She wasn't used to this yet-the scrambled, twisted, drug-induced dreams that almost always seemed to include the motorized sound of metal legs clanking in the distance and unexpected explosions opening chasms in the ground around her.

She wasn't yet used to the smell of plastic and disinfectant that met her nostrils around the same moment that she realized she was capable of waking up, or the scraping, inside-out feeling of her previously-intubated throat whose tendrils of pain usually dragged her back to the surface.

And she definitely wasn't used to waking up to someone watching her.

The first time, it had been Coulson. When she had first immerged from the swimming, suspended sleep which had seemed longer than she thought ordinary, he had been there at her elbow, ready to explain, ready to fill her in on the 72 hours that had disappeared from her life. Everything from the gunshots to the GH-325 shot.

Well, she hoped it was everything.

It was a lot to take in either way-an extra SHIELD team that had included Ward's old S.O., an off-the-map SHIELD base rigged with a suicide stopwatch, a mystery drug that had brought her back from the edge only just in time…around that point in Coulson's story, Skye had hit the button on her pain pump and fallen asleep again quickly.

Jemma had been there the next time she'd woken up, taking blood and taking down Skye's vitals. She had added her commentary to the events-reconnecting with Coulson, Ward, and May on the Italian train and the race to the villa to find Fitz and Skye, the fortuitous hypobaric chamber in the wine cellar where they had found her bleeding out-she hadn't been able to say much after that point. Or at least, Skye couldn't make much out. Between sobs, Simmons had said some more things about Zurich and surgery and Coulson's file, and Skye figured she at least had the gist of it by now.

This time though, as Skye's eyes flickered open after another explosion rocked her dreamworld and the swooping sensation in her stomach as she tumbled into an abyss startled her awake, she saw that someone had dimmed the lights in her pod, and the plane was silent. No distant roar of the turbines and no murmur of activity outside her pod. Best guess, they were refueling, meaning Ward was reporting, Fitz and Simmons were restocking, and-

"Coulson's resting," a low voice at her shoulder completed her thought for her.

If she hadn't been lying down, Skye certainly would have jumped. As it was, her legs just jerked like a startled seal's as she turned sharply to look around the edge of the bed.

"Jesus, woman, what is wrong with you?" she managed, actually pressing an IV-stuck hand to her sternum to make sure her heart was still in her chest.

May's shape seemed to materialize like a ghost's as she leaned forward into the paler darkness of the light bleeding in from the emergency lighting system in the hallway.

"What time is-"

"Late."

"Are we-"

"Just outside of Atlanta."

Skye hit the button on her pain pump and prayed to whatever force of nature was listening that the drugs would kick in fast.

"Okay."

The silence that followed might have been comfortable if it had been a month ago when things had started shifting between them. Back when they had been in Utah investigating the girl with the supernatural stalker- when Skye had heard from Coulson about all the Bahrain business and backstory that she would likely never hear from May herself-that time that they had sat together in the cockpit that night had seemed almost…

Whatever. It hadn't lasted long.

The spell had been broken just a short time later, and once again Skye had found herself pitted against the Cavalry at her every turn. May's cutting words about putting aside her personal agenda had hurt more than she probably realized, and getting thrown off the plane right after that by Hand (at May's suggestion) had been the bitter icing on an unpalatable cake. If saving Coulson together had had any potential of uniting them again, it hadn't worked. May had once again been the silent sentry at his shoulder, constantly facing off against Skye, nothing at all different.

Yet here she was at Skye's shoulder, and for once, not at Coulson's.

"You don't have to stay here, you know. I know it's not…I mean, I know you don't…you probably have other things you need to do…" Skye kicked herself for managing to sound so incoherent.

"Simmons told us to keep a close watch."

"For what? Worried I'll run away?"

"You do have a habit of disregarding orders."

Looking back, Skye would not be able to pinpoint exactly what made her say it-she would try to blame it on the lack of good sleep, the painkillers still muddling her judgment, or even the over-stimulating presence of a human chees grater. Whatever it was, it made Skye reach for the controls on her bed, crank herself up into a marginally more dignified position, turn as well as she could to face the blank-faced woman at her shoulder, and take a deep breath, and throw her cards on the table.

"Look, I get it. We are probably never going to see things eye-to-eye, and I bet I've been the rock in your shoe from day one-underfoot and unforgettably annoying. But I've had it up to here with this passive aggressive dance. If I've done something specific to piss you off, can we just have a good old-fashioned fight right now and then move on? Because I don't know if I'm going to be up for it once my drugs where off."

She had meant for it all to sound secure and definitive, but the thickness of her tongue and the dryness of her throat made her sound more hungover than drunkenly confident. For a long moment, May said nothing, just held her gaze on the half-light. It was long enough for Skye to mentally scroll through all the possible outcomes, the most likely one seeming that she was about to get her ass kicked, or at least her pride whipped.

Instead, however, May just stood up and walked out.

She wasn't gone long, but it was long enough for Skye to lower her bed again, her mind reeling with the possibilities of what had just happened. There was no way in hell that that woman was admitting defeat, but it also seemed even less likely that May was running from Skye. Before she could narrow it down to even three likely options, however, the lights in her pod were flicking on, and May was walking back in, shutting the pod's door behind her.

She tossed a bottle of water onto Skye's mattress near her hip as she pulled the stool out from the corner of the room until it was more or less at Skye's knees.

"Why don't you sit back up and drink that, and let me do the talking for a minute," she said evenly.

It was not phrased like a suggestion.

Skye hit the controls on her bed again and cracked open the water, trying not to seem nervous. The woman met her eyes as she sat down on the stool, her shoulder against Skye's bed, as dead on as she could be.

"A few weeks ago, when Coulson had just been taken and Hand was on this plane and she ordered you off-"

Skye couldn't help but roll her eyes subtly, knowing May would see it anyway.

"-Ward came into the cockpit after they had helped you get out before your transport arrived. He said the things that you probably would have like to hear him say. That I was being too hard on you, that I was not giving you the chance you deserved…and I responded with the truth. That you do more good outside the system than in it. That you are helpful in ways none of us think to be. And one more thing that I'm telling you now: you don't have to assume the worst in me."

Skye felt her eyebrows go up involuntarily.

"I know that you and I come down on opposite sides of almost everything. Not the least of which being my approach to missions, like with the girl back in Utah. But I need you to believe me that when I tell you that when it comes to us against the darkness, I will always be on your side."

May looked down at her hands, which were resting on her knees. Skye waited quietly, not sure if this could possibly be real, wondering if her drugs were making her imagine this whole exchange. There is no way the Queen of Diamonds would ever bare her soul, especially not to me…

"When we found you in that wine cellar and got you back on the plane in a hypobaric chamber like a transparent morgue drawer…when we still didn't know if you were going to live…" May's fingers flexed slightly into half-hearted fists, "things got ugly. Simmons was doing her absolute best, but she excused herself after briefing us on your status, and Fitz went after her because he knew. The two of them didn't come back for more than thirty minutes. Coulson was barely holding it together. I can count on one hand the number of times I've seen him that scared. Ward nearly broke his hand on the hood of the SUV. And I broke protocol. I broke Quinn's nose."

Skye's mouth fell open a tiny bit. "Why would you-"

"Because it's what I do." May's eyes flicked up to Skye's again, dark meeting dark. "I break rules when I care more about the person I'm protecting than the orders I received."

May held her eyes for a long moment, and it gradually dawned on Skye what she was talking about.

"I know you think I'm always in control-the Ice Queen of SHIELD-but what you see is not the natural me. It's just the me who's doing everything she can every day to never make the same mistake that made her leave the field."

Skye's eyes closed slowly, and she felt her brow furrowing with guilt. "Coulson told me-"

"I know."

Skye's eyes flicked back open, meeting May's bravely.

"Is that what happened? He said there was a civilian girl- is that who…" She couldn't make herself finish the thought.

May closed her eyes and seemed to make a decision. Her hands flexed once again into fists on her knees, but then she breathed once, slowly, and everything relaxed. Her hands spread flat, her back straightened beautifully. Zen warrior, Skye thought, trying not to flush for some reason.

May opened her eyes and started to speak.

"We were in the middle of nowhere. SHIELD was different then-we were barely getting off the ground with the Internet, and our communications were slower and more rudimentary. Our agent in Bahrain had heard rumors of a gifted individual out in the desert, and they called in a team to investigate and evaluate. When we got there, it still took two weeks of asking around with locals to find him.

"There was a local girl-she was nine years old-who followed me everywhere. She was precious-the kind of kid it seems like the universe conspired to make as irresistible as possible-so I never said no to her. She was familiar with the area, knew everything we need to know about the people in her region, so when we followed a lead out to the desert, I brought her along with us to help translate and mediate-and for my own reasons. No one ever called me on it.

"When we got to the place where the person-a man, not that it matters much-and his followers were, she led two of our operatives inside while Coulson and I were in the car running surveillance with Mathers-another agent. And then everything went south.

Skye had been so enrapt that at first she didn't realize the woman had moved until May was shrugging off her flight jacket-Skye hadn't even seen her unzip it. Underneath, May was wearing a thin black V-neck, which she pulled one arm inside and began to maneuver a little clumsily off with one hand. Once the fabric cleared her head-Skye could see why-a white square of gauze was tucked under the strap of her sports bra at the place where arm became shoulder, the skin around it still a warning shade of red.

"Is that-" Skye's eyes flickered up to meet May's, and the woman nodded

"From the day on the train. But this is much older." May's eyes dropped downwards, taking Skye's with hers.

Her stomach turned.

"The gifted individual had the ability to control fire. He demonstrated that for our agents inside by making our car outside explode."

Skye couldn't move her eyes from May's skin. Wrapping all around the right side of her torso was an expanse of scarring, still the same color as the skin around it but shiny and thick, a topographic map that stretched from beneath her sports bra to disappear under the waistband of her black jeans. May kept talking as Skye studied it.

"Coulson has a few smaller ones to match. He and I both made it out of the car with only cuts and burns, but we lost all our communications and weapons, and Mathers was in bad shape. In the middle of the desert, there was no one to call for help. And then the man put a ring of fire around the whole area to make sure we weren't going anywhere."

May was turning the stool slightly with her toe, as though she knew Skye needed to see the other side. As she pivoted, Skye took in the splash of scarring that reached around her ribs, the blast pattern of scars scattered across her back... May even pushed her hair up off her neck, and Skye saw a patch underneath that had never grown back.

"Coulson wasn't going to let me go in, but I couldn't leave my team or that girl in there, and we knew no one was getting away alive if someone didn't do what needed to be done. I left Coulson with Mathers and went in alone. There was only one way in or out of the building, no time to make my own entrance when we had no idea what was happening inside. So when I went in, the followers caught me-and then they made me watch as the man set my partners and the little girl who had helped us on fire."

Skye's eyes closed slowly, her mouth pulling tight. "Jesus," she muttered. All the pieces came together into a world-shattering picture.

When she opened her eyes again, May had already worked her t-shirt back on.

"And that's why…the people inside…why you wouldn't tell Coulson…why you don't like being called the Cavalry…isn't it?" Skye finally said, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes.

"Not because it reminds me of what happened-I am reminded of that every time I look in the mirror. It's because people think that what did was brave, or even enviable-and I know the truth. That what I did was stupid. Reckless. And it cost a lot of people. It nearly cost me everything."

Skye was quiet for a long time, mentally replaying every conversation she had ever had with Agent Melinda May, the so-called Cavalry. Every time she had scorned the woman's apparent inability to connect emotionally, every time her heart had churned in frustration every time they had butted heads.

Her own words from Utah came back to her-words not about May but spoken in front of her- Somebody with that much empathy being responsible for that much loss of life? She's devastated...

People believe what they need to believe to justify their actions.

Is that how you justify your "shoot first" policy?

"Why are you telling me this?" Skye asked, finally dropping her hands, hoping she had pressed any ambitious tears back into storage for later use. She noticed that May had moved just a little bit closer, sitting more or less at Skye's elbow. Her eyes were soft as she answered.

"Because I know how it feels to be right where you are. To be recovering from an injury alone with yourself, to have nothing to think about but what has just happened to you-or what you have done. To be haunted in your sleep by the memories by the memories you manage to lock up in the day. And because right now, you're afraid you're going to turn out like me. Not the same person because of this. Let me save you the suspense-you won't be."

May moved her hand slowly to rest lightly on Skye's stomach; she looked up at the woman, more than a little bit startled by the contact. There was a layer of shirt and three layers of gauze between May's skin and Skye's upcoming scars, but Skye suddenly felt warmer.

"Your life has already been turned upside-down more than once in the short time I've known you. I know you had to walk away from everything that was familiar to you and embrace daily danger and darkness. I know that Coulson told you about your past and what a shock that must have been for you. And on top of everything, there's this." She passed one fingertip gently over the bandage.

"Any one of these things would have been enough to wreck a person ten times over. Instead, I have watched you take all things in stride- adapt, accept, and adjust- and move on. And most importantly, on the other side of all of this, you are still the same girl-throwing herself into all things without fear, able to discern the things that everyone else misses, namely, the best in others. So no, Skye, you haven't done something to make me mad-you're are simply the daily picture of all the things I no longer can be."

May pulled her hand back, though she left it resting on the blankets near Skye's leg.

"Just remember what I said: you don't have to assume the worst in me. I am rooting for you every step of the way. And more importantly: when it comes to us against the darkness, I'll always be fighting for the light- the side I know I'll find you on too."

No response would ever do that statement justice, so Skye said nothing, but held May's gaze and nodded, just once, moving her IV-free hand ever-so-slightly to brush against May's fingers near hers. Not presuming to hold or squeeze, just the simple contact of affirmation.

I get you.

May's hand turned a little and her fingertips pressed back gently.

Good.

The moment was broken by the sound of footsteps on the metal stairs outside the pod, and both women turned to look behind May at the same time. Jemma's face appeared in the window, breaking immediately into a smile as she saw that Skye was awake.

"How are you feeling?" she said warmly as she slid open the door, joining the two women in the tiny cubicle. May stood silently, slipping her jacket back on and moving out of the way and through the door as Jemma began checking the monitors.

"I'm good," Skye, said quietly as May rounded the corner and met Skye's eyes as she passed back towards the staircase. Skye thought she saw the barest hint of a smile as their eyes met.

"Really good," she repeated, returning it.