Work Text:
A Chance Encounter
by Apple Blossom
Disclaimer: Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D belongs to Joss Whedon, Jed Whedon, Stan Lee, ABC, Marvel Television, Mutant Enemy, and anyone else who wants to lay claim to it.
This story contains spoilers through Aftershocks.
I see the sign I've been looking for and turn my blinker on, directing the car off the interstate and down the exit ramp. I've been heading west for awhile now, always looking in the rear view mirror, checking for trouble, for someone looking to arrest me, or worse. But so far no one seems to care that I am out here. Maybe they think I'm dead. After all four gunshot wounds are almost always fatal. I try not to think about it, or her, as I slow to a stop before merging onto the two lane highway nestled up to the edge of Interstate 40. Beyond the town is nothing but desert for as far as the eye can see and even in early March the sun is bright as it glares off the dusty brown hues of earth. A gas station is on the right and it is what I've been looking for so I pull in and stop at the pump, reaching for a battered baseball cap and pulling it low over my forehead before adjusting my sunglasses. No one pays any attention as I slip my credit card in the reader and place the nozzle into the tank. Nonchalantly I glance around this nondescript town taking in the fading brick buildings that are at least a century old and newer concrete block ones that are less than half that. The town isn't doing well, that much is obvious by the many boarded up businesses, but the gas station is busy as well as the little diner sitting right next to it. For a moment I think about going in, sitting down and having some coffee, maybe lunch even, when something catches my eye. It's an old van, faded blue with California plates and I recognize it immediately.
It has to be her van. How many 1983 GMC conversion vans are even still running today? Everything about it screams Skye, but what are the chances? Why would she even be in this tiny town? How did she get her van back? The last I remembered it had been parked at a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility that had been overrun by Hydra agents. A minor earthquake struck that same base a few months ago according to the news so perhaps it was stolen during that time. It's the only thing that really makes sense to me and I shrug away my thoughts of her as the nozzle clicks off and I return it to the pump before heading into the little store to pick up some food for the road. I wander through the aisles and gather up some snacks and a soda before standing in line to pay. As I wait I can't help but glance back at the van and this time I see her. She is exiting the diner, a brown paper bag in her hand. She is wearing a pair of skinny jeans tucked into black boots with big silver buckles on them. A gray t-shirt is covered by a blue plaid shirt and only the keenest of eyes would notice the slight outline of a gun hidden underneath, tucked into her waistband. Black sunglasses cover her eyes and her dark brown hair is blowing slightly in the breeze. She is either growing out her bangs or in desperate need of a cut but either way she still has the same effect on me as my heart beats a little faster at the sight of her. It's my turn to pay and I hurry to give the cashier my money, wondering again what she is doing here. I grab my stuff and hurry out the door just as someone heading into the diner waves to her. She's obviously been here awhile if people know her and despite my better judgment I am curious to find out how she is doing. After the earthquake in Puerto Rico and the four gunshot wounds, flesh wounds mostly since she hit body armor and only one pierced the skin enough to be of concern, I'd lost track of the S.H.I.E.L.D. team.
She gets in her van and is driving away before I can cross the parking lot and for a moment I think about letting her go. She turns right, away from the entrance to the interstate and once I get the car started I see her turn right again on another two lane road. My head says to forget her. Keep heading toward Los Angeles and the safe house I have there. My heart says something is not right with her and I sit there for a moment mulling over my decision until my heart wins. Turning right leads me past more dilapidated buildings until I get to the next street. Luckily for me the terrain is fairly flat where the road plows through the desert so I see her in the distance. To the right of the highway the earth gives way to gray and red banded rock formations which are more than impressive as they burst upwards from the ground toward the crystal blue sky.
Ahead of me I see the van slowing at the foot of a concrete structure and as she turns right it disappears from view. Signs along the road are directing me to a scenic overlook and it becomes obvious that this is a stopping place for viewing the desert and hiking it. As I approach the building I see it is some sort of informational center with restrooms but the sheer amount of graffiti on the walls makes me question Skye's judgment. And maybe my own as well. I slow the car down and make the turn into what I now see is a decent sized parking lot and grab a spot close to the building. I can't help but smile as I see her sitting cross-legged on top of a battered picnic table, her lunch spread out in front of her. Skye glances my way as I stop the car but she still has her sunglasses on so I can't tell if she recognizes me yet or not.
I realize that this is where I need to make a decision. I can stay in my car and drive away, leaving her be, or I can talk to her and just make sure she is okay. My fingers pull against the door handle and I am out of the car before I even consciously realize it. Slowly I walk towards her and I do she reaches behind her, obviously going for her gun. Raising my hands I say loudly, "Skye. It's me."
Her hand pauses and stops before she grabs the soda in front of her and takes a drink. She says nothing as I approach and finally I come to a stop close enough to where she can hear me without my yelling across the parking lot.
"What are you doing here?" I ask. She holds up her sandwich and I sigh in frustration. She's going to make this difficult.
"Besides that," I add but she just shrugs and for a moment I wonder if maybe she really doesn't know. "Is Coulson around?"
She shakes her head and takes another bite of her sandwich. The silence grows uncomfortable so I say, "I saw you at the diner. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
Skye nods once and I know for certain that something is wrong. She's never been at a loss for words. Especially not around me. She should be yelling at me. Berating me. Something. Finally I tell her, "I don't blame you for shooting me. Message received. Loud and clear."
It's the one thing I am completely certain about. If Skye had wanted me dead I wouldn't be here now having this conversation with her. "That's it. I'll go now."
When she says nothing I turn and walk away, getting in my car and backing out of the space. As I get to the road I stop, waiting for a truck to pass and as I do I look in the rear view mirror one last time. Skye is still sitting on top of the picnic table but her head is bowed and her hand is covering her mouth. Her shoulders shake slightly and I know she's crying. I can't leave her. Not like this. My intuition is right and something is very wrong with her. I back up the car and turn it around until it is parked next to her van and then I roll down the window.
"Skye?" So much more than just her name lives in that one word. I know she hears my concern. Understands that I know her, whether she likes it or not.
She looks at me but I can't see her eyes behind the sunglasses. Finally she speaks, her voice soft and quivering and she says, "Trip's dead."
"I'm sorry," I tell her sincerely.
"It's my fault," she whispers.
"I doubt that," I respond, opening the door and exiting the vehicle. For a moment I think about going to her. Wrapping my arms around her. Hugging her. But she's too closed off and I don't want to push my luck so instead I hoist myself up on the hood of my car, settling back as I ask, "Did you leave S.H.I.E.L.D?"
She nods and now I know things are bad. Coulson had always been overly attached to Skye and before I took her off the Bus to take her to her father I had seen that same attachment between her and May. From the moment Skye had decided to become a S.H.I.E.L.D agent she had never looked back. She'd been driven. Focused. Yet now she just seemed incredibly lost.
"Why?" I ask but only silence greets me. She doesn't trust me and I can't blame her. I've been a part of kidnapping her twice. Putting her in dangerous situations that could have gotten her killed. "I'm not with them anymore. I only went back to Hydra to find your father. I thought if I could find him... If you could meet him... You'd finally understand."
She's been staring down at the dirt beneath her until now and I really wish she would take those damned sunglasses off so I can get a better sense of what she is thinking. Those gorgeous brown eyes of hers have always been so expressive. Always told me when she was happy or sad. Anger, frustration, annoyance, always first reflected in her eyes and then she would let me have it. The Skye I used to know never had a filter and the woman in front of me is so closed off. So not the person I remember. I need to keep talking. Say something so that she'll finally understand that she can tell me anything. I have no other agenda at this moment than staying alive and staying out of jail. I need her to know I won't hurt her again.
"When you told me to pick a side that day, I already had. I picked your side. Not Hydra's. Not S.H.I.E.L.D's. Yours. I only wanted you to know the truth and I really am sorry that it didn't work out."
She nods and finishes her sandwich dropping the remains into the brown paper bag in front of her before hopping down off the picnic table. She approaches her van slowly and says, "It's getting warm out here."
She's right. The sun is directly overhead with no clouds to block its rays and the wind that had been blowing lightly has died down. Grabbing the handle to the door on the side of the van she opens it and glances back toward me. The invitation is clear so I slide down off the hood of my car and follow her inside. All of her Rising Tide equipment is still intact but shut off and it lends credence to my fear that something is seriously wrong with her. Skye flips a switch and the air conditioning turns on before she settles on the tiny bed at the back of the van. Kicking her boots off she pulls her knees close to her chest and motions for me to shut the van door. I do and grab a seat in front of her computers, leaning forward slightly in the small space.
"Skye," I say as the silence overwhelms us. "Why are you here?"
She shrugs and looks away and I can't help myself as I reach for her hand. A jolt of static electricity flows from her fingers to mine and for just a moment I consider pulling back from her, but I see the tears sliding underneath the sunglasses, feel the briefest of movements as the ground trembles slightly underneath the van, and without considering any of the consequences I get up and sit next to her, holding her close. It's been forever since I've been able to touch her and even though I feel the pull of scarred skin as I wrap my arms around her, a constant reminder of what she did to me, and in contrast what I've done to her as well, I realize that I still love her.
"What happened to you in Puerto Rico?" I ask as she reaches for me, holding me close as she sobs. The ground around us continues to shudder and I wonder if we should consider moving to safer ground. Skye takes a deep breath and as she lets it out the quaking around us subsides.
She shakes her head, not wanting to tell me, so I just hold her, waiting until she finally looks up at me. Carefully I reach for the sunglasses, removing them and seeing the stricken look in her eyes. She's scared that much I can clearly see. "Skye, why did you leave Coulson? What's going on?"
"Something's wrong with me," she whispers. "I'm different now."
"Like your mother?" I ask, remembering Whitehall's words. Remembering how Skye picked up the obelisk and it glowed orange, the alien writing all over it.
She nods once, her breathing slow and methodical, as if she is desperate to keep control of herself. "You're really not with Hydra?"
"No," I answer, reaching for her chin and pulling it up softly until she looks into my eyes and sees I'm telling her the truth. "Tell me what happened."
Her voice is soft, her eyes haunted as she relives what happened in Puerto Rico, telling me about her father beating Coulson almost to death. How she couldn't shoot him when she desperately wanted to. She'd threatened his life, told him to go and how he'd told her he would always love her. She told me about trying to stop Raina from taking the obelisk into the alien city and how she was too late. Raina was already in the temple and the doors were closing and Trip slipped in just before they were locked inside. The obelisk had opened and crystals seemed to grow from within until a strange mist burst forth. At first, Skye tells me, she didn't think anything had happened, but when her entire body began to petrify, just like all the others who had touched the obelisk, she thought she was dead for sure.
"Something changed inside me," Skye says. "I caused the earthquake. I killed Trip."
"Skye," I reply, trying to comfort her.
"He wouldn't have been down there if he hadn't gone in to protect me. If I'd just listened to Coulson, none of this would have happened."
"And Coulson kicked you out because of this?" I ask. It doesn't seem possible. The man treated Skye like his own daughter.
"No," she answers. "I left before Jemma figured out the truth."
"The truth?"
"That I changed," Skye replies. "That what happened to Raina also happened to me. That I'm different."
"Jemma wouldn't care," I tell her. "She'd want to help you."
"Not anymore." Skye pulls back and tucks a long strand of hair away from her face before wiping the tears from her eyes. "She'd turn me into a lab rat. Find a way to use me to create an antidote."
"An antidote to what?" At first I think Skye is overreacting a little but then I remember the single-mindedness that was FitzSimmons after Skye had been miraculously cured by the GH-325 alien serum.
"To me. To what I've become. She wants to eradicate anyone that is different. Anyone alien. Inhuman. She thinks we're a threat. I'm a threat."
I take in her words. Alien. Inhuman. Skye a threat? I can't imagine it. "What happened to Raina?"
"She changed. Killed several S.H.I.E.L.D. scientists in the caverns of the alien city. Jemma said she was almost unrecognizable. That her DNA had evolved or something."
I nod. "Raina always said she wanted to become something else."
Silence overtakes us again until I finally ask, "So you caused the earthquake?"
"Yes," she tells me. "And I caused the one at the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility in order to get my van."
"So now you're just hanging out here?" I ask.
"For now." She glances away from me and adds, "I haven't figured out how to control it when I'm angry or scared."
"I think I know someone who can help," I tell her. Skye looks up at me skeptically so I add, "I met this guy when I was doing intake for the Index. As soon as I found him I knew that he'd be in danger if either side knew of his existence so I let him go. I knew what Hydra would do to him if they found out about him and he's not exactly the kind of guy that likes to comply."
"How do you know he can help me?" she asks.
"Because I think he's like you." Squeezing her hand gently I add, "Just meet him. If you're not interested then you don't have to go with him."
"Okay," she answers and I see the hope in her eyes. The yearning for someone to understand her. To see her not as a threat but as someone worthy of his assistance.
Reaching for the cell phone I dial the number I never thought I would need to use. In exchange for his freedom Gordon had given me the number and told me that in case of an emergency I should use it.
"It's Ward," I say when he answers. "I'm cashing in my chip."
I tell him about Skye and a moment later I'm hanging up the phone. "He'll be here in a minute."
"Seriously?" Skye asks, her eyes full of mistrust. As much as she has seen over the past year. As much as she has been through, she still doesn't understand. We hear the crackle of electricity, see it bright and blue through the tiny skylight in the top of the van and the next thing we know there is a knock on the door. Opening it I see him standing there, a baseball cap low over his head and sunglasses covering his face. When he peeks in I see her staring at him in awe.
"Gordon," I say in greeting. "This is..."
"Daisy," he whispers as he sees her and now I'm the one stunned, especially when Skye nods. He's reaching for her hand and without question she takes it, following him outside once more.
"I'm Gordon," he introduces himself to her. "But most people call me Reader. I'm here to show you the way."
Skye looks uncertain, glancing back and forth between us before she says, "How did you know my name?"
"Jiaying was my friend. She helped me when I transformed. I was there when you were born and you look so much like her."
"You knew my mom?" Skye asks and I see the tears that are forming in her eyes. Feel the slight shake of the ground beneath our feet.
Gordon takes her hand and says, "Will you come with me?"
Skye's eyes meet mine and I see the conflict in them. "What about my van?"
"I'll take it with me," I tell her. "Keep it safe until you're ready to come back for it."
"You'd leave your car behind?" she asks.
I shrug and answer, "It's stolen."
"Of course it is," Skye answers and for the first time today she smiles. "Be careful, okay?"
"You too," I tell her, reaching for her hand and holding her close. "You're in good hands."
"I think so," Skye tells me. Gordon nods once at me and touches Skye's shoulder before the two of them disappear within a bright blue light of electricity. I stand there missing her already and finally I go to my car and drag all of my stuff from the trunk before unscrewing the plates from my stolen car. Tossing everything into Skye's van, I climb into the driver's seat and start the engine before directing it back to the interstate. It doesn't take long until I'm on my way to Los Angeles once again. I'll wait for her at my safe house and I know that eventually, no matter how long it takes, someday she will be back again.
The end