Chapter Text
Bobbi’s bones ached, deep and lingering. It was an effort not to collapse back on the bed and go back to sleep. The wall held no character. Except for a mirror, it was completely barren. A flash of her blonde hair caught her eye as she turned towards the door. Lance was probably pacing outside the door, wondering if he should come in and confront her for pushing him away…Again. She had been burned before, literally. The fact of the matter was she had enemies and she knew, rationally that he was a big boy and could handle himself. They’d come for him sooner later to get to her; however, all that kept them together, if she was being completely honest, was the…sex. The world was never going to become a better place: she had seen enough fucked up shit to put her off the goodness of humanity for a long while.
The world didn’t allow for innocence, not anymore. Bobbi leaned her head against the wall, turning her attention to the ceiling. Yellow eyes flashed in her memory; followed by the phantom pain of a knife across her abdomen. Her hands drifted down to the scar. That was the last time she would ever allow herself to lose control over her emotions.
Her phone chimed. Bobbi picked it up and glanced at it. She climbed out of bed slid her Nikes on, pulling on a Shield hoodie as she did so.
“Bobbi,” Lance jumped as she exited her room, starting to follow her.
“Not now. I have to speak with Coulson,” she replied curtly, brushing by him.
Sam flipped through the journal. It had been ages since he and his brother had even bothered to look at it. This hunting trip should be good for them, just plain old vampires. No angels or demons. Nothing scripture worthy. To be honest he was getting tired with the Bible and all its fuckery. Newspaper clippings littered his lap and the purr of the Impala was a welcome sound. The bunker was nice; it was good for both of them to have a steady home, but it wasn't as homey as the Impala.
"Sammy, where's this nest?" Dean inquired, stuffing another fry into his mouth. Sam glanced up.
"Cape Girardeau. Remember that racist truck he replied, taking a bite of his burger. Sam caught his brother's grin and sighed.
"Really, Dean? What do you think the likelihood of Cassie still living there is?"
Dean shrugged. Sam huffed and rolled his eyes.
"Dude, this is to get you back to normal," Sam muttered.
"I am normal, Sam. What is this trip going to be? A chick flick?"
"Well, I was going to suggest driving a couple hours south to Sikeston to go to that Lambert's place."
"Where they throw the rolls?"
"Yep.”
Sam turned back to his research, trying to push his worry about the mark to the back of his mind. Maybe this was all they needed to get back to normal: a long drive to take out a vampire nest and soft rock and roll playing background to the Impala’s purr.
"Cape Girardeau, sir?" Bobbi asked, flipping through the pages in the mission assignment.
"Yes. You've been off your game lately, Bobbi, and I want you back to normal," Coulson replied, typing away at his keyboard. Pictures of a run down building appeared on the screen behind him.
"This is were we believe the Inhumans are residing at the moment. All you are doing is recon. If you think they are a threat to the civilian population, I'm authorizing you to use whatever force you feel appropriate. Dismissed."
Bobbi turned and left his office, heading back to her room. He was right. She hadn't been herself lately and she didn't know what it was. Maybe it was all the betrayals, all the fights, the torture,but, she didn't know. Coulson could be right and all she needed was a relaxing recon mission.