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Everything is in ruins, lost and buried beneath the rubble: files; research; data; people. The world feels like it's on fire, like the skies will forever be clouded with smoke and the sounds of everything tearing itself apart. They tried, they all tried so hard. But it seems like it was all for nothing.
She knows that the war is lost when the whispers start spreading around, searing the air quicker and faster than the fires smoking from the craters in the street. Iron Man gone. Thor safely in Asgard, unmoved by their plight. Black Widow and Hawkeye missing. The monster in Dr. Banner finally having won out. Captain America finally dead, a trophy. She doesn't want to believe it but there's a part of her that knows it's true.
And as she stands among the rubble, looking out at the remains of everything that she once had, she feels the truth settle in her chest, the certainty that they have lost, that the many heads of Hydra have finally twisted around them so impossibly tight that they'll never break free again.
Something catches the light of the setting sun, pulling her attention away from the ruined skyline and back toward the debris. She walks through crushed stone, twisted rebar, stumbling, nearly falling. But she finally reaches the object, leaning forward and pulling it out.
The shield is smeared with dust, scratched and in desperate need of a cleaning. But it's not bent, not broken. And a new truth starts to settle in her chest.
*~*~*~*~*~*
"Just for the record, I think this is a terrible idea."
Jemma gives her an exasperated smile. "I forgot that your numerous PhDs in advanced biochemical and medical fields make you qualified to make these types of observations." She teases.
Skye is unimpressed by her comment. "I guess when you become a genius you lose your common sense." She sighs. "Do you have any idea what you're doing?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact I have an excellent idea of what I'm doing." Jemma informs her frankly. "Dr. Erskine's research is quite clear and now that we have his missing files it's been relatively easy to replicate the serum."
"On paper. In a lab." Skye protests and Jemma can see her eyes steadily filling with seriousness. With worry. "But you have no idea what's going to happen in real life. You're just going to try and hope for the best."
Jemma sighs, taking Skye's hand. "Someone has to." She points out gently, patiently.
Skye pulls her hand away. "But why does it have to be you?" She glares at the device waiting in the corner, carefully and lovingly constructed by Fitz and Mack based on the plans left behind by the brilliant man who had come before them. "Let me do it."
The idea seems to pierce her heart and Jemma finally feels like she understands how Skye is feeling at this moment; the idea of injecting Skye with the serum and crossing her fingers makes her want to gasp and fall into a blind panic. It's so much easier to consider when she's thinking about doing it to herself.
She shakes her head. "No, we can't. With your Inhuman DNA, we have no idea how the serum will react. It's not safe." Jemma tells Skye, a mirror of a conversation they've had many times before. "It has to be me."
Skye gives her a look. "No it doesn't."
Jemma lets out an exasperated sigh. "I can do this!" She shouts. "I am fully capable of making my own decisions and understanding the risks. I am capable of handling this."
"I know you are. That's not the point." Skye snaps in return. "I love you, you idiot. Haven't we lost enough already?"
Jemma softens, going to her, putting her arms around her. "You won't lose me." She whispers against her ear. "I promise."
Skye doesn't say anything.
She remains silent even as Jemma readies the machine, the serum, her courage. She watches impassively as Jemma steps into the machine, looking every bit the schooled SHIELD agent that the past several years have made her into. Inside the machine, Jemma can't hear anything and she can only just barely see Skye through the window at eye level.
Everything becomes a blur then, a rush of pain and electricity and something else, something that seems to wrap itself around her body, slipping in through her pores, easing its way into every inch of her muscles, bone and sinew. For the second time, the world seems like it's falling down around her and all she can do is squeeze her eyes shut and grit her teeth and wait to die.
But she doesn't. Eventually it all goes away and she's still standing. Jemma can't decide whether she truly feels different or if it's just wishful thinking. She seems more aware of her body, of how every joint and part of her works together to achieve a desired goal. She can feel the curve of muscles that had been previously left ill-defined even by Skye and Bobbi's attempts at training; she can feel the assurance of her body, promising that it can handle anything she has in mind.
The machine gasps open again and Jemma falls forward, right into Skye's waiting arms. Amidst the celebratory cheers and raucous enthusiasm, Jemma pulls Skye to her and kisses her soundly.
*~*~*~*~*~*
The suit is an older design, left amongst the shadows and cobwebs of the empty Avengers facility in New York. "You look ridiculous." Skye tells her affectionately the first time she tries it on, nearly drowning in the fabric.
Obviously the serum didn't make her exactly like the Captain American that came before her.
Bobbi and Mack manage to make the necessary adjustments, giving her a helmet that pinches her scalp and tangles the hair that falls around her shoulders. When she looks at herself in the mirror, Jemma feels like she's playing dress-up, like she's a little kid getting ready for Halloween but she's no longer masquerading as Agent Carter. She's traded the Union Jack for the Stars and Stripes.
"Looking good, Cap." Skye slips her arms around her waist and for all the changes that Jemma has gone through recently, she still feels like she fits perfectly against her. "Ready to give Hydra the ole one-two?" She smiles.
Jemma turns around to face her, pulling her helmet off and dropping it to the floor. She kisses Skye, taking her face in her hands and tracing the curve of her cheek with her thumb.
These are the rituals that come before going off to war, she thinks: losing yourself in the arms of the person you love, pushing everything else away. Skye gently pushes the uniform from her shoulders and eventually Jemma is able to step out of it, letting it fall to the floor and she's just herself again, trembling in Skye's arms from the headiness of her kisses and the fear and excitement of finally being able to fight back.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Even though they've all seen her before and they've worked alongside one another against a common enemy for years, Jemma can still see the change in this scrappy bunch of misfits who seem to still think it's worth it to at least try when she walks out in her full uniform. Bobbi sits up a little straighter, her hands gripping tightly to the batons in her lap. Fitz's mouth drops open like he's truly seeing her for the first time and Mack lets out a whistle, shaking his head. The other agents seem to inflate, puffing their chests out, their eyes gleaming with possibility and hope. And beside her is Skye, standing proudly as her right hand.
"Let's do this." Bobbi gets to her feet, twisting her batons before snapping them into place at her hip. "They aren't going to know what hit them."
Jemma shakes her head. "Oh, we want them to know." She says. "That's the whole point."
She slips the shield into its notch in the back of the uniform; it feels solid and natural in her hands, like it was made for her to hold and carry.
Skye smiles at her, pulling on her gauntlets. "Let's go be superheroes."
*~*~*~*~*~*
Word spreads quickly, a whisper kept low and secret, passed only among the ears of those who still make up the resistance: the civilians who stand at attention when the Hydra soldiers are around but who plot and scheme and wish when the coast is clear; the agents scattered around the world, hiding their old badges and uniforms beneath the floorboards and promising themselves that soon, soon…; the children who are still young enough to believe in the lessons learned from fairytales and comic books. They're all whispering the same rumor: Captain America and his Howling Commandos are back.
The war isn't lost just yet.
*~*~*~*~*~*
They make a target of the Hydra bases and there are plenty to choose from. They start small, working primarily to send a message, cutting off the smaller heads so that the larger ones realize that there's someone out there still coming for them. If the heads of Hydra realize that it isn't the real Captain America coming for them, it doesn't seem to make a difference. Seeing the shield and the uniform seems to be all that it takes to get them to double security, to pay more attention to the loose ends that are still left. The fact that this Captain America is just as strong and capable as the original, and twice as smart, only seems to make them all the more nervous.
By day they move, keeping low, striking fast and loudly enough to let everyone know who to be afraid of: Captain America, the Mockingbird, Quake and their band of fearless SHIELD agents. By night, Jemma lies in bed with Skye, tracing the bruises on one another's skin and imagining a different world in between kisses. They've barely started the war but sometimes it's all too easy to imagine what it will be like when they've won it.
"Coulson wanted you as the next director of SHIELD." Jemma says, her legs tangled together with Skye's. "Do you think you're still up to the challenge? Rebuilding…everything?"
Not just SHIELD but everything. The world has changed since Hydra showed their strength.
Skye shrugs, as cavalier as always. "Depends. Are you going to be there with me?" She asks, her eyes searching Jemma. "As long as we're together, I feel like we could do anything."
Jemma smiles. "Yes, of course." She says, folding herself against Skye's chest, her head tucked beneath her chin. "Together."
*~*~*~*~*~*
In a grotesque display of power, Hydra has rebuilt the Triskelion for their own purposes, making the building twice as magnificent, making no question about who is in charge. They're done with hiding behind the scenes; out of the shadows and into the light indeed.
It's there that they go next.
The soldiers seem to be waiting for them, the swelling of their numbers a good indication that they're at least starting to make Hydra nervous. They charge in anyway: Jemma crouching behind the safety of her shield, listening to the ping of bullets as the bounce off; Skye making the floor beneath them shake and the windows shatter; the thwack of Bobbi's batons as they hit their targets; gunfire from their own side.
They split up, moving upward. "We need to start targeting the people in charge." Jemma had said on their way to the Triskelion. "The soldiers…they're just canon fodder. We need the men in charge. We need whatever research they're doing, we need weapons…we need everything. Leave them with nothing."
As the team peels off, Jemma and Skye and Bobbi continue heading upward, moving through stairwells, pressing on. They're after a very specific head of the beast.
They find him in his office, seeming unruffled and unconcerned by the chaos unfolding below him. He's got several guards stationed in the room with him, soldiers that he tells to stand down even as Jemma kicks the door open and leads them in shield first.
Grant Ward. This one is quite personal.
Ward doesn't seem surprised to see that Steve Rogers is no longer wearing the suit or carrying the shield. "I had a feeling that it was you." He remarks. "Especially when I saw the camera footage of Skye. I couldn't imagine her following Steve Rogers around like a puppy."
Skye gives him a look. "You're one to talk."
But Ward doesn't seem interested in talking after all. He pulls his own gun, aims it at Jemma and pulls the trigger. She's fast enough to block the shot but the action seems to spur the rest of the soldiers in the room into action and the office erupts into noise and chaos and Jemma's ears are ringing, her heart beating triple time in her chest.
Her only focus is on Ward; the hatred she's felt for him since the moment where they discovered Koenig's body hasn't dulled even one iota. The promise she made to him long before is still fresh in her mind. And now, now she's more than capable of ensuring that she can keep her promise.
Jemma finally gets her hands on him, worried that if she gets her hands around his throat she might not let go until they have one left Hydra head to interrogate. Ward gets her legs out from under her, dropping them both to the ground and he lands on top of her, driving a knee into her stomach. It pushes the breath out of her lungs but she feels calm and steady, listening to the hum of her muscles and the voice in her head assuring her that she is stronger now, capable. Unafraid.
"You can't stop us." Ward hisses and now it's his hand that has found a way around her throat. He squeezes and she gasps but her mind is still even and steady. "We're bigger than you know."
Jemma reaches up, grabbing the collar of his shirt and trying to jerk him back. He grunts but keeps his weight pressed firmly over her. "You're wrong." She manages to get out, her other hand reaching out for the shield that she can see just out of the corner of her eye. "Things are different now. I'm different now. My old weaknesses are gone. And I won't stop until you're all dead and gone and Hydra is in ruins."
Ward smiles at her and pushes himself up, his hand and weight disappearing with surprising quickness. At first Jemma thinks he, too, is going for the shield but he seems unconcerned by the object. "You're wrong." He tells her smugly. "You still have weaknesses."
It all happens too fast, even too fast for her altered body to do anything about. Ward draws his gun again and points it at Skye. He pulls the trigger just as Jemma calls her name and Skye turns her head in time to lock eyes with Jemma as the bullet hits its target. Her eyes go wide, her face contorting with pain; her hand goes to her chest and her palm comes back bloody.
Skye takes a step back and Ward pulls the trigger once, twice more; one of the bullets drives Skye backward, the other hits the window, shattering the glass and the heel of her boot goes over the edge of the sill and even as Jemma is pushing herself to her feet, lunging forward, Skye is gone. Vanished over the side like she was never there at all.
Jemma screams, the sound almost inhuman and unrecognizable as it tears from her throat. Everything else fades away except for the single pinprick of certainty that she has to go after her, that they aren't that high, that she can still do something, anything, to get to Skye.
And she thinks that she would if not for Bobbi, who grabs her around the waist and pulls her backward. "No!" Jemma screams, elbowing Bobbi in the solar plexus. "Let go of me! Skye!"
The words dissolve into mere sounds again as Bobbi pushes her down to the floor. When Jemma looks up again, there's only Ward, staring down at her smugly, unmoved by the scene.
He is one less prisoner that they take back to base with them.
*~*~*~*~*~*
It takes three days before Bobbi barges into her room and throws the shield down on the bed. "You can't just give up." She tells her frankly. "Then they win."
"I don't care." Jemma mutters and kicks her foot in an effort to knock the shield off the bed.
Bobbi glares at her and Jemma thinks they're going to have some sort of stare down. She couldn't be more surprised when Bobbi pushes the shield aside and climbs into bed with her, burrowing beneath the covers.
"You think I don't know how this feels?" Bobbi questions and her voice is still sharp even if her eyes are soft. "Kara and then Hunter…I know exactly how this feels."
Jemma sighs. "Then leave me alone."
"That's not going to solve anything." Bobbi tells her. "You want to feel better? Then cry and scream and punch a wall and then get up, put on your uniform and go kick some Hydra ass. It's a lot more satisfying then punching the wall."
Jemma's eyes fill with tears and she feels like she's being hollowed out all over again. "How am I supposed to do this without her?" She whispers, the words sticking in her throat.
Bobbi looks at her sadly. "As best as you can."
*~*~*~*~*~*
And so she does. She gets up, she puts the uniform back on and picks up her shield and holds her head high as she stands among all the people still counting on her. The base is empty without Skye. She is empty without Skye. But it gives them something more to fight for.
Skye is gone and Jemma is going to hold every member of Hydra personally responsible.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Each day passes with agonizing slowness; Jemma feels like she can feel each minute, each second, carving away a little part of her, reminding her of a moment that Skye will never see. She finally starts to understand the true heaviness of what Steve went through before her; the mantle seems harder to carry now that she's carrying it alone.
More than anything, she feels the guilt of what happened to Skye eating away at her. If only she hadn't faltered earlier, if only she hadn't hit Bakshi instead; if only she hadn't let Ward think he could possibly have the upper hand on her, if she had just taken him down rather than playing cat and mouse with him.
There are plenty of people out there who still need saving but all Jemma can think about is Skye.
*~*~*~*~*~*
A SHIELD team in New York sends off a strange report that immediately catches their attention: Hydra soldiers attempting to reclaim one of their smaller bases; many causalities; a mysterious masked soldier on the roof with a metal arm and deadly aim with a sniper rifle.
Jemma isn't surprised. It's been almost two years since she first pulled on the Captain America uniform, two years since she lost Skye; plenty of time for Hydra to figure out how to manufacture their own super soldier bastardization.
They don't even need to go to New York to tangle with this new enemy. It comes to them.
One of their own agents is hit, dropping to the ground with a bullet square in his forehead before Jemma even realizes that they aren't alone on the weathered streets of DC. Her head snaps up, tracing the direction of the trajectory. She can see the figure on the roof, watching them coolly, calculating. A mask hides the lower half of her face and she's dressed in tactical gear from the neck down. One arm is metal, just like previous reports promised. The other…
Jemma thinks it's the glove more than anything that tips her off. She remembers working hours on crafting the gloves that Skye needed, working shoulder to shoulder with Fitz on a design that would protect Skye while increasing the force of her abilities.
Skye.
Mack pushes her to the ground, protecting her from earning the next bullet between the eyes.
By the time Jemma looks up again, the figure is gone, leaving her with nothing but a tightness in her throat and a desperation in her chest.
"It was Skye." Jemma whispers later as the board the Quinjet. "It was her."
Whether they believe her or not doesn't matter. She knows what she saw.
*~*~*~*~*~*
It becomes more obvious when they analyze the smattering of footage that has been taken of this new Hydra super soldier. There's no denying that this mysterious figure is Skye. Jemma traces her outline with her fingers, lingering on the metal arm and what she suspects might be a metal leg, if the change in her gait is any indication. "What have they done to you?" She whispers.
"They saved her life." Fitz says, even though he knows that her words were just rhetorical. "Whatever they, uh, whatever they've done…those repairs…that's why she's still alive."
Jemma looks away, swallowing around the lump in her throat. "They've made her into a weapon."
Fitz gives her a look. "We have a super soldier, now so do they." He says. "War. They've checkmated us."
Jemma narrows her eyes at him. "How can you so callous?" She hisses. "That's Skye we're talking about. Your friend."
"No, Jemma, no." Fitz shakes his head. "This is what they want; this is the game that they're playing. Do you think Skye would do this on her own? Work for them? Shoot our agents? They've done something to her, they've made her-"
"Stop." Jemma holds up a hand, pinching the bridge of her nose between her friends. "We don't have all the information, we can't just made assumptions."
Fitz falls silent but Jemma can tell that he still has plenty to say. It doesn't matter whether he says them or not; she already knows exactly what's on his mind.
*~*~*~*~*~*
The next time they go toe-to-toe with Hydra's super soldier, it's on the ground. They're taking another Hydra base, taking down the Hydra soldiers like weeds and then there she is, taking down trained SHIELD agents like they're children. Jemma tries to grab onto her, tries to wrestle her down and restrain her but Skye is stronger, harder; she drives her elbow into Jemma's mouth, boxing her ear with her other hand as she swings around, driving Jemma backward and off her feet.
When Skye runs, taking off down one of the hallways, Jemma forces herself onto her feet once more, giving chase. It doesn't matter that she might be following Skye into a trap, that she's thinking with her heart instead of her mind. All that matters is getting a hold of Skye.
"Skye!" Jemma calls after her as they run down the corridor. "Skye, stop! It's me! Please!"
But there's nothing, not even the smallest pause in Skye's stride.
Jemma finally gets close enough to her to close the distance, jumping onto Skye and driving them both down to the ground. She wrestles with her, wrapping her wrist around Skye's metal forearm and trying to push her down, trying to subdue her. Skye pulls her arm free, slamming her palm into Jemma's chest and driving her back, leaving her feeling like she's just been hit with a two-by-four. Her ears are ringing, her body throbbing but still she refuses to go down, refuses to allow Skye to get away from her.
Finally Jemma catches the corner of Skye's face mask, tearing it away. Staring down at Skye's face, unobstructed and so, so familiar, brings tears to her eyes and she draws in a shuddering breath, her chest aching. "Skye." She whispers, reaching for her with trembling hands.
Skye twists out from underneath her, kicking her backward and Jemma knocks her head into the wall. Skye gets to her feet, snatching up the discarded mask. She looks at Jemma, her eyes cold and cruel and unfamiliar. "Who the hell is Skye?"
Jemma doesn't try to stop her this time when she turns and runs, disappearing down the corridor and out of sight. When she's gone, she lets the sob escape from her throat, burying her face in her hands. It's like watching her die all over again, but far, far worse.
*~*~*~*~*~*
"She didn't know me." Jemma tells the rest of the team later, watching as they patch themselves up from the latest mission. Her own injuries are already starting to heal, even the ones that Skye gave her. "She looked at me like I was a complete stranger."
"Brainwashing?" Mack guesses.
Jemma nods. "That's what I was thinking." She replies. "Which means it can be reversed."
Fitz frowns and Bobbi just sighs. "Jemma…"
"We have to at least try." Jemma protests. "I have to try."
No one says anything more, clearly not interested in trying to have a conversation with a brick wall.
Jemma can't sleep that night, her focus solely on Skye. She tries to ignore the fact that there was nothing in her eyes, not a single shred that suggested that she was still Skye somewhere deep down inside. She tries not to let that matter.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Jemma's head swims as the grip around her throat tightens, making it harder to breathe. This is very different from how it felt to have Ward's fingers around her throat, knowing that he wasn't strong enough to hurt her anymore. This is different and Jemma feels her body begin to prick with fear.
She reaches up, wrapping her fingers around the cool metal of Skye's arm. She can't fit her nails into the groves, can't find any purchase, can't begin to save herself. Her mouth drops open soundlessly, gasping for breath.
And staring back at her are Skye's eyes, the same eyes that used to look down at her as Skye moved above her, their touches and whispers soft and desperate. Now there's nothing there at all.
"Skye." Jemma chokes out, her eyes watering. If she dies here, she thinks that it's only served her right. Everyone warned her, promised her that Hydra was playing cat and mouse with her, trying to pull her into a trap. They were, of course, right. "Please. Don't do this."
Skye's hand seems to tighten around her throat, however minutely, and Jemma gasps again, her heels knocking against the wall behind her.
"I know this isn't you." Jemma can feel her body starting to relax, can feel something in her mind promising her that all of this is okay, that they've tried their best and that her team will keep on fighting without her. "I love you."
Her eyes start to roll back in her head but she can still Skye's face as it changes, a tremor of something like fear and surprise passing through her expression. Her eyes widen almost imperceptibly and she tears her hand away from Jemma's throat, dropping her into a heap on the ground.
The building around them shudders, trembling like Skye is trembling, and Jemma looks up at her, the edges of her vision still blurred. "Skye…"
"I…I don't know who that is." Skye whispers, her eyes watery. She looks down at her hands, curling her metal fingers into her palm. "I don't know…"
Jemma tries to push herself to her feet but her body wobbles, unwilling to comply. She still reaches for Skye anyway. "It's okay." Her voice is raspy and desperate. "I can help you."
Skye hits her hand away, taking a step back and the building shakes again. "I don't know you." She growls. "They told me…they told me to kill you. You're just another mission. And next time I see you, I will kill you."
Jemma shakes her head but it doesn't matter. Skye is already gone. Jemma sighs, leaning back against the wall behind her and closing her eyes. Now she's sure, more than ever, that there's something of Skye still left.
*~*~*~*~*~*
It's a device of Fitz's own design that finally allow them to disable and subdue Skye, taking her back to the base with them like that's been the whole point of everything since this started. No one says anything or points out that they're supposed to be taking Hydra apart piece by piece. It seems clear that none of that matters at the moment.
Jemma leaves her uniform and shield behind, going to see Skye in the medical bay wearing sweats and an old tank top, both things that she commandeered from Skye's wardrobe a long time ago. They've had to restrain Skye, keeping her wrists and ankles and waist tied down to a chair in the center of the room. She's given up fighting, seemingly oddly at peace with the restraints, like there's something familiar in all of this.
When she enters, Skye looks at her impassively. "I want to help you." Jemma tells her, struggling to keep her tone dispassionate.
Skye stares back at her. "You can't."
*~*~*~*~*~*
As the hours and days pass, Skye's condition only seems to worsen. She alternates between pacing the quarantine room, snarling at shadows and slamming her fists against the walls, and sitting on the edge of the bed, staring off at nothing. Often times, she doesn't respond to any name they call her, doesn't seem to realize that they're there at all.
"Whatever they're doing to her," Fitz hypothesizes as they watch her through the camera feed, "it's starting to wear off, that's what's making her like this."
A thrill passes through Jemma, a vague whisper of a promise that she forces herself to tamper down.
But Fitz seems to know what she's thinking anyway. "There's no guarantee that she's going to be better." He points out. "They've altered her brain chemistry, her body chemistry…she could likely be like this forever."
"You think I don't know that?" Jemma retorts, scowling at the monitors in front of them. "I understand how the brain works, Fitz. But Skye is still in there."
Fitz nods. "A part of her probably is." He agrees. "But that might not matter."
Jemma thinks it might be the only thing that does matter.
*~*~*~*~*~*
When Jemma goes into the quarantine room later with food that she knows that Skye won't eat, Skye looks up at her and her eyes are no longer feral, simply lost and tired. "What did they do to me?" She asks quietly.
Jemma sets the tray aside, forcing herself to keep a distance between them even though she wants so badly to step closer toward Skye. "Your injuries…they tried to…fix you." She swallows around the words.
Skye rests her hand on the bed behind her, bracing herself as she shifts her body to better study Jemma. "And…everything else?" She asks quietly. "I feel like I've been gone for so long."
Jemma's eyes fill with tears and she nods. "I feel that way sometimes too."
*~*~*~*~*~*
Despite their conversation, there are more days where Skye looks at her like a stranger than someone she remembers. There are plenty of days where she can't stop her pacing, wearing a hole in the floor as she mutters to herself, shaking her head and trembling and threatening to bring the building down on all of them. But there are also days where Skye seems to soften, where she seems to remember herself a little bit more.
The world doesn't stop, the resistance doesn't come to a stretching halt, waiting for Jemma to pick herself up off the ground and pick up the shield again. She has to do it anyway, leaving Skye behind in the hands of people she trusts to do their best with her.
Having Skye back, seeing what has been done to her, it makes Jemma do everything now with extreme prejudice. Hydra is going to rue the day they decided to make a weapon out of her lover.
If they haven't already.
As soon as she returns from a mission, Jemma goes to see Skye and often times it's like nothing has happened. Like Skye can't tell one day, one hour, from the next.
But this time, as soon as Skye sees her, she gets off the cot pressed against the wall, rocking back on her heels impatiently as she waits for Jemma to key in the code to let her into the room.
"They told me you were gone." Skye tells Jemma, her posture fidgety and anxious. "That you were taking down another enemy base. I…I worried about you?"
Something fills Jemma's body that she can't put her finger on, something she doesn't have a name for. Finally she steps close enough to Skye to touch her and she does so tentatively, questioningly. Skye flinches at her touch but she relaxes before Jemma can pull away.
"I'm fine." Jemma says softly. "I made it back in one piece."
Skye looks her over cautiously. "I…used to go with you? Didn't I?" She purses her lips. "Sometimes I remember things and I don't understand…I don't know why I think these things but they feel so real but they told me…they told me there was no one…that everything was fake and that they were the only people who mattered but I just remember things…" Her eyes search Jemma's, desperate for help, for an explanation.
Jemma nods, touching her face gently. Skye still flinches at the touch but she seems to welcome it too. "What else do you remember?" She asks softly.
"I remember you." Skye tells her. "I think that's what they tried to make me forget."
Jemma swallows, resisting the urge to wrap her arms around Skye and hold her close. She doesn't want to push her too far. "I can help you remember."
*~*~*~*~*~*
Skye starts having nightmares, waking herself up and more often than not Jemma and a handful of other agents with her desperate shouting, her pleas, the shaking of the walls and floor. It's been two years since Jemma felt like she's really gotten a good night's sleep and having Skye back –so close and yet so far- hasn't really helped with that. She wakes easily to the sounds of begging and beeping monitors.
Often she goes into the room, whispering platitudes to Skye while holding her hands out like one might do to a frenzied wild animal. There are still moments where Jemma isn't sure how Skye will respond to her touch and it seems better for both of them if she uses her presence and voice to soothe Skye rather than her touch. She aches for it, for the feeling of Skye's shoulder blades beneath her palms, for the feeling of Skye's arm draped heavy across her hips as she sleeps. But she's nothing if not patient.
Tonight it's different, Jemma can tell that soon enough. When she steps into the room, her voice doesn't seem to calm Skye or bring her focus back. Instead, Skye's head whips in her direction and she's crossing the room in easy strides and before Jemma can realize what's happening, her fist is wrapped around her hair, pulling her head back. Jemma feels the quaking from inside her body, like she's going to vibrate to pieces right then and there and she's going to be happy about it because at least the aching will finally stop.
"Skye." Jemma grits her teeth against the sting in her scalp. "It's me. It's just a nightmare. Focus."
It takes a few more moments of that, of quiet, desperate whispers before Jemma feels the vibrations in her body disappear and Skye's grip on her slackens before falling away all together.
Skye turns away, covering her face with her hands, her shoulders hunched forward. "I'm sorry…I didn't…I didn't realize…" Her voice trembles along with the rest of her. "It wasn't you…"
"I know." Jemma takes a deep breath, centering herself.
She hears movement behind her, looks over her shoulder to see Bobbi and Mack standing there, starting to lower the guns that they've had drawn for who knows how long. She's equal parts annoyed and grateful to have them there.
"It's okay, Skye." Jemma looks back at her and Skye is already watching her, eyes round and worried. "It's going to be okay."
*~*~*~*~*~*
"As your trusty Lieutenant, I feel like it's my duty to advise you that this is a terrible idea."
"Duly noted."
"And that you're going to die and then I'm going to put on the suit."
"It'll look smashing on you, Bobbi."
"But since I'm not a super soldier like you, we'll all just go into battle and die and Hydra will finally take over the world."
Jemma rolls her eyes at her friend. "I understand all of that, Bobbi, I do." She assures her. "But I need to give it a try."
Bobbi shrugs and the conversation is done. But Jemma is certain that there's a part of Bobbi that's secretly rooting for her.
Rather than keep Skye in continued isolation, Jemma has opted to give her a bit of freedom around the base, primarily in her company or with Fitz or one of the others, and at night…well she's never completely gotten used to an empty bed anyway.
The weight of Skye there beside her in the darkness is heavy and strange, different than how it was before. They're both stiff and uncertain, tense and careful not to cross an invisible line drawn in the mattress between them.
Jemma is certain that she's going to spend all night staring up at the ceiling, listening to the sound of Skye beside her doing the same. But they both somehow fall asleep, lulled by one another's presence or the sheer exhaustion that comes after a day of doing anything in this brave new world in which they live.
When the sound of Skye in the midst of yet another nightmare finally wakes her, Jemma rolls over immediately, reaching for Skye without thinking. She stops, her hand hovering just above her, catching herself. "Skye," she whispers, "you're just dreaming."
"Jemma?" Skye questions, her voice sounding quiet and small in the shadows. She reaches her hand up, her metal fingers brushing against Jemma's palm.
A touch, albeit a small one. A start.
"Yes." Jemma smiles even though she knows Skye can't see her. "I'm right here."