1964-01-08 - The Howling Commandos?
Summary: Skye finally faces Coulson and discusses what happened and may happen to her. He gets a surprise in the form of a picture, time to bring in The Wolverine!
Related: None
Theme Song: None
skye coulson 

Phil Coulson is seated in Peggy's nice leather chair, with a slew of reports spread out before him. There's also a mug of coffee, a glass of water, and a bottle of Aspirin. A fire slowly burns in the fireplace, and a record player is playing the smooth sounds of Elvis Presley.

Two of those files happen to be reports filed by Daisy Johnson; one on Brian Braddock, the other on a fellow called 'The Wolverine'.


It was now or never. There's only so much she could do to Lola that Coulson didn't approve of, aside from her lording over manuals and ways she could fit in an ejector seat, since she did at least hear that from the grapevine. Hell, it's been weeks since she's arrived from the cocoon, and she was sure she was going to have to talk about it sooner or later. Not to mention new revelations that needed to be discussed and permissions to be had.

With that said, she knocks upon the door to Peggy's office, the handle turning and her slowly peeking through the crack that forms as she leans against the wood. "Director Coulson? Do you have a minute?"



Coulson looks up from the report on Wolverine, eyeing Skye for a moment or two before closing that particular file. "Interesting choice of words. Fortunately, I'm not in the habit of having good agents 'shitcanned', even if they've developed a habit of avoiding uncomfortable conversations."

The acting Director stands up and motions toward the sitting area over by the fireplace. "I'm glad you came, Skye. I really didn't want to put you on latrines. It's an ugly job that we pay a janitor for."


Skye jerks a little bit, a slight redness attending her cheeks, her nose wrinkling a little bit to hold back a laugh that was about to come out. She pushes the door open, and with a foot she kicks it closed, not a hard kick but one that nudges it until she hears the loud click. "Sorry." Is all she could say, standing by the door until she's directed towards a seat, which she walks towards like a child ready to be scolded.

"In my defense. There's a lot going on, so I figured this talk could -really- wait. Unless you think I'm one of those things, in which I assure you I'm not. Though, that's particularly what one of those things would say."

She flops down, then lets out a huff of breath. "You'd think with all these people, put together and all, they'd learn to keep the shit in the pot and not out of it." She snorts a little, then handwaves. "Excuse my language."


Leaving everything else on the desk, Coulson only brings the mug of coffee along when he moves to join Daisy at the seating area.

The language doesn't bother him, so it goes disregarded. "Sure," he agrees. "We're all busy, but when I've got a junior agent who damn near caused the San Andreas to manifest like an angry monster under Governor's Island, I've got a right to worry." He gestures toward Daisy. "So, go on. Spill it."

Coulson rests the mug of coffee on the table between them, before folding his hands into his lap and looking on expectantly.


Embarrassed. No. Shame. That was the look that she had given the floor and not Coulson directly. It took a lot to keep that emotion from spilling over, for the entire facility to shake. For Wing Sing's lovely dimsum to not spill over and burn an unfortunate worker. He asks her to spill, but she doesn't speak for a time, only shifting to plant both feet upon the floor, knees apart so that elbows can hang off of them. Her fingers even wrestle with another, as she figures out where to begin.

"They call it Terrigenesis." Good start! "I guess it's a thing for those people, where some people are selectively chosen to undergo some rebirth process to emerge with.. new powers." She gestures at herself. "Did you know that there's a dog? A huge dog. A teleporting dog." She continues to stare at the floor, her lips curling. "Maybe it was a person once, I don't know, maybe it didn't even go through that process. But, it's a thing for them, like some weird religion."

She takes in a breath. "So .. when we were sent to help, me and Fitz. I think I got hit by something that caused it to happen. I think the last I remember is not being able to breathe, and then I wake up somewhere across the world out of a goddamned cocoon, in front of a man who can't talk or else he'll destroy the world. And he tells me that I'm lucky. And that I'm unlucky. And that this has never happened before and I needed to stay there or I'll lose control. Kill everyone. Something." Her hand waves idly, then soon joins with the other. "That's all I got."


Had it not been for having access to Peggy Carter's files, Coulson may have had trouble putting it all together. However, he knew that Skye had been sent to the place called Attilan, home of these Inhumans, so he's able to piece that part together. Regardless, as soon as he has some honesty in hand, his stern attitude drops in favor of one far more empathetic.

"Well." Phil leans back, studying Daisy curiously. "That's… not exactly what I expected. I'm probably correct in assuming that this wasn't supposed to happen to you." He leans forward to pick up the mug, holding it in his hand for a moment. "So, clearly you didn't stay. Did they… help you, in some way? And what sort of risks might there be with all of this? Aside from the obvious."


Daisy shakes her head completely. "I mean, who wakes up one day and says.. 'Hey! I think I better get gassed so I can burst out of a cocoon and become a monster..'." She holds up her hand in his direction, halting what words would come from that. "I know I'm not, but still." She leans back then, her hands pressing against her cheek as she gives a slight wrinkle of her brow. "No. I left."

"The obvious is what's.. the risk. The reveal of them to the public even further is the other risk. So much that.. that guy who doesn't speak? The real 'King' of that place? Tracked me down here. He has business in New York. But when it's time to go, I have to leave with him just to keep everyone safe."


Coulson drinks from his mug of coffee, and damn near snarfs it when Skye refers to herself as a monster. "You're n-"

He stops, and allows her to carry on. That last bit seems to deflate him somewhat, and he sets the mug back down. "So, we have a monarchal society that's somehow managed to live in utter isolation, with no recognized diplomatic ties to the world at large. NATO, the UN, nothing. And they're expecting us to extradite an American Citizen without any further explanation?" he asks, seeking clarity. "Because, that's what this sounds like. While I'm given to trust that these people have nothing but good intentions, it isn't… quite… the best play they could make, if they're intent on entering the international community."


"Who's to say I'm American, Coulson?" She asks quietly. "I don't even know who my real parents are. The names I have were probably made up by someone who found me on the street, the only thing I have is Skye, as of now." She smiles a little. "I don't know what political stances that they have or currently wish for. But he thinks, and I think.. and you've seen that I'm a clear danger to society. I literally have to walk around biting my cheek or think about birds flying or the way the river flows so that I don't open up a hole into the earth and drown New York into the fiery depths of hell due to some seismic reaction that I'd have because my burger came out wrong." She shakes her head, "Either way, I don't think they want to join us. He seems to want to be left alone, this guy."


"Fair enough," Coulson answers. "Either way, you're a person. You can't just be taken away against your will. Beyond that, you're a member of SHIELD, which means that such a leave of absence, or assignment, however we choose to define it, is something I'll need to sign off on."

Coulson leans forward again, this time resting his hands upon his knees. "Have you discussed this new development with FitzSimmons?"


"You really can't sign off on it especially when I don't know when it'll happen." Skye points out. "I mean, I never really.. well.." She thinks. "..I don't even think I was allowed to leave when I was trapped inside that thing for.. however long that was. But this is something that SHIELD can't even stop and I'm sort of resigned to my fate to live like a goddamned monk near the Appalachian mountains."

She takes on a slump, her elbow struck out as she rests it upon the armrest there, her fingers smoothing through her hair as she stares off towards the door. "No. I'm.. no. Just no." Hell, it took her this long to talk to Phil. FitzSimmons? Easy avoidance!


"Like hell we can't."

Coulson shakes his head and stands up, mug of coffee in hand. He walks back to his desk, clearing the files and pulling out a piece of letterhead. A directive. A pen clicks, and he begins scrawling upon the directive.

"I'm issuing a directive to have you evaluated by Agent Simmons in biochem. We need to understand what you can do, and what the dangers are."

He signs his name, then rips free a blue and yellow carbon. One of them is taken back over to Johnson; a copy of the directive.

"I understand that this all may seem a bit… heavy handed," he offers, with that unnervingly patient voice of his. "But you're one of my best agents, Skye. Frankly, this is the only thing preventing me from making you a full agent. You've done more for this organization in the past few weeks than some of our seasoned agents." He smiles earnestly. "You'll want to remember that every time you're forced to have one of these… uncomfortable conversations."


Skye's brows shoot up as she watches him stand, shifting herself upon the couch as she gives a shake of her head. Perhaps it was a poor choice of words because of Peggy, which has her shaking her head again as her hand smacks hard against her head. "I.. come on!" She nearly protests, shooting up as she holds her hands out, waving them slightly. "Look! Really. I'm alright! I don't need to see them and I really ain't up to being poked and prodded. Why can't they just take the blood tha.. Coulson.."

As he hands over the yellow copy of the directive, she looks towards it with a frown, the coffee cup that was discarded beginning it's first vestiges of the shakes, the table soon rattling and everything else awakening due to that minor upset. She has to inhale, the paper not flung down but clutched with her hand and brought down to her side.

"Fine.." She says quietly.. the soft rumbling stops as soon as it starts, her hand striking out as fingers begin to wiggle. "So it's like that? You're not even gonna give me the rest of the copies for filing?"


Coulson stops when the room begins to shake. He looks around himself, worried at first, but within time, he begins to grin. Eyes settle back upon Skye, and he shakes his head. "Junior agents file other people's reports for them," he tells her. It isn't exactly a promotion, just a taste of what's in store. "If FitzSimmons are able to help you, then they'll help you. We have no idea just what kind of potential you have. Look at it this way, Skye… you've been given something. Wouldn't you like to understand it better?"

That being said, he returns to the sitting area and reclaims both his seat and the mug of coffee. "Now, what else is on your mind?" He gestures, considering the matter of her abilities closed. "This… Wolverine character. He wants to be a part of SHIELD? Any idea why?"


What? Was that a promotion? Skye drops her hand, trying her best to fight the grin that draws upon her face. She moves towards the desk as well, plopping down upon the chair that sits in front of it. "Fine. Yes. I do." She blows out a breath, causing her lips to flap in the process. "I guess I'll schedule an appointment." But with that said? The matter was dropped, because thank god!

"Right. The Wolverine." She leans to the side to reach into her back pocket, pulling out a stolen picture from the Carter-Sousa residence. Once she places it upon the desk, Coulson would see an old photo of Peggy, Fury, Wolverine and a few others all in a row. "He wants to find her. It looks like they did some time together with.. the Howling Commandos?" She shrugs her shoulder faintly. "Plus there were recent reports with him in it. There's also the fact that he actually has enhanced hearing and scent sense. He picked out that I had a gun on me and I wasn't even that close to him." Alright, so she lied about that part.

"But I think past encounters with him and Peggy could give us a leg up on this thing. Stick him and Alexander together with Bobbi and FitzSimmons and General Danvers? Heck, even Mr. Braddock. Throw Mr. Banner in there. I figure we got a force to be reckoned with and we'll get her and the baby back home in time for Valentines Day."


Diverted by the photograph, Coulson picks up the photograph and he actually goes slackjawed. "Well, I'll be damned," he whispers, then looks up to Skye. "As in, the Howling Commandos?" He smirks and gestures toward Skye with the photograph in hand. "You should know your SHIELD history, Skye."

Replacing the photograph on Carter's desk, he draws in a long and deep breath. This development seems to be bringing ease into a general aire of agitation.

"Alright, bring him in," he tells her. "Won't take me much convincing. As far as I'm concerned, these doors are open to anyone who served with the Howling Commandos." A pause. "But… we might be smart to keep Doctor Banner on the whole… gamma radiation thing."

Coulson wants Carter back, but… not at the expense of a Hulk-fueled rampage.


"Uh huh.." Skye draws out, a nod of her head given. That stung though, her nose wrinkling faintly as she gestures towards the desk. "I mean, all the crap is on my desk but hello! Fury stranded me! I wasn't going to read about SHIELD while dodging mortar fire.." What the hell happened then?

But she straightens up, immediately rising from the chair as she gives up a slight sort of smile. "Well, that's wise. Either way. I need to put in a supply request. A couple of balaclavas, it's damn cold outside." She lifts her hand to lightly thump against her chest as she heads for the door, the yellow paper folded up and stuffed into her back pocket. "I'll try to track the guy down again. Chances are he's probably at the same bar, but.." She grunts faintly. "..guess I'll just.. you know.. kick out with one of those busted SUV's and take it apart for examination.. radiation should be down by now." She was full on rambling, right out the office door, which was nicely closed behind her.


Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License