It Starts With Letting Go
Disclaimer: I don't own or make money off anything. God, that's sad.
Chapter 3.
The team was gathered in Coulson's motel room. Phil stood in a corner. Fitz, Simmons and Skye sat at the table while May and Trip each perched on a bed. The scientists and Skye were perusing the spiral notebook with Coulson's handwritten circles, dashes, and other less uniform shapes.
"This has got to be some sort of code." Fitz said firmly. Jemma shook her head.
"No, I don't think so." She replied. "I'm not sure, but I think it's actually a language, Fitz. Look how there are breaks in between sets of symbols. A code usually doesn't have that." She shook her head in frustration. "It's not a language I've ever encountered though."
"I've run this through the internet," Skye said. "I haven't found anything even close to matching this."
Coulson sighed. "So it's probably some sort of nonsense that my 'programmed' brain is just arbitrarily spitting out." He looked defeated and a bit embarrassed.
"Not true for exactly that reason, Phil." May replied. "Your brain was programmed, yes. And that's why whatever this is means something. If it was nonsense, you would be writing this in English, not some sort of complicated language." She looked at him. "I think that they programmed this into you, and your subconscious is trying to tell you something. Something important."
"What could that be, May?" Tripp asked gently.
May was deep in thought. "We know that you were brought back using alien technology. Is it possible that whatever this is could be related to that?"
"You mean this might be an alien language?" Skye asked her. May nodded.
"I know it's far-fetched, but everything regarding Phil's recovery is. Who's to say that they didn't implant a means of communicating with him since they saved his life?"
Everyone looked around at each other. This was certainly a brave new world whether they were ready for it or not.
"But, why don't I know what it means?" Phil protested. "There's no possibility of communication if I don't understand it."
"We need a Rosetta Stone." Fitz said quietly to the bafflement of the others, except for Jemma who nodded in agreement.
"A what?" Tripp asked.
"The Rosetta Stone was the key to figuring out the Egyptian hieroglyphs." Fitz replied. "It provided text in three languages, but since the text was the same, it allowed translators to figure out the new symbolic language of the Egyptians. What we need is a similar kind of key."
"They look familiar." Skye said suddenly. "I've seen them before."
"Where?" Coulson asked, suddenly feeling hope. But, Skye just shook her head.
"I would need to see the information on that drive I made. The one Ward has." She was angry that she hadn't been able to save it.
"We need to get the plane back." Coulson said firmly. He held up his phone. "I've transferred all my money into one private account with a false name. It's not a fortune, but it will be enough to tide us over for a while. The others stared at him for a moment, but then May spoke.
"I'll do the same, Phil. Who knows what Hydra might do to our accounts if they find them." She looked at the others. "It would be wise that everyone does this, and fast."
The team spent the next hour setting up dummy accounts and transferring their money to keep it safe.
"Okay," Phil said. "I think it's time we go see if our bus is still in L.A. and if it's being guarded." He looked around at the others. "We have icers to use if we need them, but they are not going to take down Deathlok if he's still there."
"I'll lure him off the plane if needed." Skye said firmly.
"Skye…" Phil began, but she interrupted.
"AC, he could have easily killed me before, but he didn't. Unlike Ward, I still think Mike has the potential to be saved. I think we should at least try."
Coulson smiled at his protégé. "Okay," he said. "We give Mike a chance."
They called a taxi for the rest of them while Coulson and May settled into Lola. The group parked in a large airport lot and Tripp, Fitz and May searched the north part of the airstrip while the rest investigated the south side. It didn't take long, to their surprise and relief, to find their beautiful Bus hangared at the north end.
Sitting outside, looking forlorned, was Grant Ward. Through a series of hand signals, Skye got permission to approach him. He looked up and smiled when he saw her. Her stomach turned at the sight.
"Skye, you came back!" He said excitedly.
"Yeah," she replied. "Some unfinished business." At that, she pulled the icer from her pocket and shot him twice just to make sure. While the others tied the unconscious Ward up securely, Coulson, May and Skye entered the plane cautiously. Skye asked them to stay out of sight while she approached Mike Peterson in the lounge. He sat with his back to her.
"Mike, don't turn around." Skye addressed him. "If Garrett can't see me, then I think you'll be safe. Ward's out of the picture. You can be too, if you choose to. Just get up and walk off the plane to the commissary. Get yourself a magazine. You can tell Garrett that you left Ward to guard the plane. You can give us a chance to have our plane back, Mike. You owe Agent Coulson that much at least. You can do this without it affecting Ace. Please, Mike."
So she'd made her appeal, now it was up to him. Skye knew that the others were hidden, but ready to rain down heavy fire on this man if needed. She tried to will him to comply. Mike stood after what seemed like hours to her. She ducked behind a chair so he couldn't see her and gasped as he made his way off the plane. He crossed the now empty hangar and exited the building. Skye breathed a sigh of relief as she watched the others scramble aboard.
"What did you do with Ward?" she asked. Tripp just smiled.
"He'll never bother us again." He answered and wisely, Skye made no further enquiry about the matter. Ten minutes later they were in the air, and for the first time in days things seemed back to normal. Coulson helped inventory their supplies since he no longer had paperwork. He was actually quite content about that. They were only really low on food and ammunition, one they could pick up after they found a remote location to land, and the other would be produced on board, made especially for their icer guns. Everyone took the time to shower and change before May cooked them up a dinner that was really good. Skye looked at Coulson when he came down to join them, and was a little surprised. He had changed into a clean tee shirt and jeans with sneakers. She was the most surprised that he hadn't shaved, but rather cleaned up the scruff into the beginnings of a beard. He smiled at her obvious stare.
"From now on we are undercover, guys." He told them. No more looking like S.H.I.E.L.D. agents if we can help it." He had talked about this with May and she had agreed, foregoing her leather for some black jeans and a light blue shirt.
"Okay then," Fitz joined in, and promptly removed his tie. Jemma and Tripp had already dressed appropriately and Skye just never dressed like a proper agent anyway.
They were relaxed enough to finally eat and thoroughly enjoyed May's cooking. It wasn't fancy, but it tasted great. Later, they agreed to form two teams on the plane. One that would sleep while the other was awake and dressed to be prepared for any danger. Tripp and May were on opposite teams since they were the pilots. Coulson and Skye joined with Tripp to sleep first. That way Fitz and Simmons could work on ammo for the icers while May piloted.
Hours later, May was making her way through the darkened plane checking on Fitzsimmons and making sure everything was functioning properly on the plane. She stopped outside of Coulson's door when she saw the light on.
Dammit, Phil. She frowned at the fact that he wasn't getting the rest he needed. As she got closer to his door, she realized it was ajar, so she pushed it open and walked in, not expecting the scene before her. Coulson was curled up against the headboard of his bunk, the spiral notebook on his lap. His face was frozen in concentration and his lips moved silently as he wrote on the page. He didn't acknowledge her presence and seemed to be unaware that she was there. May slowly backed out of the room, turning to get Jemma.
"Jemma," May said when she entered the lab. "I need you now." The young scientist looked up in concern.
"What…..?" She started to respond, but May took her arm and led her up the stairs to stand outside Coulson's room. She whispered to Jemma.
"You're a doctor… and I didn't know what to do." May gestured to the room. "He's in there writing in that book. I walked in on it, but he didn't even know I was there. It's like he's in a trance. I didn't know if I should try to wake him up or just let him finish writing. What do you think?" Jemma had no experience with this phenomena, but she knew about PTSD. She'd seen enough behavior from Coulson to know he suffered from flashbacks and nightmares. It wasn't a good thing to physically interfere with someone in the throes of a panic attack, so she turned to May and answered her the best she could.
"We can let him know we are here, but don't touch him, okay?" May nodded and they entered the room. Coulson was in the same state that May had found him in earlier. The two women shared a glance and then sat down on either side of him.
tbc