Episode Eight: The Well
Part Two

Ward sat on a stool with his shirt off and various monitors attached to his body. Fitz-Simmons were taking readings of everything while Sara sat across from him on the counter and Skye stood nearby.
"This is ridiculous," Ward snapped.
"It's anything but, Ward," Skye scolded. "You passed out. And you weren't acting right."
"Coulson ordered me to give you a full work-up," Simmons said. "And that's exactly what I'm doing. Um, before you lost consciousness, were you feeling claustrophobic?"
"Why?" Ward asked.
"She's ruling out a panic attack," Fitz said.
"I don't panic," he said firmly. "Ever."
"There we go, ruled out," Simmons said weakly.

Sara scribbled something on her tablet and set it down, watching Ward's heartrate with a curious expression.
"Touching the staff caused it, right?" Skye asked. Ward gave her a tiny nod.
"Any residual effects?" Simmons asked. "Are you exhibiting any extra s-strength?" Ward casted a glance past Skye and at the monitor. Coulson was inside the holding cell with Elliot.
"Why don't I find out on that guy?" Ward growled.
"Why don't we not do that," Skye gave him a weak smile.

Fitz looked at him.
"What's the last thing you remember before you lost consciousness?"
"This is a waste of time," Ward snarled. He angrily got out of his chair, putting his hand on the blood pressure cuff on his opposite arm and pulling it out. "We need to find the staff!"
"What exactly do you remember?" Fitz asked. Simmons and Skye were looking at Ward with worry over his display of anger.
"Something I hadn't thought about in a long time."
"Why don't we leave it alone?" Sara said suddenly, reading Ward's face.

Simmons shook her head.
"Well, I mean, he just pulled his arm out of this –"
"Quiet!" Ward snapped as Fitz-Simmons started talking rapidly over each other."I want to hear this." He turned his attention back to the monitor showing the holding cell and hit a button on the tablet, playing the audio.

Coulson glared at Elliot.
"One of my men is hurt, the staff is gone."
"I didn't want any of that to happen," Elliot told her.
"What did you want?" Coulson asked. "The staff's power to yourself?"
"Nothing like that," Elliot shook his head. "You know, I just wanted to be the first to study it. To prove that the Berserkers were actually here, a part of history. You think about that?"
"Oh, I'm thinking about it."

In the lab, the feed from the holding cell was cut off suddenly. Ward stood up taller and looked with anger to see who did it.
"What are you doing?" he glared at Sara. She wasn't intimidated although Simmons ducked behind her. She kept her voice soft and calm.
"Your heart rate's rising, adrenaline's spiking. You need to calm down. Stop getting worked up."

With a frustrated sigh, he looked away, taking a deep breath. He let the breath out slowly, putting his hands on the table in front of him. Skye leaned in close to him.
"The memory was it about your brother?" she asked.
"Drop it," Ward warned.
"Ward, if you need to get it out, I'm here…"
"Right, to talk," he hissed. "Because that's what you do, talk… and talk."

While speaking, Ward leaned in closer to her, his voice getting heated as he spoke. Skye stood up concerned.
"Don't you ever get tired of hearing your own voice." When she stood, he got even closer.
"Ward, stop!" Sara said firmly, putting her hand on his chest, she pushed him away.
"Well, this makes more sense," Simmons said, breathing the tension slightly. "Ward, what you're experiencing, this feeling, it's chemistry."
"Hope so," Skye muttered.
"Yeah. Spikes in his adrenocorticotropic hormone. It's like those stories you hear when a mother is able to lift a car to save her baby."

Ward was listening to her, but was still on edge, gritting his teeth by her tendency to prattle on.
"An adrenaline surge can create a massive –"
"Stop talking! Just fix it!"
"We can't!" Sara snapped back at him. "We can relieve some of the symptoms, but we'd have to give you a dose of Benzodiazepine." Ward glared at her frustrated.
"Chill pill, good idea," Skye said.
"A sedative?" Ward growled. "Not gonna happen."
"Be reasonable," Fitz said. "Look at how you're behaving."

Sara let out a sigh. Not the right thing to say. Ward got close to Fitz, intimidating him.
"And if I'm sedated and we cross paths with those juiced freaks, the ones who flip cars and smash people up, are you going to take them on? Keep us safe? Or am I gonna have to save Simmons… again?" Fitz' face dropped, and Sara grabbed Ward's arm. Ward pushed him away as Sara yanked him out of the lab.

The group looked at each other for a few moments before Simmons shook her head, tears in her eyes.
"That was just a biochemical reaction," she said firmly. "He doesn't mean all that."
"No, I know," Skye nodded.
"No explanation necessary," Fitz agreed. They all broke apart and did their own things, trying to calm down.

Sara glared at Ward. He went to open his mouth, but she stopped him.
"Shut up, Grand Douglas Ward," she hissed. "I will give you that sedative if you don't." His eyes darkened, but he closed his mouth. "You are acting insane. "They are just trying to help you."
"I don't want their help," he spat. "I don't want your help." To her credit, even though the words stung, she managed to keep a placid face.
"Thank you for being honest," she said sarcastically, marching back into the lab. "Stay out until you want to apologize." The door slide shut behind her, leaving him in the cargo bay alone.

In the holding cell, Coulson continued talking to Elliot.
"How'd they find it?" Coulson asked.
"I have no idea how they found it," Elliot said. "They may have the original texts. I wasn't involved. You know, it was just a chance to uncover something that the Gods brought down from the heavens."
"Aliens brought it," Coulson said. "From space. I've spent some one-on-one time with aliens before. Didn't work out too well. So, cases like this are personal to me."
"That's all I know," Elliot said. Coulson stood from the table and walked out of the room. He paused in the doorway. "Get comfortable."

In the cargo hold, Ward stood at the punching bag with earbuds in. He hit it repeatedly, hard and fast as he started having flashes of a memory that plagued him when he touched the staff.

A boy struggled to keep his head above the water in the well.
"Help me!" he cried. Another boy looked down into the well watching the little boy worriedly. Without doing anything, he slowly backed away. "Please! Help me! Help me!"

Violently, Ward hit and kicked at the bag, taking out all his anger on it.
"Ward! Hey, Ward!" May appeared behind him, trying to get his attention. She broke him out of his memory. When she touched his shoulder, he quickly turned around and threw a punch at her. She easily stepped out of the way.

Ward pulled himself back together, panting with exertion.
"You should be more careful."
"I'm fine. You?" she asked. Ward turned back to the punching bag.
"I'm working it out." He gave the bag a hard hit.
"You're punching things," May said. "The last thing you need to do is punch things."
"You got a better idea?" Ward asked.
"Let Sara help you," May told him. "She's willing. You just need to let her."
"The only help I need is to stop those guys before they hurt somebody else." He went back to punching the bag."

Petra and the others all moved in a tunnel, there was yelling happening all around them as they walked. They entered a bigger portion of the tunnels and there were a lot of people cheering and yelling. They could see Jacob in the center of the mass of people, speaking to them.
"We are the new order! Our world is being taken by Gods! We will become Gods and take it back! This is the new order!"

Everyone continued to cheer loudly. Jakob moved out of the place he was standing in to stand beside Petra. He was holding the two pieces of the staff in each hand. He stood before two big men and looked at him.
"Are you ready to take back the power?" Both men looked down at the staff and each took it with one of their hands. It glowed orange. The men grunted and groaned. Petra conformed one of them, then the glowing stopped, and they were both on their knees. Jakob let out a loud roaring scream and the crowd cheered louder.

Coulson sat in his office watching the feed of the holding cell. He looked over at the door when Ward knocked.
"A moment, sir?"
"Come on in," Coulson said. Ward walked into the office and stopped in front of the monitor with his back to it.
"I'm concerned that my exposure to that weapon has compromised my ability to do my job."
"Go on."
"You're familiar with my family history?" Coulson nodded. "So, for obvious reasons, I don't think back to childhood. Ever. There are things I put away a long time ago. On lockdown. Because, to do this, I have to be focused, tactical. I can't be distracted. Especially by things that happened a lifetime ago."
"You're saying, touching the staff unlocked certain memories?"

Ward nodded, "My worst memory." He paused for a moment and when he spoke again, his voice broke slightly. "The first time I felt… hate. And it won't go away. I don't trust myself. The way I went off at Skye, Sara, and Fitz-Simmons in the lab –" Coulson stopped him.
"Grant, with you telling me this, makes me feel I can trust you." Ward nodded his head a few times. "Him on the other hand…"

Getting up, he walked closer to the monitor. Ward turned and looked at it as well.
"I can't get the Professor to talk." He glanced at Ward. "You've got some rage built up. Maybe it's time to let it out." They both looked back at the screen and a small smile appeared on Ward's face.

Elliot glanced at the door as Ward entered the holding cell.
"You need to start talking," Ward told him. "I told Agent Coulson everything I know."
"You're lying," Ward stated. "Tell me what that thing did to me and how to fix it."
"I swear, I don't know!"

Ward pulled a knife out of his pocket.
"Okay then." He lunged at Elliot to stab his shoulder. At the last possible moment, Elliot's hand shot up and caught the blade, bending it. Ward stared down at his hand in shock while it was happening. He pulled the blade away when Elliot released it and looked down at how crooked it was then back to Elliot.

The doors opened, alerting Ward to Coulson's presence.
"You were right. He's Asgardian," he said. Coulson stood in the doorway with a little smirk.
"Good or that would have been embarrassing." Elliot looked at him and gave a little shrug.

Easily, Elliot snapped the handcuffs that were holding him. Coulson walked over to the chair opposite him while Ward leaned against the door with his arms crossed.
"Okay, I have to know," Elliot said. "How did you figure me out?"
"Did the math," Coulson shrugged. "One, you're not the first Asgardian I've had in custody. You guys don't flinch or panic in captivity. Two, a Waterfield 44? On a lit professor's salary? I don't think so."

Elliot lowered his head.
"And lastly, when I tell someone I've had some one-on-one time with an alien, they tend to be a little curious."
"Well, you're certainly more observant than most, Agent Coulson."
"So, you're the Asgardian warrior who stayed," Coulson said.
"Please don't tell anyone," Elliot begged.

In the Planning room, Fitz-Simmons, Skye, and Sara were watching the feed from the holding cell.
"I had no clue," Fitz said, looking at Simmons. "Did you?" Simmons shook her head. "Hidden in plain sight, an actual Asgardian," he whistled. "Brilliant."
"How long do you suppose he's been on our planet?" Skye asked.

Sara shrugged, watching the feed with calculated eyes.
"A thousand years, maybe more," she guessed.
"If we could cut him open a little bit…" Simmons said dreamily. Skye shoot her a look while Fitz nodded his head in agreement. "… get some tissue samples, maybe some bodily fluids, we could find out."
"Or… we could just ask him, weirdo," Skye chuckled. "This is way, way better than the History Channel. I mean, this guy has lived through all the scary stuff, the Crusades, the Black Death, Disco."

May entered the Planning Room. She was holding a tablet and hitting buttons on it.
"What are you doing?" Skye asked.
"Sealing the interrogation room door," May answered. Simmons looked over at her confused.
"Coulson's orders," May added.

Elliot looked at the door as they heard a loud clicking sound.
"Ah, locking me in. Well, I've been in tighter spots." Ward shook his head.
"This room is made of a silicon carbide-coated vibranium alloy. Meant for prisoners like yourself."
"But you're in here too," Elliot reminded him. "And eventually, somebody will open that door."
"Not if I tell them not to," Coulson disagreed. "So the myth is your autobiography?"
"I didn't write it. I didn't want anyone to know about me. Then I had to open my big mouth."

Ward frowned at him.
"Were you captured? Tortured?" Elliot shook his head.
"Horny. I met a French girl in 1546. Ah, she loved stories. So… I told her a great one. All about the peaceful Asgardian warrior who stayed. Now, how was I to know her brother, the priest, would write it all down and turn it into, I don't know, a thing?"
"Do you know Thor?" Coulson asked.
"Oh, sure. I spent all my days palling around with the future King of Asgard," he said sarcastically. "No, I don't know Thor. I was a mason. I broke rocks."

He chuckled softly.
"For thousands of years. If you can imagine that. So, when they came, asking for people to fight, yes, of course I signed up. I think, really, I just wanted to travel."
"But you had the staff," Ward stated.
"I hated that thing," he grumbled. "Other guys loved all the power that comes with rage. No, I didn't like it at all."

Cocking his head, he leaned closer to Ward.
"And you don't, either it seems."
"What did it go to me?" Ward asked.
"It shines a light into your dark places. Doesn't matter if you're human, Asgardian, the effect is the same. Unpleasant."

Straightening himself, he looked at Coulson again.
"It was forged from a rare metal and reacted to whoever was holding it. Or interacts. I went through such great lengths to make sure that the staff wasn't found. Unfortunately, since the myth was written down, people have been searching for it for centuries."
"I need your help to stop them before they get the last piece of your staff," Coulson told him.
"Oh, I'm a pacifist now," Elliot sat back.
"And you don't want to risk your identity being discovered," Coulson deadpanned.
"Listen, I wouldn't worry too much about these angry youths. They always calm down, and eventually, they die of old age. That's one of the pleasant aspects of life here. Everything changes."

Ward looked away frustrated by not getting the info they needed.
"I'll tell you want's gonna change, your anonymity," Coulson told him. "Unless you help us find the final piece of your staff. You may not know Thor, but I do." Elliot slouched on the table in front of him, glaring up at Coulson. Ward smirked and Elliot shrugged, and he sat up a bit.
"My first love on this planet was Ireland. There was a monastery, and the monks gave a nice, warm place to sleep, some soup, and some mulled wine."
""Near God,"" Coulson recited. Elliot pointed at him, letting Coulson know he was right.

Elliot stood in the cargo hold, waiting for the others. May walked by, giving him a dirty look and continued on her way. Ward walked up to Elliot and opened a small case showing him the contents. He reached in and started taking things out. Ward leaned in closer to him, keeping his voice low.
"The effects of the staff, are they permanent?" Ward asked.
"The strength wares off," Elliot told him. "You will feel exhausted afterwards. You'll need sleep."
"What about…" He lowered his voice even more as he caught sight of Sara walking down the stairs. "… the other effects?"

The Asgardian pursed his lips together.
"Oh, that dark, nasty ache in the pit of your stomach. The rage in your chest that makes you feel as if your heart's about to explode." Ward took a shaky breath and nodded his head. "It's worse on humans. But give it a few decades, and it'll wear off, too."
"Great," Ward snapped. He turned away, slamming the case shut.

The loud sound made Sara glance at him from the corners of her eyes.
"Are you sure Ward's okay to go out into the field?" Skye asked. "He's not exactly acting like himself."
"But he knows it," Coulson said. "He'll be fine." Coulson walked away, a concerned Skye looked to May.
"I'm with Coulson," May said. Sara shrugged when Skye turned to her.
"He'll be fine, Skye. Super Spy, remember?"

The team entered the monastery with Elliot leading the way.
"Well, it's been awhile," Elliot said. "I wonder – ah, yes. There is it. Still here." He walked to the front of the room where a book was set up on a stand. "Well, the nose isn't quite right, but…"

The group looked down at the drawing of a man wearing long robes and holding a staff.
"That's you?" Fitz asked.
"Yeah, they venerated me a bit as a saint," Elliot shrugged.
"They're idiots," Ward growled. They all turned to look at him. "Where's the staff?" he asked.
"It's upstairs," Elliot answered.

He led the way and the others followed. Skye and Sara trailed in the back.
"Is that the normal Ward or the new angrier Ward?" Skye asked.
"I can't tell," Sara answered. "But stop worrying about him, Skye. He'll be okay, I promise."

Upstairs, Elliot led with May and Ward with the rest following behind.
"It's quiet," May mentioned.
"Why do you think I trusted them with my secret?" Elliot asked. "They took a vow of silence." Elliot stopped in front of a cabinet and worked on getting it open. Jakob appeared from behind one of the walls, holding the staff.
"But when you get them talking, they squeal."

Holding up the staff, he stabbed Elliot in the chest. Elliot fell to the ground.
"If you want to defeat a god, you must become one." Jakob held a piece of the staff in his hand and pointed it at the group.

Ward bent down to Elliot, grabbed the staff that was sticking out his chest. The staff once again glowed orange as did Ward's hand. He panted with the rage filling him. He once again saw flashes of the well as he pulled the staff from Elliot's chest and screamed. He threw himself at Jakob and they both went over the banister railing to the floor below.

Jakob recovered first. He picked Ward up like he weighed nothing and slammed him back down to the ground. Coulson, May, Sara, and Skye were upstairs looking down at what was happening.
"We need to help him!" Skye shouted. She ran off and May sighed.
"I'll get her."

Sara and Fitz-Simmons hovered around Elliot, trying to save his life.
"How is he?" Coulson asked.
"I don't know what to do," Simmons told him. "He's not human."
"He's dying," Coulson stated.
"We know, but she doesn't understand his anatomy," Fitz said.

Grimacing, Sara shoved her hand into the hole in Elliot's chest.
"What in God's name?" Simmons scolded.
"Oh, my God," Fitz blanched.
"Sometimes...," Sara took a deep breath. "You just have to jump in and figure things out. Now, Asgardians regenerate faster than we do. Maybe we can keep him alive long enough –"
"For his body to heal itself," Simmons finished.
Sara nodded, "What am I looking for?"
"His heart."

Downstairs, Ward was being thrown around the room. He hit a wall, landing with a hard thud. He paused for a moment when he stood, memories from the well entering his mind again.
"Help me." Ward hit Jakob when he got close, no longer having any problems.

Sara sucked in a breath when she felt Elliot's heart.
"Oh, okay. I think I go it."
"Oh, yeah?" Simmons asked.
"Heart," Sara squeaked.
Can you feel a tear or rupture?" Fitz asked. Sara glared at him, she was feeling a lot of things at the moment.
"Clamp down hard on his heart, try to slow the bleeding," Simmons ordered

Ward stood, panting hard after hitting Jakob. Skye rushed up behind him.
"Grant! Drop the staff," she said.
"Get away from me," he snarled. May ran up behind Skye.
"Agent Ward," she warned.
"This isn't you," Skye said, walking closer.

The door was kicked open and Ward turned towards it. Skye looked around as the rest of Jakob's group entered the monastery. May grabbed Skye's shoulder, pushing her back.
"Get back," Ward called. He bent down and picked up the section of the staff that Jakob had dropped, now holding onto two staffs. The memories became ever stronger.

"Please! Help me!" Another boy was looking down into the well.

The room was filled with big rowdy men all yelling at Ward. One guy walked forward, and Ward fought him. He stabbed the man in the gut with one of the staff pieces and threw him against the wall.

The little boy gasped and went under the water. He was fighting hard to keep his head up. He saw the boy at the top of the well and reached for him.
"Grant! Help me!" Grant looked down into the well. The little boy's voice was filled with fright and sadness. "Grant! Please! Help me!"

Grant disappeared from the edge of the well and the little boy went under the water again. When he surfaced, he saw Grant come back to the well, holding a rope.
"Grant!" the little boy cried.

Another boy, older than Grant, walked up to him.
"Not yet, Grant," he smiled.
"Help me!"
"But he's gonna –"
"Not yet!" the older one hissed. "Throw him the rope and I'll throw you in there, too."

The boy in the well began to cry hard. Grant had tears doing down his cheeks and he sniffled.
"Please!" the boy begged. The older one walked away, leaving Grant beside the well. "Grant!" Grant looked over his shoulder than lowered the rope. The boy went under the water a few times as Grant looked around.

Inside the monastery, Ward was kneeling on the floor, holding both pieces of the staff. All the men who had entered the monastery were in heaps on the floor around him. Ward shakily dropped both pieces and collapsed to his elbows.

Skye hurried over and knelt in front of him.
"Oh, my God. Are you okay?" she asked. She put his arm around her shoulders, helping him up. May walked over towards them and the door opened behind her. Petra was there with the third piece. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Skye groaned.

Wearily, Grant sighed and went to pick up a piece of the staff. Just as he was about to grab it, May's hand grabbed his wrist, stopping him. He looked up at her.
"This time let me help," she said firmly. Ward dropped his head and closed his eyes, exhausted.
"Okay."
"Come on," Skye said, helping him to his feet.

May watched Petra as Skye helped Ward away. Petra gasped when she discovered Jakob's fallen body. May went to the two pieces. She hesitated for a moment then gripped them both. Both pieces glowed orange up onto her arms.

The man who entered with Petra saw what she had done and rushed at her. May stood up with a scream and engaged him. She swatted him aside, but Petra rushed at her. The two fought, using their pieces of the staff.

Knocking Petra to the ground, May hissed in pain as the last piece joined the pieces in her left hand, glowing orange. May looked at the piece in her right hand and joined that with the other combined pieces, completing the staff.

Petra got to her feet, still loopy from the hit May delivered.
"I am not afraid of you." She started to May and the agent hit Petra hard in the face with the complete staff and a roar of anger.

Once Petra was taken care of, May kneeled on the floor, dropping the staff. Her hands shook when she did so. She looked over at Ward and Skye. Ward gave her a little nod of his head in acknowledgement. She returned the nod.

Upstairs, Elliot took an unsteady breath.
"Am I dead?" he asked, opening his eyes.
"Apparently not," Sara said, pulling her hand out of Elliot's chest. Fitz-Simmons chuckled, and Elliot gazed up at Sara.
"You are easily the most beautiful thing I've seen in a thousand years," he said. She gave him a small smile than looked to Coulson, sighing in relief.

The morning sunlight streamed through the windows of the monastery. Fitz-Simmons stood with Skye.
"Sara did that?" she blanched. "Just shoved her hand inside?"
"Well, she had too," Simmons shrugged. "I froze, didn't know what to do."
"Hey, you didn't freeze," Fitz told her. "You just weren't up for the…" Simmons scoffed. "… Idea of putting your hand inside somebody else' chest," he finished.

While Fitz was talking, Simmons cellphone was ringing in her back pocket. She pulled it out and looked at the display. It was her parents again.
"Maybe I should jump in," she said.
"Yeah," Fitz agreed. She clicked a button and answered the phone, walking away from Fitz and Skye.
"Hi, dad. Yeah, it's great to hear your voice, too. I've been meaning to call you for a couple of days. It's been a difficult couple of weeks."

Simmons walked past where Ward and May were sitting, both looking drained from their ordeal.
"When you held it, did you see anything?" Ward asked. May nodded her head. "Then how? How did you hold all three?"
"Because I see it every day." May stood and walked away. Ward watched her go before setting his gaze on Sara, who had joined Fitz and Skye, her head on Fitz' shoulder.

Coulson knelt above the complete staff. It hadn't moved from the spot where May set it down. He had both of his hands clamped, but one slowly released the other. That hand started towards the staff as Elliot walked up.
"I know that look," Elliot said. "You're tempted. Now, what is it you want to see?" Coulson looked at him.
"You and I have a lot in common. We've both been stabbed in the heart."

He stood, his hands falling to his sides.
"I was killed. Well, almost. I'm hazy on that. Afterwards… is kinda blank. I have no memory of being revived, of being in a hospital. Just… woke up a few months later."
"And are you haunted by it, Mr. Coulson?" Elliot asked.
"No. Not exactly."
"Then… what's the problem?" Elliot asked. Coulson looked at him then down at the staff.
"I suppose you're right."

They stepped away as others came to contain it.
"Can we give you a lift back to the university?" he offered.
"Well, you know, with Europe's new fascination with all things Asgardian, I'm wondering if it's time to start over somewhere else."
"Nice beach? Life of tropical drinks and massages?"
Elliot grimaced, "Mm, oh, I'd get bored."

Coulson smirked, "You should consider the American Northwest. Maybe Portland. Good food scene. Great Philharmonic."
"Well… if you would come and visit," Elliot pondered. "It's not everyone I get to share my stories with."
"Sure," Coulson agreed. "And if Thor's in town, I'll introduce you."

Ward sat inside at the hotel bar. He had a drink in front of him, but he wasn't drinking it. He looked lost in his own thoughts. Skye walked to the bar and stood next to him.
"Hey," she greeted. It took a moment, but he looked over at her.
"I could get used to the turndown service and little mints on my pillow," Skye said.
"Overnights aren't standard," he told her.
"We deserve a nice night," she shrugged. "Especially you."

Skye looked him over as he shrugged in agreement.
"How are you feeling?" Skye asked.
"Not great," Ward answered. He glanced up at her then away. Then he looked up at her and held eye contact for a moment. "I'm sorry. For before," he muttered. "I'm… I'm not that guy."
Skye chuckled, "You're a guy who saves lives. I can overlook a little Hulk rage. No harm, no foul."

He gave her a wry smile.
"Does everything just roll off your back?" Ward asked.
"No. If I helped, I'd rage all the time, but it doesn't."
"What I saw…" When he spoke again, his voice broke. "It was about my brother." Skye leaned in a bit closer. "
I figured. I know you're not one to talk, but like I said, I'm here. My shoulder's free." He took a deep breath and looked down at his drink.
"I've got to find Sara," he sighed, taking a gulp. "Have you seen her?"
"Her room," Skye answered with a smile.
"Thanks." He walked away, Skye watching him go.

Sara was running a brush through her hair when someone knocked on the door. She walked over to it, peering through the peephole. She opened it, seeing Ward.
"Yes?" she asked, her voice calm, but cautious.
"I'm sorry," he said, glancing at the ground. Sara smiled, opening the door wider.
"Forgiven. Want to come in?"

Ward's brow furled.
"That's it?" he asked.
"What it?" she asked, setting the brush on a small table. "You said sorry. What more do I need?" He chuckled, wrapping his arms around her.
"You're too easy, Agent Reyes-Fitz." She laughed as he backed her up against a wall, lips attaching to hers as he kicked the door shut with his foot.

There was soft music playing on a bright tropical beach. Coulson was lying on a massage table inside a bungalow, getting his back rubbed. His eyes were closed, but they slowly opened.
"Did I fall asleep?" he yawned.
"For a little while," answered his Masseuse. "But that's good. It means you are relaxed."
"That's precisely how I'm feeling, relaxed. Honestly. Tahiti's too good to be true."
"I know," the woman agreed. "It's a magical place."

Suddenly Coulson gasped himself awake in his bed. For the tranquility his dream just showed, he woke sweaty and looking afraid. He was panting with fright as he looked around. What had he just seen?