And way down we go
There were two sets of ragged breath on the other side of the door.
Hunter almost turned back – and ultimately, stepped through the door for Jemma, rather than May.
The scientist turned Doctor was a shuddering mass of jarring contradictions. She seemed to shake from head to toe, every inch of her trembled, except her hands. She was tying off a stitch on her unconscious friends abdomen as Lance let the door click shut behind him.
‘I need fresh bandages – they’re in the cart on the right’.
Hunter retrieved the supplies silently, giving the young doctor a moment to hastily rub at her eyes.
‘Has she woken since….?’ Hunter let the sentence trail off, not knowing how much of her recent trauma his former colleague had consciously endured.
Hunter had been deliberately averting his gaze since he had entered the room, but turned to lock eyes with a teary eyed Jemma when he was met with only silence, her voice wavered precariously when she finally responded;
‘She’s been in and out – but I don’t know how much of her is left in there.’
Hunter had picked through the remnant of the destroyed nursery as Bobbi began her clean up, he tried not to think about how much of herself the former specialist had left in that room.
‘You got her home, Jem, we’ll figure out the rest’.
‘Where’s Bobbi?’ He was almost grateful that she hadn’t acknowledged the empty platitude.
‘She went with Coulson – ‘
The unmistakable ring of gunshots saved him any further investigation. Jemma’s eyes flew to the door, and he vaguely remembered that Fitz had been close at Coulson’s heels as he had raced towards the holding cells.
‘Go – I know how to hang a drip’.
The room seemed so much smaller now that it was just him and May, alone. A surprisingly firm grip stilled his hand as he tried to reattach the tubing to the disconnected port in the bend of her arm.
‘The hard drive….in the dresser….’
Hunter pressed the hard drive into her icy palm, a silent confirmation of her rasping enquiry. With her prize held safely in her hand, she slackened beneath him, but her stare threatened to burn through him as he busied himself once more with the IV – he may have slightly (or mostly) exaggerated his familiarity with the process.
‘I didn’t look – and Bob’s didn’t ask – ‘
‘Thank you’.
Her eyes were already slipping shut, saving Hunter from conjuring a hurried apologies as he pulled his weapon from beneath his jacket, racing out of the lab and towards the piercing echo of further gunshots.