Chapter Text
A young girl looks up at the sky. At the stars. She can see them so clearly tonight. She can’t always, in the city, but tonight, the starlight rains down on her. Her dad taught her about the stars a few years ago and maybe she is too old to still be finding such wonder in them but she can’t help it. She looks up and it is as if the whole universe is staring back at her.
She likes to imagine that she is not so alone as she sometimes feels. That someone else is looking up at these same stars, and understands. She likes to imagine that one day they will find each other. She wonders if you can love someone who you’ve never met. It’s a silly idea. But still, she looks up at the stars. The air is cool and crisp and the wind blows gently though her hair. She closes her eyes and for a moment, she is free.
A scream splits through the peaceful night.
“Mom?” Daisy turns back to look at the house. Smoke. Fire. Before she can so much as move someone grabs her arm. She tries to scream but a hand is held firmly over her mouth.
“Shh. Shh. Daisy. It’s me.” It’s her dad.
Daisy looks at him, eyes wide with terror. He puts his finger to his lips then leads her to the shed. He opens up the storage chest, hurriedly removes the tools that were in it, and gestures to it. Daisy looks at the chest, looks back at her father.
“Dad, what’s going on. Where’s mom. We need to put out the fire.”
“We can’t. There’s people here. For you. They want to hurt you.”
Daisy inhales sharply. “Mom?”
He swallows. “I couldn’t protect her.”
Daisy puts her hand over her mouth to cover her sob. No. No.
“Daisy,” her dad says urgently, “You have to hide. Let me protect you.”
She turns back to the chest and crams herself inside. And then the world is dark. Daisy swears she can hear her own heart beating, thumping at her chest in horror and terror. They’re coming. Not her dad too. Please not her dad too. The smell of smoke fills the tiny shed and the even smaller chest. She takes shallow breaths as she feels the contaminated air burn her lungs. There is ash on her skin from their brief run across the backyard. Sweat drips down her face and her eyes water. Not her dad. Please not her dad too. The door opens.
Daisy hears a muffled voice but she can’t tell anything about its speaker. She tries to hear what they are saying, but she can’t. Her dad is screaming and then there is a series of loud bangs. And a thump.
She can hear footsteps walking slowly towards her.
The lid to the chest creaks open and Daisy sees them. They are wearing some sort of gas mask.
“No,” Daisy begs. “Please.”
The masked stranger raises their hand. A sharp pain hits her head. And then nothing.
Many miles away Jemma Simmons is fourteen years old and living away from home for the very first time. She had completed her bachelors degree and now as part of an exchange program she is in Scotland for her PhD. She was staying with the Fitz’s, Alistair and his son Leopold. Leopold was her age and he was also getting a PhD. He was engineering while she was biochem and they fit in a way that nothing had her whole life.
Leo was her first friend, her best friend, and okay, her only friend. She had been so lost and alone before. The only person her age in any class she took. Intelligence that outpaced and frequently annoyed everyone around her. Her parents had no idea what to do with her. There was something missing from her life and it didn’t make any sense but she could feel it. This sense of loneliness that was almost a physical presence. This emptiness. And then she met Leo, and she owed him more than she could ever say.
She looks up at the stars one night and she is overcome suddenly with the strangest sensation of loss. And her heart aches almost with a physical pain. She wants to cry. Something is wrong.
Leo gives her a confused look. “What is it?”
Jemma shakes her head. “Nothing, I just. I had the strangest feeling that something awful just happened. Or, is going to.”
He looks at her skeptically. “In the heavens,” he jokes.
Jemma just frowns.
“I… I mean-”
“No, you’re right. Of course. It was just…a feeling.”
He nudges his shoulder against hers. “Nothin awful is going to happen to you. I won’t let it. Promise.”
Jemma smiles at him. Pushes aside the loneliness and the loss. She hasn’t lost anything. She has everything right here. “Brave Leo,” she teases playfully. It’s not forced. It’s enough. It is.
The air is hot and humid inside Skye’s mask. The mask is a rabbit. A twisted ugly grinning terrifying rabbit, because her partner has a messed up sense of humor. Skye turns and looks into the eye sockets of said partner’s creepy ass pig mask.
“Come on!” Skye shouts. “Come on come on!”
The gun is heavy in her arms. Trained unsteadily at the hostages. She keeps looking behind her to check. They’re taking too long. Loading supplies into the duffle bag.
Her heart is racing. When she first saw the plan, right down to their stupid masks, she thought it was insane. Now she knows it is. They were never going to get away with this. There was no way. She turns again to check.
As she does one of the hostages launches forward, grabs her gun, and disarms her. He stands, finger on the trigger.
Bang.
Blood splatters everywhere.
He drops to the ground.
Skye breathes. Holy shit. Okay. Okay.
She hears the sirens. They’re coming.
Her partner, smoking gun in one hand, tosses her the bag of supplies with the other. They take off. And Skye trips. Over his fucking body. Supplies spew out everywhere. They’re going to get caught. They look at each other. Her partner runs but Skye is frozen.
The door bursts open. They’re here.
Hydra.
They storm in the building wearing tactical gear, all pointing guns at her. Skye puts her hands up automatically. They grab her by the arm, force her to her feet, and rip off her mask.
Her heart is pounding, adrenaline racing through her body, but she smirks up at them. “Hey? What up?”
One of them raises his gun and all she can think is ‘not again’ and he hits her hard on the head, and the world goes dark.
Run. That’s all she can think. Run. Run. Run. Jemma has never been a fighter, but she can’t think her way out of this one. So what else could she do but run? She stops herself. She can’t draw suspicion.
Walk. Walk outside on an evening just like any other and go about her day. She’s fine. She is. She doesn’t have much time. Night is falling. She knows without even looking that she can’t see the stars tonight. She has never particularly liked this city, but it looks especially ugly like this. She walks past a couple of men. Forces herself to slow down. She catches bits of their conversation.
“You gonna vote?”
“You kidding? And risk getting arrested for ‘fraud’ just”… “next Hydra puppet.”
“Shhh.”
…“not like it’s some big secret.”
…“audio in the drones now.”
“No shit?”
Jemma keeps walking. This is wrong. This is all just, wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. And she thinks not for the first time, how could they have let this happen? How did it get this bad? She tries to think back. She tries to understand but she can’t. Was it so gradual she didn’t even notice. Or was there a singular moment that she could pinpoint. Where she decided to stop caring about anybody else, and to only care about him.
She passes a billboard for a subversive. A TV in a store plays a warning of the Inhuman threat. “If you see something. Say something.”
It’s too much. The security. Chain linked fences with barbed wire. Inhuman stop points and checks. All Jemma has left is the clothes on her back, the necklace under her shirt, and her SHIELD ID. She left everything else behind and maybe it was a mistake because now she can’t even get close. She ducks around a corner and leans against the wall of an alley. Carefully, she reaches into her pocket.
Jemma looks down at her SHIELD ID. She still had it. She was SHIELD. It feels like so long ago. Jemma thinks of her, then. It always came back to her, didn’t it. Even when she tried to push it from her mind. Secrets and feelings she buried. Memories. They had so little time together, in the scheme of things. Surely it should be easier to forget than this. But it always came back. She always came back. Didn’t she?
Perhaps against her better judgement Jemma thinks of her now. The soft shy smile in her mind’s eye is in sharp contrast to the brutally intimidating Triskelion with its Hydra logo glaring down on her. It is gray. And ugly. Jemma shivers. She remembers quiet giggles in the cover of darkness and she remembers innocence shared before it was torn, ripped away from them. She felt so young then. So alive. And for a brief moment, Jemma lets herself think of soft lips pressed to hers and those precious stolen moments that were theirs and theirs alone. She misses her. God, she misses her. How could she have let her go? She has to find her. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Jemma doesn’t know where to start exactly, but the heart of the chaos is as good a place as any.
Almost as if she summoned them Jemma hears the sirens of the police. Before she can think through what she is doing she’s stealing a car and then driving said stolen car and following the cops. Because where the cops were, Hydra would be too. If there was even a difference. And if Jemma could just get close, she could get information. And maybe she could find her.
It’s a long shot, but something must be on her side. Some force drawing them towards each other. Jemma doesn’t believe in this, of course, but it’s a nice thought. And maybe she is owed a little bit of luck at this point, because when they arrive at their location, it pays off. Jemma sees her.
She’s there, right there in front of her. Every thought about luck that Jemma had flies away because this, this is not how she pictured their reunion. She’s too late. Armed men are carrying her out of a building. Her body. The thought intrudes rudely in Jemma’s consciousness before she can force it away. No. She’s not in a body bag. She’s in handcuffs. She’s alive. But captured. Jemma stares at her, reassuring herself. She looks different now but Jemma would recognize her anywhere. Her hair is dark and longer than it was before, well past her shoulders. She looks tired, even while unconscious. Jemma has to save her.
“Daisy!” she screams her name. Run. Run. Run to her.
It’s a terrible idea. It’s not an idea at all. It’s an impulse. She can’t help it. She calls for her. Stepping forward and screaming.
“Skye!” she tries. “Skye! Daisy!”
She wants to run to her. For her to wake up and see her. And she is begging Daisy to please. Just wake up and look. Just look at her. But Jemma is too far away.
When Skye wakes up, she’s in some kind of bunk room. She sits up at once, remembering. She opens and closes her left hand into a fist. It is shaking, but that’s fine. She’s fine. She looks around. The walls are gray and sparse. Across from her is an oddly friendly looking man in a suit, sitting on a chair. Standing behind him like some kind of pissed off guard dog was another man, closer to her age, glaring at her intimidatingly. Suddenly she realizes that the side of her neck hurts. She slaps her right hand to it. There is a bandage there.
“What the fuck did you do to me,” she snaps angrily, feeling nauseous.
“Just a little something to make sure you don’t leave without us knowing.” The angry man says.
“We can talk more about that later,” the other man interjects.
“Where am I?” she asks before he can say anything else.
“Where do you think,” the guard dog man sneers at her.
“Hydra.”
“Not completely useless then.”
“Ward,” the other man scolds.
The man, Ward, scoffs. He paces. “Your death was officially ruled a suicide.”
“My what now.”
The other man chimes in, “Welcome to life after death.”
“Oh,” says Skye. “This is hell. Yeah, that tracks.” So Hydra faked her death and now wanted her to what, fight for them? And they were going to track her to make sure she did?
“Enough messing around,” says Ward. “What’s your name?”
“Skye.”
“No, what’s your real name?”
It was Daisy. The name her parents gave her, before they were murdered. Before her whole life changed and she lost everything. Lost herself and became Skye. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to be telling them that. She glares at him.
“Alright Ward, enough,” says the other man. “I got this.”
Ward glares and then stomps off. Skye honestly wasn’t sure what he was so angry at. Maybe that was just his default state. When the door closes behind him the other man speaks up.
“Hi,” he says with a smile that seemed almost genuine. Skye almost rolls her eyes. What the hell?
“Hi…”
“My name is Phil Coulson. I work for the government. I’m here to offer you a second chance.”
“Why. Why me?”
“You have no personal ties or paper trail. What really got our attention though was that you managed to kill a criminal we were planning to take out. A subversive.”
Skye shakes her head. “I didn’t know that was what they were. They had shit I could sell, that’s all.”
“You’ve been alone a long time,” he says. And Skye suppresses her breath of relief that her partner got away clean. “You don’t have to be alone anymore. How would you like to be a part of something bigger than yourself? How would you like to serve your country?”
Skye glares at him. “Why should I. This country never gave a damn about me.” It was true. She remembers coming to this country as a kid from China and it being less than welcoming. She remembers the cries of her mother and the sound of her father hitting the floor. She remembers foster care and homelessness and the country’s slow and then extremely rapid descent into hell. And she had nothing. Until she met her. And then, for a brief moment-
“You don’t have a lot of options Skye,” Coulson says and he actually has the audacity to look a little apologetic.
Skye snorts. “Of course I don’t. You know, I’m not exactly a team player.”
Coulson smiles at that. “This isn’t exactly a team.”
“I’ll say. So if I say yes, then what?”
“We train you. Assess you. Teach you things you never could have learned otherwise. Give you opportunities you’ve never had. And maybe do some good.”
“And if I say no.”
“I think you know what happens then.”
“So that’s your pitch?” Skye confirms with just a touch of snark. “Be a part of something bigger or we murder you. Is that what happened to you?”
“No. I’ve been with Hydra since the beginning.” His faces clouds over with too many emotions to name.
“Since SHIELD,” says Skye.
He looks at her sharply. Yeah, she wasn’t supposed to know about that. Most people didn’t. But when she dug into her parents murders she found SHIELD (and she found her) and then it wasn’t long before her whole life crashed down around her. That was then. Now, Coulson looks at her and denies her own memories. Her own facts. “There is no SHIELD.”
Skye just rolls her eyes. “Okay fight club.”
“Skye,” Coulson says with that tone.
“So how do you like your job?” she says flippantly. “Benefits good? Vacation time? Health care? Cause you know I’ve got a lot of other offers here.”
“Skye.”
There’s that tone again.
“Yeah okay.”
“Okay?”
Skye takes a deep breath. When she was younger she left and ran and couldn’t stop. She made every wrong decision and hurt anyone who ever gave a damn. And now she’s here. What else could she do but this?
“Okay. Hail hydra or whatever.”
Coulson smiles a bit. “You made the right choice.”
Phil Coulson was giving the newest recruit a tour of the Triskelion basement where she would be staying. All the new recruits stayed there until they proved themselves trustworthy. They were electronically tagged and barred from accessing anywhere beyond their designated locations. The tag had seemed excessive, but The Doctor thought it was necessary. The Doctor.
He had gotten increasingly more paranoid and unrestrained as the years went on. To anyone who met him now, he would seem cold and aloof, and cruel. But years ago, before things had all gone so wrong, he had been, innocent. Phil brings Skye to the dining area and wonders if her eyes had ever held that same innocence. Almost against his will, his thoughts are driven to another woman. Back in the day his partner had had that same defiance, and that same charm.
A call from an approaching Agent Bakshi demands his attention. “Doctor wants to see you in command,” he says. “I can take over the tour for the newbie.”
“Try and behave,” Phil tells Skye.
“Sir yes sir!” Skye says with a mocking salute to boot. Phil chuckles. She was going to be trouble.
Phil swipes his ID and steps into the command center. Leopold Fitz stood imposingly looking at the computers, his crisp suit, polished shoes, and slicked back hair all immaculate. What Phil wouldn’t give to see that kid in a sweater vest. But Leopold thought the position demanded it. It was hard to gain respect when he was that young, late twenties now, but just barely starting them when he gained power. Alistair Fitz had quietly handed the role over to his son and things had shifted. Leopold, desperate for approval, had gone to extreme lengths to earn his father’s respect. Phil had always tried to offer him another way, but it was never enough. Now he was imposing and intimidating. Like his father before him he demanded, if not respect, then certainly fear.
Leo waits until the door has closed and Phil has walked over to him, then he turns ominously.
“Agent Coulson. I have a new assignment for you.” He picks up a remote and points it at a screen. He always did have a flair for the dramatic. “Melinda May.”
“What?” Phil says shocked. He can’t help the simultaneous dread and excitement filling his heart. May. He hadn’t seen her in years. He hadn’t even allowed himself to think her name. They all knew she was out there. There were rumors, but never anything solid. What was she doing back?
“May’s back on the radar. She tripped one of our traps, but she got away. I want you to find her, and take her out. Can you do that?”
“Of course,” Phil says cooly.
Leopold squints at him, assessing. “I know what she was to you.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Phil says but it’s a blatant lie and they both know it. Him and May hadn’t exactly kept the nature of their relationship a secret.
Leo scoffs. “Don’t. I know how I’d feel. If it was my girl who betrayed me.”
“Where is she anyway,” Phil glances around for the woman who was normally his right hand.
“Don’t change the subject. May’s your weakness. You think that you can change her. Get her to see your view. But people like Melinda May, they don’t change. And she’s like a cancer. You have to cut her out, before she kills us all.”
Phil hardens his expression. He’s gotten exceptionally good at this over the years. Sometimes he wonders if he can lie so well because is lying to himself. “I understand. And I’d rather it be me.”
“Good. We all know Mace is just a figure head and muscle. May’s the brains of the Resistance. If we take her out we ensure our safety and the safety of our people for years to come.” His expression softens ever so slightly, “That’s all I’m trying to do here.”
“Of course,” Phil agrees. “That’s all we all are.”
Jemma goes to the base. It’s a bit of a long shot that they’re still using it, but there is really nowhere else she can go. If this doesn’t work then she’s pretty much all out of options. Or at least, she’s all out of good options. No. She can’t afford to think about him right now. She can’t go back to him. She pushes it aside. Into her box. Stay there. Just stay there.
Somehow it does work. And she is knocking on the door of the Hydra Resistance. Of what was left of SHIELD. Gun are pointed at her and there is a lot of shouting. They take her in and interrogate her and then they bring in Mace, the Director. She shows them her SHIELD ID and tells them about how Hydra tried to have her killed. She doesn’t tell them who she is running from. She doesn’t tell them who she is. Or was. She knows that would never go over well. She hopes they don’t somehow recognize her.
It’s all strangers here. Trip is apparently out and everyone else from the team must have long scattered. She doesn’t think about him. She doesn’t. About how she’s been wondering if she ever really knew him at all. She doesn’t have time for that. She tells them she needs a place to stay and they take her to a bunk. She’s just glad that it wasn’t her old one.
Andrew, an agent, shows her the way, as if she doesn’t already know her way around. The Playground. Though she suspects they don’t still call it that. They get to her room and Andrew pauses, staring at her calculatingly.
“Yes?”
“Why are you really here?”
“I’m here for SHIELD. I have always been here for SHIELD.”
“But why now.”
That was the question, wasn’t it. She tries to explain. “I, I had a team, before.” She thinks of them briefly. Of Trip and May. Of him, before… She stops thinking about them. “We were, off the books. But we…I’m alone now. I have nothing left.” It’s honest in a way that she has no reason to be. Except she finds she desperately wants to talk to someone about some of it.
“What do you want from this?” Andrew asks, still not convinced.
Daisy. Jemma swallows her name. “There was, there was someone. I couldn’t get her to stay. I just want to find her. If I could just find her, I think everything would be okay.” She blinks quickly looking away from Andrew and she finds herself as she often does when she is just a touch too emotional, rotating through every constellation that she can remember. Picturing each one of their stars. Her hand goes to her necklace automatically.
“What was her name?”
Jemma hesitates. “Skye.” And there is something about his reaction to it that makes Jemma question, “Do you know her?”
“Yes, I know her.”
Jemma can’t keep the note of broken desperation out of her voice. “Is she…how is she?”
“She’s alright.”
“I saw her get taken.”
“Yes.”
Jemma frowns at that non-reaction. “I’m going after her.” She had already decided. She just hoped for some back up and weapons and if she was lucky, some intel.
But Andrew just shakes her head cutting her off before she can even protest. “Not if you want her to live you’re not.”
Melinda May sits back with a frustrated sigh, staring at her computer and waiting impatiently.
“I’m sure everything went fine,” Trip says soothingly. Just as he says it the computer terminal comes to life. Melinda lets out a slow exhale.
- [shadow_net]:
- Im in.
- [cavalry]:
- Good work.
- [shadow_net]:
- Is Human-Sunshine okay?
Melinda rolls her eyes and Trip grins at the cover nickname. He reaches around her to type.
- [cavalry]:
- I’m good, girl. I had the easy part
- [shadow_net]:
- I mean you died
- [cavalry]:
- Pretend died
Melinda takes back over.
- [cavalry]:
- We’re back at our base. ‘Sunshine’ is heading back to hq. Then it’s just you and me.
- [shadow_net]:
- Just like we trained for
- [cavalry]:
- Be careful. Never forget what I taught you.
- [shadow_net]:
- Couldn’t even if I wanted to
Trip leaves shortly after to head back to the base and then it is just Melinda. She leans back on her chair and looks at the sofa where she had tossed her pig mask earlier.
“Here we go, Skye.” she mutters to herself.
Skye closes the computers connection to May and casually goes to her room. She can do this. Gather intel. Don't get caught. Don't die. She can totally do this. She lies down on her bed with a deep breath. A decade of searching, a year of prep, and it all came down to this. She looks up at the plain ceiling and imagines every star in every constellation she can remember. She wishes she could see them, but she doesn’t need to to know that they are there. She likes to imagine they are watching out for her.
Here goes nothing.