───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
CHAPTER SEVEN
EVERY DAY'S A LEARNING
OPPORTUNITY
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

            NINETEEN HOURS BEFORE THE BUS EXPLODED, Carol-Anne Harper was stood behind the briefing room table with a deep frown etched upon her face and a coffee cooling agonisingly slowly in her hands. The drink she had made for Ward was placed between them as she stood between him and May, all of their eyes trained upon Coulson with the same incredulous expression upon their faces.

    "Skye and Douglas?" Ward repeated back at him. "Those two aren't qualified to be S.H.I.E.L.D agents."

    "Agreed," responded Coulson. "That's why I've invited them on as consultants. S.H.I.E.L.D does it all the time. Technically Stark's just a consultant."

     Agent May gave a small, disbelieving scoff, and Anne nodded in agreement. At least it wasn't just her that thought this was a truly terrible idea.

     "And technically, Skye's a member of the Rising Tide, and Douglas is a bank robber," said Ward. "Skye hacked our RSA implementation —"

     "—Twice," interrupted Coulson, staring at each of them in turn. "From a laptop. Imagine what she'll do with our resources."

     "I am," said Ward. "That's exactly what I'm imagining during this frown. You brought me on for a risk assessment? She's a risk." He leaned forwards slightly, dropping his voice a little lower. "She doesn't think like us."

     Coulson smiled. "Exactly."

     "And Douglas?" Ward said, straightening back up. "We know nothing about the guy, aside from that he's an escaped convict."

     "We know he can bake," Anne replied with an absentminded shrug.

     Ward stared at her. "Whose side are you on here, Harper?"

     She glanced at him. "Oh, yours," she said with a nod and a furrowed brow. "Completely, and always. Sir, with all due respect, Ward's right. This is too big a risk." She glanced between the agents, shaking her head slightly. "You know I'm all for second chances, but inviting them onto this Bus and essentially welcoming them into the team when all we really know about them both is that Skye hacked us, and Dougie's escaped prison three times — it just seems a little too risky."

     Coulson began tapping upon a tablet in his hand. "Understood," he said. "And your apprehension will be on record. But we're doing it."

     She took a sip of her coffee. "I'm not comfortable with Dougie being on this Bus."

     "You're fine with Skye?" Ward asked, an eyebrow raised.

     She shook her head. "More fine with Skye," she corrected. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not comfortable with that either. She's succeeded in hacking us twice, and she doesn't seem to be a huge fan of S.H.I.E.L.D. But at least we know what her skill set is. She hacked us. She's good. I'm not comfortable with it — at all — and I really don't like it, but I suppose it makes more sense to have her working with us than against us." Then she paused, staring at Coulson. "What's Dougie even going to be a consultant on? How we bake our banana bread?"

     "Have you read up on his bank heist yet, Agent Harper?" Coulson asked, momentarily glancing up from the tablet screen.

     "Not yet sir, no," she replied truthfully. "I was planning on reading through it during the flight to the 0-8-4."

     "It was impressive," Coulson explained. "Professional. Happened at night, like he said. He, and whomever he was with, entered through the lift shaft, and drilled through the wall into vault. They were gone before anyone even knew they'd been there. They still don't think they've recovered everything they took."

     Anne stared at him blankly. She blinked. She turned to Ward. They exchanged a glance, the same thought seemingly on both their minds.

     "And you're inviting him onto this Bus?" Ward asked, his eyebrows raised. Anne couldn't quite find the words to explain her disbelief, so simply nodded in agreement.

     "Dougie's far smarter than he's letting on," Coulson explained.

     Anne shook her head. "Sir, with all due respect, you didn't see him eating the noodles earlier. It was grim." She dropped her voice to a whisper, eyes far off as the image of Dougie sitting there with noddles hanging out his mouth haunted her. "Real grim."

     Ward nodded beside her.

     "Lack of table manners aside," Coulson said, "He's an asset. They both are. Like Ward said, they don't think like us."

     "They're also not trained," May said, walking closer to the table. "We have two kids on this Bus who aren't cleared for combat. You're doubling that number."

     "At least Fitz-Simmons are trained S.H.I.E.L.D scientists, but Skye and Douglas?" Ward said, giving a small shake of his head. "You said this was a select team. Assembled to work new cases, to protect people. I don't see how letting some hacker and a criminal tag along —"

     "I'm looking for an objection I haven't already anticipated." Coulson's words were direct, glancing at each agent individually. Swallowing her words, Anne remained silent as Coulson looked at her. He looked to May last, who reluctantly stood down. "I'm calling this, but your frown will be on record."

     Anne hoped her frown would be on record too.

     It really wasn't that she didn't trust Coulson's judgement — she just didn't completely trust Skye or Dougie. She didn't like not knowing whether she could trust people. Coulson, she trusted wholeheartedly. You couldn't find an agent more loyal to S.H.I.E.L.D, and would be hard pressed to find a better man. Agent May, she trusted. She may have only just met her, but May's abilities were undeniable, and it wasn't like Agent Melinda May was a name unheard of by anyone in S.H.I.E.L.D. It seemed the second you walked through the Academy doors, you'd know her name. Fitz and Simmons, she trusted. She may not know them well, but she knew them well enough to know they were hardworking agents, and they seemed friendly enough. Ward, she trusted completely. He was probably one of the people she trusted most of all. From the day she'd met him, she'd trusted him. Through all their years together at the Academy, and all their time as field agents, she had trusted him — and she trusted him still. Her trust in him had only grown stronger over time.

     Skye and Dougie, she didn't know. She didn't know them, and she didn't trust them. Dougie, she trusted slightly less — committing a bank heist would do that — but Skye was still a member of the Rising Tide, and giving her access the their equipment just seemed like a potential mess waiting to happen.

     If this were her call — which it wasn't, she knew — she'd send them to the Academies. Give them the training they needed, and figure out who they were there. Besides, anyone that made it through any of the Academies, Anne instinctively trusted. It wasn't easy to get through all that training.

     "We've been called in to investigate an 0-8-4," said Ward. "We all know what that means."

     "Yes, we do," Coulson agreed, handing over his tablet to May. She gave a nod, and left the room. "It means... we don't know what that means."

     Even despite their current circumstances, and the knots forming in her stomach as she thought about Skye and Dougie, Anne couldn't help the smile from dancing through her eyes as she thought about the 0-8-4. She knew this job was going to be tiring, and she knew the utter exhilaration that came from dealing with the complete unknown would probably wear off at some point, but she'd be lying if she said this wasn't exactly what she'd hoped for when she fantasied about joining S.H.I.E.L.D as a child.

     But then Skye and Dougie faded back into her mind, and apprehension crashed through her like a tidal wave of fear. All excitement dissipated into nothing.

     "You two should go and strap yourselves in," Coulson said, drawing her out her mind. "May will be taking off any minute now."

     Anne gave a polite nod, exiting the room the way she'd come in, Ward close behind her. As soon as they were out of Coulson's earshot, she turned back around, staring up at Ward.

     "I don't like this," she said, thrusting her free hand deep into her jacket pocket. "There's a difference between Stark, and Skye and Dougie. Stark's an Avenger, and his father was one of the founders of S.H.I.E.L.D. We don't know anything about these two."

     Ward gave a nod, manoeuvring past her to pick up two nearby pamphlets with the hand that wasn't holding his mug. "I know," he said. "I don't like this either. Agent May's right about there being four people on this Bus not cleared for combat. I can't do my job and babysit."

     She fixed him a look, taking another sip of her coffee, which had finally cooled to a reasonable temperature. "Okay, first of all, it's not babysitting," she said with an irritated sigh. "Fitz-Simmons are trained S.H.I.E.L.D agents, they're just not combat trained. So we just don't let them see combat. Secondly, I'm stood right here. It's not just you working this job, Ward. I'm not that eighteen year old kid you first met in the Academy — we've worked together in the field before, and you should know by now I can handle myself."

     "We've worked together once, and you got shot."

     "Please stop bringing that up."

     May's voice cut through the air across the intercom. "Wheels up in two," she announced, and Anne gave a nod, as though she expected May to see her. "Lock it or lose it."

     She furrowed her brows, glancing back up at Ward. "We'll manage though, right?" She chewed on the skin by her thumbnail. "I mean, we're both good agents. I've seen you in the field — granted, not for a while, but I doubt you've suddenly lost all the abilities you once had. Between us, we can manage this. And then with Agent May and Coulson..."

     Her voice faded out as she ran through the possibilities in her mind. They could manage this. Despite their bickering, she knew Ward was an exceptional agent, and it wasn't as though Anne was some bumbling idiot herself. If Coulson was set upon having Dougie and Skye upon this team, he must have weighed up the risks. Agent May might be just the pilot, but she'd already seen combat once on this team - a sight Anne still wasn't entirely recovered from. She'd heard May was good, perhaps one of the best, but seeing it in action was something different entirely.

     If push came to shove, and things became too much for Anne, Coulson, and Ward to handle, surely they would be able to rely upon her stepping in again. A part of Anne felt awful for assuming that, but it was a safety net. Anne liked safety nets, at least when it came to the well-being of other agents. Always have a contingency plan, that's what her mother had always said. Hopefully they would never need it, but it would be there. May would be there.

     It wasn't until her feet came to a stop that she realised she'd followed Ward over to Skye and Dougie. Simmons stood beside the pair as Fitz placed a box of Skye's belongings upon her new bunk, engaging in some small talk. Skye kept hold of two full bags of belongings, meanwhile Dougie seemed only to have a small rucksack to his name, which he was clasping tightly with both his hands.

     Realising Skye still needed to get to her bunk and that he was blocking her, lingering in the doorway, Fitz hurried quickly away. "Sorry, you can..." he said, awkwardly shuffling on.

     Skye gave a polite smile and dropped her bags upon the neatly made bed, besides the box. Skye's bunk, Anne noted, was the one directly next to her own, with the only other spare bunk — which Anne assumed was probably now Dougie's — being between Skye's and Fitz's, who slept at the end of the row. Hopefully, Skye didn't snore.

     Ward handed Dougie a pamphlet as he passed him, before knocking on Skye's door and doing the same.

     "Hey," she said, cheerfully. "I know we didn't really —"

     "Might wanna read that," he said, cutting her off. "This isn't like other planes."

     And then he was gone, walking off before Skye had a chance to respond. Anne shot her an apologetic smile.

     "Welcome aboard," she said, glancing back at Dougie, who had thrown himself backwards into his bunk. His legs hung over the edge of the bed, and Anne could see his shadow reading through the safety pamphlet. She tilted her head a little, Coulson's explanation of the bank heist still playing on loop. He didn't seem much like a master criminal, capable of pulling off something that professional. Still, if this job had taught her anything, looks could be pretty deceiving. She smiled at Skye. "You might want to strap yourself in. We'll be lifting off soon."

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

     Dougie had scoured through the safety pamphlet over and over throughout the flight, memorising every possible exit to the plane. Or, Bus, rather, seeing as that was what Fitz had said they called it. Something about preferring to use shorthand while in the field.

     Coulson had approached him and Skye separately earlier that day, asking whether the pair would be interested in stepping aboard the Bus as S.H.I.E.L.D consultants, at least for a while. "A chance to redeem yourself," he'd called it. "A chance to be the one putting the good out in the world."

     So here he was, with a bunk on a plane, surrounded by trained S.H.I.E.L.D agents, one of which had already knocked him out. He had his bag back, at least. It had pretty much all of his belongings in it, including a some clothes he could finally change into. He loved pyjamas as much as the next guy, but when everyone around you was hard at work and half of them carried guns, pyjamas could leave you feeling a little exposed. Pretty much as soon as the plane lifted off, he changed into some actual clothes, before unpacking what little belongings he owned.

     It wasn't long before the Bus landed, coming gently to the ground upon a dirt runway. While everyone loaded out the Bus and into two SUV's, he folded the safety pamphlet carefully up and placed it in his back pocket.

     The drive was short and bumpy, and nobody had really explained to Dougie where he was going yet. Anne had said something about at 0-8-4 being an object of unknown origin, and Coulson had said that the team's job was to determine if it was useful or if it could be a threat, but nobody had told him where they were going or what they were going to do when they did there.

     Dougie was starting to suspect they didn't know.

     They came to a stop in some sort of camp in the middle of a forest, like something out an 'Indiana Jones' film. He should have worn a hat, live out his childhood dreams.

     Hopping out the SUV, he held out a hand in an offer to carry one of Simmons' bags for her. She gave a thankful smile, handing him one.

     "Tire tracks, 40 meters back," Ward said, while Anne gave a nod. "I'll check them against the site's trucks, make sure we're alone."

     "I'll look this way," Anne agreed, marching off in the opposite direction.

     May nodded, leaning out the door of the SUV and scanning her eyes across the camp. "Too much exposure here," she said. "I'm going to find a place to park."

     She climbed back into the car, switching on the engine. Dougie awkwardly shuffled out the way, following Fitz and Simmons as they walked off after Coulson and Skye.

     "I would love to see a capuchin in the wild." Fitz grinned, staring wide eyed at the trees that surrounded them. Dougie wasn't entirely sure what a capuchin was, but he also was pretty sure he didn't want to meet one. The people on this team seemed to be way too interested in things that quite frankly, were a little terrifying. For all he knew, a capuchin could be like one of those weird aye-aye things in Madagascar that one of his friends had shown him a picture of once, and scarred him for life. To be fair, he was probably being a little unfair to aye-ayes, capuchins, Madagascar, and Fitz, but he simply couldn't risk it. Wild animals should stay in the wild, far away from him, and that was that, even if he didn't even know where exactly in the wild a capuchin was supposed to be, or what it even was.

     He took out his phone and googled it, and found a picture of a baby capuchin, and now he really wanted one as a pet. Maybe he could find one when people weren't looking.

     Fitz-Simmons' conversation moved on. "Maybe even a yellow-tailed woolly monkey," Fitz continued. "You know, um, Peru has 32 different species of monkeys."

     "Yeah, and close to 200 species of snakes," Simmons said, dodging out the way of Fitz as he hit the case he was carrying against the edge of the SUV. "The shushúpe has a fascinating venom. It's neurotoxic, proteolytic, and haemolytic!"

     Simmons let out an impressed laugh. Fitz let out a laugh, but it certainly wasn't one born from joy. "That's fascinating." He said, looking around slightly worriedly.

     "Yeah!" Simmons said, before glancing back at Fitz's concerned face. Her voice softened. "Oh, no, I'd be much more concerned with earthquakes, mala—" She reached up and slapped a bug off the back of Fitz's neck and laughed. "There's no vaccine for Dengue Fever!"

     "What's an aye-aye?" Dougie asked, and both the scientists turned back to look at him.

     "It's a type of lemur," Simmons explained. "Endangered now, mostly because of the destruction of forests, but also because some people see it as a bringer of evil, and so it's killed on sight."

     Dougie nodded, crossing the aye-aye off his future pets list. Turns out he'd been right about them all along.

     Simmons turned back around, gasping. "Look at this!" She exclaimed in awe. Dougie looked up, eyes widening. 

     Before them stood a temple, plants growing from the stone walls. It towered above them all, so high Dougie had to crane his neck to see the top. Leading up the first section were some steps, carved carefully into the stone, eventually reaching a small doorway. Dougie couldn't help the smile spreading across his face. You didn't see sights like that in a bakery.

     "We should warn the people that live around here that the 0-8-4 is dangerous," Skye said from behind him, fighting her way through some trees as she followed Coulson. "They're already dealing with anti-mining rebels and the Shining Path Guerrillas. I could post something."

     "Remember the panic when that anti-matter meteor splashed down just off the coast of Miami, nearly devoured the city?" Dougie heard Coulson ask.

     Skye paused. "No."

     "Precisely. Because we kept it quiet and contained."

     "So, what am I doing?" Skye asked.

     "Well, if it gets out, I might need you to create some kind of diversion, put the public on the wrong scent."

     Skye gave a slow nod. "So, everything that I'm against."

    "Yep," Coulson replied, turning and walking over to the entrance of the temple.

     Dougie sent Skye a smile. "Hey, it makes you feel any better, I don't know why I'm here either," he said with a shrug. "But I am learning a lot about monkeys. Peru has 32 different species. Also, did you know an aye-aye was a lemur?

    "...I did not."

     "Every day's a learning opportunity, that's what I always say!" Dougie replied brightly, and Skye gave him a look.

     "I have never once heard you say that."

     He paused, before continuing on cheerfully. "That's what I'll be saying from now on!"

     Out the corner of his eye, he could see Coulson ascending the stairs, walking past Fitz-Simmons who were in the process of taking a selfie. Quickly, Dougie hurried after him, taking the steps three at a time.

     "Good morning, professor," Coulson said, greeting a man that exited the temple. He took his credentials out his pocket and showed them to him. "I'm Agent Coulson with S.H.I.E.L.D. I understand you've made an interesting discovery."

     The professor nodded, his hands on his hips as he shook his head. "I—I'm not sure how to explain it," he began. "This temple dates back at least 500 years. It's filled with pre-Incan artefacts." He paused, giving a wide armed shrug and inhaling deeply. "One of them is impossible, and looks like it might be dangerous."

     "Well," said Coulson, gesturing for the professor to head back through the door. "That's why we're here."

     Dougie followed the group through the entryway, ducking beneath the low hanging rocks.

     "Watch out," said the professor, pointing to a small drop in the ground. Dougie happily skipped down it, careful not to shake the bag he was holding. He didn't have a clue what was in it, but he'd been trusted to carry it, and he was going to be the best damn bag carrier the world had ever seen.

     He came to a sudden stop moments later, the entryway leading way to a larger cavern. Upon the wall, directly opposite them, ancient writing was etched, saying things Dougie didn't have the slightest clue the meaning of. Embedded deep into the stone, as though it was almost a part of the wall itself, was a shining metal object. Blue light illuminated the spots around it, but not enough to provide any real light to the room.

     "Cool," Dougie whispered.

     "Exactly as we found it," said the professor.

     Coulson walked closer, a frown upon his face. "Who else knows about this?"

     "Just the ministry," said the professor. "I believe they are the ones that contacted you."

     Quietly, Fitz began opening the case he'd been carrying. Dougie gently placed the bag he'd carried down beside him, and Fitz gave him a thankful smile. He and Simmons began unpacking their equipment, and Dougie watched in awe as a small drone picked up flight.

     "Sir, I need you and your team to evacuate the site until we determine the risk associated with this object," Coulson said.

     One of the drones hovered beside the professor, and Simmons gave a sigh. "Leave the man alone," she gently scolded. The drone flew on.

     "Now —" Coulson ordered, ushering the professor out. "For your own safety."

     The professor reluctantly nodded, backing back out the temple. Dougie gave him a small wave as he passed.

     "There's nothing about this anywhere," Skye said with a small, amazed laugh, tilting her phone so Dougie could see. He didn't entirely know what he was looking at, but he nodded anyway, following beside her as she walked onwards toward Coulson. "It's amazing. I searched every data stream. What have we got here, guys?"

     She reached out her hand to touch the device in the wall, making sure to avoid the areas the drones were scanning.

     "Whoa, care — uh, careful," Fitz warned. "I — no, I wouldn't do that."

     Skye withdrew her hand with a start.

     "The object's placement in the fossiliferous rock formation suggests it's been here for at least 1,500 years," Simmons said excitedly, glancing at Fitz. "That predates this temple by a millennium. Ah! Maybe it's alien!"

     Fitz nodded. "Yeah, but the shape and the craftsmanship... it's almost German."

     A beep sounded from Coulson's walkie-talkie, and Ward's voice crackled through. "Sir?"

     "Go," Coulson ordered.

     "We have a situation," Ward explained.

     Skye turned to him, eyebrows furrowed. "Lots of rebels in this area," she suggested.

     Coulson shook his head. "Not enough gunfire." He paused before turning back to Fitz and Simmons. "Keep working," he said, before clicking his walkie-talkie. "I'm on my way."

     Dougie's stomach dropped a little, and he stepped closer to Skye. He glanced back at the strange, maybe alien, maybe German object embedded deep in the wall, and when he turned back around to search for Coulson, he was already gone.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

     The ground crunched beneath Anne's boots, the leaves and bark that lined the soil crackling as she stepped upon them. Speckles of dirt were decorating her shoes, and she resisted the urge to sigh. She'd just cleaned them yesterday.

     A few minutes earlier, she'd found some other tire tracks with circling around her edge of the temple, but they matched with the site's trucks, so she'd continued on. Other than that, there seemed to be little of much note around her. Rocks, she supposed. Trees. There were a lot of trees. It was almost like she was in a jungle or something.

     Any other time, she supposed she'd have been able to enjoy it - at least a little, anyway. This was why she joined S.H.I.E.L.D. Well, not this exactly — she hadn't joined because she had some secret, deep seated love of jungles. If she had, she'd probably have become some kind of scientist or something. What was it that the people who studied jungles were called? She knew her brother had told her at some point, many years ago. An ecologist? A jungleologist? She didn't know. It was besides the point, anyway.

     And the point was, she didn't join S.H.I.E.L.D to study jungles, but she did join S.H.I.E.L.D with dreams of investigating 0-8-4's. Whatever was in that temple, Anne desperately wanted to see it.

     And yet, she knew the knots forming in her stomach weren't from excitement. It wasn't just the slight nerves that came every time she stepped out into the field, either.

     Skye and Dougie were too big a risk. It was one thing bringing them aboard the Bus - which she disagreed with anyway - but sending the pair into the field, to go and help investigate an object they knew nothing about? Ward had been right when he'd said that they were a risk.

     And May had been right when she'd said four of the people working on the team weren't cleared for combat, all of which were now standing inside the temple with the 0-8-4. Just the idea of it was sending beads of sweat prickling through her neck. Even if she did trust their two newcomers - which she didn't - she'd still think this was a terrible idea. They didn't even know what the object in question was. What if it was an evil robot thing, like those things from the 'Transformers' - what was it the villains from that were called, the Decepticons? If the 0-8-4 turned out to be a Decepticon and tried to take over the Earth, the only four people not cleared for combat were going to be the first four people they came across. At least Fitz-Simmons were trained S.H.I.E.L.D agents, but the two newcomers?

     Granted, that whole situation was rather unlikely, but they'd seen stranger things in recent months. It wasn't all that long ago that aliens flew through a wormhole and attacked New York. Sure, Decepticons might be taking it a little bit too far, but her point still stood. It stood on shaky ground, but it stood.

     Anne liked knowing things. She'd long since accepted always having all the answers was out of the question, but she liked having all the information, at least. That way, she could make an educated decision. She could assess the risks, and manage them. She could handle situations, and complete her missions with as few issues as possible.

     Right now, she had barely any information. She knew Skye was a member of the Rising Tide, but other than that, she knew virtually nothing about her. It wasn't through a lack of searching, either. If it weren't for the fact she'd met her, Anne would be tempted to question Skye's existence - she was practically a ghost. There was nothing out there about her.

     There was a fair amount out there about Dougie, but very little of it was good news. It was strange, though. There was very little about his early life - no school records, no medical records, no drivers licence. In fact, all there seemed to be was a birth certificate, dated twenty-five years ago come November, a couple of news reports upon the unsolved deaths of his parents, and then nothing until his really quite extensive criminal record, and then his employment as a baker - which had to be one of the weirdest career pivots she'd heard of in recent years.

     None of those things were easing Anne's fears. After her conversation with Coulson, she'd read over Dougie's file during the flight, and Coulson had been right in saying the bank heist was impressive. Like he said, it was professional. Well planned. Impeccably executed. Had it not been for the getaway driver, it seemed unlikely they'd ever have been caught. There was so little forensic evidence, it truly wouldn't have surprised Anne if they'd pulled a 'Se7en' on the investigators. The only thing convincing her that they hadn't was that Dougie definitely still had fingertips.

     They'd made one slip up. Just one. They used the same car as a getaway vehicle as they'd used to scope out the building over the preceding weeks. Running the plates had lead the police to the getaway vehicle, and Dougie just so happened to be a registered driver of the car. He'd confessed to his part in the heist, the owner of the car admitting that they'd been the getaway driver, and then both of them had fallen completely silent.

     Only those two had faced time for the job. Nobody knew how many people had truly taken part, and neither Dougie nor the guy he was arrested with gave the slightest hint regarding who they could be.

     Of course, that wasn't helping Anne's distrust of him. She'd read through the transcripts of his interrogations - his conduct in them was so drastically different from the Dougie she'd seen while questioning him, it was almost as though it was a completely different guy. The guy in the transcripts was cocky, and overconfident, and seemed to be barely taking anything seriously.

     The Dougie she'd questioned was scared.

     His leg had been bouncing, his hands shaking. His voice had been small, and though he'd sometimes seemed to try to find some humour in his answers, only an idiot would have missed the way his eyes darted around the room like a deer scanning the woods for predators. If it weren't for the fact she'd double checked everything herself, and the file had been given to her by Coulson, she wouldn't have believed they were the same person. The Dougie she'd met had been a far cry from the boy in that interrogation room.

     She didn't like it. She didn't like how different they were. She didn't like not knowing which one was the real him.

     Anne liked having all the information, but right now, she had none of it. She didn't know anything about Skye - she'd looked. What she did know about Dougie was more than a little concerning. She didn't know why Coulson was so insistent upon having them on the team, and she still didn't know what was inside that temple.

     She really wanted to know what that 0-8-4 was.

     Walking past a few more trees, Anne came to a stop behind Ward. He crouched on the ground, inspecting another set of tire tracks, frowning in concentration.

     "Hey," she said, cheerfully, trying to shove all her concerns down and smother them in the jungle's dirt.

     Ward's shoulders slumped slightly as he sighed. "Harper, don't sneak up on men with guns."

     "I wasn't sneaking," Anne replied, perhaps a tad defensively. "I was walking sensibly. Besides, you knew I was there."

     He responded without looking up. "And how do you know that?"

     She shrugged, walking in front of him and crouching down in front of the tire tracks. "Because if you hadn't, you'd have pulled a gun on me already."

     Ward didn't argue, because he knew she was right. She hid her grin, thrusting her hands into her jacket pockets, fiddling with the keychain within them. Her fingers brushed against the bracelet they still housed safely, a familiar sense of comfort washing through her as she grasped it. It was like an anchor, a lifeline to cling to, to calm her nerves. It was a small piece of home, reminding her that everything would be okay.

     Ward stood, straightening out the creases in his trousers. "Tracks fit the ones from the site's SUVs," he said.

     "Yeah," she agreed, following him as they continued circling the temple. "So did the ones I spotted a little way back. I think we're clear."

     The rustling of wildlife in the trees surrounded them, greenery ruffling as animals scampered within them. Anne didn't want to think too hard upon what they might hold. She wasn't an expert upon the wildlife of Peru, but she was reasonably certain they had spiders. Probably quite big ones, too. The idea of it sent shivers down her spine.

     "I do think you're right, by the way," Anne said, partly in a vague attempt to distract herself from the prospect of spiders. Ward arched an eyebrow at her. She shrugged. "About Skye and Dougie. I don't want to think you're right, but I do. This —" she paused, gesturing wildly around her. "—This whole thing is a bad idea. I don't like it. You know, I tried to look Skye up earlier. It's like she just doesn't exist. I don't like that. Dougie - he exists. Unfortunately, almost every single thing out there about him involves him being a criminal —"

     She became aware she was rambling, so she stopped. She paused for a moment, taking a breath, composing her thoughts. "Point is, I do agree with you and, you know, your reluctance to have the two of them on board."

     "I'm also reluctant to have you on board," said Ward, and Anne shot him a look.

     She grumbled, "I'm a damn delight. You should be glad you're working with me."

     Ward went to give some kind of response, but the buzzing from Anne's pocket distracted her. Holding up a finger to cut him off, she removed her phone from her pocket, a smile spreading across her face as she read the message that flashed upon the screen.

    "It's my dad," she explained, barely sparing Ward a glance as she began typing a response. "I'll say hi from you."

     "You don't need to do that," Ward responded, in a tone that suggested he really didn't want Anne to do that.

     She shrugged. "I'm doing it anyway," she said, doing exactly that. Beside her, Ward gave a heavy sigh.

     "You shouldn't be on your phone during missions," he said as Anne pocketed it.

     "Are we dead?" She asked, scarcely giving him time to respond. "No? Then I don't see why you're complaining. We're fine." Then, after a moment, she shrugged. "Besides, I knew you'd have my back if we were about to die."

     "One day, I might not," he said, and Anne scrunched up her nose. "You should be more aware of your surroundings."

     Everyone kept saying that to her. She scowled to herself. She was plenty aware of her surroundings, she thought, narrowly avoiding tripping over a rock. But she did avoid it, because, like she said, she was plenty aware of her surroundings.

     Ward shook his head, watching Anne as she booted the rock away from her. "The entire Harper family," he said, "And they chose you for this team."

     "The entire —" she gave him an incredulous stare. "Ward, there's like four of us left alive, let alone working for S.H.I.E.L.D. Dad's retired, mom's dead, James is..." She trailed off for a moment, shaking the thoughts of her older brother from her mind. "The point is, unless you want my ninety year old Nana watching your back in the field, you're stuck with me - or Benji, I guess, but I guess I'm just better than him in every conceivable way."

     They walked in silence for a moment, the sounds of the jungle surrounding them. Anne trained her ears for any kind of noise that didn't belong, desperate for any kind of distraction from the rapidly shrinking size of her family. Her hand brushed against her bracelet again, and the ghost of a smile flickered across her face. An anchor, she thought. The reason she fought as hard as she did for this job. She traced the outline of the pendant, feeling the engraving upon the charm. A single letter, cursive, swirling. H. Harper.

     Their family might be smaller now, but it was still hers.

     "I don't think your Nana's technically a Harper," Ward said, and Anne rolled her eyes warmly.

     "She's my Nana, Ward," she replied. "She's family."

     And then the silence was back, but it was less awkward this time. It was more comfortable, content. Anne smiled, rounding a corner.

     "How come your father isn't on this team?" Ward asked as the pair continued walking around the temple. Anne tilted her head at the intricate beauty of the stone carved steps. She wasn't one for ancient histories, she could appreciate its aesthetic artistry nonetheless.

     She arched an eyebrow at Ward, turning her attention away from the towering temple. "Well, much like I told you not two minutes ago — he's still retired."

     "You don't sound convinced."

     Anne hesitated, before shrugging. "Men like my father don't ever really retire," she explained, trying to fight back the hints of frustration that formed whenever she thought for too long about the topic. "He says he doesn't, but he misses the job. He misses the danger, the chaos, the thrill. He's already back to flying agents around — it's only going to be a matter of time before he's back out in the field properly."

     Ward nodded. "I imagine everyone would feel a little safer after that. He's a good man."

     "Why do you always compliment my dad, but never me?"

     "Your father's an exceptional agent, Harper."

     "And what am I, a duck?" Anne protested, shooting him a glare through narrowed eyes, her words half in jest. "I graduated the Academy a year early! I was top in almost all my classes! I'm twenty-three, and already level six!"

     "Your father worked with the Avengers," came Ward's flat response.

     "Well, that's hardly fair," Anne said. "I've asked him to give me Captain America's number, but apparently I can't be trusted with it."

     "I can't think why," Ward said dryly.

     Anne couldn't help her laugh, shaking her head and tugging at the elastic tying back her chestnut brown hair, pulling it into a tighter ponytail. She smoothed the small wisps of hair that had escaped back, brushing them out of her eyes.

     "How come he did retire?" Ward asked after a moment, and Anne gave a sharp exhale.

     "Oh, my God," she replied, a vague irritation edging through her voice, replacing the light humour that had been dancing across her face. "Seriously, what is your deal with my dad today?" Then she sighed, gaze dropping to the floor as she spoke slightly softer. "He said it was because he was getting old."

     "You don't believe him?" Ward phrased it like a question, but she knew it wasn't. There was little point in her lying to him, anyway. He had an annoying habit of seeing through her when she did that.

     "He always insisted he was young until we lost mom," she confessed, kicking at the dirt as they trudged along. "And that was, like... three months before he retired. He says he's getting old, but I know he didn't want to leave me and Benji alone. He didn't want to die on the field, and leave me and Benji with only each other - no mom, no James, and then no dad."

     Silence hung heavily as they walked. This silence smothered them; it was that awkward, sticky kind of silence, the one that choked the life from words before they were ever spoken, leaving you with nothing but an empty, sullen discomfort.

     Ward spoke first. "He's a good man," he said.

     "I'm starting to think you're in love with my dad," Anne responded, and Ward gave a deep, long suffering sigh. Anne fought back a grin.

     "Can we ever have a normal conversation?"

     "We've had plenty," she scoffed, fully aware of the fact the amount of normal conversations they'd truly had could probably be counted on one hand. "Besides, I'm not the one that seems to be building up the courage to propose to my friend's dad."

     They rounded another corner, coming back to the dirt road they'd driven down earlier that day. The entryway to the temple shadowed them, and Anne bit back a grin. Even after all these years, such sights never got less exciting.

     Standing up by the entrance, briefly nodding to the Professor as he exited the temple, Anne spotted May. Upon spotting the pair of them, May began her descent down the steps.

     "Tire's match the Prof's truck," Ward said, as the Professor hurried past them. His eyebrows knitted together as May got closer. "Where's your sidearm?"

     "If I need a gun, I'll take one," said May plainly, and Ward gave a small nod.

     "Right," he replied. "I forgot I was working with 'The Cavalry.'"

     For a moment, May seemed to tense, her gaze growing harder as she turned back to face him. Anne's blood chilled, despite not being the one on the receiving end of her icy cold glare.

     "Don't ever call me that," May said, her words unsettlingly calm for the force they held.

     Ward gave a nod. "Apologies," he said, turning away and checking out the jungle around them while May walked in the other direction. Anne, deciding that now seemed like a very bad time to start expressing her admiration for Agent May, walked forwards, following the jungle vines a little further down the dirt road.

     "I've heard the stories," Ward continued, walking backwards as he spoke to May. "What went down in Bahrain? About you in action?"

     Anne watched as May stiffened, shooting Ward a warning glare. Her glares weren't as withering as May's, but they usually got the point across.

     Except, apparently, today. Ward continued, ignoring the subtle shaking of Anne's head. He continued walking backwards, backing closer to the bushes, continuing to pursue a conversation May seriously didn't look like she wanted to have. "You know, it was smart of Coulson to pull you out of retirement. It's nice to have a trusted friend who has your back."

     The second he spoke his final word, the reason for his actions became clear. Reaching into a nearby bush, he yanked out a man dressed in camouflage, sending him and his gun sprawling across the jungle floor. Eyes wide, Anne whipped her head around, spotting a man darting from the tree line. She sprinted towards him, clenching his wrist with a vice like grip. Using his own momentum against him, she span, wrenching him sideways. He stumbled over his own feet. Anne didn't give him time to fall.

     Jerking his arm over her shoulder, she stuck her knee behind him, ducking to the earth. She flipped him over her shoulder, snatching his gun from his weakened arm as he slammed into the earth. Aiming his own gun at him, Anne quickly glanced at May and Ward, unwilling to take her eyes off her attacker for too long.

     Two camouflaged attackers lay at May's feet, guns Anne knew for a fact weren't hers pointed at their heads. Meanwhile, Ward held the man he'd pulled from the bushes in place with his sidearm.

     From down the dirt road, Anne heard the whirling of an engine. The sound of dirt being sprayed by speeding tires filled the air, the screeching of axles bouncing over bumps biting at Anne's ears like nails down a chalkboard. She spun, keeping gun trained on her attacker, watching as another SUV drove from the other side of her.

     May trained her guns towards them, while Ward yanked the man from the bushes upwards, keeping him in a headlock as he pointed his weapon towards the cars.

     Men poured out the vehicles, aiming their weapons and yelling directions at the three agents in a language Anne didn't know - Spanish, perhaps? Quickly, she withdrew her own gun from its holster, aiming it towards the nearest newcomer.

     They were drastically outnumbered. It was three against a couple dozen. All this time, Anne had been stressing about the Decepticons, and she had neglected to consider what would happen if the agents actually cleared for combat were the ones wiped out first.

     "Should have taken more guns," Anne heard Ward quip from across the sea of soldiers.

     A woman dressed in camouflage approached Ward and May, her hands upon her hips as she observed the scene. Radiating authority, she arched an eyebrow at the chaos.

     Ignoring the guns trained in her direction, Anne craned her neck to catch Ward's eye. Now would be a really good time to call for Coulson, she tried to wordlessly say.

     Ward nodded in agreement, reaching for his radio. "Sir?" He said, quickly gaining an affirmative from their boss. "We have a situation."

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

     "Buenos Dias," Coulson stated, marching out the temple and addressing the soldiers. "Soy Agent Coulson. Estamos aqui por in asunto de la seguridad internacional."

     Anne really needed to learn Spanish, she decided, a sense of relief flooding her system as she saw Coulson. The woman dressed in camouflage strode over to him, a few soldiers following close behind. Anne couldn't quite make out her face, but from the slight tilt of her head, she could tell something had surprised her.

     "Phillip?" She asked, disbelief lacing her words.

     A momentary shocked frown that etched its way across Coulson's face. "Camilla?" He asked, before gesturing towards the soldiers. "Do you mind?"

     The woman - Camilla, apparently - shrugged. "After you."

     Coulson gave a nod towards Ward, who shoved the soldier he'd been using as a shield away, lowering his gun. May slowly did the same, and Anne copied. She didn't offer the soldier gun back. That was hers now.

     Camilla gave the soldiers some orders in Spanish, and they lowered their weapons, backing away. Hurrying up the stairs, she smiled at Coulson. "And now for a proper hello," she said, taking off her glasses and kissing him on his cheeks with a grin.

     Anne exchanged a glance with Ward, biting back a grin of her own.

     "Comandante," Coulson said, nodding towards her uniform. "A promotion. Congratulations."

     Camilla offered a proud smile. "Three years ago, but thank you."

     "Agent Melinda May," Coulson said, not taking his eyes off Camilla. "Agent Grant Ward, Agent Carol-Anne Harper, this is Comandante Camilla Reyes. She's with the Policia Militar Del Peru. We used to work together back in the day."

     May gave a small, barely audible scoff, shooting a look between Anne and Ward. Anne swallowed the giggle that had been rising, desperately trying to fight back her grin.

     "Let the team know everything's okay," Coulson ordered, and Anne nodded, following May and Ward up the stairs and towards the temple.

     "I know you've found a strange object on Peruvian soil," Camilla said to Coulson as Anne passed. "We should have a conversation about how to proceed."

     "Of course," Coulson responded. "But an 0-8-4 supersedes all national claims."

     Anne was glad she'd reached the entryway to the temple by the time Camilla responded. "You look good," Camilla said, earning a tiny shrug from Coulson.

     "Yeah, I work out," he said, and Anne ducked inside the temple to hide her giggle, passing May, who hung back at the entryway.

     Dodging some low hanging rocks, Anne hopped over the small step down into the main cavern of the temple. She ran her hands against the cool stone - a welcome change from the heat of the sun outside. Beneath her fingers, she could feel the rims and edges of the stones that had been piled upon one another to create this monument, wonder lighting up her eyes. So this was where the 0-8-4 had been found.

     Skye's voice rang through the cavern, her words evidentially the tail end of a conversation Anne had missed. "It's totally weird, right?" She said, only to be greeted by silence. "I'm gonna go... check on Coulson."

     Ward cut her off before she could get far, Anne entering the cavern quickly after him. "We've got company," he said, glancing towards the two scientists, who were crouched by the exit, staring between their screens and the wall opposite them. No, not the wall. The object in the wall. With a start, Anne realised that must be the 0-8-4. Eyes wide, she hurried over.

     Dougie sat next to the scientists, watching in awe as they controlled drones to inspect the object imbedded deep within the temple.

     "National police," Ward explained, earning two frowns from Fitz and Simmons.

     "What?" Simmons asked, as Fitz looked behind them.

     "Why are they here?" He asked, sounding genuinely confused.

     "They heard about this object," said Ward, walking over to stare at the device too. "They're probably here to protect it."

     Anne stared in wonder at the object, completely clueless as to what it could be. It was embedded so deep within the wall, it was almost as though the wall had grown around it, rather than the stone having trapped it somehow. Of course, Anne knew that wasn't the case - that would just be ridiculous - but the unnatural tightness of the object in the wall couldn't be denied. An unnatural blue glow radiated from it, made even more eerie by its reflection upon the metal.

     "This area has lots of rebel uprisings," Ward said, and Skye nodded.

     "Yeah," she said, glancing back at Dougie and Fitz-Simmons. "People are fighting back against the government's mining policies. It's pretty kick ass."

     Ward shot her a glare. "Yeah, it's kick ass, all the violence."

     "That's not what I'm saying."

     "No, that's what you're typing. In your van, alone, where it's safe." He turned his attention to Fitz-Simmons. "How much longer?"

     For the first time since Anne had met her, Simmons allowed herself to sound vaguely irritated. "What's the hurry?" She asked, frustration lacing her words.

     "Are we in danger?" Fitz asked. Dougie shot the agents a worried look at Fitz's words.

     "Not if everyone does their job," Ward said, before turning back to Skye. "What is yours, exactly?" He asked, bluntly.

     Skye lowered her eyes, unable to answer. From across the cavern, Dougie spoke up.

     "Hey, you guys brought us along," he said. "Neither of us asked to be kidnapped by you. Skye's just doing what Coulson told her to do. Maybe you should take up the issues you have with him."

     Ward turned to him. "I have," he said, and Anne watched as Dougie stiffened. "What exactly is your job here?"

     Dougie fell silent, gaze dropping to the floor. Glancing between Skye and Dougie, seeing their slightly hurt looks, Anne gave a small sigh. Dammit.

     "Dougie can bake," Anne suggested helpfully, shooting Skye an apologetic smile. "I think Coulson wanted a baker on board."

     Ward didn't dignify that with a response. Rolling her eyes, Anne turned back to the 0-8-4 with a childlike fascination. Absentmindedly, she reached out her hand to poke it.

     "I — uh, nope, no, I wouldn't do that, no," Fitz called out, and Anne snatched her hand back. "I wouldn't touch it."

     "It's alive." Dougie nodded wisely, and Anne raised her eyebrows.

     "It has a functioning power source," Fitz explained.

     "Alive," insisted Dougie.

      Anne gave them a bewildered nod, glancing towards Skye for any kind of explanation. Skye simply shrugged. Still, perhaps best not to poke it, Anne decided.

              BOOM!

     An explosion blasted outside, its force rocking the ground. Anne flinched back at the sound, instinctively reaching for her gun and pushing Skye gently behind her. Dirt rained upon them, the temple shaking. For the first time, Anne questioned its stability. Honestly, it would be just her luck to get buried under a collapsed, ancient temple, her last words having been something about baking.

     What a way to go that would be...

     "Sounds like they're engaging with rebels," Ward said, on immediate alert. "Let's go!"

     Anne nodded, gun trained towards the exit, eyes darting between Skye, Dougie, and Fitz-Simmons. Her finger itched closer to the trigger, adrenaline pumping through her body.

     Ward turned back to them, frustration written all over his face.

     "They're coming for it - let's move!"

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Catching his drone from the air, Fitz hurried back to the case, dirt and dust still raining upon the team. Quickly, Skye tried to pack something away into its case, but her hands were batted away.

"No, no, no, no, no, no," Fitz argued, rearranging its position.

"It doesn't matter —" Skye tried to say, as Anne peered around the entrance of the temple, gun drawn, eyes wide.

"—It does to me!"

Simmons tidied the case as Skye backed away. "Please, let us do this," she snapped. She glanced up, between the rest of the team. "We need a containment case for the 0-8-4!"

Anne turned back to her, eyebrows furrowed as the insanity of the request settled upon her. "Simmons, there are rebels outside," she tried to explain. "There's no time for that!"

"But it has a fluctuating power core," Fitz said, standing, irritated. "Frequencies way above 10 exahertz —"

Another explosion rocked the ground around them. Fitz ducked, eyes wide. Anne stepped forwards protectively, shielding him from the exit. She couldn't do much about the explosions, but she could stop the bullets. Wordlessly, she checked he was okay.

"Sorry," said Ward, storming back to the device. "Science class is over."

Ignoring the flurry of frantic protests from Fitz, he yanked the device from the wall, the blue light growing brighter as it was freed. Grabbing a nearby bag, he roughly shoved it in, Fitz's panic-stricken cries still falling upon deaf ears.

"You did not just pull that out the wall!" Fitz exclaimed, hurrying over. "What is the matter with you? Do you realise we do not know the amount of photon emissions coming out of this —" Ward gave him a shove towards the door, thrusting the bag into his arms. "—We don't know what will happen if it gets excited!"

Ward ignored him. "Stay close," he ordered, eyes already back upon the entrance to the temple.

Anne waited for him to pass, keeping a close watch as everyone rushed back up the stairs. Fitz was the last to leave, giving a helpless glance towards the other agents as he hiked his bag higher on his back. Once he passed, spurred into action by Simmons' calls for him to hurry, Anne quickly followed, her gun drawn.

Heartbeat pounding in her ears, she scurried up the stairs. Outside, chaos reigned. Bullets ripped through the air, from the soldiers, the rebels, Ward. Eyes darting around, Anne pushed past Dougie, forcing him further back into the temple as she fought to provide some form of backup.

Across the clearing, she could make out the vague shapes of Coulson and Camilla. They'd flipped over a table, using it for cover as they continued firing at the rebels. Anne nodded to herself. They were okay.

A bullet hissed past Anne's ear, the heat of it scorching at her skin. She cursed. Dammit. Another injury to add to her rapidly growing collection.

Ignoring the pain, she yelled out to the rest of her team as the rain of bullets grew heavier. "Keep behind cover!" Fitz and Simmons scrambled backwards as Skye tugged Dougie by the sleeve after them. Sparing them a glance, Anne saw them all ducking back behind the entrance of the temple, sending worried glances between one another. Dougie's head emerged around the corner, searching for something. "Keep out the line of fire!"

Dougie's head ducked back behind the stone wall.

Ward reached into his jacket, pulling out a small, silver baton. "Get back!" He ordered, and for the first time, Anne did exactly as he said. Throwing herself back to the temple, she pushed Dougie and Skye back down lower, trusting Fitz and Simmons to know exactly what that device was. Automatically, the scientists dropped as low as they could, shielding each other's heads from the showers of dust, dirt, and rubble that the temple was still producing.

With a flick of Ward's wrist, the device — a Thunderstick, a name which Anne had always loved — lengthened to the size of a walking cane. The faded voice of Camilla ordered something in Spanish, her soldiers throwing themselves down to the earth at her command. Somersaulting into a crouch, Ward leapt down the stairs. He stabbed the spiked end of the device into the earth, securing it, and pressed the button.

As a small, explosive device fired upwards from the tip of the cane, he pressed himself against the ground. The device hovered for a moment, at around chest height, before blasting out a powerful sonic wave.

The rebels flew backwards. The blue shockwave blasted them off their feet, slamming them back into the trees and leaving them to crumple to the floor.

Ward yanked the Thunderstick out the ground, tossing the pole to the side as he gestured for everyone to exit the temple. Nodding, gun at the ready, eyes darting frantically around her, Anne offered her hand to Skye, helping her back up the stairs.

They ran forwards, as quickly as they could manage. Anne scanned the tree line. They needed a way out of here. Any way out of here.

Anne clocked the rebel before Ward did. The shockwave had missed him. He still stood, gun aimed directly at the scientists. Cursing, she dove forwards, shoving them all behind her, shielding them with her body. Ah, crap. What a way to go.

The screeching of tires and the screaming of bullets against metal stabbed through her mind. She turned her head, and despite her inward cringe at the awful noise, the relief that began to spread through Anne was unmatched. She fought it back. No. They weren't in the clear yet.

May kept the engine running, blocking the rebel's bullets with the SUV. Throwing open the passenger's side door, she yelled, "Move! Now!"

"Get in!" Ward ordered, pushing Fitz-Simmons, Dougie, and Skye towards the open door.

"Yes," Simmons nodded, a relieved smile lighting up her face. "Yes, of course, yes."

Fitz piled in the SUV after her. "Yeah, that's a good idea," Anne heard him say as he passed. She glanced around, cautiously checking her surroundings as she hurried backwards to the door. Glancing back, she performed a headcount.

Skye? Check, furthest seat in. Simmons? Right beside her, bags piled upon her lap. Fitz? Next to Simmons, cradling the 0-8-4. Dougie? Check, he was scrambling to find some space in the back, squeezing into a seat made for only three. Satisfied all four were present and accounted for, Anne gave Ward a curt nod.

They both gave a final visual sweep of their surroundings, checking for immediate threats, before diving into the SUV. Ward took the passengers seat, while Anne tried to shove herself into the back of the vehicle. She barely had time to fully crouch down into the floorboard before the SUV sped away.

See, this was exactly why she objected to everyone being out on the field. Well, not this exactly — she hadn't envisioned her morning ending with her being half shoved into the floor of an SUV, narrowly avoiding Dougie slamming her hand in the door as May span out off the encampment. But if everyone hadn't been here, she wouldn't be in this situation to start with, so her point still stood.

Through her limited area of vision, Anne watched as some rebels piled into a jeep, barrelling after them. She cursed again, awkwardly fumbling for her weapon. Bullets bounced off their SUV. Anne thanked whoever was listening that it was bulletproof.

"Coulson's secure in PMP's truck," Ward told May, glancing behind them. The SUV bounded through the rough dirt roads, jungle trees whizzing by until they became just a single blur of green. "Take the south route to the airfield."

"Gotcha," May responded.

The road was bumpy and unpaved, and each mound of unflattened earth sent everyone in the back lurching in all manners of uncomfortable directions. Barrelling over a ditch at full speed, Anne cursed aloud as she smacked her head against Ward's seat.

"Slow down!" Fitz protested, gripping the 0-8-4 like a vice.

"You're joking, right?" Skye responded, desperately trying to steady herself.

"Ward, listen!" Fitz's voice crackled with frustration and fear. "We have to be careful! There's a binding energy structure that could overheat!"

A binding energy structure that was dangerously close to Anne's head, she realised. She pressed herself as far back against the door as she could.

Simmons' face grew excited. "I could roll down a window!" She suggested, leaning over Dougie to reach the button.

Shots rang out, ricocheting off the SUV. Yelping, everyone ducked, screams and curses filling the vehicle.

"Do not roll down a window!" Skye shouted.

"Stay quiet and keep your heads down!" Ward glared at them. Well, Anne assumed he did. She couldn't see, seeing as she was wedged behind his seat and crouching uncomfortably upon the floorboard. Ward turned back to May. "Head left, the ravine empties."

May followed his directions, the rebels close on their tails. The sudden turn slammed Anne's head against the seat again. She bit her tongue, fist clenching.

"But, Ward —" Fitz exclaimed.

"Quiet!" May and Ward cut him off.

Dougie nudged Anne with his foot. "Can I have a gun?" He asked.

She shot him an incredulous glare. "Absolutely not." In what universe would she agree to that? Oh, sure, let's give the criminal a gun. What could possibly go wrong?

"You have two!" Dougie protested.

"They're mine!" Anne exclaimed. "And you're a criminal! I'm not so stupid that I'll give a criminal a gun. Now, will you —" she shoved at his legs, desperately trying to give herself some more space, "— move over, or I swear, I will put you in the trunk."

"If you give me one, I can help shoot those guys!"

"Or you could shoot us!"

Dougie paused. "What about one of those cool stick things?"

Oh my God. "Does anyone have any tape?" Anne asked.

"Be quiet!" May and Ward bellowed.

Tape would help with that, Anne thought, but she didn't say it.

"How fast can you get the wheels up?" Ward asked. Anne's grip on her gun tightened, realising they were approaching the Bus. Adrenaline pulsed through her veins. She took a breath. She needed to make sure she was thinking clearly.

"Fast," May responded. The SUV took a quick upwards turn, and Anne, on instinct, reached back for the door handle. May turned back to yell an order at Ward as the car lurched to a stop. "Ramp!"

"On it," he said, leaping out the vehicle.

Anne pushed her door open, scrambling to get out. Defensively, she stood between the other agents and the outside world, gun trained outside the Bus as they all crouched and ran from the SUV.

"What are you doing?" She heard Skye yell. "Coulson's still out there!"

Coulson's name drew Anne's attention. She spared a quick glance behind her. Ward stood by the Bus' manual controls, pushing and flipping the switches and buttons, and she knew he was closing the ramp.

"Get off the ramp," Ward said to Skye, pushing her back. "You're in the line of fire!"

Eyes fixed back upon the outside, Anne swallowed as she saw the rebels approach. Deep breath and shoot.

Her finger tightened around the trigger as Coulson's SUV sped to a stop. Soldiers filed out, providing cover for Coulson and Camilla as they hurried to the slowly closing ramp. She darted forwards, using the SUV she'd just left as a shield as she nodded towards the remaining soldiers, waving them frantically in. Deep breath and shoot.

She locked eyes with one of the rebels. He raised his gun, and her heart plummeted. She took a deep breath. She shot.

The first bullet missed. It flew right past him, barely even nicking at his skin. Another deep breath. Another squeeze on the trigger. Another missed target.

The third shot hit him square in the chest. He crumpled, his shirt doing little to protect against the bullet as it ripped through his skin. Crimson flooded from his wound, and Anne adverted her eyes. A small part of her, a part she shoved down, hoped he'd be okay. It was a desperate, despondent hope, but she had it. Maybe he'd survive that. Maybe he'd be okay.

Bullets ricocheted around her, the rebels returning her fire tenfold. She took another breath, focusing only on the feel of the gun in her hand. There would be time for... for whatever this feeling could be called later. Right now, she had a task to do. She had people to protect.

She fired her gun again, hitting a rebel in the shoulder. His screams filled the air, and Anne felt them grasp at her throat. They throttled her. Trying to bat them away, she shook her head. No.

Soldiers hurried past her. She let them go, eyes fixed outwards. The rebels drew closer. Red hot bullets scorched the air, barely missing Anne as she shoved herself back against the cover of the SUV. She could feel the heat as they flew past her skin, past her cheeks and her arms.

Hearing the clunk and hiss of the completely closed ramp, and the concerningly comforting sound of bullets clinking into the thick metal, Anne allowed herself to exhale. After allowing it a moment to cool - and to allow herself to regain her composure - she thrust her gun back into its holster. Giving a thankful nod to a nearby soldier as they stepped back to allow her to pass, she scurried back to her team, clenching and unclenching her fist as she went.

The four non-combat trained members of the team huddled together in the corner, bags strewn around them, arms shielding one another's heads, panting from fright. Anne offered Skye her hand, pulling her back to her feet.

"Cutting it pretty close, sir," Ward said, as Coulson walked past him, towards the 0-8-4.

"Didn't want to leave anyone behind," he replied.

"I gotta say," Skye said, smoothing out shirt and brushing her hair out her face. "I miss my van."

Anne gave her a comforting smile.

Her hands were still trembling - she hoped it was solely due to the adrenaline leaving her body. Extending her hand down to Simmons, she helped her to her feet too.

"Now," Ward said, staring at Fitz. "What was the problem?"

"As I said before," Fitz said, sweat sheening his face, breaths desperate and heaving. "This device has a high-frequency, fluctuating, sub-material compression —"

Ward stopped him. "Fitz, in English."

"The 0-8-4 is fuelled by Tesseract technology," Fitz tried to explain, as Ward and Anne nodded along. "Hydra. World War II. Captain America."

Behind him, Dougie slowly rose to his feet, backing away from the device lying in the middle of the cargo bay, only the fabric of its bag to protect them from whatever it was.

"It's full of lethal amounts of gamma radiation." Fitz concluded.

"Gamma," Ward said through an arched eyebrow. "You're saying it's nuclear?"

"No," Coulson said. Anne glanced back towards him, but he never took his eyes off the device. "He's saying it's much, much worse."

Almost in unison, everyone glanced down at the bag. A moment passed. A painful, pounding heartbeat. Then, instinctively, everyone took a large step backwards, eying the device warily.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

a/n: this is 11365 words long and i make no apologies, i am simply born to ramble im afraid. anyway i hope you enjoyed this, be sure to vote and comment, and i'll see you soon!

(i unfortunately had to publish this chapter RIGHT NOW bc otherwise i would give in to the little gremlin that controls my hands sometimes and then i would publish my alternate universe anne and frankly we do not need that right now. and by we i mean me. i do not need that stress.)

see you soon!!!!! <3