Skye and Ward: On A Mission (SkyeWard)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Head pounding. Check.

Can't move body Check.

Hearing a random beeping sound close by. Double check.

I squinted my eyes open, unable to see anything but fluorescent lights. A door slid open near by, air hissing through the entrance. Something leaned over me, blocking the light. I kept my eyes open, trying hard to see something. Anything.
An outline of a hazmat suit appeared, the person inside blocked by black. They reached towards my face, placed something dark over my eyes. A moment later, I could see everything clearly.

Above me was a mirror, shining down was my reflection. My hair fanned out around me, cut short with bangs lying on my face. Face was very pale, unbelievably white. A white hospital gown was tucked in underneath my blankets. I couldn't move, literally; my body must've been drugged or poisoned or something secret spy-ish.

A dark figure loomed over me. I screamed silently, unable to open my mouth, widen my eyes, or even flinch. I took a deep breathe in my nose though, which I immediately regretted when it made me dizzy. How long was I even here? What happened?

"Hello Skye."

I looked up into the dar figure, a deep green hazmat suit with a thick huge helmet on. Like an astronaut, except there weren't any NASA logos on it. Upon an even deeper concentration level which hurt my head, I saw a face through the tinted glass. Short dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, sharp facial features, a fake smile that hide something else behind it. Ward?

I was with Ward, on the Bus, when it... did we crash? If so...where did we end up?

I tried to open my mouth to ask him, but nothing I asked my body to do worked. I hated this trapped feeling, feeling weak, broken, useless. Ward leaned over, and as I followed him with the painful and limited movements of my eyes, he lifted up a tube attached to an IV. That was attached to me. He pulled out a needle from his pocket, uncapping it with his mouth, before injecting the foreign liquid into the IV bag. I looked up at him again, but he was wearing a sad smile now.

Another man walked up in an identical hazmat suit on the other side of me. He looked over at the IV bag. pulled a clipboard off from the bottom of my bed. He pulled a pen from the top, writing some notes on a sheet. He looked down at me, moving my hair with the end of his pen.

"Roll her head over," he ordered Ward. He gently pulled my head to one side, exposing the doctor to my neck. Swiping the hair away as if he had done it a million times before. The other man jotted some more notes down as I practically died in my head. What was he writing? What was on my neck?

He nodded to Ward and walked away, replacing the pen and the clipboard before disappearing from my sight. Ward laid my head back down, readjusting my hair. Unfortunately, my head fell the other way and I saw the bed next to me. Fitz was laying back as well, his eyes shut and an IV stuck in his arm. Simmons was on his other side, in the same positions. I finally felt my eyes widen, another gasp being released from me.

Ward moved my head back quickly, trying to block what I saw. He wasn't even smiling anymore. A steely cold look was plastered on now, revealing no emotions. Just the way the government liked it.

The man walked back, this time I could see what his suit said on the side. I gasped, opening my mouth just a tiny bit and letting more air in. Ward turned away from me to face the man. He raised his hand above his forehead, almost in a wave salute. I felt my mouth close back up, breathing slow down, the beeping on the machine slowing as well. My eyelids grew heavy, making their way closed again. I could still hear though, no way of shutting down that. I saw Ward open his mouth, and his next words chilled me to the bone.

"Hail Hydra."