Song inspiration for this chapter was "Bloodstream (Quartet Session) by Stateless"

The shriek of the Captain America alarm clock next to him brought Coulson out of the empty sleep he'd eventually settled into. Light pierced his eyes and brightened the room around him. And all of his fears tumbled back on him like a landslide.

After a quick shower and a shave, he gazed into the mirror at himself, tracing the bruises and scratches that still haunted his face from his trip to the desert. It wasn't the worst working over he'd ever had. The men were amateurs at best when it came to physically hurting him. He'd hadn't been concerned with breaking. He would have kept S.H.I.E.L.D.'s secret, the one they'd kept from him to the grave. The revelation stirred something in him.

He let his fingers trace down the ugly scar that lined his chest.

I should be dead.

This should have killed me.

And yet, months later, he was ready to die again for them, for the people who had brought him back.

A second chance at life is nothing to sniff at, he thought, pulling on a white suit shirt in his bedroom and starting to button it up. Anyone else would be happy to have it.

But they didn't just bring me back. They reprogrammed me into what they wanted.

A new memory fluttered to him now. One of a hospital room, everything painfully white and smelling like antiseptic. He remembered the leather restraints wrapped tightly on his wrists, holding him to the gurney, much like they had held him into that terrible machine in the desert; the Eye-Opener he'd begun to subconsciously call it. Because after all, that's what it had done. It had cleared away the lies.

There was food there, lying just within reach. A sandwich, some jello. Was that water? He hadn't cared. He hadn't touched it. Even when they cleared it away that evening and brought him another tray with another sandwich, another bowl of jello, another glass of water. He just slept. And when he didn't sleep, he stared at his hands, at the raging red wound on his chest and contemplated why he was there.

They'd let him out of the restraints once. That was their mistake.

A knock at his door made him pull the knot in his tie too tightly. He coughed and crooked a finger between it and his neck. "Come in?"

Ward appeared around the corner with a file folder in his hand. He studied his boss for a moment before handing the folder over. "Didn't sleep much?"

Coulson's head shot up and he scoffed. "You could say that. What's this?"

"We have new orders. We're to divert our course to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s base in New York immediately."

Coulson frowned. "What? Why? We're closing in on the rest of Project Centipede. Any diversion will just slow our progress."

"It was Director Fury's call. He wants to see you."

Frozen. It was just as he'd feared. He knew Fury would be quick to guess. He'd be interested to know what the Clairvoyant found out from that little machine. The interrogation with Raina had probably provided him with some worry.

"Sir?" Ward was staring at him.

"Change our course," Coulson ordered reluctantly, pulling his blazer out of the closet and throwing it on. "Let me know when we get there."

There was question in Ward's gaze one that Coulson hoped he wouldn't voice. Instead, Ward just nodded and walked back down the hall.

Coffee. Rich and hot. It would strip him of the last of those awful memories for a few hours at least. He had to keep his focus. Agent Hand had managed to hunt down several Project Centipede strongholds during his capture. They had a lot more they had to clean up. He couldn't be distracted by what the agency might do to him.

You have to keep up the wall. The act. Fury can't know you've remembered it all. Even if he knows you remembered the room, he can't know you remember being that thing…

"A.C.?"

He turned around. Skye. Her big doe eyes were cautionary and he suddenly hated himself for the way he'd acted last night. Before she could say anything, he said, "I'm sorry about last night. I know you were only trying to help."

She took a deep breath. "You were shouting the same things that you shouted while in the machine."

"Nightmares," he clipped defensively.

"Bullshit," she said under her breath.

"Excuse me?"

"You can't expect me to just accept that. "Nightmares"? Whatever Raina did to you in there…"

"Skye…"

"She broke you."

His eyes widened. "No, she didn't."

Skye put a hand on his. "You are one of the bravest men I've ever met. Unflinching. And when I saw what she'd done to you in there, it killed me."

Chips. The top of the wall is wavering.

"Stop it," he said softly.

"I'm worried!" she said louder than before.

Several people nearby glanced in their direction.

Coulson grabbed her arm and guided her into her room just off the main room. He slid the door shut behind them. "I'm okay, Skye. I told you she messed with my head. She did. She showed me things I hoped I'd never see. But they weren't real. Just like the nightmares aren't real."

"It's been a week, A.C.," she whispered. "Aren't you afraid?"

He frowned. "Afraid?"

She leaned close to him. "That you'll keep remembering?"

When she leaned back, it wasn't Skye's familiar gaze he was staring into. It was Raina's. She cooed softly and put a hand to his cheek. "Don't fight it."

He backed into the door, sliding it open behind him. He tumbled down, falling beneath where the ground should have been.

Falling…

Falling…

Falling…

"Coulson."

He snapped up.

The leather chair in his office. He'd sat in it for just a few moments to look at some paperwork. Sleep had tackled him there, trying to catch up on its missed opportunities from the night before.

Skye was standing in the doorway. "We're in New York, just about to land."

He put a hand to his forehead and took a shaky breath. "Thanks."

Chapter 3 coming soon...