Episode 6: FZZT Part One

Wrigley, Pennsylvania

Around a campfire, a group of boy scouts listened to a young leader finishing up a story.
"The thing is, no one exactly knows what happened to the crying man that summer." The boys shot nervous looks to each other. "Some say he drowned in the lake, but others say that they've seen his ghost, wandering these woods, in search for his lost sister… Actually, they say if you're quiet and listen really hard… you can still hear him crying."

Behind the group, another leader, who was cooking, made a low wailing sound. The boys all laughed.
"Mr. Cross," began one. "That was like… the worst Crying Man ever."
Mr. Cross chuckled, "Really? I thought it was pretty good." The boys' faces showed they weren't impressed.
"You guys think we're kidding?" asked the storyteller. "Just remember to stick close to the campfire tonight, okay?"
"Hey, guys. Do you hear that?" Mr. Cross asked.

The storyteller looked up, listening hard before shaking his head.
"Hear what?" he asked.
"That humming sound," Mr. Cross murmured. He stood. "Stay here. I'm gonna take a look around the campground." He walked away and the boys looked at each other. "What humming?" asked one of the boys.
"Where's Mr. Cross going?" asked another.
"He's just trying to scare us," the storyteller said. "So lame."

The boys didn't look convinced and she shrugged.
"Come on guys, grab a s'more." He dug into a cooler, pulling things out and tossing them to the boys. "All right. Well, that's for you."
"Oh, I want marshmallows!" one called.
"Tommy, I know you like chocolates, here." The young man handed one of the boys chocolates. "Don't hog the marshmallows, okay?" he warned one of them.

One of the boys noticed a cup floating in mid-air. His eyes went wide, locked on it. His expression caused the young man to look over her shoulder, he saw the cup floating too. There was an arc of electricity that ran along the handle of the cup then it dropped to the ground. In the distance, they heard Mr. Cross screaming in the background.

The young man jumped to his feet.
"Everyone to the truck now!" The boys threw down their stuff and ran for the truck. They all climbed in, hearing Mr. Cross screaming even more. The young man and the boys looked to the campground that they just abandoned and saw streaks of lightening like electricity shooting through their camp.

An arc of electricity hit the engine compartment of the truck. The young man and the boys screamed with fright. A few yards away, the battery of the car hit the truck on the ground, sparking. The young man and the boys panted with fright and looked around, it seemed like whatever happened is over.

Opening his door, the young man looked around for Mr. Cross.
"Mr. Cross?" he asked There was no answer and he stayed near the truck. "Mr. Cross!" The only thing he heard was crickets chirping. He turned nad looked at the boys. "Come on guys. Let's go look for him."

The young man started away and one of the boys opened his door.
"Whoa, is he nuts?" a boy asked.
"Stay close," the young man called. He grabbed a lantern and they walked into the woods, looking for Mr. Cross. "Mr. Cross are you okay?" the young man called.
"Mr. Cross?" a boy yelled. He looked at his friends. "We should just go back."

They stopped when the young man stopped, his eyes full of shock. They found Mr. Cross. He was lying flat, almost as if asleep on the bed on his back, floating in the air. They saw blue arcs of electricity coursing over his body. One of the boys screamed and ran away, quickly followed by the rest of them. The young man stayed staring and lowered his lantern in shock.

Simmons stood next to the treadmill, keeping stats on vitals.
"Working up a good sweat there, sir," she remarked. Coulson rolled his eyes, looking at the various monitors on his body.
"I don't sweat, I glisten," he corrected.
"Blood pressure, heart rate, biochem, all normal. All that's left is the blood sample."

Hitting a button, the treadmill turned off and Coulson stopped running.
"You should know, I'm not a fan of getting poked," he told her.
"You and Sara," she muttered. "But tell me, sir, have you been feeling under the weather lately?" Removing the various devices, he frowned at her.
"Why?"
"I just noticed from your chart that you're not due for a general physical for another three months."
"I made a mistake, took a call from my physical therapist," he lied. "Asked how I was feeling, I said "a little rusty". Next thing I know, I'm wired to his hamster wheel."

Simmons smiled at him.
"Well, you can officially tell your physical therapist that you're fit as the proverbial fiddle, especially for a man of your age." Coulson made a face.
"A man of my age? That's something you say to an old person." She smiled awkwardly.
"Is it?" She gave him a nervous chuckle. "Well, let's get you some electrolytes, shall we?" Coulson turned and walked away.

Inside the lab, Ward had the night-night gun, loading it while Fitz and Sara watched eagerly. The gun lit up and he made a pleased sound, then he pulled the guy up to look through the sights. After a moment, he lowered the gun.
"Sorry, Fitz, Sara. It's close, but it's just not right."
"Really?" Fitz asked. "'Cause Agent Coulson had no problems."
"It's an ounce too heavy."

Sara glowered at him.
"I hate you, Grant Ward."
"No you don't." Skye looked up from her laptop.
"An ounce? Seriously?" Ward sent a glare in her direction. As he spoke, Sara picked up the gun, weighing it in her hand.
"It's the difference between success and failure. When you're on a roof-top with a 15 miles per hour wind, your target is 500 yards away –"
"Yeah, but we do have a rifle," Fitz told him. Ward shot him a look.
"Loose the ounce."
"Okay, I'm on it."

Ward walked out of the room while Fitz shot an annoyed look at his back.
""Lose the ounce"," he mocked. He changed his accent to that of an American one, even lowering his voice to imitate Ward. He picked up the gun and developed an old western style swagger. "I'm Agent Grant Ward…"

Skye looked over at him amused while Sara rolled her eyes, already getting to work on fixing the problem.
"I can shoot the legs off a flea from 500 yards…" Fitz switched back to his normal voice. "As long as it's not windy." Skye began to laugh, and Fitz looked over at her, giving her a big smile.

Setting the gun down by Sara, Fitz turned to Skye more fully.
"Hey, there's a sound I haven't heard in a bit." Skye's smile slipped.
"Yeah, well, you wouldn't be laughing a while lot if you were living in Ward's doghouse." Sara grunted in agreement.
"You made the rounds, apologized to us all," Fitz shrugged.
"What more can he ask?"
"I don't know!" she moaned. "I've been busting my ass, memorizing every S.H.I.E.L.D. protocol manual, following every order. "Yes, sir." "No, sir." I even let them tag me like a stray dog."

Holding up her wrist, she reminded him of the bracelet.
"I mean, I know I lied to you guys, but I was trying to protect my boyfriend."
"You know, we all make mistakes," he told her. He leaned forward, taking on the air of a concerned friend. "Who cares about your ex-boyfriend?" Skye got out of her chair and stood facing him.
"It's not like I'm comparing Ward to Miles, but at least with Miles, I didn't have to worry about passive-aggressive stuff. There was no mind games. We spoke the same language, you know?"

Fitz nodded quickly, moving his finger between the two of them.
"Yeah. Yeah, a bit like we do."
"Totally. You, Simmons and Sara are so tight, it's like you're physically linked." Fitz made a face.
"No, you… No. Actually, no. I don't think so."

Sara turned around in her seat as Simmons entered the lab.
"So, Ward was here," Simmons stated. "Let me guess, the night-night pistol again?" Sara gave her a look.
"Yeah," she snapped, "and he said it's off by an ounce."
"Of course he did," Simmons scoffed.

Mocking a frown, Simmons put her hands on her lips. She gave her voice an American accent and deepen it to imitate Ward like Fitz.
"I'm Agent Grant Ward, and I could rupture your spleen with my left pinky – blindfolded." This time, Sara couldn't help but laugh. Skye joined her.
"That is dead on," Skye smirked.

They heard the door open and turned towards the noise as Ward walked in.
"Hey, hustle up and grab your fear. We're on a mission." Everyone was trying to keep a straight face, but they were snickering a bit.
"Something funny?" he asked. Sara shook her head and Simmons went back to her normal voice.
"Poor, silly Fitz," she remarked.

Picking up the night-night gun, she held it out to Ward.
"He mistakenly left a dummy round in the pistol. Should be proper now." He took the gun out of her hands nad weighed it. He quickly pulled it up to look through the sights as Simmons sighed in embarrassment. Ward paused for a moment then looked at Simmons.
"Great, thanks." He turned and walked away as the four of them looked at each other, laughing quietly.

The team walked into a camping area while Coulson broke down what they knew.
"Troop Leader's name was Adam Cross. Apparently he said he heard something in the woods, went to check it out. That's where the electrostatic anomaly occurred." "What I don't understand is, usually, they're caused by a massive electrical storm," Fitz said.
"But there wasn't a storm within a thousand miles of here last night," Simmons told them. "This anomaly is different, it has a side effect we've never seen before."

Sara stood next to May, who was looking into the hood of the truck.
"It landed over here," Ward called. He was kneeling by the battery and Skye knelt beside him. "Hell of a force to create that kind of trajectory." Skye had a long thick branch in her hand and poked at the battery.

Standing, Ward looked around. Skye did the same.
"Huh," he murmured. Skye put her hands on her hips, mirroring him, then bumped ingo his back, making him roll his eyes.
"What are you doing?" he asked. Skye gave him an innocent look.
"I'm shadowing my supervising officer."
"Shadowing, not smothering," he snapped. He started to walk to Coulson. "There's scorch marks all over that tree. Lucky the whole forest didn't burn down."
"I don't get it," Skye said, following him. "Seems to me this electroshock thingy as some freak lightning strike. I mean, why call us? What's the big –"

Skye stopped talking and started chuckling with happiness.
"Never mind." She entered the clearing, Sara coming to a stop behind her. Mr. Cross was floating midair.
"So sad a man died this way," Simmons muttered. "… and yet, so amazing." Fitz took a reading on his tablets.
"Fitz-Simmons, any idea what could cause an effect like this?"

The scientists shot unsure looks at each other than began speaking over one another.
"Well, okay, judging by the horizontal electrical discharge, it could be…"
"There's the solution hypothesis. Perhaps nanobatteries…" Coulson made the "time out" hand signal that they use in football.
"Time out. Let's try that again. Any idea what could cause an effect like this?"

Coulson looked specifically over at Sara.
"The hell if I know," she said defensively.
"Uh, no, no clue," Fitz agreed. Ward crossed his arms.
"Seems to me like we're either dealing with some freak natural event or a new high tech weapon."
"Or could it be someone from your uber-secret index?" Skye offered.
"There's no one on the index with this type of power," May said.
"That we know of," Coulson corrected. "I'll contact Agent Blake at S.H.I.E.L.D. H.Q., have him check it out. Whoever or whatever is responsible, we can't let this happen again."

Ward looked at Sara, who was staring at Mr. Cross.
"Hey, Fitz-Simmons, see his forehead?" she asked. "Look at that endothelial discoloration." Simmons walked closer to the body.
"Yeah, same dispersal pattern as the strike on the truck," Fitz said.
"Could be an entry wound cauterized immediately," Sara offered.

Simmons got even closer to the body. There was a small spark of electricity that came from the wound on Mr. Cross' head. After it discharged, his body dropped to the ground. The group jumped.
"Freaky," Fitz whistled.
"Freaky," Simmons echoed.

Coulson and Ward walked into the planning room where Skye was already there.
"You found something on Cross?" Coulson asked her.
"Many things, actually, but you already knew that. Thanks to my fancy S.H.I.E.L.D. house arrest gizmo tracking my every key swipe, my online activates, my cholesterol… Just wish it came in another color… or came off."
"The victim?" Ward asked.
"Adam Cross, single, no kids, originally from Wrigley, Pennsylvania, not far from here."
"Been there," Coulson nodded. "They have a nice little strawberry festival in the spring. Occupation?"
"Phys-Ed teacher at the local high school and varsity baseball coach and troop leader and volunteer firefighter. This guy makes Captain America look like "The Dude"."

Skye laughed, but they gave her nothing.
""The Big Lebowski"," she tried. She waited a beat, with no reaction. "Seriously?"
"What about a criminal record, restraining order something that might give us a suspect?" Ward asked. She hit a couple buttons on the tabletop monitor.
"Nada, not even a parking ticket. I skimmed all his posts, anyone linked to his pages hoping for a crazy ex or superpowered stalker, and he's clean."
"Everybody looks clean on their first go-round," Ward told her. She lowered his eyes at his barb.
"Ward's right," Coulson agreed. "We're missing something, dig deeper."

Looking between the two of them, Skye nodded nad walked away. Coulson and Ward stayed behind.
"You've been pretty tough on her," Coulson said.
"She lied to us, contacted The Rising Tide while we were on mission. If she wants our trust back, she's got to earn it."
"The background she ran on Cross is a good start. Put it up on the server, I want May to have a look when she's done with her interrogation."

Inside the holding cell, the young man from the campfire sat inside, looking scared as May just stared at him. She pushed a plate of cookies toward shim.
"Have a cookie," she offered. The young man swallowed hard, looking at the plate.

Down in the lab, Adam Cross lay on a table with a sheet over most of his body. Simmons stood next to him, taking notes. Sara sat at her desks, watching interested. The door opened and Coulson walked in.
"Excellent timing, sir," Simmons said. "I've been analyzing sagittal and coronal image of the victim's brain."

Coulson looked down at the body then back up to Simmons. Something caught his attention over her shoulder.
"What's Fitz doing out there?" Fitz was sitting in the cargo bay, the glass doors between the two rooms shut. Fitz turned when he heard his name.
"He detected a strange energy coming off the body."
"He's afraid of it, isn't he?" Coulson asked.
"It's the smell!" Fitz said, his voice muffled through the closed door.

Simmons turned to look at him.
"There's no shame in it, Fitz. It's perfectly natural to be afraid." Fitz walked closer to the closed door.
"No, the only thing I'm afraid of is putrid, decaying flesh corrupting my pristine workspace." Simmons groaned and rolled her eyes. "Do you remember the last time you and Sara brought a dead thing into the lab?"

Sara sat up straighter, turning around to glare at her brother.
"Oh, not the stupid cat, again!" she snapped. Fitz was nodding.
"The cat! Tell him about the cat!"
"It's our lab, Fitz. Not your lab!" Simmons reminded him.
"You left his liver next to my lunch!"
"Guys!" Coulson called.

Simmons and Sara turned to look at him. He gestured down to Mr. Cross' body.
"Can we please…"
"Yes, sir," Simmons nodded. "Um, as I as saying, this is the victim's brain." She hit a few buttons on her tablet, pulling up the information onto a monitor behind Coulson.
"Looks like a burnt baked potato," Coulson remarked.
"That's what happens when it's hit with close to 2,000 megajoules of electrostatic energy," Sara said. "That's almost double the power of a lightning bolt."

May walked into the room.
"Kid's clean," she reported. She walked to the table. "You figure out why the body was floating?"
"Not yet," Simmons sighed. "The molecular density of the victim was temporarily altered by an unknown energy source. I'm hoping to shed some light on its effects once I extract a brain tissue sample."

She gave them a big smile which faded when Fitz spoke.
"It's happening again!"
"It's science, Fitz! I have to dissect something."
"No, the satellite's picking up another electrostatic event not 20 kilometers from here." He turned his tablet so that they could see it and held it up, showing the location. May and Coulson shared a look then started off.

Coulson sat in the passenger seat of an SUV while May drove. Ward and Sara sat in the backseat.
"Fitz, what's the latest reading?"

Fitz read from his tablet while the feed from it was on the monitor for Skye and Simmons to see.
"Uh, we're at 324 megajoules and growing stronger. Dangerous territory, sir."

Skye was on a computer in the lab behind them.
"There's a farmhouse a mile north of you right at the center of the signal. That's got to be it."
"Skye, dig up everything you can on whoever lives at that farm." Skye nodded her agreement and turned back to the computer. "I need to know who we're dealing with."

Fitz-Simmons took a small step away from the monitor as it showed electrostatic signature growing then fizzing out.
"Hold on. What just happened?" Fitz asked. "Um, it's gone."
"What's gone?" Coulson asked.
"The electrostatic signal. It seemed to pulse then disappear."

Coulson looked at May.
"We need a shortcut." May nodded and jerked the wheel to the right, taking them into a field. They arrived at a farmhouse and May slammed on the breaks, putting the car into park. Ward and Sara exited the car, holding their gups un, assessing the situation. Coulson also got out, holding his gun. May exited without a gun, looking around.

Walking to the barn doors, he stopped and looked at Ward.
"Door's barred from the inside."
"Hayloft's open," Ward said.
"We could ram it with the truck," Coulson mused. Sara and May exchanged eye rolls before May ran to the door and gave it a hard kick, opening it easily.
"Or we could do that," Sara smirked at the two guys.

Ward sent her a mock glare then entered the barn, followed closely by Coulson. When Ward got deeper into the barn, he lowered his gun a bit and looked up. Coulson, Sara and May were also looking up with surprise. There was a man suspended mid-air just as Mr. Cross had been. May started up the ladder for the hayloft as Coulson spoke to Ward.
"Scan the perimeter. Whoever did this couldn't have gotten far."

May made it to the top of the latter as Ward hurried out of the barn. Sara stared at the man from the ground.
"Barricaded himself inside," Coulson said. "Went for his shotgun."
"He was scared, trying to protect himself," May added.
"From whom?" Coulson asked. "How did they get to him?"
"Another burn mark on his forehead, Sara," May said.

Ward reentered the barn.
"No sign of anyone. No tracks, no vehicles down the road." Coulson put a hand to his ear.
"Skye, we need real time sat surveillance on this area, right now."
"Hang on… Actually, I think I found something you might want to see first. Sending it over now."

Pulling out her tablet, Sara accepted the messages that Skye was sending.
"The guy who owns the farm's name is Frank Whalen. He's a volunteer firefighter at the same station house as or first victim, Adam Cross."
"Our two victims knew each other," Ward muttered.
"They were both responders when the aliens crashed New York."
"Damnit," Sara cursed under her breath. "It always has to lead back there."
"Two victims from the same firehouse, found in the same weird way," Ward said.
"We're looking for a killer," Skye said.

A man, sweating heavily from his brown, shined something metal He blew on it, and rubbed it again, then held it up higher. It was a helmet. He turned it around and set the object down carefully. There appeared several arcs of blue electricity coursing over it.

The man's body was still hanging in the air as one of Fitz' drones flew around it. The drone flew close to Frank's face and it was zapped by the blue electricity. Once the zap discharged, Frank's body fell to the floor with a hard thug. Fitz caught the drone was it fell.
"Gottcha!" Fitz said happily, pulling it close to his chest.

Skye was on her laptop and looked up as the body fell.
"Hey, um, anyone else notice all the metal scattered around the body, like an electromagnetic field was present? The question is, what created it?" Fitz asked.
"We need to get this body back to the lab as soon as possible," Simmons said. "Something about these wounds…" Coulson's voice buzzed in their ears. He had gone with the others to the fire station were Cross and Whalen had volunteers at.
"Skye, what did you find out about the firehouse?"
"It tuns out they sent an engine to New York with a dozen volunteers after Chitahuri invasion, including Cross and Whalen."

Sara pursed her lips, listening to Skye's voice as she rode in the backseat with Ward.
"Maybe it has something to do with why they were targeted?" Skye offered.
"Or how they were killed," Ward said.
"You mean like, an… alien weapon?"
"Let's just make sure we get to those firefighters before anyone else does," Coulson ordered.

The SUV pulled up to the firehouse, the doors opened. The lights shined into the firehouse, showing a group of firefighters sitting at a table playing cards. The team entered and Coulson produced his ID.
"Evening, gentlemen. Agent Phil Coulson with S.H.I.E.L.D. We were on the ground with you in New York."

Most of the men ignored him, but one guy kept his eyes locked on Coulson. He spoke first.
"S.H.I.E.L.D., right. What's this all about?"
"We'd like to ask you a few questions, take a look around." May nodded to Coulson and she and Ward walked away, Sara staying beside Coulson. As the other two walked away, another firefighter walked into the room.
"Hey guys. What's, uh, what's going on?" Sara caught sight of him. He had dark bags under his eyes and his face was covered with sweat.

In the bus, Simmons bent over Frank's body, examining his head. Skye approached quietly.
"What are you looking for?"
"A scented candle," Fitz answered, looking around in the cabinets.
"Not you," Skye said, rolling her eyes.
"This wound," Simmons murmured. "Something doesn't quite make sense. Initially, I thought these were entry wounds, as if from a gunshot, but they're not. They're exit wounds."

One of the firefighters gapped at Coulson and Sara.
"What do you mean, Frankie's dead?"
"I'm very sorry," Coulson told him.
"You know how it happened?" another asked.
"The same way your other friend, Mr. Cross, died the day before."
"Which is how, exactly?" the sickly looking man asked.

Sara looked a longer look at the fireman.
"I'm sorry, your name is?"
"Tony. Tony Diaz."
"Are you okay, Mr. Diaz?"
"Actually, uh…" he started to back away. "I'm not feeling so hot." He walked to the back room and Coulson touched his earpiece.
"Ward cover the back door. Nobody comes in or out. Sara, stay here." Coulson walked towards the door Tony went through.

Fitz stood by the table, looking at Whalen's body.
"What if this weapon overloaded the brain past the threshold of its electrical capacity causing it to discharge like an E.M.P.?" he asked.
"You're assuming we're dealing with an external source," Simmons said.

There was a beeping in the background while Fitz-Simmons discussed. Skye turned and looked at the computer.
"I'm saying it was something from inside him," Simmons said. The beeping noise drew Simmons' attention and he turned.
"Somethings happening," Skye said. Fitz turned to look at her.
"Satellite's picking up another reading," he said.
"It's coming from the firehouse," Skye told them.

Tony stood in the middle of the kitchen, turning around. Coulson entered through the door, his arms at his sides.
"That humming noise, you hear that?" Tony asked.
"No, I don't," Coulson shook his head. "Where you in New York with Mr. Cross and Mr. Whalen after the Chitahuri invasion?"
"Come on, you don't hear that?" Tony asked. He tilted his head, listening closely. "It's driving me nuts."
"Mr. Diaz, are you with me?"

Coulson pulled his gun, aiming it at Tony as a pan started floating midair.
"Whatever you're doing, make it stop," he ordered. Tony held his hands up, looking confused.
"I – I'm not doing anything!"
"Where's the weapon?" Coulson asked. Tony's look of confusion only deepened.
"The… what?"

May's voice came over Coulson's earpiece.
"Coulson, I found it. It's a Chitahuri helmet." May pointed a camera at the helmet and took a picture. "Fitz-Simmons, are you seeing this?"

In the lab, Simmons turned to look at the monitor.
"It's not a weapon… yet it caused a cranial discharge." She grew lost in thought.

In the firehouse, Coulson still had his gun aimed at Tony.
"What are you doing with the helmet?"
"What, the – the alien thing? It, it's a souvenir." Blue electricity discharged from Tony's hand, hitting a frying pan floating in the air. It landed with a thud, scaring Tony. "Ah! Not again!"
"Answer the question, Mr. Diaz, what are you doing with the helmet?"
"The first time anyone's touched it since New York was a couple nights ago."
"Why?"
"It had rust all over it. We were cleaning it."

In the other room, Sara stopped mid-pace.
"That wasn't rust!" she and Simmons realized at the same time.
"May, don't touch it!" Sara ordered. May quickly backed away. "Sir, he's not using a weapon. He's infected."

Tony started pacing and seemed to be in pain.
"Yes," Simmons said. "I think the helmet was a source of an alien virus."
"All we did was clean it, I swear," Tony cried. "Me, Frankie, and Adam, we, we were bored on the third shift, so – so we decied to clean it."

Ward, May, and Sara appeared in the doorway behind Coulson along with another firefighter. A look of realization crossed on Tony's face.
"Adam and Frankie…"
"Mr. Diaz, I'm putting the gun away now, okay?"
"Sir, he's at 600 megajoules and climbing," Simmons buzzed. "Sir?"

Coulson turned and looked at the group in the doorway.
"Clear everybody out," he commanded. "Clear everybody out, now!" They did as he said, and he closed the door.
"I – I'm going to wind up like them, aren't I?" Tony asked. Coulson sighed deeply.
"Why don't you have a seat?"

Staring at him wide-eyed for a moment, Tony robotically walked to a chair and sat down heavily. Coulson walked closer to the table, but didn't sit.
"You have any family, wife, kids?" Coulson asked. Tony shook his head. "Is there anyone you want to talk to? Anything I can do?"
"Sir, you have to get out of there right now! He's going to –"

Fitz' words were cut off when Coulson removed his earpiece and set it on the table. He walked around to the other chair and sat.
"Listen to me." Tony looked up. "I've been where you are right now. So please, believe me when I tell you, you don't have to be afraid." Tony have him a confused look.
"What are you, what are you talking about?"
"Your job. Gets pretty dangerous, doesn't it? Mine too. I got hurt once, pretty bad. And I… I died. Some say it was only 8 seconds, but I know it was more than that. I know I wasn't here anymore. I was there."

Tony hesitated with his next question.
"What… What's it like?" Coulson gave him a tiny smile.
"It's beautiful." Tony looked down, thinking. A knife on the table began to levitate. They both looked at the knife for a minute. Then Tony looked at Coulson and started nodding his head.
"You better get going, buddy."

All Coulson did was stare at him.
"Go." Coulson stood up from the table and walked out of the room. When he exited the firehouse, the garage door closed behind him. Coulson walked out and stood next to Sara, watching it all go down. A bright blue light seeped out from the firehouse, casting them all in its light. There was a loud zapping sound, and the light went out. Coulson looked down to the ground sadly.