Since I've had pretty good feedback, I decided I should reward you all with another chapter! I hope you like it!

Disclaimer as always.

"Just Know That I'm Always Parallel On The Other Side"

"Just hurry. I feel out of place."

Coulson startled, inhaling a breath. He sluggishly looked around his room, discovering the light had been turned off and a blanket draped over him. On his stomach, he lay on his arms.

Noticing a water bottle on a coaster on his nightstand, he noted it held no condensation. Obviously, it'd been there for a while. Looking pass the water bottle, he saw that the alarm clock said 01:37 AM. Widening his eyes, he realized he'd been asleep for nearly thirteen hours.

Wha…why didn't anyone wake me up? He wondered as he slowly sat up, the thin black cotton blanket pooling in his lap as he swung his legs off the side of the bed. One hand hanging onto the mattress, the other hand slivered up to brush his tousled – however much of his hair could possibly be tousled – hair before rubbing the back of his neck. Taking a deep breath and letting it out, he dropped the hand, using the other hand to reach for the bottle.

Gratefully, he twisted the cap and opened it, guzzling it halfway empty. Happy to be rehydrated, he twisted the lid to close and set it back down on the coaster heavily with his laden hand. Apparently, my body hasn't completely wakened up.

Deciding that'd it be fruitless to fall back asleep, Coulson rose out of bed, steadying himself when his legs threatened to collapse underneath him. "Dammit." He cursed under his breath. Pins and needles decided to make their presence known. "Really?" He was frustrated now. "Seriously? You just have to give me hell right now?" He shook his head, placing his hands on his back and hearing all sorts of cracking and popping. "God, I'm getting old." He sighed.

He walked into the bathroom next to his bedroom/office and used the bathroom and flushed before washing his hands. Looking down while he washed his hands, his mind recalled a hazy dream. Something about his time on Asgard, something about Skye's uncle, their methods of saving her, and something about the Clairvoyant…but he couldn't remember all of it. It must have been a nightmare because he was definitely glisten-ridden.

"Have trouble sleeping?"

"Ah hell, might as well get a shower." He grumbled, pulling his suit jacket, dress shirt, and his white T-shirt all off before tossing them on the floor near the closed door and reaching over to grab a towel and washcloth. Turning on his heels, he set both on the now closed toilet lid before standing in front of the sink, hands gripping the ends of the yellow-white stained granite top, head looking down.

Looking up at the mirror, he saw his reflection before it morphed into Skye who looked worriedly at him. Her hand was pressed against the other side of the mirror. "I will find you, Skye. Just like you did everything in your power to find me. No matter what or how long it takes." He vowed, deadly serious.

I know. She seemed to say as if her voice whispered in his ear. He itched his ear as if brushing the sound away.

"Okay, Skye, I'm seriously either losing my mind or miss you so goddamn much that I'm hallucinating your voice." He stated, studying her eyes. They conveyed the pain, the love, the worry she appeared to feel. He frowned, heart sinking to the bottom of his stomach. Raising one hand to cover hers, he sighed, depressed. "Why does it seem like the world's against us? I get abducted and basically tortured; you get shot twice and basically slip into a coma. We can't just be in each other's company and save the day without one of us – the team included – somehow getting hurt. Is this crazy train really worth it? Am I really worthy of you?"

He looked down, leaving his hand on the mirror and letting the tears fall. Even now, he didn't want her seeing his vulnerability again. Coulson could almost feel her hands sliding up his bare back to his shoulders before sliding halfway back down to wrap around his middle; he could almost feel her head turn to her right and rest against his back, drawing her whole body against the backside of him as if to tell him that she was there and would be his knight in shining armor again.

Sliding his hand to place over her imaginary one, the only thing that seemed to shake the sensation of her being so close was his hand being the only contact his skin had. She wasn't there, not really. As he looked back up, tears still running down their trail on his face, he could see her fading. It made his heart feel like it was metaphorically shattering just like it had done when Loki stabbed him.

Suddenly, he felt completely cold as her image disappeared completely, returning his reflection to the mirror. "I can no longer live without you, and I refuse to."

TBC...let me know what you think! :)