Here Comes The Sun

A New Problem

Phil woke up in the middle of the night, a cold one in mid-November, having a weird feeling in his stomach-diaphragm area. The gut. The feeling like someone was in danger, or in danger of being in danger. He looked beside him, May sleeping lightly curled up against him. He knew she had a weapon concealed under that pillow. He had one too.

He woke her up with a light tap and he nodded towards the door. Even bleary-eyed and half awake, May knew what he meant. She got up and checked the bathroom while Phil crept out to the corridor. He heard noises coming from the nursery and followed silently.

Phil peeked into the slightly open door that he remembered he left exactly so, an inch and a half open. He heard Skye giggling and someone laughing with her. Suddenly, there was a bright blue flash, and then a voice.

"Calvin, your time is up. You can see her again tomorrow," the voice said calmly.

"Why can't I bring her with me?" another voice demanded quietly. "She's my daughter, not the kid of these— these kidnappers!"

Phil reeled from the door, but kept listening.

"Jiaying said she's safer here until her powers emerge," the first one said. "And you have no say in the matter. You left Daisy alone in the first place."

"Don't you dare blame me for any of this, Gordo. Whitehall had to go and cut up my wife's body and harvest all of her organs, and I had to stitch her up. You should've been there to take her to Afterlife. I don't trust any of these people to take care of my Daisy."

"Well, you've got to anyway. We'll get her when the job is done."

"When can we finish this, once and for all? I'm tired of waiting."

By then, May had caught on and was at the door as well. She exchanged worried glances with Phil.

"Jiaying'll fill you in when we get back. And in due time, we will destroy SHIELD, and take back what is ours."

"Fair enough. I just want my Daisy back."

"Soon."

There was another bright flash, and Phil burst into the room, not to find the intruders, but to get Skye. He found a note with her in the crib.

"May," he said, calling her into the room. "May, look at this."

She came over and let out a breath as she read it. May looked at him. "What does this mean?"

Phil studied the notecard and the room, and then stared down at the baby in the crib. "I don't know," he admitted, watching Skye pull herself up by the crib railing. "I guess we'll have to see."

Phil reached for May's hand and he took it, wondering if she could feel the shake in his hands and the terror crawling up this throat, threatening to burst out in pieces of blood and bone. He squeezed, and she squeezed back.

"You think it'll be okay?" she whispered.

"Nope." Phil sighed. "Time to move."