2
Melinda May was the first one awake the next morning. She was almost done with her session of tai chi when Coulson strolled in. While Coulson never slept much he always appeared calm. This morning she could sense the agitation in his pace. Something was amiss.
"Phil, do you need to vent?" May questioned. Recently Coulson experienced such pent up distress he would stay up all night inscribing the walls with the strange drawings. May would stick with him, photographing the glyphs and bringing him a cup of tea when his wrist would finally give out and he would snap out of thick concentration. This morning felt like it would be one of those days.
Coulson brushed it off, telling May he'd make it to tonight and had much to do. Koenig brought him breakfast and Coulson did what he had been doing almost every day since Hydra's resurgence; shutting himself in his office for hours.
When Skye woke up, she dressed in her workout clothes, grabbed a cup of coffee and two bowls of oatmeal and trotted down to the medical bay to visit Fitz and Simmons. Jemma had been there the whole week from early in the morning and any free moment of the day she had. Routinely, Skye joined in the morning and brought Jemma breakfast. Skye would try and supply jokes and lightheartedness since Jemma needed the cheering up.
This morning, Skye walked into the room with an empty chair next to Fitz' bed. It was peculiar, but Skye brushed it off thinking Jemma might be in the shower or just late getting up. She had been staying up long nights.
Skye placed one of the bowls on the table nearest to Fitz' bedside and casually slunk down in the chair in the corner.
"So, Fitz, did you have any good dreams last night?" Skye did her best to keep the atmosphere light and airy despite not having another person to bounce these kinds of statements off of.
She began eating her oatmeal and occasionally waxing poetic on small talk. Still, even after ten minutes of Skye trying to preoccupy the static air, Jemma did not come waltzing in with her characteristically apologetic British composure.
Always intuitive, Skye began to question the abnormal morning. She shot back up onto her two feet and started to snoop around the room. Skye barely knew the proper way to care for a mild burn but sticking around Fitz' hospital room for the week taught her a couple things about vital signs.
"Fitz," Skye whispered, staring at a screen. "You woke up."
The next step was to find Simmons. Maybe Jemma already knew Fitz was out of his coma and went to tell Coulson.
On her way to Coulson's office, Skye bumped into May. Bursting with excitement over the good news, Skye informed May about Fitz' consciousness.
"Was Jemma telling Coulson? She wasn't in the room with Fitz so I assumed she was letting him know," Skye babbled on.
May had just come with her morning chat with Coulson so she knew this wasn't true. In her stoic and silent manner, May delicately shook her head. Skye looked away from her trying to process the information, she took off to Jemma's bunk.
At first the room seemed normal. The bed was made according to Jemma's pristine standards. Skye slowly stepped in. She had hoped Jemma was sleeping in late. Skye walked up to the bed and sat down. Jemma was a predictable person, a creature of habit. Skye was going to have to think harder on where she must be.
But the answer was already starting to piece itself together in the back of Skye's mind. On Jemma's bureau usually sat a picture of her and her parents. That was missing. And so was a hairbrush. Skye walked open to the closet and opened the door. It was just empty hangars. Jemma was gone.
It had been a very long night for Jemma Simmons. She had to do most of her traveling during the dark hours, and by the time morning rolled around she was on a flight.
Slightly disoriented from the long travel, Jemma stepped off the plane, collected her luggage and proceeded through customs. On the other side, a man in sunglasses and a suit stood with a sign of her name. He was tall, young, and had dashingly good looks. He may have looked the part of all the other chauffeur's picking up their passengers but he was far, far from normal.