It's Not Over Yet

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When my eyes finally fluttered open, it was like waking up from a bad dream. You are suddenly conscious of the control you have over your body and are ripped from the separate reality your mind has created.

The first thing I could see was a white ceiling. I inhaled slowly and groaned at the massive pounding in my skull. I go through a blackout and that headache still stays. I lifted my chin slightly to look around. I was lying in a hospital bed in the medical cubicle inside the bus. Beside me were the normal monitors with a steady heart rate beeping loudly. I felt a pinch at my arm as I shifted it. An IV needle was taped into my skin and a pulse monitor was clamped on my finger. I has never had one of those before. Ow. They hurt. I imagine they'd hurt worse for Peter since he's had so many...

I leaned back in the bed, my face one of despair. Oh god. He's gone. He's really gone. What have I done? Where did they take him? Better question, how did they sneak him out?

A million questions raced through my mind as to how all of this happened. And what was going to happen. I had told him what they would probably have done to him if he was captured. For once in my life I hoped to God I was wrong.

A soft knock sounded at the door way. I looked up to see Simmons in her lab coat.

"Rise and shine?" She said quietly.

I propped myself up on my elbows and sat up, grimacing.

"Unfortunately," I said quietly.

She came to sit at the chair beside the monitors. "Feeling better?" She asked.

I rubbed my forehead. "Still have a headache."

"Well that's nothing we can't fix," she replied.

I stared at her for a few moments in silence. She seemed uncomfortable.

"Is this the part where I ask you what happened?" I finally said.

Simmons diverted her gaze and sighed. "Lucy.... I don't exactly know where to start."

"Well...how long have I been asleep?"

"About half a day. We were thinking of first bringing you to the medical station in the facility, but the systems on the Bus were better equipped to care for you," she said. She looked at me. I could tell she was hiding something.

"And...?"

"We ran some...tests...while you were asleep, like a CT, and a frontal cortex, a internal masses and hemorrhages, things of that sort." She paused.

I raised my eyebrows. "And? Simmons, what aren't you telling me."

"The CT scan we did on you showed that your approximate brain capacity was 20%. The average is 15%. However, the current one we ran showed some...surprising results," she said hesitantly.

"Simmons!," I protested.

"Alright, alright," she raised her hands in defense. She looked me straight in the eyes. "Your approximate brain capacity is 38%. It's almost doubled since you've been here. That's not surprising...it's frightening. We're in uncharted waters to your condition here; we don't know what we're dealing with. No person your age in recorded history has ever showed this much brain activity. We think it might even have detrimental effects over time."

"And?," I replied. "We can deal with effects over time when they show up! What we need to focus on now is why I felt every detail of Dr. Snow's consciousness right as she died."

Simmons nodded. "Fitz hypothesized that's what had happened. We believe that just as your brain capacity is increasing, your abilities may be as well. Since you have been experiencing mood swings..."

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