Human by Daughter (AN AMAZING SONG) is the inspiration here...continuing into Chapter 9 which will be up tomorrow. Enjoy.

The next time Coulson opened his eyes, he found himself alone. A toxic mixture of sadness and freedom rushed through his blood as he took a large breath. He'd had eyes on him for the last several hours. He'd felt them traveling up and down his body, scrutinizing him and his actions. The absence of privacy only sent him reeling back to before, to everything he wanted to forget. Couldn't they see they were smothering him? Couldn't they see he was on the edge and about to tip?

Of course they can, he rationalized with himself. It's why they are there.

They care.

He sat up on the bed and regretted it almost instantly as his stomach pitched violently. He winced as he got to his feet, his legs tingling with the sudden sensation of being upright again. He leaned on the bed and carefully pulled the IV needle from his good arm. His left arm burned with any movement. He let it hang limply at his side as he plodded from the medical room out into the open corridor.

No sign of FitzSimmons anywhere. Would they have just left him alone like that? He decided he didn't care. This was his chance.

I'm sorry, May. I've got no other choice. I have to leave. Now.

Simmons stepped out of her room and slid the door closed behind her.

Jolly good time to get a headache, she thought moving to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. Her vision dropped on the old bloodspots in the carpet. Someone had swept up the mug shards and deposited them on the counter. The sink was now spotless, shining, the horror of the earlier event erased. She eased open the door to the dishwasher and saw it full to the brim with clean dishes. The incriminating knife poked out of the holder closest to her.

She closed the door and hugged herself. She'd examined him after the desert, checked his vitals, applied the bandages and asked the routine questions. Coulson was a good actor. He'd answered every single one of them with monosyllabic answers and his face had never lost its expression of being totally in control. He hid it well.

He had to, Simmons reasoned, taking a sip from her water. He was their commanding officer. And after everything he'd been through, he had an obligation to exude strength and discipline over emotion.

As she made her way toward the lab, she thought about the clean dishes up in the break room. It was funny that Coulson had quipped about her lab partner's cleaning habits. Typical boy, she thought with a chuckle. Ever since she'd known him he'd been horrible at cleaning up after himself. A thread of pity pulled through her at his reaction to what Coulson had done. He'd felt so bad. Doesn't surprise me his first priority would be to clean up the—

Her thought vanished completely as she noticed the empty medical bay. She jogged to it, checking the sides of the hospital bed, the bloodied IV needle resting on the tangled sheet. Coulson was gone.

"Fitz!" she yelled.

Not a moment later, the young man came sprinting into the lab from the other end of the corridor, his eyes immediately locking on the empty bed. "Where'd he go?"

"That's what I was going to ask you! You promised you wouldn't leave him!"

"He was asleep. I wanted to clean up the mess just in case the others got back and saw it. I wasn't gone for more than fifteen minutes."

"What were you doing down there, then?"

He shrugged. "I've been holding it for nearly an hour, Jemma!"

She spun toward the front of the plane. "We've got to tell May!"

As they sprinted toward the front of the plane, the rumble of an engine echoed from the entrance ramp. "Oh, god!" she shouted.

Their shoes slapped on the metal floors as they came into view of the cargo bay. The red convertible's thruster engines blazed hot as the car zoomed out of the open cargo bay door and disappeared into the deep navy sky.

Both of them stared after it for a time before Simmons finally said, "Damn it."

"You actually let him out of your sight?" May chastised later as they stalked down the corridor to Coulson's room. Inside was just what she'd expected. His closet door was open with clothes strewn about and several of his antique gadgets missing, including his signature side arm. She'd have expected he'd take the entire arsenal. But he hadn't. He wasn't trying to appear threatening and she knew why. Fury was going to come after him with everything he had.

"We could track Coulson's phone," Fitz suggested, his tone hopeful.

May walked over to the bed and picked up a mobile phone with the battery removed in the covers. "You mean this one?"

"Lola can be tracked," Simmons offered.

"He'll dump the car before we even get eyes on it." May left the room, shaking her head.

Fitz's eyes bugged. "What? Dump Lola? How could he?"

"She's just a car."

"It would still give us a place to start looking," Simmons said.

"Neither of you get it," May muttered under her breath.

"What?"

"The longer we take to find Coulson, the better."

"He just tried to kill himself!" Simmons argued, her face reddening. "How could you say something like that?"

May opened her mouth but the sound of footsteps coming up the walkway alerted her. Finally, Ward and Skye were back. She could fill them in on things and find out what they'd found out. She turned and stopped dead in her tracks.

Nick Fury was walking up the ramp flanked by several S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. His expression was always the same; a cocktail of discontent and aggravation, all squarely directed at her. But it wasn't so much how he looked as it was the meaning of his sudden presence. He'd heard about Phil. That's why he'd brought the reinforcements. Their goal had always been to take him. The little office visit was just a red herring. His appearance now proved that he'd known beforehand that Coulson was losing it. And she hadn't been the one to tell him.

"Agent May," he addressed as he finally came to a stop in front of her. "Agents Simmons and Fitz."

"Director Fury," Simmons and Fitz stammered.

"I came here for Agent Coulson."

Fitz rubbed a hand through his hair. "You've just missed him."

"And where might I ask was he headed?" Fury questioned.

"We don't know," Simmons intoned sadly.

Fury locked his eyes on May again. "May?"

She stayed silent. She had to give Phil as much time as possible to get a head start.

He took a step closer to her. She didn't think it was possible for him to look anymore infuriated. She was wrong. "Did I not ask loud enough?"

"He didn't tell me," she said.

Fury's jaw clenched as he waved to the agents behind him. They pushed past FitzSimmons, heading straight for Coulson's room. Next, he pointed to the two younger agents and said, "Get tracking up on that damn car of his. I want it found now."

The director waited until Fitz and Simmons were out of hearing range before he added, "And you and I will be having a discussion once we've dragged him back here. Until then, you and the bus stay in New York, in my sight at all times. Is that clear?"

One of her brows moved slightly. "Crystal."

"Good," he growled and pushed around her to join the other agents in Coulson's room.

May's thoughts touched briefly on the phone Coulson had left in his room. Ducking into one of the side rooms, she quickly pushed the battery back in with her thumb and turned it on. Within moments of searching the history, she found an unmarked text message.

"M, keep them off my back. Looking for my drumbeat. Be back soon. – P."

She smirked a little as she slipped the SIM card out of the phone and crushed it beneath her fingers. She then joined Fury in his fruitless search of Agent Coulson's belongings.