Chapter Forty-Nine

Once we got back upstairs, Skye was in charge of pairing people off and giving them their assignments. I really hoped I'd be paired with Grant.

I headed towards the conference room, ready for assignment, but Phil intercepted me.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Going to get my assignment."

"Simmons said you're not cleared for field duty yet."

"What? No! I can't stay behind on another mission!"

"I'm sorry, Samantha, but that's doctor's orders. Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be cleared soon."

"Ugh!" I yelled dramatically, throwing my head back to look at the ceiling and stomping back towards the dorms. I wasn't looking where I was going, so I ran straight into Grant.

"Woah! Slater, what's wrong?"

"I'm benched from this mission too!"

"Well yeah, you're barely allowed to run."

"Grant! That's not what you're supposed to say! You're supposed to be on my side and help me change Simmons's mind!"

"Sorry Slater, but I'm with her. I don't want you getting hurt."

I narrowed my eyes at Grant. "As soon as I'm cleared, I'm punching you in the arm. Hard."

"I'll look forward to it," he said sarcastically, before going to see Skye for his assignment. I started back to my room to pout, then thought better of it. I was going to get an exact count from Simmons on how much longer I was going to be benched.

"Simmons!" I called, coming down into the lab.

"Hello Samantha," she said, hardly looking up from her work.

"I need you to run tests on me again!"

"Why?" she asked, her head snapping up. "Is something wrong?"

"No, but I want an exact time I have to wait before I can go on field missions again."

Simmons rolled her eyes. "Samantha, are you serious?"

"Yes! This is the second time I've been on the sideline and I really don't want there to be a third. Please Jemma."

"Fine! Sit down and roll up your sleeve."

"You're a saint," I said, giving her a hug before sitting. She gave me a full exam, and I was still sitting in the lab when the teams came back. Agent Blake had been seriously hurt, and I felt guilty, but I was secretly thanking God that it wasn't Grant.

Simmons was given orders to stay at the Hub to help with Deathlock, which was a huge step for her. It also meant she wouldn't be around to force me to stay on the plane, so I was already planning how to sneak back into the field if Simmons didn't clear me.

"Alright Samantha," she said, coming back into the room, "I checked all of your vitals and how you've been healing, but I'm sorry, you're not quite ready for the field yet."

"Simmons!"

"Hear me out! I know you want to get back to work immediately, and I think you're almost there, but if you over do it, you will be stuck in a hospital bed for even longer. Please, just take another week to slowly get back on your feet, and then you can go back to normal field duty."

I sighed, trying to stay calm. "Simmons, are you sure? I hate being on the sidelines. I hate not being able to help my team. We're finally closing in on the clairvoyant, and I want to be able to do more than sit on the Bus."

"Samantha, I know. But if you can find a way to have just a little more patience, you'll be much more useful to the whole team in the future."

"You're right, and I know you're right, but I hate that you're right," I said, putting my head in my hands. I was getting so frustrated.

"I'm sorry," said Simmons giving me a hug.

"It's not your fault." I took a deep breath. "I better get out of your hair now, you've gotta get ready for the Hub. I'll see you soon."

"See you soon Samantha."

I walked back up the stairs, trying to keep it together until I got to my bedroom. I didn't want my whole team to see me lose it, but I was barely holding it together. Weeks of frustration with the realization that Simmons was right was killing me. I hated feeling helpless.

I closed the door to my room and tried to decide whether to cry or attack my pillow. Eventually, I decided on both. First I attacked my pillow, then I buried my face in it and screamed.

"Samantha?" I heard someone ask outside my door. It sounded like Grant.

"Go away," I said, not even bothering to lift my face out of my pillow.

"Samantha, open the door."

I didn't answer.

Grant sighed. "Fine."

I heard him leave, but a few minutes later he was back, dropping down over the divider from his room to mine.

"Are you okay?" he asked, lying next to me.

"Ugh, yeah, I will be," I said, moving over so that my face was buried in his chest instead of my pillow.

"What's wrong?"

"Simmons says I have to sit here like an invalid for another week, slowly getting back on my feet, before I can be of use to anyone I care about in the field."

"Oh, Slater. I'm sorry. At least you've only got a week left."

"Yeah, great. I bet I'll only miss twenty missions instead of fifty."

"Can you start fight training again?"

"Yeah, probably like tomorrow."

"Well then, we'll start training first thing tomorrow morning, okay?"

I gave a long, dramatic sigh. "I guess. Make sure you don't die in the next week before I get back in the field though."

"Don't worry Slater. The action will wait. I'm sure the next week will be one of the most boring of our careers."

"I hope you're right. But aren't you literally leaving on a mission in, like, two minutes?"

"I don't know about two minutes, but yes, we're heading out after the clairvoyant soon. You're coming too, though."

"Yeah, in the back of a van. That's not the field." I twisted a little so I could look at Grant. "I need you to be careful, okay?"

"Slater, I'm always careful."

"No! Grant, I mean it. I have to sit in the back of a van where I'm too far away to help but I can still see everything that's happening. I don't want to have to watch something happen to you."

Grant took a deep breath, then pulled me closer to him. "Don't worry Slater. You won't."

After another minute, we both got up. It was time to go find Thomas Nash.

****************

Skye and I were confined to the back of the van outside the building, watching everything on cameras while everyone else, including Fitz, went into the building. Needless to say, I was a little stressed.

Skye was connecting us to the retrievers (Fitz's tech), and I couldn't stop twitching in my seat.

"Samantha. Calm down," said Skye, not looking up. I was bouncing my leg up and down and up and down.

"Sorry." I tried to hold still.

"Skye, Samantha, you online?" asked Phil, coming over the comms.

"Hang on..." Skye typed for few more seconds, and then a display of the retrievers came up on our screen. "Northwest corridor is getting something. I'm pulling up a live feed."

The camera zoomed through the halls in thermal mode, showing a heat signature that was likely Mike Peterson.

"I can't confirm it's him," continued Skye. "Initiating backscatter."

She clicked another key and the camera switched modes, and my mouth dropped open. It was Mike Peterson alright, but he looked like a monster out of terminator with half his face made of metal and a red bionic eye.

"Holy crap..." I muttered.

"What the hell did they do to him?" Skye sounded heartbroken and disgusted.

"What are you seeing?" asked Phil, bringing us back to the mission at hand.

"It's not just his leg or his eye," started Skye. "They did stuff to him. It's all under his skin."

"Coulson, he looks like the terminator. He's got metal and bionic implants covering half his body or more," I added.

Before we could continue, Mike saw our camera and smacked it out of the air. He was able to destroy it with a casual backhand, and now we were down a retriever.

I ran my hands through my hair. Fitz was coming back to the van, but Grant was going in. He was leading a strike team, and I was nowhere near close enough to be able to help if something happened.

I held my breath as I listened intently to the comms, waiting for something to happen. It was dead silent until, to my horror, I heard Grant's voice.

"Contact! Take cover!" he yelled, and I heard an explosion followed by gunfire.

I didn't want to distract him, so I didn't say anything over the comms, but I grabbed Skye's arm in a vice grip trying to keep from yelling. Once the gunshots stopped, I was first over the comms.

"Grant! Are you okay?"

"I'm alright, but I got two men down. We need a med team!"

"Requesting one now. May, he's coming your way," Skye replied as I took a deep breath. That was way too close. If this kept up, I'd have a heart attack and Skye would have permanent claw marks in her arm.

Phil was in the sub basement now,  without any support but Garrett and a retriever, which was now picking up another life form besides Mike Peterson. I was practically tearing my hair out I was so stressed. I was not cut out for this backend work.

The man was Thomas Nash, the person we'd been tracking down this whole time. The Clairvoyant.

Nash was talking through some kind of robotic speech program, reaching max creepiness. He started talking about me and Skye, and everyone else was watching Nash, but I was watching Grant. He tensed the minute Nash said my name.

Nash got under Phil's skin, which was his goal. Phil threatened him, but Nash turned it around to threaten me and Skye.

I could seen Grant's heart monitor spiking, so I stood up and stepped away from Fitz and Skye, turning the comms to a private channel so that he could hear me, but no one else could.

"Grant." I saw him glance at the retriever, and I knew he heard me. "Don't listen to this psycho. I'm fine, nothing is going to change that. Take a breath."

I glanced back at the monitor and saw the vein in Grant's forehead was still popping out, so I kept talking.

"Hey. Focus on me. Focus on my voice. Breathe in. Breathe out. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere, okay? It's all good. Feel your blood pressure dropping. Let the vein in your forehead relax."

I heard Grant snort, and I knew he was feeling better. He was shaking his head, and he still looked stressed, but his heart rate was dropping back to normal. After another minute, Coulson had found a way to turn off Nash's speech program, and the rest of the strike force was moving in and taking him into custody.

I turned off the private comm and left the van, walking towards the building to meet Grant as he came out.

"Samantha!" he called, jogging out to me.

"Grant!" I broke into a full sprint and jumped on Grant, tackling him in a bear hug.

"Geeze Slater," he laughed, shaking his head. We were face to face on the pavement, and I was ignoring the looks the other agents were giving us.

"Thank God you're okay. I was so worried! What the hell happened to 'the action will wait'?"

"Guess I'm not right about everything," he said, standing and pulling me up with him. "Just most things."

"Ha. I'm glad you're back safe."

"Me too." He threw one arm around my shoulders as we walked and he didn't leave my side until we were back on the Bus.