, not a ghost, precisely," she corrects herself at once. "I know how that sounds, but—a man attacked me, and then he disappeared."
"Attacked—?" he begins, incensed, and she pats his arm comfortingly.
"I'm fine," she interrupts. "He tried to hit me with a wrench, but he missed. Not even a scratch, I promise. But he must've brought the plane down, somehow."
"Did you get a good look at him?" May asks.
Jemma gives her a withering look. "He dematerialized!"
Grant takes a deep breath, blocking out the ensuing conversation in favor of trying to rein in his temper. He can't draw on Jemma for calm, not in this. Looking at her can only make him angrier at the moment—she's so clearly rattled, as evidenced by her initial, uncharacteristic claim of seeing a ghost. Add that to her snapping at May and the way she's still holding on to his arm, her nails digging in to his sleeve, it's obvious she's upset.
And he really doesn't like it when Jemma's upset.
Of course, on top of that, the fact that this intruder, whoever the hell he is, actually tried to attack Jemma? He's struggling for calm, and every time he looks at Jemma it gets that much harder. Still, eventually he manages to push the rage down enough to focus on the conversation, just in time to get his orders.
"Ward," Coulson says. "Take your firearm. Escort FitzSimmons downstairs, assess the damage, get us up and running—"
"Wait," Jemma interrupts. "Guys, um. Where's Fitz?"
A quick look around proves that no, Fitz is not present, and Jemma is beginning to look a little panicked.
"We'll find him," he promises. "When did you last see him?"
"He went back into the storage area for magnetic couplings," she says. "You don't suppose…?"
"I'm sure he's fine," he says, although that's not good. The storage area is what they call the network of halls behind the lab, which contains a variety of storage closets, med pods, and various internal workings of the plane—including the avionics bays, which are likely to be the source of the problem. If this 'ghost' came across Fitz down there…
Still, Jemma looks reassured, so he must sound convincing enough. Coulson hands out walkie-talkies, since the inner-ear comms they usually use are relayed through the plane, and therefore currently useless, and then they go their separate ways.
He stops by his bunk to grab his sidearm, and Jemma finally lets go of him. On the one hand, that's good—he needs full range of motion, and he doesn't have that with Jemma holding on to his arm like that. On the other hand, apparently Jemma's touch was helping more than he thought it was, and his rage surges again when he loses that contact.
"Stay close," he warns, pushing it down, and they make for the cargo bay.
They cross the lab, heading for the door back to the storage area, and he stops in his tracks at the sight of the holotable, which is completely shattered. It looks like something very heavy hit the surface with a hell of a lot of a force, and he has a terrible suspicion that he knows what happened.
"Like I said," Jemma says quietly. "He missed."
He grits his teeth, trying not to picture what being struck with that kind of force could have done to Jemma. "Are you hurt?"
It comes out a lot sharper than he intends, and he takes a deep breath, focusing on acknowledging and letting go of the rage, the way May's been teaching him (since pushing it down is clearly failing). It's reasonable to be upset that Jemma's life has been threatened twice in the span of ten minutes, but it's not reasonable to take that out on her. He can use the rage against this ghost, whoever he is, and until then he can't give it any power.
It takes a few seconds of struggle, but he manages to regain his hold on his temper. He gives Jemma an apologetic look, and she shakes her head, dismissing it. She's been very patient with him this past week, mostly tolerating his occasional flashes of temper. She's only once snapped back at him, and he certainly deserved it. He's probably deserved it more than the once, actually, but that time he definitely did.
"I'm fine," she tells him. "I got out of the way in time, and he disappeared after he hit the holotable."
"Right," he says. He gives the holotable once last glance, then shakes it off. "Okay. Stay behind me."
Jemma nods in wordless agreement, and he leads the way into the storage area, keeping his gun and his flashlight up.
They've only been walking for a few minutes when they hear approaching footsteps, and he motions her back a little further. He carefully clicks the safety off of his gun—he'll need to shoot fast, before the 'ghost' can disappear again—but leaves his finger off the trigger.
It's a good thing he does, because the footsteps belong to Fitz—armed with what Grant's pretty sure is the knife he lost in the kitchen earlier—and he lowers his gun and clicks the safety back on as Jemma demands to know where Fitz has been. The answer, apparently, is 'locked in a closet', and Grant radios in to report they've found him while Jemma disabuses Fitz of the notion that they were the ones who locked him in.
"Good, we'll need him," May says. "Looks like the main problem is in Avionics Bay Two, but he took out all our systems."
"Who's she talking about?" Fitz asks, and Grant shushes him.
"Grab your equipment and get in there," May orders. "I'm going to power down flight controls to conserve energy, and then go defend the Cage door…in case this ghost comes knocking."
"Did she just say ghost?" Fitz asks dubiously.
Jemma gets him up to speed as they make their way towards avionics. Grant learns, listening to the explanation, that Jemma had time to find something from data on the explosion at the particle accelerator lab.
"It was like a window into…someplace else," she's telling Fitz as they round the second-to-last corner before avionics. "He thinks it's Hell, but I think it's an alien world. Fitz, it was stunning."
"Well, there were reports in London after the spaceship landed of multiple portals opening," Fitz muses. "Thor, passing between worlds."
Grant shines his flashlight down a connecting hall, but there's no sign of movement, so he keeps going. "You think that's what they were researching at that lab?"
Reports were sketchy on the exact nature of the experiment, the owners of the lab—StatiCorp—refusing to share the information without a warrant. Grant knows Coulson was working on it this afternoon, but it seems pretty pointless now.
"Trying to create another portal, yes," Jemma says brightly. She's looking a lot more cheerful, now that Fitz has been found, and it's helping him a bit in his efforts to restrain his anger. It's still difficult, though, and Grant silently promises to dedicate himself to May's lessons. He can't afford to be distracted from the need to be on guard for this ghost by his anger that the man made it on to the plane in the first place.
"Failing," Fitz realizes. "Until a malfunction produced a burst of energy."
"This ghost is a man trapped between our universe and another," Jemma says. "Perhaps that's how all ghosts are! It's a simple explanation, really."
"Simple would be a relative term, in this case," he comments, but he's glad to hear her returning to her scientific approach. It was worrying, earlier, that her first mention of the man included the word 'ghost'—normally something she would scoff at.
They've reached Avionics Bay Two, and he pauses outside of the door, motioning Jemma and Fitz back a bit. He pulls the door open and moves to block the doorway, gun at the ready, but upon inspection it's completely empty.
He moves back so that Jemma and Fitz can get a good look at the power box, the wires of which have been completely torn out. He has a feeling this isn't going to be a quick fix, and in the meantime, they're dealing with a disappearing man who has already tried to attack Jemma once. And locked Fitz in a closet.
Grant tries not to think too longingly of the hotel in LA.
"Well, he was thorough," Jemma comments as Fitz swears.
There's a clang of metal on metal from somewhere nearby, and Grant whirls around, gun at the ready, while Jemma and Fitz jump.
"Plane's on uneven ground," he tells them, but he keeps his eyes on the dark hallway, scanning for movement. "It could just be settling."
"Or the other thing," Fitz says, and Grant looks over his shoulder at him.
He hesitates briefly, torn between staying here to guard them and going to check on the source of the noise. He needs to take out this 'ghost' before he can do any more damage, but he really doesn't want to leave Fitz and Jemma here alone.
He knows what he should do. If Jemma weren't his soulmate he'd already be gone. But it's not easy.
He takes a deep breath and motions toward the open door. "Get to work. Yell if you need me."
They nod, and he steels himself and walks away. He keeps his guard up as he checks the two closest hallways, but there's no sign of any intruder, or anything on the ground that might have caused that noise, and after a moment he feels confident dismissing it as just the plane settling.
However, he's no sooner called out to Jemma and Fitz that the hallway is clear than he hears them shouting, and he rushes back to their hallway. It's empty; there's no sign of the intruder, but he can hear Jemma and Fitz in the closet, yelling for help. Before he can move to let them out, though, something suddenly strikes his arm, knocking his gun out of his hand and pushing him into the wall. He turns and lunges for the man, but he disappears before Grant can reach him.
There's another clang, further down the hallway, and Grant hisses for Jemma and Fitz to be quiet.
He hates to leave them there, but at least he knows where they are and that they're safe for the moment. It'll be easier to fight this 'ghost' if he doesn't have to worry about watching Jemma and Fitz's backs.
He heads down the hallway, keeping his guard up, but whether or not the intruder caused the initial noise, the plane is obviously settling, and the constant creaking makes it difficult to listen for footsteps. If there would even be any from a man who keeps disappearing.
He comes to a hallway intersection and turns around. He's about to go back for his gun—why the hell didn't he pick it up? Rookie move—when something hits him, hard, and he spins around to find himself faced with a man that must be the ghost. He looks strangely familiar, but he doesn't have time to puzzle it out as the ghost swings what he thinks is a wrench at him.
He struggles against the ghost briefly, gaining and losing and regaining the upper hand, but before he can knock him out, the ghost disappears.
That's really starting to piss him off.
Before he can do more than look around in frustration, though, he hears Jemma scream. He runs for the closet, heart in his throat and rage burning once again in his veins. He barely remembers to grab his gun on the way past, and throws open the door ready to shoot the ghost at least twelve times.
There's no sign of the ghost in the closet, though. He registers that Jemma looks unharmed, and then there's a sharp pain on the back of his skull and everything goes black.
x
The first thing he notices is that his head is killing him. The next thing he registers is the touch of soft hands—one on his face, one on his shoulder. After a moment he realizes they're Jemma's hands, and manages to extrapolate from that that the lap his head is resting in is probably hers.
"There he is," Jemma says quietly, plainly relieved, and he forces his eyes open.
"What happened?" he asks, still a little dazed. He's finding it very difficult to think and that, combined with the way his head is throbbing, makes it obvious that he's sustained some kind of head injury.
"Well, we lost communication," Jemma says, helping him sit up. "And you were hit with a very large plumber's wrench."
That brings it all rushing back.
"A wrench?" he asks, twisting a little to look at her, which, ouch.
"Yeah."
"That guy's traveling forth between alien worlds," he says. "With a wrench?"
"Must have been in his hand when the blast hit," suggests Fitz, who's hovering over him, looking worried.
Now, there's a thought. Hutchins said that they checked and rechecked that coupling, but couldn't find anything wrong. Yet, something obviously was wrong, since the particle accelerator exploded. So…
"Not the kind of wrench you would use to loosen a coupling, is it?" he asks.
Fitz looks at Jemma, eyes wide, but before either one of them can say anything, there's a burst of static from the walkie-talkie on the ground.
"You there?" Coulson asks. Fitz quickly grabs the walkie-talkie and hands it to Grant. "Maybe it doesn't work after all."
"Uh, yes, yes, we're here, sir," Grant says. He remembers what Jemma said about losing communication and asks, "Where'd you go?"
"Nowhere," Coulson says. "We were attacked, locked in. Then the guy disappeared."
"Hey, that's our story," Fitz says.
"Is May with you guys?" Skye asks.
"She isn't with you?" Jemma asks, leaning down to speak into the walkie-talkie.
There's a long moment of silence, which Grant takes as a no.
"Our ghost smashed our walkie-talkie," Coulson finally says. "When was the last you heard from her?"
"About twenty minutes ago, when we updated her on the situation," Jemma answers.
"We missed the update," Skye says. "So…update again, please."
"Our ghost is passing between worlds, and less of him is coming back every time," Jemma explains. "If we wait him out, he may cease returning at all."
"And was that all you told May?" Coulson presses.
Jemma and Fitz exchange a look, then his eyes go wide.
"She asked us why he was after us," he says. "We told her it was because he can't get to Hannah. You don't think she—?"
"Took Hannah out of the Cage and off the Bus to draw the ghost out?" Coulson finishes. "Yeah, that sounds about right."
"She's using Hannah as bait," Skye realizes. She doesn't sound happy about it, but she also doesn't sound as angry as Grant would have expected, considering her attitude earlier. "Well that's just…awesome."
"Well there's not much we can do about it," Fitz points out. "We're all locked in."
"Yeah," Coulson says. "Good point."
They fall into silence, and Grant suddenly remembers the events just before he was knocked out. He turns to look at Jemma, which luckily hurts a little less this time.
"Are you okay?" he asks. "I heard you scream."
He looks her over, but to his relief there's no sign of injury.
"Oh, I'm fine," she says. "He just scared me, that's all."
"Good," he says. He's not crazy about her being scared, obviously, but it's better than being hurt.
Actually, he would have expected himself to be furious right now, just from knowing she was frightened, but he's weirdly calm. It's hard to work up any rage when his head is in agony, he guesses.
Too bad head injuries aren't a workable long-term solution to the whole berserker staff thing, because it's very helpful not to have to struggle with his rage while he's trying to think of a way to get out of this situation.
What does he know? They've got a ghost who wants to kill a woman they've taken into custody. He hasn't actually hurt any of them, aside from knocking Grant out, but he's shown that he's not too fussed about causing damage. He brought down the plane, smashed the holotable, and cut off their means of communication—wait.
"Sir," he says, activating the walkie-talkie. "I thought you said he smashed your walkie-talkie."
"He did," Coulson says.
"Then…how are you talking to us?" he asks.
"Walkie-talkie wristwatch," Coulson says, a little proudly. "They only made twenty, I think."
Right. He keeps forgetting that Coulson's a pack-rat.
"Wait," Fitz says. "We can use that."
"We can?" Skye asks. "How?"
Fitz's plan is to overload the walkie-talkie wristwatch and use it as a trigger for a small explosion, which can be caused by another of Coulson's useless pieces of junk. Well, not so useless today, obviously, but whatever. Coulson hesitates over it, but eventually his duty wins out over his sentimentalism, and he follows Fitz's instructions in setting up the explosive using the walkie-talkie wristwatch and an exploding pen.
The plan works perfectly, and less than five minutes later, Coulson unlocks the door and lets them out of the room.
"Did you notice what our ghost was carrying?" Fitz asks as Jemma helps Grant up. He's feeling a little steadier, but his head is still killing him, and his vision swims for a moment.
"A wrench," Skye says.
"A plumber's wrench," Jemma corrects. She gives him a worried look, and he tries to smile reassuringly, pulling away from her a bit to show that he doesn't need her help walking. "The kind that can be used to loosen couplings, for instance."
"That fits," Skye says, exchanging a look with Coulson. "Actually, it explains a lot."
"So we believe that this man is responsible for the blast?" Fitz checks, as they begin navigating their way out of the storage area.
"Skye says she thinks he's the worker who filed all the reports," Coulson says.
"Tobias Ford," Skye supplies. "It looks like him."
Grant knew the guy looked familiar. He can't believe he didn't recognize him—Skye showed him that picture literally minutes before the Bus went down. Although, to be fair, he was trying to keep Ford from knocking his head off with a plumber's wrench.
"It makes no sense for a man to complain about safety issues whilst causing them," Jemma points out. "Another theory is—"
"Theories don't matter, only facts," Grant interrupts, then winces. Okay, apparently the anger isn't as gone as he thought it was. Still, they don't have time to debate Ford's motivations. He tries to make his voice gentler when he continues, "And the fact is, a bullet will take you out of whatever world you're in."
Jemma turns to give him a look, and he shrugs apologetically. She rolls her eyes and turns away again, and he sighs. He is really, truly itching to put a bullet or two in Ford. He tries to shake that off as he realizes they really have no idea where they're going.
"Any idea which direction May could've taken her?" he asks.
"We'll deploy the golden retrievers," Jemma says, moving to open the storage closet they're just passing. "They're in here."
She opens the door, and something falls out of the closet. Grant instantly dismisses it as not a threat—it's just a balloon tied to a mop—but the rest of the team jumps, obviously startled. Fitz even screams.
"Fitz!" Jemma shouts. "This is no time for childish nonsense like this!"
"Pranking was your idea," Fitz defends. "And, obviously, I rigged this little beauty before I knew there was a dimension-jumping psychopath in the mix."
"Wait, childish," Skye says. "This guy is childish."
They wait expectantly, but Skye doesn't continue.
"What are you getting at?" Coulson asks.
They really don't have time for this.
"Jemma," Grant says, nudging her. "The golden retrievers?"
"Yes, right," she says. She goes into the closet and pulls a black case from one of the shelves. "Here they are."
"I'll take that," Fitz says. He looks at Coulson. "We need to deploy them outside."
"Let's go," Coulson orders.
As head towards the cargo bay, Jemma asks, "What were you saying, Skye?"
Skye explains that she thinks Ford filed all of those complaints because he wanted Hutchins' attention, because he had a crush on her. It does fit, actually—all of the unusual events that made them consider the possibility of telekinesis were in response to threats against Hutchins: she was being harassed at the gas station and the cop car went after them when they tried to take her in. It even fits the way he hasn't really harmed the team—aside from Grant, but to be fair, he could have done a lot worse that knock Grant out.
He's not trying to hurt anyone, he's just trying to protect Hutchins.
Coulson lowers the cargo bay ramp, and Fitz kneels at the bottom of it to deploy his 'golden retrievers'—little flying robots that can track people down. They scatter in all directions, and it's not long before Fitz's tablet beeps.
"Got 'em," he says. "They're in a barn, half a mile to the southwest."
"Great," Coulson says. "Can we use that tablet to find them?"
"Yeah."
"Okay," Coulson says, taking the tablet. "Ward, Skye, you're with me. We'll go after May and Hutchins. FitzSimmons, work on getting the power back online."
"Right," Jemma says.
"On it," Fitz agrees.
Grant hesitates for a moment, but there's no reason to think they'll be in danger. After all, Ford wants Hutchins, and Hutchins is in the barn. There's nothing on the Bus to attract his attention, or they would've seen him by now.
"Be careful," he says to Jemma, and she nods.
"You, too."
Progress to the barn isn't as fast as Grant would like; they're pretty much surrounded by forest, and they keep having to alter their path to avoid trees. Still, they get there soon enough, and Grant takes point, entering the barn with his gun drawn.
It turns out to be unnecessary, though. Ford is on his knees in front of Hutchins and May, making no move to attack either one of them, and May is speaking to him softly, telling him to let Hutchins go. He takes Hutchins' hand and holds it while May speaks, and for a minute Grant thinks they're going to have to kill him after all, but finally he closes his eyes and disappears.
Skye runs forward to hug Hutchins, and Grant does a quick sweep of the barn, just to be sure that Ford is really gone. There's no sign of him anywhere, and considering the scene they walked in on, Grant's pretty confident in assuming that they've seen the last of the guy.
He's not wearing a holster, so he tucks his sidearm into the waistband of his jeans, then turns to face the rest of the team. May is leaving the barn, apparently done with the whole situation, and Skye prods Hutchins into following her.
"We done here?" Coulson asks him.
"Looks like," Grant says. He gives Coulson a sideways look, seeing that he's empty-handed. "What did you do with Fitz's tablet?"
"Dropped it out there," Coulson answers, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the door.
Grant starts walking. "When you say dropped…?"
"I'm sure it's fine," Coulson says dismissively. "It's field equipment, it's meant to last."
Not when it's dropped face down onto a rock, it's not, and they find the tablet with the screen badly cracked. Coulson examines it for a moment, then shrugs.
"Oh, well. He's got plenty of tablets."
Grant raises an eyebrow at Coulson as they follow the others back towards the field where the Bus is parked.
"That wouldn't happen to be payback for your pen and your watch, would it, sir?"
"No idea what you're talking about, Ward," Coulson says innocently. "No idea at all."
It's the least convincing display he's seen since the last time Jemma tried to lie to him, but he lets it go. Fitz's reaction is going to be hilarious, and after the day he's had, Grant could use a laugh. Most of his rage has subsided for the moment, snapping aside, but he's still a little angry that he didn't get to shoot Ford. He might not have been after Hutchins to kill her, but Ford still caused them a lot of problems—including pulling their plane right out of the sky. Grant wishes he'd gotten the opportunity to at least maim the guy.
They make it back to the Bus to find that the power's still out. Jemma and Fitz are nowhere in sight, presumably working on the problem, and Coulson leaves the broken tablet on one of the lab tables and heads upstairs. Grant hits the button to raise the cargo ramp—no sense inviting anyone else to wander onto the plane, after all—and then makes his way back to avionics. He's not really comfortable leaving Fitz and Jemma alone down here, after everything that's happened today.
He hears them before he reaches them. They're maintaining a constant stream of dialogue about possible scientific explanations for other supernatural phenomena, debating the likelihood that all (or even most) ghosts are just people caught between dimensions, and discussing the repair work they're doing, all at once. He shakes his head; it's honestly impressive, the way the two of them can talk so much.
Still, it's something he finds calming. It brings to mind the hours he's spent in the lab, sitting in a corner and reading a book while Jemma and Fitz go about their work. So he leans in the doorway and listens to their conversation, watching them repair the wiring that Ford literally pulled out of the wall, and lets himself be soothed.
By the time they finish it up, nearly fifteen minutes later, he's confident that he's gotten all of his anger under control. He won't be snapping at anyone else tonight—at least, not as long as nothing else happens.
He wishes, for about the millionth time, that some other team got that mission in Norway. Grant's got plenty of things to worry about without adding an inability to control his temper to the mix.
"That should do it," Fitz says, pulling Grant out of his thoughts.
He pushes away from the door and leaves as silently as he came, heading upstairs. There's no need for them to know he's been hovering—Fitz tends to get a bit sensitive about that sometimes. He takes the ladder up, rather than going back out to the cargo bay to take the stairs, and the lights come on just as he reaches the top. Skye's closing the door to her bunk, and he assumes that she's letting Hutchins sleep in it, since they don't exactly have a guest room.
Speaking of Hutchins, he wonders what Coulson's planning to do with her. There's no need to take her to the Fridge, since they know she's not telekinetic, but it's not like her community is likely to believe the truth about what really happened—they'd just think she's trying to push the blame off on someone else. He makes an absent offer to help Hutchins if she needs it, then goes to search out May and see if she knows what the plan is.
She's in the cockpit, of course, checking to make sure all of the flight controls are back online and fully functional. Since she's busy, he gets straight to the point.
"What are we doing with Hutchins?"
"Taking her to stay with her mother," May answers without looking away from her displays. "Coulson figures it's the least we can do."
Grant has to disagree with that—it's not like it's their fault Hutchins was being stalked—but whatever. Everyone's alive and safe and the Bus is back in working order. His job is done for the day.
He thinks about asking where exactly Hutchins' mother lives, but May's busy and he doesn't want to bother her anymore. The case is closed and the mission's over; he doesn't really care where they're going next, since there's nothing he'll have to do there. Instead he just leaves her be.
He drops his gun off in his bunk, then goes out to the lounge and has a seat on the couch. His head is still aching, badly enough that he's considering taking something for it. 'Something' meaning Tylenol, of course. As nice as an industrial-strength painkiller would be, he really can't risk the loss of control. Not just of his rage, but of his mouth.
He hasn't had anything stronger than a local anesthetic since he signed up for SHIELD, for fear of letting his true loyalties out. It's been inconvenient and often painful, but it's better than letting anyone know he's a HYDRA plant.
He's pulled out of his thoughts by Jemma taking a seat next to him, and he lifts his arm so she can cuddle against him, then wraps it around her shoulders. He wonders, not for the first time, just how badly she was affected by the Bus' emergency landing.
He doesn't bring it up, though. If he asks now she'll probably just brush it off. Questions like that can wait until they go to bed.
"So," he says instead. "A horse?"
Jemma freezes. "You…heard about that?"
"Yeah," he says. He tries to sound stern, but he's pretty sure his amusement leaks through. "Skye told me your little story."
"It occurred to us, this afternoon, that Skye missed out on the Academy," she explains. "And therefore missed out on the traditional freshman pranking."
"And you decided to share that with her," he says. "Out of the kindness of your hearts."
"Exactly," she agrees, pleased.
"I can't believe she actually bought that," he says, unable to keep from laughing. "A horse, really?"
She joins in on his laughter. "And I'm usually such a terrible liar!"
"A horse," he says again. He really can't get past that.
Once their laughter dies down, Jemma straightens and gives him a serious look.
"How's your head?" she asks.
"Fine," he says. "No permanent damage."
"No?"
"No," he promises. "Not even a concussion."
"And I suppose you have plenty of experience with those," Jemma grumbles, but she leans against him again, apparently willing to take his word for it.
"Unfortunately, yes," he says. "I really do."
"Well that's what you get for being a specialist," she says primly. "I've never been concussed."
He thinks of pointing out that he's never been infected with an alien virus, but it's a little soon to be joking about that.
"Not that it would matter," he says instead. "You've got plenty of brain cells to spare."
"Try to be more careful," she teases. "You, after all, don't."
"Oh, don't I?" he asks, leaning down to kiss her. Before he can, however, they're interrupted.
"That is not a professional conversation," Skye announces as she drops into one of the recliners. "I'm telling."
He sighs. "How old are you again?"
"Younger than you," she says smugly. "Now stop snuggling, we're playing Scrabble."
"Are we?" he asks, looking pointedly at her empty hands.
"We are," Coulson confirms, dropping the box onto the table.
Jemma sighs and pulls away from him, moving to the nearest recliner. They haven't been allowed to play as a team since the Pictionary debacle, which is a shame, since Jemma kills at Scrabble. Still, one of these days he's determined to beat her, so he leans forward and helps Coulson unpack the game.
Technically, the board they're using is from a game called UpWords, which involves stacking letters on top of each other to form new words. They all agree, however, that they prefer Scrabble, so they just use the UpWords board and play with Scrabble rules and scoring. It would be easier to use an actual game of Scrabble, but the UpWords has the advantage of the pieces actually snapping into place on the board, which is useful when one is playing on a plane.
(Coulson seems to be back to normal, cracking his usual terrible jokes, and his decision to fly Hutchins to see her mother seems a lot more in character than his earlier behavior. It's possible he was just having a bad day, but Grant still resolves to keep an eye on him for a while.)
Skye keeps a tablet close at hand in case of word challenges, and it gets a lot of use. Grant tries to argue against the English only rule, which gets enacted in the second round, but he gets outvoted, and he takes petty revenge by challenging every word he doesn't recognize.
He takes it easier on Jemma, of course, but eventually she plays a word that he really can't let go.
"That isn't a word in our language," he says, staring at the board. Aglet? No way.
"I've never heard of it," Coulson agrees.
"I'm checking," Skye says.
"Our language?" Jemma demands. "You mean the English language, first spoken in England?"
"Aglet," Skye reads. "A plastic or metal tube covering the end of a shoelace."
"Oh, come on," Coulson says.
"She used her Britishness against us," Grant complains as Skye laughs and Jemma sits back smugly. (He has always wondered what those things are called, though.)
They're distracted from the topic of aglets when Fitz walks up. He's got what looks like shaving cream all over his face, and Grant has no hope of holding back his laughter. Neither does anyone else, and Jemma laughs the loudest.
"It's not funny," Fitz says. They all stop laughing. "I was sleeping. Peacefully."
That brings the laughter right back, and Fitz turns his head to glare at Jemma.
"Very clever, Simmons."
She claims innocence, as does Grant. So do Coulson and Skye. None of them are particularly convincing, since they can barely stop laughing long enough to defend themselves from Fitz's accusations, and eventually he storms off in a huff.
"Seriously, though," Skye says when he's gone. "Who was it?"
Grant takes a look around. No one's looking guilty, or even smug.
"Well, it had to be one of us," Skye continues. "It's not like there are any other options."
There's a long moment of silence, as all of them seem to consider the missing member of their team. They exchange thoughtful looks.
"No," Skye says. "No way."
"Maybe it was Hannah," Jemma suggests.
They all laugh, and the mystery is dismissed in favor of continuing the game.
x
Jemma wins, of course, but Grant comes in a close second, so he's happy. Once they've cleaned up the board, Coulson tells them that they'll be dropping Hutchins off sometime around three a.m., Bus time, and if they don't want to say goodbye, they're welcome to go to sleep.
Grant, having formed no particular emotional attachment to their guest, is very much in favor of this plan. A glance at Jemma shows that she is, too. They wish Coulson and Skye goodnight, ignoring the pointed look they get from the latter, and twenty minutes later they're climbing into Grant's bed.
Jemma takes the side nearest the door, as usual, and he lifts her hand from his chest to kiss her timer.
"You okay?" he asks. "After…"
"After our emergency landing?" she supplies when he hesitates. "I'm fine. Really. I can't say it wasn't frightening, but an emergency landing is hardly the same thing as freefalling. It wasn't fun, but I'm fine."
She actually sounds it, too. "Good," he says quietly. "I'm glad. And I'm sorry for…snapping."
"That's all right," she says, curling a little closer to him. "I know you're trying very hard to keep it under control, but it's only been a week, and it was a stressful situation."
"Our lives are nothing but stressful situations," he points out a little cynically, though the easy forgiveness does make him feel better.
Jemma rubs her hand across his chest. "This isn't stressful."
"No," he agrees, pressing a kiss to her hair. "It's not." Then, because he's pretty sure he hasn't said it today, he adds, "I love you."
"I love you, too," she says, a little drowsily.
Her breathing soon evens out as she falls asleep, but he stays awake for a while, stroking her hair and staring at the ceiling. With Jemma so close, peacefully sleeping in his arms, he should be perfectly calm. The seething rage in his chest has dwindled nearly to nothing. There's no danger left on the Bus. Jemma's safe. Fitz is safe. Skye and May and Coulson are safe.
And yet, instead of peace, all he feels is a kind of creeping dread.
A/N: Credit to sarahspoh for the idea that the team is only using the UpWords board because the pieces stay in place better. I seriously have no idea how that game even works, so thank you!