A/N: I KNOW. I said a few days and it was like twenty days and that makes me the worst. BUT it's here now and it's a lot longer than it was. Much longer. Longest chapter yet, actually. And I didn't even mess with splitting it up because you deserve it after the terribly long wait I put you through. (also sorry it's spaced a little weirdly? Evernote really likes to do it's own thing re: formatting sometimes)

Thank you all so so much for your kind words/reviews/reblogs/follows/asks/favorites/kudos/subscriptions/bookmarks, etc. You have no idea the degree to which you give me life, you glorious gems.

As always, if you want Skimmons!Music, the playlist continues to grow. Send me a message/ask/whatever and I will supply you with a dandy Spotify link.

Okay. Enough talk. You all rule. 3

Chapter 5: Should've

I've hardly unbuckled my seatbelt when May opens the massive cargo door and Dr. Banner begins walking up the loading ramp and into the plane. He's got a bag slung over his shoulder and he looks a bit…rumpled, for lack of a better word.

I hear Coulson come up behind me.

"Didn't expect to see you here so soon, Banner."

Dr. Banner takes off his sunglasses and pockets them. He smirks at Coulson, "Didn't expect to see you at all, Coulson." He quirks an eyebrow, "Aren't you supposed to be dead?"

If Coulson is thrown by Banner's statement, he doesn't show it.

"You can't tell the others."

"I know," Banner sighs dramatically, "I'm the keeper of many S.H.I.E.L.D. secrets. What's one more?"

"Is that right? Where do you store them all?"

"My hair, mostly. My diary, if it gets full."

Coulson cracks a smile. "It's good to see you, Banner."

Banner flashes a winning smile and extends his hand to shake Coulson's. "Likewise, Coulson."

Gesturing for Banner to follow him, Coulson heads up the steps. "Thanks for coming on such short notice," he throws over his shoulder as Banner trails behind him. "But how did you get up here so quickly? My people just had you on the phone a little over an hour ago."

"Hawkeye let me borrow the Sky-Cycle. Which was generous," he sighs, "though ultimately more of a curse than a blessing. It's fast, but it's not what I'd call 'luxe'."
-

"So you don't have any idea what it is?" Fitz's tone is almost accusatory as he addresses Dr. Banner.

We're all in the conference room, gathered around the table whilst Banner pulls my work up on the screen, inspecting it carefully but only muttering a few "hmmms" along with the occasional, "I've never seen that."

At Fitz's interruption (which earns him a swift blow to the back of the head, courtesy of Skye), Banner turns around to face us.

"As it turns out, no." He scratches his head, perplexed. "I have no idea what it is. Not without seeing it or where it came from."

Skye looks at him in a way that can only be described as 'glaring'.

Banner turns to me, "Jemma, I'll need you out in the field with me. If we can-"

"What? No," Skye cuts in, her eyes wide and her features furious, "she can't go out in the field. What if something happens?"

It's silent for a moment as everyone simply looks at Skye, surprised by her outburst and unsure how to respond.

Irritated, Skye huffs, "Well?"

When no one else says anything, I jump in. "Skye, it'll-"

She cuts me off, holding a hand up to silence me. "Not now, Simmons. "

I'm a little offended at that, but decide against challenging her at this particular moment.

Banner decides to step in cautiously. "I'll make sure nothing happens, Skye."

Fitz jumps in, too. "Don't worry, Skye. Dr. Banner has more P.h.D's than Simmons and I combined. If there's anyone qualified to handle an emergency in the field, it's him."

I silently thank Fitz for backing me up.

"Besides," he continues, "we ought to do everything can to find our what's going on with the fainting goat."

It takes me a moment to realise that he's referring to me, but when I do, I send him a glare that gives May a run for her money.

Ignoring Skye's protests, Coulson leans forward in his chair. "May, take Banner and Simmons to the site. Maybe we can shed a little light on this once we see where it came from." He turns to Ward, "You're with me. We're going to talk to the hikers who found the fungus and see what they know."

"What about us?" Fitz gestures to himself and Skye.

"You two stay on the bus."

Skye opens her mouth to say something, but Coulson silences her with a look. "Skye, I need you to dig around online and see if you can find anything about other sightings of strange fungi."

She rolls her eyes but nods.

"Good," he turns to the rest of us. "Everyone: get what you need and let's get moving."

In the lab, Banner and I are packing field cases with everything we might need. Fitz is sitting on a stool in the corner, sulking.

"What am I supposed to do?"

I feel badly that he feels left out, but if I'm honest, I'm excited to work with Dr. Banner. He's a legend, even outside of the whole Hulk thing. I'm sure he's forgotten more about radiation than I'm ever likely to know.

Nearly ready, I slip into the small storage room off the lab to grab my parka. I nearly jump out of my skin when I turn around to find Skye leaning on the door frame.

"Jesus. You-"

"Be careful. Please."

She's not looking at me. Her eyes are glued to the floor, her mouth set in a hard line.

"Honestly, Skye, I-"

Fitz appears in the doorway then, oblivious to the fact that he's interrupting.

"Simmons," he says, "where we put those kinetic charges? I can't find the damned things anywhere."

With a tight-lipped smile, Skye straightens and shoves one of her hands in her pocket, barely looking up from the ground as she turns and walks away

Before I can call after her, May appears behind Fitz.

"Parka on, Simmons. Let's go."

I do as I'm told, pulling on my parka as May rolls her eyes and walks away, leaving Banner in the doorway.

"You may want to put on an extra layer," he's smirking like a big brother who's just found his little sister scribbling hearts in her journal. "Just in case that blush eventually wears off."

We've been walking through the woods for what seems like ages. Judging by the sun's position in the sky, it's been less than two hours.

May's leading the charge through the forest, preferring to lone wolf-it as much as she can. She's just barely staying in sigh and within earshot of Dr. Banner and I as we follow her trail.

After a bit of pleasant banter here and there, we've fallen into a comfortable silence as we make our way through the trees. That is, until Dr. Banner breaks it.

"Coulson's changed quite a bit. Seems like dying did him some good."

"Hmm?" I sidestep a wayward root that threatens to trip me. "I wouldn't know. I didn't meet him until after he…well, I only met him a few months ago."

Banner nods, ducking under a branch.

"He used to be very by-the-book. It's good to see he's lightened up."

I frown, not sure what he might be referring to. "How do you mean?"

"You and Skye," he says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

I fail to sidestep the next tree root that comes my way and trip right the hell over it.

When I recover, I sputter a few fragmented protests before finally choking out a weak, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Obviously," Banner chuckles, shaking his head as he starts walking again.

"What do you mean 'obviously'?"

"Nothing," Banner smirks in response. " I think the site should be close. Just beyond the-"

The rest of his words are drowned out by the return of the sound of blood rushing through my veins. I stagger backwards, trying and failing to suck in air as I legs give way. Every one of my muscles is tense and on fire as I lay pathetically in the snow. Banner is beside me almost immediately, trying to say something.

It's no use, though. I can't hear a word he's saying.

I will myself to stay calm, trying to regain control of my lungs and reign my panic. 'It'll be over in a few seconds,' I think.

And it is, in a way. All at once, my senses snap to attention. My vision focuses and my hearing is suddenly clearer than ever. My muscles relax, but are now buzzing with an almost electric energy.

I rise to my feet with one fluid motion. My body feels somehow lighter, but I feel…stronger. I can feel my brain and my body synching up perfectly. It's simultaneously exhilarating and frightening-like being in the passenger seat of a Formula One car with no brakes.

I can feel my heart rate increase as my panic makes a reappearance. Banner stands up slowly, eyeing me cautiously.

"You alright, Simmons?" he asks.

I nod, "Yeah, yeah. Just fine." Lying has never been a talent of mine, but I'm hoping desperately that perception isn't one of his.

He's opening his mouth to say something when the sound of branches snapping interrupts him.

Without permission from my brain, my body kicks into high gear. My legs bend and then extend with explosive power, propelling me upwards as my hands reach out to grab a limb that hangs at least twenty-five feet off of the forest floor. Once I'm up there, though, whatever got me up here abandons me and I have no idea what to do. My body and my brain slow down, returning to a normal, less intense version of themselves.

I risk a glance down to find Banner looking up at me with an eyebrow raised. "You alright?" he asks, as a squirrel (the branch-snapping culprit, I suspect) hops across the trail that we've cleared.

Dangling there, with no idea how I'm going to get down, I blow out a heavy sigh.

"Yeah," I respond. "Peachy."

I'm about to ask him how he supposes I should get down when another voice joins the mix.

"Jemma? Jesus Christ, what are you doing up there?" Skye's voice drifts up through the cold air. I follow the sound to see her standing about twenty feet behind Banner.

"Skye? What are you-" I decide to abandon that particular stupid question in favor of a more pressing one. "Forget it. Any suggestions regarding an exit strategy?"

Skye and Banner are bickering below me. I'm doing my best to keep my eyes closed so as to avoid looking down. I may not be able to see them, but it'd be damn near impossible not to hear them.

"What do you mean she 'just jumped up there'? It's twenty feet in the air!" Skye sounds less than pleased

"Feels a bit more like thirty now, if we're being honest." My voice is strained as I struggle to hold onto the massive branch.

"I'm as surprised as you are, honestly," Banner defends, "but that's how it went down. Or up, rather." He chuckles at his own pun.

"Clever." She doesn't sound like she thought it was clever. "Any suggestions on how to get to her down?"

I hear May's voice join the mix before Banner can respond.

"I told you two to keep up or call out if you found something." She pauses then continues, "What are you doing here? And what the hell is Simmons doing in the tree?"

That's when I hear Fitz stumble through the trees as he reaches the others.

"Finally," he gasps. "It's miserable out here. You three covered an impressive amount of ground."

"Do you not understand the meaning of the words 'stay on the bus?'" May's voice is a perfect blend of irritation and disinterest.

"Well I didn't want to be alone in the big plane," Fitz defends. "It's spooky when it's empty." It's silent as I assume everyone rolls their eyes in unison.

"So," he continues, "where's Jemma?"

I chance a look down to see Skye, May and Banner pointing up at me. He's shockingly cavalier when he finally sees me.

"Well well," he chuckles, "I'm going to go out on a limb and say this wasn't intentional."

"Okay. 3..2..1!"

Nothing happens. I can't seem to make my fingers loosen from around the branch.

"I'm sorry, guys," I say, "I can't do it. It's too high."

"Jemma, we'll be right here. If anything happens…" Skye trails off, clearly not knowing what they'd do if anything happened. Very encouraging.

"We'll take care of it," Banner fills in. "Nothing to worry about."

I nod, not that they can see it.

May starts counting down again. "3…2…1."

This time, I manage to let go. My breath catches in my throat as I fall, but before I have time to scream, I barrel unceremoniously into the ground, landing roughly on my back.

They all gather round immediately, inspecting the damage.

"Alright, Jemma?" Fitz asks.

I can only manage a groan in response, closing my eyes tightly.

"Everything looks fine," Banner observes, checking my eyes and waving a gloved finger in front of my face. "Can you stand?"

If I hadn't just had the wind completely knocked out of me, I'd scoff at his 'everything looks fine' diagnosis. Before I can even attempt to protest his request that I stand, I feel someone tug one of my glove off. A small, cold and decidedly feminine hand slips into mine.

Momentarily forgetting the pain radiating through my back, I silently hope that it's not May's hand.

With no effort on my part, I'm on my feet in the next second, standing unsteadily.

"Whoa there," Skye holds onto me as I wobble slightly. Her right hand snakes around my back, coming to rest just below my shoulder blade whilst her left falls just above my hip. Suddenly feeling lightheaded, I reach out and steady myself with my hands on her arms, just above her elbows.

"You're alright," she says distractedly, in the way that most people say things when they're just filling up space. I am alright, I think. But she didn't say it because it was the truth; she said it because she accidentally looked me in the eyes for the first time since last night. Even though my lids are heavy and my vision is slightly unfocused, I know that my eyes are saying things I'd never planned to say out loud. I blame my probable concussion.

"Get her back to the bus," May says sharply. "Fitz, you can help Dr. Banner get what he needs."

I whip my head around, trying not to wince as the pressure behind my eyes makes my head feel like it's going to explode.

"I'm fine. Really, I don't need to go back to the bus. It's nothing. We'll just have a look around and we'll be done in no time."

Dr. Banner shakes his head, "That was quite the fall, Simmons. You ought to go back. I'll take plenty of pictures."

Hardly a compelling argument.

I'm about to say as much when Skye takes me by the hand, rendering my speech capabilities effectively useless.

Fitz looks smug, for good reason. Working with Dr. Banner is a privilege not many get to experience. If I could work up the energy, I'm sure I'd be green with envy.

I hear Banner say something to Skye, but another wave of momentary lightheadedness hits me and I can't make out his words. Skye must be satisfied with what he says, though. She nods resolutely and gently guides me towards the part of the forest that leads back to the bus.

"Simmons, wake up."

I open my eyes obediently and groan as the bright light of the lounge sucker-punches me in the corneas.

Skye is sitting next to where I'm lying on the couch, typing furiously on her laptop. This is the third time she's roused me when I'm just on the precipice of some much-needed sleep

"Please, Skye," I whine pitifully. "Please just let me sleep?"

Skye shakes her head, barely looking up from her screen. "Banner said I shouldn't let you sleep for more than an hour at a time. He said you probably have a concussion and that if I let you sleep, you could die. Doctor's orders."

I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. "Dr. Banner is full of it. That's not a real thing. And lest you forget, I am also a doctor."

Skye raises an eyebrow. "How many Ph.D.s does he have?"

"Five," I mumble.

"And you have?"

"Two," I sigh.

Skye nods, "Looks like he wins."

I suppose it is of no use arguing that Ph.D.s are not really a numbers game.

Instead, I pick up a magazine from the table and settle back into my position on the couch. My sincere hope is that I'll get away with a few minutes of sleep whilst she thinks that I'm reading. I make a show of turning the pages for a few minutes, then find a way to keep the magazine propped up without my holding it.

I am nearly asleep when she moves ever so slightly and I catch a whiff of the scent that's distinctly hers: clean and citrus-y with the slightest suggestion of coffee. It's the kind of smell that makes you feel warm all over; the kind that sort of makes you feel glad that you're alive to take it in. I can feel the corners of my lips lift as my eyelids droop.

The last thin wisps of consciousness are slipping through my fingers when I feel Skye gingerly remove the magazine from my grasp.

She pauses for a moment, but seems satisfied that I'm fully asleep as she leans forward to place the magazine back on the table. I'm sending out a telepathic wave of gratitude to her for not waking me up when her fingers push a strand of hair behind my ear. They linger there for a second and it's like some dark, whispered secret. Like something I wasn't meant to bear witness to.

If I wasn't who I am, if I were just a little more brave, I'd grab her hand and pull her closer to me on this too-big couch and kiss her so completely that no number of S.H.I.E.L.D. policies could possibly make any difference. If I wasn't who I am, I'd sit up and tell her what I'm thinking: that I don't want to only feel her touch when my eyes are closed. That I want to touch her all the time. In the lab, in the lounge, in the van, and every goddamn night before, during and after I've slept. I want to be able tell her when I'm thinking about her with my mouth and my hands, instead of just my eyes after she's turned around and walking away from me. I want so badly to sit up on this couch and kiss her until I can't breathe or think or move.

But I don't, because I am who I am.

I feel panic and disappointment swell in symphony in my chest as I feel her hand moving away. A chilly regret settles where her fingers were. If only I were a little more brave. I can feel the sharp sting of "should've" course through my veins, but i clench my teeth and let it pass because I'm not in the business of "should've"s.

And then I feel her fingertips on my shoulder blade, trailing softly over the fabric of my sweater and then splaying themselves out on my back. I hear her let out a long, slow breath. Her hand moves slowly, lazily adjusting to the curves of my shoulder and ribcage before coming to rest in the space just above my hip.

Breathing normally has never been so difficult.

Waking comes to me like a missed step: totally baffling, with a little panic and accompanied by a few expletives.

It take me a moment to piece together why I'm waking up on a couch instead of my bed.

"Sorry," I hear a voice next to me say. I look up and to my right to find Skye, still sitting next to me with her computer on her lap and her left hand now typing away furiously on her computer.

"I didn't want to wake you, but..." she's distracted, squinting at the screen as she speaks.

"Skye," I say gently, "really, the whole 'sleep coma' concussion thing is mostly a myth."

"No, it's not that. I found something. At least, I think I found something. It could be nothing," she chews on the corner of her lip nervously. "I have no idea what it is, honestly."

Sitting up, I slide a little closer to her to get a better look at the screen. I'll admit to feeling a little guilty that a substantial amount of my brain power is focused not on the contents of Skye's screen, but on the feeling of her shoulder against mine and the fact that her knee is close to touching mine that I can feel the warmth of her body through my jeans. Hardly respectable or professional thoughts.

I clear my throat clumsily, "What am I looking at?"

"That's what I don't understand," Skye shakes her head, "it makes no sense. These are reports from a research facility on the Isle of Man. They say something about a radioactive incident. Someone signed off on them, but I can't find the follow-up reports that should've been filed."

"Isle of Man? Why would there be a research facility on the Isle of Man?"

"Well," Skye concedes, "more like in the Isle of Man. And the official documents say it's just some kind of natural resource research facility, but all of the reports look like they're written in some kind of code. It's in English, but the word's don't make any sense."

At first I think that she must just be unfamiliar with lab reports. To the untrained eye, they really don't make much sense. But when I catch a glimpse of one of the reports on the screen, I can see that she's right. Even to the trained eye these are nonsense.

"Who's official documents are these?" I struggle to find a seal on the reports, but come up empty. "This isn't natural resource research. Someone's definitely hiding something."

"That's just it," Skye finally turns to look at me, "the reports are S.H.I.E.L.D."