Asia was on the ground, hunched over Trip, hands pressed over his shoulder and arm, clearly coated in blood, when Coulson entered the room, gun raised. "Coulson," she choked out, tears running down the side of her face. "Trip needs help, we, we need to help him," she managed to say, her words catching in her throat. She knew this was bad, very very bad. Despite Trip's bulletproof vest, a bullet had caught him in the arm, and one right between his neck and shoulder. If they didn't get medical attention soon....oh God, she didn't want to think about it. One of her oldest friends, one of the truly good people on this planet, Jemma's love.....she couldn't let this happen.
"He's going to bleed out, Sir," Fitz said from where he had begun installing the transceiver. He couldn't move, watching Asia pressing frantically on Trip's wounds. And what was going on inside Asia's head was even worse.
Inside her head, she was back on the kitchen floor of her family home, blood all over her hands, her body, as she tried with no avail to put pressure on her parent's wounds, even though they were long beyond saving. And now, here she was again, pressing over the wounds of someone she loved, blood coating her hands, her fingers, latching onto her skin. She could see it all so clearly, the warm wooden floors, the cupboard she had crawled out of, the SHIELD agents storming in, guns raised, her parents' lifeless eyes. It was all so real, as if this moment in time didn't really exist, it was just that moment forever, endlessly, breaking her heart over and over again. Her hands were shaking in front of her, covered in Trip's blood, her parent's blood...there was so much blood... "Monroe," one of the agents in her family's home shouted at her. "Monroe, snap out of it!"
Suddenly, she jolted away from Trip, Coulson's voice cutting through crystal clear. She wasn't stuck back there, in her past, she was in the building surrounded by her team and towers of electronics. But the blood was still all over her hands. She shoved her back against one of the towers, feeling the hum beneath her skin, trying to ground herself back to where she was, the here and now.
"We need to stop his bleeding," Coulson said, looking over at her. "You've done a good job so far Monroe, you put pressure on the wounds, that helped. But we need to find something else to stop this." He shrugged off his jacket, pressing the fabric over Trip's bullet wounds. The agent groaned, his breath coming out shaky.
Suddenly, one of the workers they had freed from HYDRA's captive stumbled into the room. "Um, excuse me," he said, quietly making his way over to the four of them. "I'm sorry to intrude, I heard the yelling. I, um, I'm a doctor. I can help," he announced, crouching down. "Just, um, give me a moment here," he dropped a satchel off his shoulder and pulled out a small medical kit.
Asia was still so stunned she could barely even take account of what was happening around her. All she could focus on was her breathing, keeping herself where she was, in the present, in this scene.
"Luckily," the man with the long, scraggly, lightly greasy hair began, "This first bullet in the arm is a through and through. Quick fix. This is other one, that's going to be a bit more difficult. But we can make it work. Hand me that scalpel please." he pointed at his bag. Coulson grabbed it and handed it quickly to him, assisting the doctor in work as best he could.
Fitz turned to Asia, brow furrowing. She looked so...lost. And she never looked like that. As long as he had known her, except for that moment when the Bus was shutting down, and now, she had always known exactly where she needed to be. She had a presence. He started to take a step towards her, but Coulson whirled to face him. "Fitz, our time is running out. Get that transceiver installed, now." As much as he wanted to stop, to help her, he had an order. He turned back to his task at hand, making quick work of the time he had left.
"Alright, we're nearly finished," the man said, "This bullet here," he pointed down at Trip's arm. "Is holding open the wound. We have to be quick, and careful. But we may still pull this off, Phil." And just like that, the room froze. Fitz looked over his shoulder. Asia looked up, surprised. Coulson had never said his name. All throughout the night, none of them had referred to him by his first name. So...how. "Oh wow, I'm sorry," the guy chuckled. "Should not have said your name, should I? I figured you wouldn't have recognized me from that photo I left for her. But now I've gone and messed that right up." He grinned down at Trip's arm as he spoke, almost as if he was afraid to look Coulson up in the eye.
Coulson slowly drew his pistol from his belt and aimed it at Skye's father's head. "Give me one good reason I should pull this trigger right now."
"Ah, wouldn't recommend that one," Skye's dad chuckled again. "This clamp right here is holding him together. I just sliced his brachial artery. If I let go, he will bleed out in under a minute. So, up to you if you want to lose this man to take down me." He finally looked Phil in the eye. "Is that a gamble you want to make?" He held out his free hand expectantly, waiting for Coulson to hand him the gun.
Slowly, Coulson placed it in his open hand, not breaking eye contact. Skye's dad smiled, then nodded back at Fitz and Monroe. "Them too, though I don't think she will be shooting anyone any time soon."
Coulson looked back at the two of them. "Fitz, Monroe, you heard him. We're not about to lose an agent today. Hand over your weapons." He looked at Asia, unsure if she had really heard him. Her eyes appeared glazed over. He knew her history, he knew what this must have reminded her of. And they would talk about it, later, when everyone was safe.
Fitz stepped away from the transceiver, which he had finished installing while they were all having their chat. As crazy as it was that this man had turned out to be Skye's father, he had a task at hand that he needed to finish. Now that he had, everything was fair game. He pulled the gun from his waistband and put it on the ground, sliding it over to Skye's father. Asia still hand't moved. She had one hand resting lightly on her rifle beside her, looking down at her hand intently. What exactly was she so focused on? Carefully, Fitz walked over to her, crouching down. "I'm going to take this, okay?" he asked her quietly. She gave him the tiniest of nods, but didn't look up at him. She didn't take her eyes off her hand. Gently, he grabbed the gun and pulled it away from her. Then, he got back up and brought it over to Coulson and Skye's dad, setting it on the floor.
"Skye wouldn't want Trip to die," he addressed Skye's father, quietly yet evenly. "They're very good friends, he wouldn't want that."
The man's gaze only flicked momentarily up to Fitz, before looking back at Coulson fervently. "She's not here, is she?"
"No, she's far from here," Coulson said evenly, not wanting to give him even a hint of where his daughter might be. This man was clearly out of his damn mind. He was using a human being as a bargain, a human begin his own daughter cared about intensely.
"Oh good, good. Wouldn't want her to see me like this, now would I?" he laughed to himself, adjusting his grip on the clamp on Trip's shoulder. "This is quite compromising, though, I suppose the end justifys the means. I don't want to be threatening you guys, I hope you understand." He shook his head, looking down. "It was just unfortunate that it appears we both had the same idea, of mapping the world to find the city. I'm very surprised you're here. Whitehall...well, he didn't even know that the city existed, until I told him about it. He thinks the Diviner is just a weapon. What a fool."
Coulson looked at him, brows raised. Surprised. "It's more than just a weapon?" he asked slowly. "What does it do?"
"Oh, I can't tell you that, Phil," the man grinned a toothy grin. "That'd give away half the fun. This whole thing is so exciting. Life, death, the race to the finish line. It's going to get messy, that's for sure. And my baby, ahhh," he sighed. "She's going to be right there in the thick of it. I'm so proud of her, I can't wait to see all she can do."
"I understand that you want to meet her," Coulson began, choosing his words carefully. This was a very delicate situation, after all. "She's been looking for her family for a long time. But I need you to understand, if you let this man here die, Skye will never--"
"That's not her name!" the man roared, a furious sense of rage forming in his eyes, pupils dilating as he screamed. Even Coulson almost jumped back. "You act like her father, but you're not. That is not her name. And I'm not that much of a monster. I won't let him die. I'm going to tell you exactly how to save him, and while you work on that, I'm going to make my getaway." He had clearly thought this whole thing through. He began to detail to Phil exactly what needed to be done to save Trip's life. With Coulson and Fitz working on him, they should be able to make quick work of it and get him back to the plane.
"Alright Phil, here we go," the man handed him a syringe and let go of Trip's arm. Immediately, Coulson was shooting the clotting agent into his agent. As he did so, Skye's father disappeared into the shadows, as if he had never been there, as if the entire conversation had never occurred.
"Alright, team, we're going to get Trip out of here. Fitz, hand me that bandage," Coulson ordered. Fitz grabbed the package from the ground, tearing it open and handing it to his leader. Phil quickly wrapped Trip up, sealing his wounds tightly. They were going to be alright, they were going to make it out of here. "Now, check on Agent Monroe, please. Make sure she is okay. We need her on her A game for us to get out of here safely."
Fitz didn't need to be told twice. He moved quickly to Asia's side. "Hey, umm, are you alright?" He asked her quietly, placing a soft hand on her shoulder, warm, protective. If she had looked up at him, she would have seen the pure caring and concern radiating from them. But she didn't look up.
Instead she flinched away from his touch, almost as if she were terrified of the contact. She pushed herself slowly up the wall, testing her legs to make sure they would support her if she stood. She was still trying to focus herself, ground herself. She was trying to shake off the ghosts of her past dragging her down. All she truly knew was that she hadn't been able to do anything the night her parents were murdered and her sister was stolen, and she wasn't able to do anything today to protect her team. All that progress she had made, all the amends she had made, it was all disappearing, the same way the blood was dripping off of her hands. "I'm fine," she said quietly, embarrassed. Natasha would be so ashamed. Clint would have...she wasn't sure what he would have done. He would have felt pity for her, probably. She was making a fool of her mentors. She stood up, brushed her long hair over her shoulders, and walked over to Coulson, helped him support Trip and lift him off the floor.
Fitz stared after her as the hobbled out of the room. It was almost as if everything that had happened between on their way here had been wiped away. Almost as if none of it had ever happened.