Hey all! I'm not new to the fanfiction world, but I am to A.O.S. This idea came to me just an hour ago while watching listening to "Repeat" by Zendaya. I'm not sure how that song generated that idea, but it did. I turned to "Mirrors" by Justin Timberlake to keep me going. Just let me know what ya'll think. If this happens to sound like anyone else's work, I apologize ahead of time and to let me know immediately.
Disclaimer: Yep, not mine. Dammit. *pouts*
"You Gotta Be Strong"
"Oh no. Oh God. Simmons, get down here!"
The words echoed in his mind like they were on replay. Every single time, his heart seemed to crush even harder – if that was even possible. The image of Skye leaning unconsciously against the wall had burn in his mind like a nasty scar was to skin.
"Oh God. Hang on."
He had whispered those words with thick emotion, pleading with her to hang on, to come back to him and their team, but mostly him. He wasn't sure how he'd continue living if she were to die. Having lost the last chance of love from before the Battle of New York, he'd never anticipated love would ever catch him again, let alone by chance and forever link him to her.
For once, since he'd built his little team and had finally gotten them in sync, he'd let his heart overrule his mind. He'd let himself get attach to each one of them, but the chain to Skye had tightened even more.
God Dammit! He'd thought on more than one occasion, but no matter what he could do it did nothing to loosen the hold she had on him.
Which was why when he'd found her in that damp, dim basement, he couldn't help but to cry.
"Just hang on, okay?"
He'd pleaded with her as he held her and prayed that Simmons could get her ass to them ASAP. His heart pounded like it was on a race as they lifted her up to put her in the hyperbaric chamber and FitzSimmons did what they could to stabilize her.
Useless is what feeling attacked his system; it was simple. There was nothing he could do to pull her back. He had no powers that he knew of. It seemed like she didn't have any, either.
"I said put her in there."
Simmons ordering him to do as she said should have made him irritated, but it didn't. Now, hours later, a small smile graced his lips at the memory of her bossiness. Only at a moment like that could the young biochemist get away with ordering him around.
"We need to get her to a medical facility and fast. Until then, I'll do everything I can…"
He heard Simmons rattling off what needed to be done, but he only heard it in the distance. His mind and body were too focused on her appearance, her still body, the barely there breath everyone could see and hear but not feel.
There were so many wishes and regrets swimming in his mind that he was surprised he wasn't dizzy. Nevertheless, he would not leave her side. She'd been persistent to stay with him; he knew and felt the need to reciprocate the actions. If he didn't, he was afraid she'd vanish.
Phil Coulson wasn't one to be afraid of anything, but he was now while he stood next to the hyperbaric chamber, left hand on the capsule with his right hand at his side, staring down at her. He willed her to wake up so he could see those beautiful chocolate doe eyes. Coulson swore to God that he would always cherish her, to let her know just how special she really was to him.
"…She means so much to you."
Coulson snapped his eyes tightly shut, trying to erase Quinn's taunting voice. One tear slipped from his tightly sealed eyes, slithering down a track on his cheek. Get out, get out, GET OUT! He screamed.
Quinn's smug smile haunted him. The man had felt like he was on top of the world, like he was in very good graces with his boss. What was the Clairvoyant's end game? Did the Clairvoyant have an unspoken beef with him? Coulson couldn't figure out what he'd done to piss anyone of this level off.
"His pet protégé…" (Okay, not exactly sure if that's how Quinn said it, but we'll pretend)
Skye was definitely more than his protégé by far. And apparently, the "Clairvoyant" was well aware of this.
Coulson breathed heavily, willing his heart to calm down. He couldn't afford to get all riled up. When it came down to it, he was team leader. Not only did Skye need him, but his team did as well.
His tears echoed as they hit the glass chamber like a bass drum. Each droplet deafened the now closed lab, echoing not only his little world but bouncing off the walls as well.
Popping his eyes open, he blurry-eyed stared at the young hacktivist. Blinking back a few tears, he finally resorted to wiping them clear away before settling his vision back on the woman.
Bending down, he finally spoke after hours. "Fight, Skye." He pleaded, voice breaking through the otherwise strong tone. "I can't lose you. Fight for me, Skye." He whispered.