Chapter 32.

Skye woke to find Natasha sitting by her, fingers dancing lightly over the tablet propped up on her knees, her feet on the edge of the bed. For a long moment Skye studied the redhead. She'd had very little interaction with the Russian assassin so far. May's relationship with her had come as a complete surprise, but the two women were obviously very deeply attached.

"Didn't think you swung that way," Natasha's voice made Skye jump. The woman hadn't even looked up, how had she known Skye's eyes were open? She could swear she hadn't moved.

"What?" she said a bit stupidly.

"Well," green eyes flicked up to hers, glittering with amusement, "mostly when people stare at me like that, they're thinking about how much they want to get in my pants."

Skye blushed. "I'm sure they do, you're very beautiful. You must hear that a lot," she babbled a bit stupidly, "sorry. But you're right, I like men."

Natasha actually smiled. "So do I. Always thought I preferred them, actually. Turns out when you fall in love with someone, gender's not remotely important."

That made Skye smile back. "I get that."

"Good. I'll ask the annoying question now: how are you feeling? Jemma had to return to London on Coulson's orders, so Sam and I are it as your part-time medics, and I thought, all things considered, you'd rather not wake up with a man in the room."

"Thank you," Skye said, grateful for the consideration. "I feel okay. Still a bit stiff and sore. Like I could use a good hot bath."

"That'll have to wait until we get back to the Playground, I'm afraid."

"Ah," Skye realised she could hear the engines, feel the faint vibrations that meant the Bus was in the air. "How far are we out?"

"Not long. Couple more hours. You want to stay here or would you like to get up?" Natasha hesitated. "If you'd rather not see Steve just now, he and I have to leave with Sam and Barnes right after we land."

Skye thought about it. She still didn't know exactly what had happened. There were just brief flashes of memory, of Steve's face looking down at her, his big hands all over her, his mouth at her breasts. Between her thighs. "Not just now," she muttered, her face scalding red, "but I don't want to avoid him forever."

"Okay." Natasha put Skye's phone down on the bed. "I put my number in there. When you're ready to see him, let me know and I'll make it happen."

"Yeah. Not – I think – I mean, I'd like to be friends with Steve. At least be able to face him in a group setting, or work with him, without feeling completely humiliated."

"Lots of people are going to tell you this," Natasha said quietly, "but you have nothing to be ashamed of, Skye. You were attacked in a particularly brutal way that rendered you worse than helpless and it's thanks to Steve that you're still alive. The majority of people who've been exposed to that drug aren't."

"Really?" Skye's eyes widened. "I didn't know that."

"Truth. They die of heart failure because they don't get enough endorphin release, mostly," Natasha ticked the methods off on her fingers, "or if in the hands of HYDRA or their allies, they get gang-raped to death, or just raped and then killed once their captors have had enough of them. I can count the number of survivors I know about on the fingers of my two hands, and that includes you. Melinda is in a unique position to be able to help you. Let her."

Skye's eyes widened as she looked at Natasha, and after a moment, Natasha nodded once, subtly.

"Oh," Skye said rather inadequately.

"Melinda's not the best at talking," Natasha smiled fondly, "but she'll try. Don't bottle it up and don't blame yourself, that's the only advice I can give you. And don't worry about what Steve thinks of you. He was worried sick about you when we realised you'd been taken, and you've got to remember his morals are from the nineteen-forties. He's feeling guilty because he thinks he took advantage of the situation."

"But – May said he didn't even have sex with me!" Skye wasn't entirely sure how she felt so sore if he hadn't, but she wasn't about to ask.

"Depends on how you define sex, but if you want to get specific, no, he didn't stick his dick in."

The blunt remark made Skye blush again. "Why?" she asked. "I think – no, I know – I was begging for it."

"You'll have to ask him that question when you're ready," Natasha shrugged, "but I think it was about those forties morals again."

"Oh," Skye didn't know what to think. Her stomach chose that moment to let out a loud rumble, and Natasha chuckled.

"Hungry?"

"Starving," she realised, and Natasha tapped her com and spoke to someone – probably Sam, Skye guessed, and indeed it was Sam who arrived a couple of minutes later with a plate of sandwiches and a large bottle of her favourite soda. "Yum!" Skye fell on the food ravenously, and it was only when she finished and sat back, replete, that she realised Natasha had left the room and Sam had taken her place in the chair. She gave him a shy little smile as he took her plate and the empty bottle and set them on the floor.

"Well, that put colour back in your cheeks," Sam said bracingly.

"I feel a lot better," Skye admitted. Most of the shaky, weak feeling had been hunger, she realised.

"Good girl," Sam's dark eyes rested on her face, and she saw only kindness in them. "I know Natasha and May are both talking to you, but I have female friends at the VA who could help if you need someone you don't know to talk to instead," he offered kindly. "You don't have to decide now. Just let me know."

"Thank you," Skye looked down at her hands. "Everyone's been so kind…"

"They wouldn't be acting much differently if you'd been stabbed," Sam said bluntly, and she smiled.

"Actually, they probably made even more fuss when I was shot that one time."

"There you go then. You were hurt, Skye, but you're strong, you'll get past it. Give yourself time."

She looked up at him and smiled. He was so kind, so unthreatening for all his handsome face and his masculinity. "Would you give me a hug?"

Sam looked surprised for a moment, and then he nodded. "Sure." He moved to sit on the edge of the bed and opened his arms. "This okay?"

"Looks perfect," and then she launched herself into his arms, wrapping her own smaller ones around his narrow waist, pressing her face against his broad chest. Gently Sam closed his arms around her, touching lightly at first, and then firming the grasp when she didn't pull away. For several long minutes Skye enjoyed the comforting touch. It had been way, way too long since anyone had just held her like this.

"Thank you," she muttered finally. Sam gave her one last gentle squeeze and then let go, moving back to the chair.

"Any time I'm around, feel free to hug on," he smiled.

"I will take you up on that."

Fitz appeared then, hovering outside the door until she demanded he come in and give her a hug too. He obeyed at once, clasping her tight in relief and kissing her cheeks, flushing to the roots of his hair at his audacity until she patted his cheek and smiled.

"I was so scared I'd never see any of you again when those thugs dragged me in that van and didn't bring you," he admitted. "And then when I found they'd rescued me instead of you…"

"It wasn't a choice between you, we thought you were both in the van," Sam interrupted before either of them could say anything more. "And Fitz, you're just as important as Skye to this team. Don't ever think that you're not. If it had been Skye in the van and you taken on the plane, we'd have come after you just as hard."

Fitz nodded a bit shyly. "I know. I wish it had been, then Skye wouldn't have had to…" he blushed again.

"Eh," Skye realised she must be coming to terms with it since her first instinct was to crack a joke to ease Fitz's discomfort. "I got to bump uglies with Captain America. I'm not complaining."

The two men stared at her scandalised for a moment, and then when she began to laugh at their expressions, they both joined in helplessly.

Steve, coming down to check on Skye, heard the laughter and stopped, still standing in the lab. He could hear Skye's infectious giggles, well remembered from that night in the gym at Avengers Tower. Slowly, he stepped back, moving quietly back towards the stairs. If he went in there now, the laughter would stop, the smile would disappear from her exotically beautiful face. He couldn't bear that. He'd leave her alone. And perhaps – perhaps one day, he'd get to see her smile at him again.

Awwww, STEVE. And SAM. And FEELS. So much feels.