Skye sat in the corner of her holding cell, her legs pulled tightly to her chest. The gauntlets on her wrists dug into her skin, their weight constantly reminding her how far she'd fallen. She hadn't seen daylight in two days, and the once-quiet hum of the base now felt suffocating.
When the door opened, she flinched instinctively. Gonzales stepped inside, his imposing frame filling the doorway. Behind him, two armed agents stood at attention.
"Miss Johnson," Gonzales said, his tone clipped and formal. "Let's talk."
Skye didn't respond. She kept her eyes on the floor, her jaw clenched.
Gonzales stepped closer, his boots echoing against the metal floor. "This silent treatment isn't helping your case. You're here because we're trying to protect people. Including you."
Skye's head snapped up at that. "Protect people?" she repeated, her voice laced with disbelief. "You've got me locked up like a criminal. You call this protection?"
"It's necessary," Gonzales said, his tone unyielding. "You're on the Index now. That means precautions have to be taken."
Skye let out a bitter laugh. "Precautions? Is that what you call these?" She raised her hands, the gauntlets gleaming under the fluorescent light. "You don't even know what these powers are, and you're already treating me like a weapon."
Gonzales' expression hardened. "You are a weapon, Miss Johnson. Whether you like it or not. And until we can be sure you won't hurt anyone, this is where you'll stay."
Skye felt her powers stir beneath her skin, the ground beneath her trembling ever so slightly. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm. "You don't know anything about me," she said quietly.
"I know enough," Gonzales replied. He turned to leave but paused in the doorway. "If you cooperate, this will go a lot smoother. Think about that."
The door slammed shut behind him, and Skye was alone again.
Bobbi stood in the observation room, watching Skye through the reinforced glass. She had been there for hours, unable to tear herself away from the sight of the girl sitting alone in the cold, sterile cell.
"This isn't right," Bobbi muttered, crossing her arms.
Mack, standing beside her, gave her a sidelong glance. "What isn't?"
"All of this," Bobbi said, gesturing toward the cell. "Skye doesn't belong in there. She's not a threat."
Mack sighed. "You saw what she did at the cabin, Bobbi. She brought the whole place down around her. If we don't take precautions—"
"She was scared!" Bobbi snapped, cutting him off. "And now we're giving her even more reason to be."
Mack didn't respond, his silence only fueling Bobbi's frustration.
She turned back to the glass, her mind racing. This wasn't what she signed up for. This wasn't the S.H.I.E.L.D. Maria Hill had trained her to fight for.
Maria's voice echoed in her memory: "We don't just protect the world from threats, Bobbi. We protect the people who need us most. Even when it's hard."
Bobbi let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through her hair. She had to do something.
That Night
Skye sat on her cot, her arms wrapped around her knees, when the door to her cell opened again. This time, it was Bobbi.
"What do you want?" Skye asked flatly, not even bothering to look up.
Bobbi stepped inside, her expression unreadable. "You alright?"
Skye let out a hollow laugh. "Yeah, I'm great. Loving the hospitality."
Bobbi hesitated, her guilt gnawing at her. "I know this isn't fair," she said softly. "But I'm trying to help you."
Skye finally looked up, her eyes narrowing. "Help me? By locking me up? By letting Gonzales treat me like some kind of ticking time bomb?"
"I don't agree with everything he's doing," Bobbi admitted. "But I thought… I thought it was the best way to keep you safe."
"Safe from what?" Skye demanded, her voice rising. "From myself? Or from you?"
Bobbi had no answer. She turned and left the cell, her mind made up.
Back in her quarters, Bobbi paced the room, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. She had tried to follow protocol, to believe in Gonzales' vision for S.H.I.E.L.D., but Skye's words had shattered that belief.
She scrolled through her contacts until she found the one name she knew she could trust: Maria Hill.
With a deep breath, she hit the call button.
"Bobbi," Maria's voice was sharp and familiar, tugging at memories of long hours spent training under her guidance. "What's going on?"
"It's about Skye. She's… she's not safe here."
"Not safe?" Maria's tone shifted, her interest piqued. "Last I heard, Gonzales was handling her. What's changed?"
Bobbi hesitated. "Gonzales thinks she's a threat. He's treating her like… like a ticking time bomb. But he's wrong. Skye just needs time, guidance. If we push her too hard—"
"—She'll push back," Maria finished, her voice calm but firm. "And you think that's where this is heading?"
"I know it is," Bobbi said. "She's already scared out of her mind. The longer we keep her locked up, the more likely she is to lose control. I've seen what she can do, Maria. If this goes bad, it's on us."
Maria was silent for a moment, considering. "What are you asking me to do, Bob? Because if you're suggesting I intervene, you know how that's going to look to Gonzales."
"I don't care how it looks," Bobbi snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "This isn't about politics or power struggles. It's about doing the right thing."
Maria exhaled slowly. "Alright. Where is she?"
Bobbi hesitated again, the weight of her decision pressing down on her. Finally, she gave Maria the coordinates of the base where Skye was being held.
"You didn't get this from me," Bobbi said, her voice firm. "If anyone finds out—"
"They won't," Maria assured her. "I'll handle it from here."
The line went dead, leaving Bobbi alone with her thoughts. She leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes. She didn't know if she had just made the right call or sealed her own fate.
Skye sat on the cold metal cot in her holding cell, staring at the gauntlets on her wrists. They felt heavier than ever, a constant reminder of the powers she couldn't control.
The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the base's power systems. She hated the silence. It gave her too much time to think about the cabin, about Bobbi, about the way everyone looked at her now.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden flicker in the lights. She frowned, sitting up. The flicker turned into a full blackout, plunging the cell into darkness.
Skye's heart pounded in her chest. Something was happening.
Before she could process it, the door to her cell hissed open. She tensed, ready for a fight, but froze when she saw the figure standing in the doorway.
A woman in tactical gear, her face partially shadowed, stepped inside. "Skye," she said, her voice calm but firm. "We don't have much time."
Skye narrowed her eyes. "Who the hell are you?"
The woman stepped closer, and the light from the hallway illuminated her face.
"Maria Hill," she said simply.