Previously: Skye was supposed to be sleeping peacefully when Fitzsimmons walked in to see Ward standing over the crying girl. Jemma came to wrong conclusions and stuck Ward with a muscle relaxant while Skye still continued to thrash through her nightmare. When she woke up, she wanted to talk to her father, whom Coulson had been trying to speak with but didn't get very far.

Chapter Fifteen

The bed had felt so good. The bed had felt so damn good that Skye was near convinced she'd fallen to sleep before she even hit the covers. And she'd slept, soundly, for a while.

But then the burning started.

The heat pricked at her skin like an unwelcome embrace, and she wanted it off, she just wanted it off! But it wouldn't get off. It licked at marred her until there were tears mixing with the ash in her eyes. Skye couldn't see anything, not really. Orange and red clouded her vision, blurred by waves of distortion in the air and too many sounds. Too many sounds of fear and sadness.

And horror.

Skye wasn't actually anywhere at first in her dream, just some kind of deity floating and observing the happenings. But then she was. She was in someone's warm embrace, though she wasn't aware of whom it was.

"Shh," they told her soothingly. "It's ok, don't cry. Just be quiet. Everything's fine."

Skye wanted to believe them. Skye wanted so bad to believe this person, with arms so warm and fingers so soft they felt like silk as they touched over her head.

But she couldn't. Not when so many people were hurting, not while that man was shouting.

Not while the world was burning.

And she cried and screamed and sobbed, only distressing this lovely warm, soft person. This person who felt safe.

Horrible shouting came from the man who was looking for something. Someone. Everything was muddled. His voice seemed so far away, but it was still enough to make her tremble.

In face, every voice was hard to understand. As though they had been speaking in some foreign language she couldn't understand but the words were suddenly embedded in her memory, causing her to translate as she remembered. She had just felt raw emotion behind everything they'd said before. Now she could understand the meaning as well.

She buried her head into the man's chest. Yes, the person was a man. She could feel it now. Soft and warm but firm as he gripped her, like she was something precious. There were other men somewhere too. Not the scary man. Protective men. And a woman, too. They were guardians and they were there for them.

Because they were there for her.

And it all clicked for Skye then, in a moment of upmost clarity. These monsters setting things on fire and calling out for their lost object, their lost child: it was she. Of course it was, of course!

She ripped herself out of the man's embrace, going deep into the fray. Into the middle of the burning buildings and the running people and the dead children. The children shocked her. There were dead bodies everywhere, why wouldn't there be children?

She was a child herself, she was small. The vantage of her vision was lower than she was used to as her little legs carried her out there, into the battle of fire as the ground bit into her feet because that, too, was burning.

She begged and pleaded to the monsters, for there were two. The scary man and someone else. They wouldn't look at her, the little person whose hair flipped wildly in the wind as the hot air blew at her, making her eyes water even more somehow.

The tears were stinging her now. Why wouldn't they look at her? They needed to stop hurting people because of her. She was right there, right in front of them!

She could not blame them. Oh she could, murderers as they were, but they lost something so dear. The pain reflected in the monsters' own screams of absolute anguish, and Skye was right there!

Though she was not Skye, yet.

And she wasn't really there, was she?

She was in the agent's arms as he ran her away. And Skye could feel herself split in two. The breeze from the agent's movements and the fear as she felt frozen in place in front of the monsters, watching the village become nothing. It would truly be nothing.

And though her body moved with the kind agent, and the rest of her was headed that way as she could feel in her bones, she managed to keep her vision on the man long enough for him to finally look at her.

She gasped, scowled and shook, for she was truly scared.

The thing looking back at her was someone she recognized. Not then, when this happened. Though, she supposed she knew she must have known him then as well; as much as a babe can know her father. But no, she knew him now. And he was telling her they were family and despite how much Skye refused to believe it, they were. It was clear. This was herself reflected, but she didn't want it to be.

The thing in front of her was not kind. It did not have to be human; she knew it wouldn't be in fact. But something so disfigured and bloodied with cuts sliced throughout his body would not be merciful. This was a soldier in front of her. This was a killer with a cold heart.

His cruel smile only confirmed it.

Skye didn't have to look at the man for too long, her consciousness floating away to where she belonged. Where she truly was in the moment. In that moment, when this happened.

Her protector, her safe harbor, no longer felt warm though. That had beat out of him minutes ago. Some of the warmth leaked onto Skye herself, but even that was cold now. The arms that wrapped around her were icy and unmoving.

A corpse.

And the infant cried.

Skye cried too, squeezing her eyes tight with fear.

But then she felt warmth. She didn't hear cries of panic and fear; she felt smooth warm touches and handholding.

So she opened her eyes.

The dream was gone.

Jemma Simmons stared down at her with a nervous relief that touched Skye's heart and warmed her entire being, forcing the chill left over from her nightmare to melt away.

Simmons told her something comforting like the Agent had tried to in her dream. Her friend gave assurance that it was Skye's "family" that was there for her.

But Skye's vivid dream had marred the word and she could feel herself wince, despite such a wonderful sentiment Simmons had put behind it. Skye forced herself to smile.

Skye stood, and from her watery itchy eyes she knew that she'd been crying. She knew they'd heard her, because why else would they all be here? Or saw her, as she seemed to have been on the ground. Simmons, Fitz, Triplett… and Ward, despite something being wrong with him as he was slouched against the wall. It didn't matter.

Now was the time for answers.

She was so determined she almost didn't hear Simmons calling to her, but she realized her friend just wanted to know where she was going. Skye banished the lingering fear and other emotions the dream – or perhaps more accurately, memory – had left behind.

"I'm going to have a chat with my father," she told her, possibly a bit too coldly.

Simmons mouth opened in shock, maybe because Skye was so brash about the statement that she'd been denying up until now. It wasn't denial so much as hope, but she knew her parents destroyed a village looking for her. Could she expect anyone much better than Wolfe?

Well, she did have the expectations that her dad wouldn't try and off her, so she supposed the answer was yes.

Skye walked down to the Cage quickly, though she could feel someone shadowing her heels. That was fine, they could come.

"Skye," May said, appearing just before the doorway with outstretched hands to stop Skye's pursuit.

Skye lifted her chin, motioning towards the door. "He awake in there?" she asked.

"Yes. Coulson's still talking to him."

"My turn," said Skye, trying to go passed the agent. May pushed her back with a small shove, and Skye scoffed with offense. "Hey! Coulson said I could talk to him."

"After you've slept," May pointed out, crossing her arms.

"I did sleep," Skye said flatly. "Fresh as a daisy now."

"Bags under your dark red eyes and obvious moodiness say otherwise. It's only been a couple hours."

"Oh my god," Skye exclaimed incredulously. "I said I slept, I didn't say I got a pristine amount of beauty rest. Now let me in!"

Skye tried to move passed May again. This time the agent didn't just push her away, but deflected Skye's movements by pushing her so that Skye had doubled over, May holding her firmly in an arm bar.

"Let go!" shouted Skye, obviously irritated.

May did, and Skye shuffled over the side, rubbing at her elbow while eyeing the older agent warily.

All of a sudden her stalkers made their appearance. Fitz, Simmons and Triplett had all followed her to the interrogation room.

May stepped up close to Skye, who slightly flinched, almost afraid she was going to use another ninja move.

"That's something we can work on soon, if you still want to train with me."

Skye pursed her lips, somewhat put off by the physical move against her. But she nodded.

All of sudden the Cage door opened then and Coulson sauntered out, closing it behind him. He looked up with surprise at the amount of people in front of him.

"Oh good, you're all here," he said upon seeing his team.

Skye stepped up eagerly and asked with earnest, "Can I talk to him now?"

"Give him a few minutes, it's a technique," Coulson told her. "Besides, you should learn what I've learned first."

Damn all these people being reasonable and smart. It left Skye with no reason to protest, so she just nodded again.

"Everyone should hear this." Coulson surveyed the group. "Where's Ward?"

"He's a bit... incapacitated," said Simmons awkwardly. "I stuck him with a muscle relaxant when he was in Skye's bunk."

Coulson's face turned dark with alarm. He looked to Skye, who held her arms up defensively.

"Don't look at me, I have no idea."

"Oh he didn't do anything!" protested Simmons, before waving her hand dismissively. Skye cocked a curious eyebrow. "Complete misunderstanding. But he can't move so… he can't be here with us."

"Fine," said Coulson. "He doesn't need to be, just as long as we know where he is. Everyone else, briefing room."

Coulson summed up what Wolfe had given him, which truth be told, wasn't too much. But Skye still listened intently.

"He was withholding information," Coulson continued, "because he wanted to talk to-"

"To me," she finished for him. Everyone turned to look at her, and she realized she had her arms crossed and was staring intently. Maybe fiercely. "Well, I'd hate to give him what he wants but… I'm also pretty curious as to what I am."

"Not gonna lie, me too," said Trip.

Fitzsimmons nodded excitedly as well.

"Team gets it." She shrugged. "I've got to talk to him, AC. So, when am I allowed to do that?"

"Now," Coulson told her, surprisingly.

Skye nodded, a wry smile on her face. "Oook was expecting a hoop or two but I'll take it."

"Want someone in there with you?" asked Triplett, and Skye didn't miss how Coulson and May edged forwards.

"Nah, I've got this. Family reunion should just be us, right?"

Coulson nodded. "We'll be watching."

The team looked apprehensive. All five of them.

"He is chained up in there, right?" asked Skye. "You guys are starting to freak me out."

"He is. Just… don't believe everything he says. Take it with a grain of salt," Coulson warned her.

"He's been lying for twenty-five years, so to suddenly decide and tell the whole truth would be surprising," May added plainly, apparently wanting to make sure Skye understood the complete literal impression of Coulson's words.

"Don't worry, I can do this," she told them, trying to hide her very large feelings of apprehension. Thing was, he wanted to talk to her; she just had to ask the right questions and not get over-emotional.

With her team left to watch the footage from the comms room, Skye walked over to where Wolfe was being held. She took a deep breath, hand on the door, before finally deciding to open it.

There he was, cheery and expectant. Dirty blonde hair in place. It seemed to never get raggedy. Meanwhile, Skye looked like she'd had a mop for hair when she'd been a prisoner.

Not that it was important, but she noticed it.

"Hey there, kiddo."

"Wolfe," she acknowledged, taking the seat across from him at the interrogation table. "Or were you expecting I call you 'daddo'? Or daddy? Sorry, I'm too up on the parental names, growing up without parents and all."

He laughed. "I don't have any delusions we're quite that close yet. But sure, feel free to call me dad."

"I'm guessing you have another name that's not 'dad' or 'Wolfe'," Skye said. "Care to share?"

"Do you?" he rebounded.

"Mary Sue Poots," she disclosed without hesitation, unexpectedly enough to get a look of shock on his face. "But you may have known that. I'm guessing you did some checking up on me."

Wolfe shook his head, looking somewhat amused. "Can't say I did know that one, actually."

"I guess I did do a pretty good job of scrubbing my records. Especially with that, not really something I'm fond of. Whatever your name is, gotta be better than that, right?"

"Let's stick with Wolfe, for now." He laughed. "Or Eli. I've been living this life for twenty-five years. You may be surprised, but I'm actually pretty accustomed to it."

"So... this is it?" Skye inquired, gesturing towards the man. "You're the father I've been looking for all these years."

"I am. Are you disappointed?" he asked, looking truly curious.

Skye wasn't sure at first. She'd never really thought about what her parents would be like if she found them. She just wanted to find them.

"Can't say I wanted him to be a liar and a kidnapper," she admitted.

"Oh, I didn't really kidnap you, Skye," he said, as casually as if they were disagreeing about whether or not it would rain that day. "That's a little harsh."

She leaned in to him, pronouncing her words as though he was dense. "You handcuffed me to a bed."

He pointed a finger to her. "I said I'd explain that."

"Well," Skye gestured around herself, "This seems to be the place to do it. It's called an interrogation room for a reason."

"You sure you want to know? It's a long story. And I don't have pictures or anything, so you'll have to keep up yourself."

Skye's smile crept slowly up her mouth. "I'm all ears, Wolfe."

He looked down, before glancing up in a sort of sideways manner at Skye's face. Almost sheepishly. Almost endearingly. Almost.

"Have you ever heard of race called the Kree?"

A/n: I hope that dream wasn't too confusing! It wasn't an exact memory the way Skye saw it. She kinda was morphing between just being there as an observer, being a baby, and a child. I just wanted it to be all crazy like dreams can be, so don't read too too much into it lol.

Next chapter: A giant explanation thing where I'm gonna throw around a few alien species names, so get ready!