Disclaimer: Not mine. Title is an homage to the movie of the same name because that movie is awesome and everyone should see it right now.

A/N: So this story is based on a prompt/idea given to me by Melissa7187. Sometimes it's canon, sometimes it's not. I like to be crazy and unpredictable. I hope you all enjoy!

Coulson is in the middle of interviewing the group of teenagers that stumbled upon the mysterious object half buried in the ground while hiking through the Blue Ridge Mountains when the explosion cuts him off midsentence and before he can even turn around, he sees Ward go running past him in the direction of the sound. Clearly he has an answer to his musings over the potential danger of the object.

The previously silver shell of the 0-8-4 is singed and smoking now and the ground is cracked in a perfect circle that stretches out with the object in the center. All the grass and leaves around the 0-8-4 are nothing but ash now, wisps of smoking twisting upward. But that's definitely not what catches Coulson's attention. That's the farthest thing from important at the moment. To be honest, Coulson isn't sure where to turn his focus first. Skye is laying prone, pale and unconscious on the ground to the right of the object. Simmons is mimicking her posture off to the left.

"What happened?" Coulson nearly shouts at a bewildered looking Fitz, who is kneeling beside Simmons but seemingly reluctant to touch her.

Ward doesn't have the same restraints and is currently putting his field agent's basic medical training to use: taking Skye's pulse, checking the dilation of her pupils, checking her over for injuries. When Ward lifts one of her hands by the wrist, Coulson can see that her palm is charred and still smoking.

Fitz looks over at Coulson, flustered. "I…I don't know." He looks back at Simmons. "She was taking readings of the object and Skye was with her and then…it just exploded."

Coulson has the feeling that Skye's seared hands can fill in the missing pieces of Fitz's account. But he's too concerned with her health, and Simmons', to be appropriately annoyed by her curious nature.

They move Skye and Simmons to the infirmary but with the team doctor currently in need of a doctor, there's little any of them can do beyond the basics. Fitz ascertains that their vitals are stable and, as far as he can tell, they've suffered no serious injuries. "The force of the blast must have simply knocked them both unconscious." Fitz explains but Coulson can see the worry on his face, which won't disappear until Simmons and Skye are both good as new.

Fitz cleans and bandages Skye's palms and after that, there's really nothing more they can do but wait. Tensions are high on The Bus for the next few hours, until Skye and Simmons wake, almost in unison and seemingly no worse for wear. No one is glowing or seems to have suddenly developed any sort of super powers and both of their memories appear to be intact, so Coulson figures they'll all just have to be satisfied with putting this in the "close call" pile and move on.

The following morning is business as usual and Jemma is grateful to be able to resume her usual role as the one doing the doctoring instead of the one in need of a consult. She is currently studying Skye's palms, cradling Skye's hands gently in her own, hoping that Fitz's previous diagnosis about the burns not being serious enough to warrant actual medical attention will withstand her expert eye.

"Look, about yesterday…" Skye says, breaking the silence that has settled between them since Jemma began her examination, "I'm sorry I touched the thing. That was a bad call."

Jemma smirks and lifts her head just enough to let Skye see the amused expression on her face. "Yes, well. Touching foreign objects in the field is usually not recommended."

Skye nods. "Yeah. I'll remember that next time." She remarks with a little laugh. "But, you're…you're okay, right? Like I didn't accidently fry your brain or anything, right?"

Jemma gives her a reassuring smile and nods. "Yes, I'm fine." And really, she has been. Weirdly fine, she thinks, for being caught in some sort of explosion or electrical spark. But Jemma isn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. "And you? Aside from your hands, of course. Which should heal in a few days, by the way. The burn isn't all that serious."

"Oh yeah, I'm great." Skye assures her. "It takes a lot more than a little shock to keep me down." She pauses, pursing her lips. "Though I don't want to test that theory any time soon."

"Perhaps that's for the best." Jemma remarks and Skye gives her a little smile.

The silence settles between them once more and Jemma feels like she should say something, anything else but there doesn't seem to be any further point in rehashing the events of the previous day or the injuries that they thankfully didn't sustain. She just looks at Skye, who purses her lips and looks like she, too, is waiting for Jemma to say something.

Jemma realizes that she's still holding onto Skye's hands and pulls her own away quickly, laughing nervously. "Sorry about that." She mumbles, slipping her hands into the pockets of her lab coat. "Is that all, Skye? Nothing else you want me to take a look at?"

Instantly, Jemma feels her cheeks heat up and she can only pray that the heat isn't manifesting itself in the form of a bright red badge of embarrassment. Lovely. Jemma is certain that her brain can process things faster than the average person's and she still manages to speak before she thinks.

If Jemma isn't mistaken, Skye's cheeks flush too and she quickly shakes her head. "No. I think we're all good here. Right as rain and…all that." Skye turns and leaves the lab without another word and while Jemma is relieved that the moment has passed, she's sad to see Skye go.

It's easy for Jemma to forget about her propensity to embarrass herself once she gets started working with Fitz on analyzing and studying the device that they found the day before. Honestly, it's easy for Jemma to forget about everything once she gets started running tests and attempting to get a peak at the inner workings of the strange creation. Everything else seems to fall away but her work and Jemma feels far more at ease in the lab than she does in any other area of her life.

Which might be why it's always so hard to convince herself to leave, even when it's for the most basic of necessities like food or sleep. But Jemma finally allows herself to be coaxed out of the lab by Fitz, even if it's just to get him to shut up about how the rumbling of her stomach is distracting him from properly running diagnostics.

Skye and Ward are already in the kitchen, mired in the silence that comes when two people are too hungry to make polite conversation. Ward is methodically constructing a sandwich that looks like it would be impossible to eat without unhinging your jaw and Skye is just doing a lot of glaring at the counter like it's personally offended her. Or maybe she's wishing that The Bus came equipped with a kitchen that cooked all the food itself and Jemma finds herself wondering if such a thing could even be created. She should put Fitz on that right away.

But then Skye says, "Why is it this hard to remember where I put the mustard?" and Jemma smiles at her and pulls open the refrigerator.

"Here you are, Skye." Jemma holds up the bottle and honestly she wonders if Skye has actually even tried looking because the fridge is a perfectly logical place to store a condiment if you ask her.

Skye just looks at her and so do Fitz and Ward. And that's when Jemma realizes that Skye didn't actually say anything out loud.

"Stop that." Jemma snaps. Out loud, just for the record.

Skye gives her an innocent who me? grin as she flops down into one of the chairs in the lab. "What?"

"You know what." Jemma informs her primly. She's had some ghastly Bruno Mars song running through her head for the past five minutes and it's making it very hard to focus on anything else. "I need to think."

Skye wheels herself over to where Jemma is standing. "You want to do tests, right? Experiments? Collect data?" She doesn't bother to wait for Jemma to answer. "Well I think we've got our data."

"It's not conclusive." Jemma protests weakly. "I need to…I just need to think."

I think this is pretty conclusive.

"There are other things to consider. Variables and…"

Other sciencey things?

"This is serious, Skye!" Jemma glares at her. "We have no idea what's going on."

I think I know what's going on. You can read my mind.

"But…how?" Jemma frets. "Why? And…" She trails off, uncertain. Can you read mine?

"Yes." Skye grins at her like they've just performed some sort of party trick.

Jemma looks at her, surprised. Skye's voice suddenly sounds softer and farther away, even though her proximity hasn't changed. And that's when Jemma realizes that this whole time she's been hearing Skye's voice in her head and she hadn't even realized it. Pretty conclusive indeed.

Skye just smiles at her.

Skye goes into her pod while Jemma stays in the lab.

Can you hear me now? Skye teases, her voice filling Jemma's mind like the woodsy smell of the incense that her flighty Aunt Esther always burned in her living room.

Jemma can hear her. Loud and clear. She can hear her when she's in the storage closet in the cargo hold and in the cockpit with May and in Coulson's office.

"Fascinating." Jemma says softly to the empty room and it suddenly feels alien to say the words out loud when she's just been effortlessly carrying on a conversation with Skye.

"It must have been the 0-8-4." Jemma says when Skye joins her in the lab. "When we touched it…"

Skye nods because that, unlike most things that Jemma says, makes perfect sense to her. "Is it going to wear off or…?"

Jemma's silence is answer enough for the both of them.

"We shouldn't tell anyone." Jemma says suddenly. "Until we know more." She adds this last part so that she feels less guilty about the images that have flooded her mind. Thoughts of SHIELD testing and studying and poking and prodding. Thoughts of being the bug under the microscope.

Jemma pushes those thoughts away but she has the feeling that Skye sees them anyway because she nods, a little bit of the amusement gone from her eyes.

So they don't tell anyone, not even Coulson and it's strange to keep a secret. Jemma has never done it before, not really.

Which might be good, in a way. Because Jemma suddenly has the feeling that it's going to be really hard to keep secrets.

What am I thinking now?

An image of a rabbit pulling a magician out of a hat flashes through Jemma's mind and she lets out an exasperated sigh. Both inwardly and out loud.

Skye's laugh, rich and bright, rings through Jemma's mind and she feels some of the tension in her shoulders melt away.

In place of the rabbit comes an image of a bear riding a tricycle and then a cat dressed like a ninja.

Skye please. I'm trying to concentrate.

Skye thinks of a lizard wearing sunglasses and Jemma thinks about a nice, quiet plane where no one bothers her while she tries to work.

Spoilsport Skye pouts.

Jemma rolls her eyes but thinks about a pig in a tutu. Skye's laugh makes Jemma smile in spite of herself.

Having Skye rattling around in her brain all the time is a little bit exhausting. It's like constantly having the radio on and just having to work around it. It's not so bad when they're together because they're seeing and experiencing the same things. But when they're in different parts of The Bus, it's harder for Jemma to focus. She hasn't figured out how to tune Skye out so instead she's trying to figure out how to go about her normal duties in the lab while managing the snippets of thought and waves of emotion coming off Skye.

It's much harder than it sounds.

And Jemma knows that Skye is equally aggravated at times because she can feel the waves of frustration coursing through Skye as she tries not to let her mind get tangled in the sciencey mumbo-jumbo so she can focus on sifting through lines of code or tweaking a program.

"We need to figure this out." Jemma tells Skye frankly a few days after they've been trying to deal with this brave new world.

Skye has a headache. Jemma can feel it pulsing in the middle of her own forehead, spreading between the two of them just like the tension in Skye's body. Coulson has had her dealing with a particularly tricky encryption all day and she's exhausted. Jemma can feel it coming off her in waves. To be fair, Jemma is sure that the whole team can feel her exhaustion or they can at least see it in her eyes and the curve of her shoulders.

But Jemma can feel all the other stuff too. Skye's desperate need to get this done and prove herself. The desire for Coulson's praise and validation. The fear that she's just going to fuck up.

Jemma thinks about how she used to feel that way during exams and how her mother would stroke her hair and run her hand down her back and seem to draw the tension out. Before she can stop herself, Jemma thinks about doing that to Skye, touching her with her hand instead of her mind and pressing a kiss to her forehead to try and silence the desperate thoughts there.

Jemma throws the thought away quickly and feels her cheeks grow red. Skye looks confused but she feels different somehow, more relaxed and no longer vibrating with tension.

"We need to figure this out." Jemma says again, more embarrassed now than anything else. Figuring out how to protect her thoughts suddenly seems like a necessity.

Skye nods but Jemma can almost feel her mind reaching toward her own, like it's trying to pull Jemma in closer and keep her.

In the end, it's simple really. They just have to make the conscious effort to push the other one out.

Jemma realizes that she never thought about doing that before.

It's easier now. Jemma doesn't have to focus so hard on blocking Skye and she can concentrate on the tasks at hand without worrying about opening herself up to Skye's chatter. And sometimes Jemma can feel that wall between them, erected by Skye instead of herself, smooth and dark and just the way things used to be before the 0-8-4 threw a wrench into things.

And they've never talked about the images that flashed through Jemma's mind days before, the thoughts of being close to Skye and feeling the heat of her body under her hand and lips. But Jemma can feel a different sort of energy humming off Skye now, a tug, a magnetic pull that seems to threaten to draw Jemma in closer.

She wonders if that's a side effect of the whole mind reading thing.

It's hard carrying on a conversation with someone else's voice in her head. Jemma finds herself grinning at Skye's comments while bandaging Ward's black and blue ribs after their mission in Spain.

Ward looks at her quizzically. "What's funny?" He seems almost amused, almost like his old self before the effects of the Berserker staff.

Jemma blushes and purses her lips. She can't exactly explain that she's having a conversation with Skye right now.

So she just shakes her head. "Nothing. I just remembered something."

Ward looks like he doesn't quite believe her but he also looks like he already knows the answer to his question anyway.

Most of the time, Jemma dreams of falling. The nightmares are always quick and dirty and they come like blows to the chest when she least expects them.

Jemma doesn't spend much of her waking moments thinking about jumping off The Bus. There's too many other things that need her attention. But it seems to be her subconscious' favorite subject.

In her dreams, she can feel the air moving past her; she can hear the roar of it in her ears, barely audible over the pounding of her heart. In her dreams, she hopes that she dies quickly, that it doesn't hurt, that Fitz forgives her for hitting him and that her mother doesn't spend too much of her time crying. Just like she did when she was actually falling. Only in her dreams, Jemma sees nothing but empty air around her. There's no Ward there to save her.

Jemma wakes herself up, a strangled cry frozen in her throat and her body shivering and sweaty. She knows she's in her pod but she can't shake the feelings, the memories. They have a hold of her and won't let go.

Hey. It's okay. Skye's voice slips through her mind, wrapping around Jemma's like a blanket, as soft and gentle as Jemma imagines her touch would be. Jemma can barely swallow back her sob of relief. You're okay. It's all okay now.

Jemma thinks about Skye's voice instead of falling but her body is still shaking and her heart is trembling in her chest.

It was just a dream.

No Jemma thinks but she's not sure if the word is directed at Skye or just a statement of fact. It wasn't.

Jemma looks over in surprise when she hears her pod door slide open and when Skye steps into the room, Jemma feels relief surge through her. Because she didn't even have to think it and Skye knew.

Skye climbs into bed beside her and they seem to reach for each other simultaneously, twining together without a conscious thought. Jemma realizes that Skye is shivering too, though whether from Jemma's memories or her own, she doesn't know. It doesn't really matter. Jemma pulls her even closer and Skye feels as warm and comfortable against her body as she does in her mind.

"It's okay." Skye says again, her voice soft in the quiet of the pod.

Jemma just nods and closes her eyes again.

Remembering not to reply to each other's thoughts out loud is the hardest thing to get used to. Jemma finds it amusing when Skye blurts out a random sentence in the middle of the kitchen or in the lounge but Skye isn't as entertained because she's the one on the receiving end of the confused looks.

It's easier when they're alone. Tossing words and pictures between their minds has at some point become preferable to actually talking out loud. When Fitz walks into the lab and finds the two of them in what undoubtedly looks like the most intense staring contest in the history of man, he just gives them a confused look. Jemma can't stop herself from laughing and Skye joins in and even though she's laughing out loud, Jemma still feels the sound vibrating through her.

They're all alone in the lounge one night when the words kiss her briefly streak across Skye's mind and Jemma turns her head toward Skye's in time to meet her lips.

The way that Skye seems to fill her mind now has nothing to do with the mind reading.

I have a bad feeling about this. Skye, like all of them, is too afraid to say the words out loud. But they're all thinking them. Jemma knows this without needing to be able to read the minds of her teammates.

Instead of agreeing with her, Jemma just flashes her a tight smile. She'd reach for her hand but May and Ward are loading up the car right behind them and Coulson is talking with Mike Peterson only a few feet away. So, instead, Jemma just settles on the smile.

It'll be all right, you'll see.

Skye doesn't look like she believes her, but at least she keeps her doubt out of her mind.

On the way back to The Bus from the bridge, Skye doesn't say a word. Not even to Jemma. That wall is there between them, more impenetrable than ever.

From the backseat, Jemma can see Skye shaking. Her face is fixed in a blank and stony expression, impassive and unflappable. But Jemma only has to look in her eyes and see that her heart is breaking.

Coulson is gone. Jemma is afraid of what that means for all of them but mostly for what it means for Skye.

Back on The Bus, Skye shuts herself into her pod before anyone can suggest that she does otherwise.

Jemma stands outside the door and presses her palm against the surface. Skye, she says softly because she doesn't trust herself to speak out loud. Skye, it'll be okay.

The wall is down but Jemma still gets no response.

Please.

The door slides open and Skye pulls her into her arms. Jemma lets out a gasp of relief and clings to her. Jemma kisses her, tentative and questioning. They haven't kissed often since that night in the lounge but Jemma feels like it's been outside factors rather than lack of interest stopping them. When Skye kisses her, it takes the breath from Jemma and she can feel the need pulsing through Skye with every beat of her heart.

And suddenly Skye is gone, moving away from Jemma and turning away so she can't see her face. "I'm sorry." She says quietly and her voice sounds dry and brittle. "I just…I can't do this."

"Skye." Jemma reaches for her but Skye jerks away lightning fast. "Skye."

Jemma can tell that Skye is trying to block her out but it's no use. Jemma is still privy to the sudden onslaught of memories flooding through Skye's mind: the small and lonely beds at St. Agnes, the faces of the foster families as they turn her away, front door after front door being shut in her face as a finite goodbye. And Jemma sees herself and Coulson and the rest of the team. She sees herself pale and sweaty and dying from the Chitauri virus and she sees Coulson disappearing into the hands of Centipede.

The images stop suddenly and Jemma can feel Skye's shame in their place. "Skye," Jemma says softly as she reaches for her again only to be pushed away once more, "it's okay."

Jemma steps closer and wraps her arms around Skye, pressing her face against the crook of her neck. Skye tenses but doesn't pull away.

"I'm not going anywhere." Jemma says softly against her skin. "I promise."

Hesitantly, Jemma brushes against Skye's mind, nudging against the black wall. I promise. I won't leave you. I won't.

Skye seems to go limp in her arms and she turns around and holds onto Jemma as she finally lets herself start to cry. Jemma pulls her closer, kissing the top of her head.

Shh, Jemma thinks as she brushes Skye's hair away from her face. I'm here.

Skye kisses her softly. I know.

When Agent Hand kicks Skye off The Bus, it's all Jemma can do to keep from shouting at the woman. Now is really not a good time to be court-martialed. But now is also not a good time to be splitting up the team if you ask Jemma.

Of course no one does.

I'll be here, Skye thinks while she's on the other side of the room being scolded by Hand and she surreptitiously taps the side of her head.

Here. Jemma presses her palm against her chest and even though Skye rolls her eyes, Jemma can feel her smiling.

"Oh. I wasn't rolling my eyes at you, Agent Hand."

It's still hard to watch Skye leave. It's the furthest they've been since this whole mind-reading debacle first began and Jemma is a little nervous that whatever voodoo is connecting them won't stretch that far.

But even without Skye there, Jemma can feel her; she can feel the thread connecting their thoughts and feelings together.

I just don't understand, Skye says and not for the first time, why would May do that?

While Jemma thinks that's a perfectly reasonable question, she still focuses her attention on finding Coulson and soothing Skye rather than trying to understand Agent May. May has her reasons for everything.

This sucks, Skye complains. She's hates me.

But more than anything, Jemma can sense her hurt and surprise. Skye is smarting from the sting of betrayal and feeling like an idiot for thinking that she fit in with the rest of the team.

There's also the fierce determination to prove that she does fit in after all.

Skye, please before careful, Jemma frets, worrying her bottom lip. Don't do anything foolish.

I won't, Skye assures her with a mental eye roll.

Pretty soon Jemma finds herself wondering if they have different definitions of the word "foolish."

Even still, a huge smile splits her face when she hears Skye say gotcha.

"Skye found something." Jemma says without pausing to let her mind catch up with her mouth.

Ward, May and Fitz all look up at her blankly. Jemma clears her throat and pretends to be very fixated on the files open on the table.

Perhaps you should use the phone we gave you.

It's not so funny when you're the one looking like an idiot, is it?

Just call and tell us what you found.

The phone rings and Jemma just rolls her eyes.

The best thing about this whole mind reading fiasco is that there's no need to rehash the memories that might be too painful to give voice to. Skye shows Jemma the images of Coulson hooked up to that machine, begging for death. Jemma strokes her hair as they lay together in silence, sharing the burden of wondering what will happen next.

The first time they sleep together is like nothing Jemma has ever experienced before. Everything seems to be happening in stereo and Jemma's body is awash with her own sensations as well as Skye's. There's no space between them, no wall. She can hear Skye's moans and whimpers against her skin and in her head and it all threatens to overwhelm her in the best way possible. Skye seems to know exactly what she wants before she knows that she wants it. Her teeth are nipping the skin of her neck and her tongue soothes the sting while Skye's hands are everywhere that Jemma wants them to be. She'd beg but she doesn't need to. Skye already knows exactly what she wants.

"We should do that like all the time."

Yes, Jemma thinks only because she's too tired to actually speak.

"So we're going undercover?"

"I hate undercover."

It goes from zero to shitty in about sixty seconds and Jemma is pretty sure that the only thing keeping her from completely losing it is being able to feel Skye there in her mind. Having Skye in her head is like a security blanket, something she can lean on when her heart starts rabbiting in her chest after Coulson says, "Coms are down."

Out loud, Jemma says the names of the two most important people in her world. Together, of course. If something were to happen, she would lose everything. Why is she thinking like that?

Inside she says, Skye, the coms have gone down. What's going on?

A pause and then, No idea, Jem. Give me a minute, I'm sure I can get them working again.

And then Coulson leaves her. And then Ward tells her with business-like efficiency: "We've been made."

That line always gives her a jolt of excitement when she hears it used in movies because that's how you know the action is about to start. Now it just fills her with fear.

Skye, we've been made. Jemma whips off her glasses and goes toward the luggage car. I'm coming to you.

There's no answer and Jemma quickens her pace. Please be okay.

There's no answer to that either.

Everything else happens in a blur. She sees Skye only long enough to ascertain that she's alive and Skye is yelling her name and the sound echoes through Jemma's mind. And then she has the gun and she's firing but it's Coulson there instead of Fitz and Skye and Jemma feels her heart clench.

"Where are Fitz and Skye?" Jemma's voice trembles as she looks at Coulson, desperate for understanding.

But her voice is strong and steady as she says, Skye, where are you?!

She's met with nothing but the wall. That stupid, impenetrable wall that lets her know that Skye is purposefully keeping her out. Which means that Skye is probably purposefully doing something stupid.

Skye! Damnit! Don't do this now! Where are you? What's going on? Skye!

Nothing.

Someone sets off the tracker and Jemma is practically dragging the rest of the team, desperate for them to match her impatient pace. Jemma continues to press against the wall in Skye's mind, desperate to tear it down. Her body is trembling with her need to hear Skye's voice and her fear that the worst has happened. Jemma pushes but Skye keeps her out. At least Coulson is matching Jemma's frantic pace.

Suddenly white hot pain flares through Jemma's body, stealing her breath away and dropping her to her knees. Jemma presses a hand to her chest and tears sting her eyes. The wall keeping her from Skye is gone and in its place is fear and crippling pain. God it hurts and Jemma doesn't know which one of them thinks that.

The pain burns through her again and Jemma groans and presses her forehead against the ground.

"Simmons!" Coulson's voice is loud and insistent. "Talk to me! What's happening?"

"Skye." Jemma moans.

Coulson pulls her to her feet and Jemma feels weak at first but then seems to come back to herself, fueled by the desperate need to get to Skye.

Jemma reaches out to Skye, trying to soothe and quiet the fear that has taken over everything else. We're coming, Skye. Please hold on. Where are you, darling? Please just tell me where you are.

Skye shows her: the villa, the basement, Quinn.

They don't hesitate when they reach the villa. Jemma pushes past Ward and May and Coulson as they grab Quinn and she heads right for the basement. She knows what she will find there and that makes her run.

Skye offers Jemma a weak smile when Jemma kneels down beside her. Her lips are red and her skin is white and Jemma crushes the words too late before they can reach Skye.

Jemma takes Skye into her arms and presses a hand to her abdomen, curling the other hand around her neck.

"Skye, darling." Jemma swallows to steady her voice. "It'll be all right. We'll get you all fixed up."

But her brain betrays her and her thoughts aren't steady at all. I'm sorry, she repeats over and over. I'm so sorry. Please don't leave.

Skye forces that smile again. "I love you." She says simply. "I just wanted to say that out loud."

Coulson and the rest of the team come barreling in and Coulson lets out a sound of disbelief and Jemma can't help but hold Skye closer lest he try to take her away.

I love you, Skye is saying again and Jemma feels her eyes well with tears because this is not fair. It's not! They've never said those words before though Jemma has felt them but she had been waiting on the right time, the perfect moment. This is not the right time. This is Skye saying I love you when she means goodbye.

Jemma-

No. I won't let you go.

"It's a hyperbaric chamber and I said put her in it!"

Skye doesn't make a sound as they lift and move her. Jemma reaches out but there's nothing. It's different from the wall. It's like getting static where you know that words and images should be.

Jemma exhales when she sees Skye's breath fog up the chamber. But her mind is still empty.

Jemma fills her head with mindless thoughts and words and phrases because it's too empty without Skye.

It's not the same, though.

It's only at this moment that Jemma realizes that her connection with Skye, whatever the cause, is about more than just having Skye's voice in her mind. It's about feeling like Skye is a part of her, twisted into her thoughts and her muscles and her DNA and her nerve-endings and her blood.

Though, honestly, Jemma is starting to think that would have been inevitable even without the 0-8-4.

"But you can't imagine your life without her."

"Yes."

And Jemma looks at Skye and thinks please come back to me.

Jemma is sitting beside Skye's bed reading over Dr. Foster's latest research on Einstein-Rosen Bridges when she sees movement out of the corner of her eye and jerks her head in Skye's direction so fast that she feels like she's going to give herself whiplash.

Skye is blinking under the fluorescents, her face etched with confusion and discomfort. She turns her head toward Jemma and the darkness fades a little from her eyes.

"Hello." Jemma says softly, brushing Skye's hair away from her forehead and resting her hand against her skin. "Welcome back."

Skye smiles. "Hi." Her voice is cracked and raw. "'s quiet."

It takes Jemma only a second to realize that Skye is talking about the space between them, the invisible line that had tethered them for months, suddenly gone or at least dormant.

But right now, Jemma doesn't care about that. All she cares about is the sound of Skye's voice filling the hospital room.

"Yes." Jemma says, continuing to stroke Skye's hair. "It is odd." She says this absently because it's still hard for her to move past the thought that Skye is alive and awake and talking to her right now. Nothing else matters.

"It's okay." Skye whispers. "I like hearing you like this too."

The best Jemma can come up with is that Skye's death, however temporary, severed the link between them and has left them no more connected to each other than they are to the rest of the team. Of course, that's not entirely true. They're just connected in a different way now. One that Jemma can understand far better than mind-reading.

Sometimes Jemma feels that connection again and she'll be briefly privy to Skye's thoughts and Skye will be open to hers. But it's not as clear as it once was. It's like trying to use an old TV antenna to pull a picture through the static. It comes and it goes and that's that.

But when Skye appears in the doorway of the lab and winks at Jemma before tilting her head in the direction of their pods, Jemma doesn't have to be able to read her mind to know exactly what she's thinking.

end.