The Father's Return

Wormholes

Jemma stared in front of her in disbelief. One second she was with them, the next they were gone. How and what had happened was too impossible for her to comprehend. All she could do was stand on her own two feet, weak kneed and terrified.

"Coulson?" she called her voice shaky and distressed. There was no reply, not even so much as a foot step. Looking up at the stairs they looked perfectly stable. Even the door was open, the daylight streaming in in an inviting manner. Taking steady steps she went up towards the door, her feet feeling heavy at every move. The door slammed shut. It went dark, but she could still see her hands before her, just about. Feeling for the wall she turned around to find she was touching something soft and warm, something like skin.

She gasped. He sniffed.

"Jemma! Jemma!" Coulson cried as Mike followed behind him. He was in despair and loss; he didn't know what to do. He felt stupid, wishing he would've moved quicker to grab her in time.

"Jemma!" They had no tracker, no knowledge of where she could've gone, but there was one thing that Coulson wouldn't stop doing; Hope.

"Coulson, it's no use," Mike stopped and shook his head, "She could be anywhere, down here, out there, who knows."

"I can't give up on her, she never gave up on me," he replied turning around to face the man who stood strongly with May in his arms. He closed his eyes as he saw blood drip from her leg. Oh how angry and upset he was right then, the rage that grew in him was sending him mad.

"Jemma!" he bellowed his voice ricocheting down the hallway. They waited in silence, Coulson's breathing heavy as the stress in his chest rose up to his throat. Then there was a scream.

"Let me go!" she cried as her body was hauled over the man's shoulder. She kicked and squirmed, fighting to get loose.

"You're not like the other one, you squeal like a child. She just lay there, helplessly... boring." Jemma flicked her legs this way and that, planting a kick in his stomach. He didn't even flinch.

"I'm not sorry!" she protested and tried to prize his fingers from around her waist. He laughed deeply and sighed.

"You're funny too." They continued to move back down the dusty hallways in pursuit of the other humans.

His booted feet slapped beneath him as he ran down the dark corridor.

"Come on!" he cried, "She's this way!"

"Coulson, wait!" Mike yelled after him trying to run carefully with May in his arms. The blood had stopped running from his leg; she was turning cold. Headless of this, Coulson ran on following the cries of help from his team member and friend. His anger drove him on. He hated losing the people he loved.

"Coulson!" Jemma's voice echoed down the hallway, the worried tone in her voice ached in his heart. She was too young. Mike ran on taking another quick glance down at May as she slept wearily in his arms. It wasn't long until time was out, but Coulson pursued on.

"Coulson, I really think-" Mike's voice trailed off and was lost within the echoes of his footfalls. Turning around the agent had just enough time to see the man and May disappear through a wormhole. They'd vanished, just like Jemma. Now he was alone, and lost.

"...think we should leave and - what the hell?" Mike stopped short and span round to see Coulson vanish into thin air. They stood silently in the room that May had been found in; they were back to square one. He heard muffling and a cry from outside the door. Placing May gently on the floor, she mumbled in her sleep, which gave him a glint of hope.

"Don't worry, I'll be right back. I promise." Raising his arm he readied his fire power and peered around the door frame. Standing in the corridor was a tall man, a few feet taller than himself, with Jemma slung over his shoulder. He stood threateningly but Mike did not hesitate. Stepping out into the hall, he aimed a target shot at the stranger but froze when Jemma was lowered to the ground. She pushed away from him and ran towards Mike. She was only five meters away, four, three... To his horror he saw the stranger pull out an unusual looking weapon - but a weapon none the least - and fire. Jemma screamed and tripped, grasping her thigh. She fell to the ground and vanished down through the floor into a dark wormhole. It closed behind her.

"Jemma!" Mike cried. She was lost.

"No, no, no, no," Coulson muttered walking to and fro. He flung his arms around and stamped his foot on the ground, dust curling around him. He was alone and he found himself wishing they'd got more trackers; Jemma had the only one. He went to call after Mike when he heard a gun fire, a scream, and a yell.

"Jemma!" a voice echoed. Coulson stopped and his eyes glowed brightly full of worry, and a sudden sense of relief.

"Mike!" he called and ran as fast as his legs could go towards the sound of life.