Regrets
An Agents of SHIELD fanfic by Aisling Yinyr Ngaio

He was her S.O., and yet he could do nothing for her.

Coulson had his lofty connections, unresponsive though they were. May had been the avenging fury, inflicting the punishment he so sorely deserved on the perpetrator. Fitzsimmons had the intelligence to decipher scientific jargon that could help in finding the cure for their fallen teammate.

He had nothing. Could do nothing but wait for whatever he was called upon to do.

How could he ever face her if she died on his watch?

He longed to stand vigil over her, willing her to awaken, but knew that all his patience and faith wouldn't help her anyway, not in her current deteriorating condition. In any case, she hadn't been left alone for a moment since her pod had been installed on the Bus. Fitzsimmons were nearly immovable from there when they had no need of their lab equipment, and Coulson…

His jaw tightened subconsciously. He didn't want to think about it.

Didn't want to recall Quinn's mocking "when she means so much to you" being directed at Coulson. Didn't want to think about how the older agent had been there almost every time he'd gone down to find his little trainee, standing outside her pod resolutely, as if she was his world and that he'd fall apart if she didn't make it. The same way he himself had fallen apart in that waiting room in Zurich, trying to understand the hopelessness of Skye's recovery chances.

He'd be lying if he'd said it wasn't a pleasure to see his former S.O. again, but the reunion only served as a constant reminder that he should've been more careful with his trainee. Should've paid more attention to the alarm bells ringing in his head at her inclusion in a field op, non-combat though it was supposed to have been. Should've been more insistent in having the final say over his team leader in including his rookie on what had clearly become a personal mission to the other man.

Should've taken med tech training the way Trip had.

It was a herculean effort to put all these regrets behind him as he suited up to infiltrate the Guest House, loading his long disused machine gun, leaving the Night Night Pistols to Fitz. He was shooting to kill - would shoot to kill - if that was what it took to save her. He might not have been comfortable to kill without overwhelming reason before this, but he was not taking any more chances, not this time.

As he raced out of the bunker hot on Fitz's heels, grateful for Garrett's order, he was - for the first time in twenty four hours - hopeful of Skye's recovery. Hopeful that he wouldn't have lost her so soon. He didn't even stop to wait for his superiors or remove his tactical gear as he crowded into Skye's medical pod, praying that the mission had been worth it. Praying that he'd done enough.

So why did Coulson change his mind about giving her the drug? What did he see?

Worry began to crease his brow even as Skye's heart rate stabilised after an inexplicable spiking, a terrifying reaction to the drug administered that sent him into a panic as well. On hearing Garrett's reply to May however, he was suddenly more afraid than before for his trainee. What was the secret that even May couldn't know?

He looked at Skye through the glass window, with her now off intubation and reduced to one oxygen line. He looked at Coulson, sitting next to her with a look of deep regret and conflict as the older agent watched his young teammate, still unconscious, still recovering. Ward clenched his teeth, swallowing the many questions he wanted answers to, and silently left the pair.

- Finis -