[ Uncertainty suffocates her for a beat too long. The quiet eats away at the space between them, and a weight sinks in Skye's chest. Spikes. Whatever Skye's been dealing with, she's not the only one. A quick blink follows and she shifts her weight, sharpening her gaze on Coulson. ]

Yeah. Yeah, something's wrong. I screwed up—bad. I gave my crazy dad exactly what he wanted, and now Trip's dead, Raina's deformed, and I— [ She shakes her head, babbling through it. Her breath catches. ] What happens if I'm not clear? What if it did something to me too?

[ She clings to ifs, but fear demands she figure out precisely what they're looking at here. ]