Chapter Text
Within his own mind, he could not escape. It was like watching a movie, as if it wasn’t him making every move, every sound. He wasn’t in control of himself. He was stuck fighting some force that drove him forward, that had his arms and legs moving on automatic, like a machine.
Skye might have been right in her earlier teasing. Maybe he was a robot.
He felt cold, numb. The last feeling he remembers is a slice one of the guards had swiped at him when he was fighting them. And then, nothing.
He remembers everything else, but he doesn’t have any emotions or feelings to associate with them. He thinks one of the men he was fighting might have whispered something in his ear as he was throwing a punch towards his jaw.
He thinks maybe it’s why he doesn’t seem to have control.
When he kills those agents, them and Victoria Hand, he can’t recall wanting to. He can’t recall ever thinking he should do that. But then again, he didn’t want to be on that plane anyways. Somehow, he ended up there anyways.
In some dank and cramped corner of his mind, he wonders if anything he’s done in his entire career is real if somehow he ended up here, sitting stone-faced in a plane with John Garrett, his old SO.
He wonders if maybe he was always Hydra, and everything he ever did was always for the Hydra cause. Saving Simmons from jumping out of the BUS, playing Battleship with Skye, sleeping with May…
Then, he wonders if he never wanted to actually protect Skye. He wonders if he never developed feelings for her. Maybe it was all a glitch in his programming.
Maybe he never felt anything for real.
And yet he wonders if he’d ever get the chance to get a drink with Skye.