Chapter Text
“You know,” Skye was saying. “I think I’d rather he’d just shot me. This is humiliating. Asshole.” She grumbled.
“It can’t be that bad. I mean, I’m not saying that the situation is ideal, but you’ve been shot twice already—and I don’t think we have any more miracle cures hidden away in secret bases. And watch your language.” Jemma’s voice was kind, but firm, prim and proper and English, and that made her sound really cool, in Skye’s opinion.
Skye huffed at the reprimand and resisted an almost overwhelming urge to poke her tongue out at Simmons. She was still a grown-up, regardless of what she looked like. “That’s easy for you to say; you’re not the one who took a bath in the Fountain of Youth—although I’d be much happier if you quit stabbing me.” And that’s exactly what it felt like too, not to mention it was scary on top of being painful. She was all alone, and she was getting repeatedly poked with a big scary needle. She wanted to cry, but she didn’t. She was brave, and brave girls didn’t cry.
“I know this isn’t exactly pleasant,” Jemma said gently. “I just want to make sure they didn’t do anything else to you. We don’t know what was in the serum, and if it’s having any negative effects on your body, I’d rather catch them sooner than later.”
Skye sighed. Simmons had a point—but that didn’t mean she had to like being the size of a three year old child. As far as she could tell, whatever crap Ward and his idiot HYDRA goons had drenched her with had only changed her physically—she was still perfectly capable of cracking virtually any computer system on the planet, she was just a lot smaller.
She tried to keep up her poker face while Simmons examined her, but it was difficult—inwardly, she was terrified. And, Coulson had been in the room initially, and they hadn’t had a chance to really talk, but he’d called her a trooper, and that meant she was brave (even though she didn’t get the hug she’d wanted from him.)
Ever since the relationship dynamics between her and Coulson and May had changed so that she was their Little, not just a member of their team, she’d often wished that she could actually be little again so they could carry her around properly; as an adult, she’d been much too big for that. Now, however, she was quickly discovering that being child-sized again was much scarier than she’d expected—everything was bigger than she was now, and no amount of combat training from May was worth anything if she didn’t have the physique to utilize it.
She felt raw, and afraid, and terribly, terribly vulnerable, and she really just wanted a hug—but she wasn’t about to tell Simmons that now, because the last thing she needed was to have her mental faculties in question—the situation was almost as irritating as it was scary without that added to the mix.
She wanted to suck her thumb, because she was scared, and she felt very little, but she fought the urge—there was no need to make herself appear more childish than she already was; and considering that she was currently drowning in one of her old t-shirts, that was saying something. She realized then that she was trembling, and she twisted her hands in the hem of her shirt to keep herself still.
Be brave, Skye. She told herself firmly. It didn’t help very much. She wanted her blanket, and a bottle, and a diaper, because those things were safe, and she didn’t feel very safe at all.
May came into the room then, and Skye felt a little calmer—she knew that May could protect her, as much as she hated to admit that she needed protecting.
“I came as soon as I could.” May said, her tone brisk and a little impatient. “Are you okay?”
Skye nodded. “I’m fine. Besides being…you know, tiny, and everything. It’s not nearly as exciting as you might think—I can’t reach the cookie jar on top of the fridge anymore. I think I might actually go crazy., since that’s my go to comfort-food, and Coulson keeps all the good ones in there. On the bright side, I can punch Hunter in the nuts and he won’t even see it coming now, serves him right for drawing a mustache on my face when I was asleep, in permanent marker. That stuff isn’t easy to get off, you know.” She tried to sound nonchalant about the whole thing, but judging by then expression May’s face, she saw right through Skye’s bravado, to the terrified little girl she felt like on the inside.
“I’m glad you’re feeling okay.” May told her, but her tone said: You’re not fooling me. She turned to Simmons, and placed a comforting hand on Skye’s back—the fact that it covered Skye’s entire back was a little surreal, but it made her feel much safer.
“Any progress with Skye’s bloodwork? The sooner we figure out what’s causing this, the sooner we can get to work on a solution.”
“I’ve just finished examining the first of the samples, so far as I can tell she’s stopped shrinking, but it will take some time to make sense of the other results.” Jemma replied, and Skye thought she sounded a little exasperated. Not that Skye could blame her, she was under an awful lot of pressure.
“Do you mind taking some of the samples to Coulson? I think Banner and Stark might be able to help us out on this one. Banner is a doctor, and Stark is a genius and, well, as he puts it, ‘has some really cool science toys. Between the two of them, we should be able to make some headway.”
Jemma nodded. “That sounds like a good idea. As much as I hate to say it, I’m a little out of my depth on this, a consult wouldn’t hurt, and I’m sure Doctor Banner has heaps more experience with this kind of thing than I do.” She stuck a small, round band-aid on the puncture site where she’d drawn Skye’s blood. “There we are, good as new.” She paused to gather up a few of the vials and then headed out of the room, presumably to find Coulson.
“Skye?” May’s voice was calm, and gentle as she moved to stand in front of Skye. “How are you? Really?”
Skye was shaking all over again, and she was very glad she hadn’t had anything to eat recently, because her stomach tied itself in an anxious knot, and she thought she might’ve thrown up if she had.
“I’m…I’m really scared.” Skye admitted. Her eyes burned, and she really didn’t want to cry, but she didn’t think she’d be able to stop the tears. Now that Mommy was here, she didn’t feel very brave at all.
“Before, when I was Little, I always wanted to actually be little, so you could hold me for real, and now that I am…It’s the scariest thing in the world. Literally everything can hurt me now. All your training, all that time we spent practicing at the firing range—all of it’s useless, because I’m too little to use it. I’ve never felt so vulnerable before; it’s worse now, because I’ve seen the ugly side of people, and I know that they’re capable of some really horrible things…and now, not only am I powerless to fight back, I’m also defenseless and that’s…that’s terrifying.”
She was proud of herself for saying all that without bursting into tears, but she was still trembling, and weak, and brittle; she felt like she could crumble into a million pieces at any second. And it only got worse when another awful thought occurred to her:
“You’re going to send me back to St. Agnes, aren’t you? That’s what the rest of the team will want. This…this is no place for…someone like me, especially not now. I have nothing to offer the team—I can’t do anything…”
Suddenly, she was crying, hard, ragged sobs that shook her whole body. She didn’t want to leave, not now, not when she finally had…a family. She couldn’t go back to being just another mouth to feed, another face that people only pretended to care about.
“Oh, baby girl,” May said, and it took Skye a second to realize that May was actually holding her for real. It felt just as safe and wonderful as she’d imagined it would feel. “Shh. I’ve got you…I’ve got you.”
Skye was a lot more comforted by that than she’d admit out loud, but she definitely wasn’t complaining.
“I’d never send you away. And I don’t care what the team says, anyone who can’t deal with having a smaller you around until we can fix this is out of a job.” Her voice was so tender and gentle and full of love, and Skye felt so little.
She stuck her thumb in her mouth and sucked on it, because that always helped her stop crying. She was with Mommy, and they were alone, so she knew it was okay.
May patted her back and rocked her gently; the motion was so soothing that it almost lulled Skye to sleep.
After a long moment, Skye pulled away. “Really?”
May nodded solemnly. “Really. Anyone who treats you differently because of this will have to answer to Coulson and I. As far as I’m concerned, this is no different than being injured in the field: you’re still you, still just as capable as you were before, you just have to take it easy for a while until you heal. And if you need to be little during that time period, that’s perfectly okay, too.”
“I don’t know what I want…” Skye confessed. “I just want to be me again. I don’t like this…I was finally becoming someone, I wasn’t just a scared orphan who hacked her way into a secret government organization trying to find some scrap of information on her parents—I was one of the good guys. And now…”
May rubbed her back some more, and she didn’t feel quite so terrible. May sat down in the wheeled lab chair where Jemma’d been examining Skye’s blood samples. She set Skye down on her lap and wiped away stray tears with the pads of her thumbs.
“You still are that person, Skye. You’re still one of us. Just because you’re a little smaller doesn’t change what you are. It’s different, but that’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with being different.”
May took her very gently by the shoulders and looked her in the eye. “It’s alright to be scared. Anybody in your position would be, and anyone who tells you different is full of it. But, Skye, I want you to know that I’m not going to let anything happen to you, okay? I promise.”
“You can’t promise that.” Skye said bitterly.
“I can.” May countered, still calm and gentle and safe. “I absolutely can promise you that. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, Skye.”
Skye nodded. “Okay. Thanks,” she stared at her. She didn’t really feel big or little at the moment, just awkward, and a little embarrassed. “Do you think we could maybe go and get some clothes? None of my stuff fits anymore…”
“Of course. We can go now if you want; we’ll get something to eat at the mall.”
Skye blinked. “The mall? Isn’t that a little…risky? What if someone sees us? We’re kind of fugitives at the moment…”
May smiled and ruffled Skye’s hair, just a little. “They will, but they won’t expect any of us to have a child with us. In some ways, you being this little again is the best cover we have.”
Skye smiled back; maybe she wasn’t completely useless after all. “That’s…actually pretty cool.” She admitted. “I guess this, mini-me thing isn’t all terrible. I can be like your super-secret ninja sidekick. No one would ever see me coming.”
Super-secret ninja sidekick? Way to be mature, Skye. She mentally kicked herself for saying that as her face heated up. Hard.
May just smiled at her. “So, super-secret ninja sidekick, do you need to use the bathroom before we go?”
Skye was suddenly aware that she did need to go. Badly. In fact, she was fairly certain that her bladder was going to explode. That was worrisome—she’d be the first to admit that she didn’t have the greatest track record as far as rushing to the bathroom was concerned, but she’d never had to go this badly, this suddenly before. And, she was a little annoyed at the fact that May had noticed before she had.
She nodded, and May scooped her up again; she had to pee too badly to be embarrassed that she needed to be carried to the bathroom.
Normally, it wouldn’t have bothered her much—at all really, especially if she was Little—but since she was trying to maintain as much control of her faculties as she could, trying to hold on to what little remained of her adulthood, regardless of her current size, it was more than a little unsettling.
“Hurry,” she murmured nervously around her thumb, before jerking it out of her mouth, upset with herself for not noticing that it was there in the first place.
“I’m hurrying, baby. We’re almost there.” May assured her, though she noticeably picked up the pace. Skye was too concerned with holding it to be irritated at her choice of term of endearment.
Skye made it. Barely. May had just sat her down on the toilet—she was too grateful to be on the toilet instead of peeing all over herself and May—when she started. She wanted to say that she’d ‘made it’ on her own, but the logical, adult portion of her brain was telling her that it was more a matter of extremely fortunate timing than anything else. That wasn’t a good sign.
Once she’d finished, she was confronted with another problem: she couldn’t reach the sink. May was standing just outside the door, giving her space, which she appreciated, but as embarrassed as she was to need help again, she wasn’t going to leave the bathroom without washing her hands first. That was gross.
“May? Uh…little help” Skye fidgeted, uncomfortable.
“Oh, I’m sorry, kiddo,” she said, and Skye felt a little more grown-up. Only a little though. She lifted Skye up so she could reach the sink.
Skye gasped when she caught sight of herself in the mirror.
“Eveyrthing okay?” May wondered.
“Fine. Just haven’t seen my reflection yet. I’m kind of adorable.” Skye realized. “Oh, god. Fitzsimmons and Bobbi are gonna have a field day with this one…Can we please get some adultish stuff at the mall? I don’t have high expectations, and I don’t mind some childish stuff, but I don’t want to look like a walking advertisement for Osh Kosh B’Gosh.”
May settled Skye on her hip. “I think that can be arranged. Let’s go see what we can do.”