This one is shorter because the prompt was being uncooperative. Day six for Skimmons Week

Vulnerability

"I don't want things, Jemma," she just about screamed.

Her friend's face fell, eyes crinkling in that way Skye hated. It usually meant tears. Tears Jemma wouldn't let fall until she was alone. She looked away, but she could feel Jemma's eyes on her, worrying.

Her hands crumpled the jacket in her grip without her permission. And she sighed. "I don't want things, Jem. Ever. I've learned not to."

Tentative, Jemma sank to the concrete beside her, legs dangling off the roof. Skye still refused to look at her, but her friend just laid a hand on her leg, waiting. She was so damn patient and it hurt all the way through her heart to the depths of her broken soul.

"It's okay to want things, Skye," she mumbled at length.

"No," she denied, eyes flicking back to look at Jemma's face. The way the sunlight caught her hair and turned it to a brilliant red was captivating. "It's not. Because nothing ever comes of it. Because if I don't want things… If I don't hope, I can't be let down."

Jemma's fingers squeezed her knee. "That's a really lonely way to live."

Skye hunched her shoulders. "It's easier than caring."

"I'm sure there are things you care about," she whispered.

She shook her head adamantly, but Jemma's fingers on her jeans, the warmth where their shoulders touched, the way her stomach fizzled at the smile she was being given… They gave her away. They put the lie to the words. They're the reason it hurt.

"You cared about your grades enough to let me help you get better," Jemma reminded her gently. "You cared enough to make friends. You even helped me surprise Fitz for his birthday. You cared enough to help me through the homesickness at the beginning of the year." She bumped Skye gently. "You care. I know you do."

Skye stared at her. There wasn't another way of putting it. She just stared. Nothing but honesty ever shone in Jemma's eyes and today was no exception. She felt her head shake again, less vehemently this time.

"No, Jemma," she murmured. "I don't."

Hurt flashed across her face, fingers clenching in the denim of Skye's pants. "And at the end of the year," she deadpanned, "when you get an award for your work this year, when you go home to your parents with an accomplishment, when you get accepted into that college you looked up so wistfully last term… Will you care then?"

Skye's gaze flickered between each of Jemma's eyes, wondering which one of them contained more anguish, more fear. Somehow, Skye knew she'd put that there. Her fingers were winding between Jemma's before she realised she'd been thinking about doing it.

"I don't have anywhere to go," she admitted, turning away to squint into the dying sunlight again. There was too much sadness in her heart to look at Jemma when she said it. "I don't have a home to go to, no parents, nothing. I'm only here because I hacked into the system and added my details to the database." The confession was met only with silence.

"Why?"

She smiled wryly. "Because I wanted something. Because I didn't want to be at the orphanage anymore. I didn't want to have a crappy education and no prospects. I didn't want any of the things my life was offering me. I wanted more."

Jemma tried to smile at her then. "Didn't you get it?"

Skye arched one shoulder. "I got the education, I guess. I don't know about college though. I didn't apply. As for everything else…" She sighed. "There is nothing else. I boarded because I have nowhere else to be. It doesn't matter what happens next, I still have no home. Nowhere to belong."

A long weighted moment passed before anything happened. When it did, Skye's brain was too busy short-circuiting to process the fact that Jemma had leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Belong with me," she muttered.

Skye's eyes widened – comically, she imagined. "Aren't you going back to England?" she rasped, trying not to touch the spot on her cheek where Jemma's lips had been a second ago.

Jemma shook her head, smiling quietly. "I'm moving into a SHIELD Academy building." She squeezed Skye's hand. "Come with me."

Her jaw worked, unable to find words in any of the dark recesses of her mind. "How?" was all she managed to uncover. And it was dusty.

"The term isn't over yet," Jemma told her, going into 'best friend' mode. "We'll send in an application. They have a technology department at the Academy. You can room with me; Fitz won't mind you hitching a ride. I know how you feel about self-sufficiency, so we'll find you a casual job in the area. Pretty simple." She shrugged at the end as if it really was going to be exactly that easy.

The word she used was 'we'.

Skye searched her face – incredulous at the very suggestion – wondering if she'd be able to find anything written there. A joke maybe, something insincere. She had to remind herself that Jemma is not that kind of person.

"Why would you want to put up with me?" she asked instead, a little breathless at the possibilities Jemma was presenting her.

"I actually quite enjoy your company, Skye," she said drolly. "And I'd miss you horribly."

"Really?" Okay, that was two octaves too high to be dignified. Stop it.

"Really."

"But–"

"Just say 'yes' please, Skye," Jemma pleaded. "Come with me."

Skye peered at her for a moment, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. "I… Alright." A little warning signal went off in her head, reminding her that wanting things was dangerous. She silenced it.

"Good. Because I want you to come," Jemma told her happily. "I want you to get what you want."

She smiled slyly. "And if what I want is exactly the opposite of what you want?"

"Don't be silly," Jemma laughed.

Skye's smile melted into something genuine at that. "Do you know what I never thought I'd get?" Jemma must have known behind the teasing tone there was a serious question because she stopped laughing.

"What?"

"A friend."

Jemma beamed at her. "I don't know how maths has slipped your mind so quickly," she said with a perfectly straight face. "But you have two friends. Although Fitz keeps mentioning asking you out so I don't know how long that will last."

"He's not my type."

"You have a type now?" Jemma chuckled. "Little miss 'I don't want things' has a type. Well why don't you tell me…"

The rest of her ramblings were consumed by an utterly adorable squeak when Skye leaned across to kiss her. Not on the cheek. She planted it soundly on her mouth; delighted by the way it felt. Jemma hummed, kissing her in return, her free hand winding around Skye's neck for support.

"Oh," Jemma breathed when Skye backed away. "I didn't…"

"I've kinda been wanting to do that for a while," Skye whispered. "But I figured if you were leaving and I'd be living in a dumpster somewhere it might be best not to get… into… that… Sorry."

Jemma grinned. "See? You do care about things."

Skye rolled her eyes. "Don't let it go to your head."

"Hey, Skye?"

"Hum?"

"You're allowed to want that," she assured her softly. "You won't lose me."

Her brow furrowed slightly, but a hopeful (and admittedly unfamiliar) smile curled the corners of her lips. "Yeah?"

Jemma's fingers tangled into the hem of her shirt, pulling her close again. "Yeah."