Skye fell into the bed at this weird camp for alien weapons and curled up into a ball under the blankets. The bed was comfy, the room clean, the air fresh and the people more or less understanding. For some reason these thoughts brought tears to her eyes.
She felt like a chasm had opened up inside her, like there was this giant hole that a hundred pizza nights couldn't fill. It wasn't quite loneliness, she had had plenty of experience with that.
Lincoln was nice, kind and sweet, just the sort of guy she would have gone for once upon a time.
Gordon seemed to have faith in her, believe that she could be something good, even if he wasn't around all the time.
Even Jiaying was willing to help her understand what had happened to her, to help her harness it.
But Skye missed her lumpy bed at the Playground, with it's stale air and no windows. She missed the giant mess that her room was, because she was the only one who knew where anything was. She missed the crappy food and their burnt out kitchen.
She missed Jemma, with her sweet smile, always there with a cup of tea after her morning training. Always trying to help her, even if she didn't really know how. Fitz's quiet optimistic nature, there for her, ready with a hug when she needed it and always prepared to listen.
Bobbi, trying to make her feel better even when she was locked in quarantine and looked like hell.
Hunter, ready with a sarcastic comment for every order he was given.
Skye sobbed into the too-perfect pillow.
Coulson, bringing snacks to mission reports, heading arguments with the team about why Captain America was the best Avenger, even if most of them disagreed.
May, her quiet, caring way. Not asking if something was wrong, just knowing. Waking her up for training in increasingly annoying ways. Joining with Skye's argument for Thor being the best, the tiny grin on her face when Coulson groaned.
Was this what being homesick felt like?
The tears continued to come and Skye only wanted one of them to come and tell her it was all okay. She missed them so much, her friends, family, team, whatever they were. She wanted to go home.
It took another minute of quiet crying for Skye to notice that her room was shaking gently, the items within rattling with it. She was gratified to realise that it was just her room, not the rest of the place, and made no effort to stop it. Who even cared?
Skye had never missed anyone as much as this. She had never longed for her cold, lumpy bed like this.
She had never had a home to miss.
Fitz's voice came to her mind. 'You're different now, and there's nothing wrong with that.' Another sob.
'At her heart, she's still a red 62 Corvette.' Arms wrapped tightly around the pillow.
'I think you're a rock star.'
'I just want you to be safe Skye, you know that, right?' Oh God, she missed them so much.
A stronger voice now. 'We can do this Skye, you can do this.' Her breathing was shuddering, and it was difficult for Skye to tell whether she or the room was shaking more. 'I believe in you.' She sniffled.
Skye wanted them there with her, she wanted their support, their guidance and their faith in her. But the truth was that none of them were. She was alone in the place, and she didn't even know if her friends were safe.
She would give herself this night. One night to lose it, then tomorrow to work. Once she got this under control, Skye would go and find her friends.
But for now she bunched the blankets around her, closed her eyes and pretended that the sounds of nature were the sounds of the quinjet coming in, that her bed was uncomfortable, and her family were all there too.
It almost helped.