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“There are rats in the cabinet,” Skye said.
Without looking up from her experiment Simmons said, “Not that cabinet, the one just above it. Thanks.”
Skye opened the other cabinet and found the set of beakers that Simmons had asked her to fetch. She carried them over to the bench where Simmons was working. “Hey Simmons?”
“Yes.”
“Why are there rats in the cabinet?”
“It’s for an experiment I’m running looking at the long term physiological effects of different environmental stressors - heat, cold, starvation, hypoxia. I’m testing formulas that can alter human physiology enough to withstand these extreme conditions.”
“But why?”
“To protect agents in the field who have been captured. The idea is that instead of swallowing a cyanide capsule or some other lethal poison to avoid being tortured by enemy forces, agents would simply press a button and inject themselves with this formula that would allow them to survive extreme conditions until they were rescued.”
Fitz nodded. “I’m designing a delivery device that’s as small as a wristwatch and can contain up to four different formulas to cover whatever environment agents might face.”
“No, I mean why the rats. You said you wanted to study human physiology.”
Simmons laughed. “Well I can’t very well stick you or Ward in the cabinet and subject one of you to weeks of extreme environments. That would be unethical.”
“What about cell cultures or computer models? I could help you program something.” Skye said.
“A living organism is too complex to reproduce for such a lengthy experiment. We want to look at all aspects of physiology, and this is the best way to do so. Coulson agreed to let us continue the experiment on the plane.”
Skye shook her head. “It just doesn’t seem right. Those rats are living beings. It’s not right to torture them just for our benefit.”
Fitz and Simmons exchanged a look. “Oh, you’re one of those,” Fitz said.
“One of what?”
“One of those activists who doesn’t believe in animal research,” Fitz said.
The way he said it made it clear what he thought of such people. Skye bristled. “I’m not one of anything. I believe in a lot of things: freedom of speech, freedom of information, respect for all life -”
“And so do we,” Simmons interrupted gently. “I have absolute respect for these research subjects. I wouldn’t do these experiments if they weren’t important, but we’re talking about saving S.H.I.E.L.D. agents from being tortured to death.”
Before she joined S.H.I.E.L.D. Skye knew exactly how she felt about animal testing. It was wrong. Period. Sacrificing animals to help humans was wrong no matter how much bigger and stronger we humans were. Now though her mind flashed to Ward or Coulson being tortured by enemy agents, and she wondered if the life and suffering of a few rats was really a small price to pay in order to protect them.
“Okay,” Skye said reluctantly. She was not sure that it was, but she did not want to argue any more about it.
*****
“What are you doing?”
Skye turned to see FitzSimmons’ horrified faces behind her. “Uh-”
“You can’t take them out of their environments!” Simmons exclaimed as Fitz cried, “You’re letting rats run around the lab!”
“Just for a minute,” Skye said defensively. “I just wanted to play with them for a little bit. They looked so lonely in the tiny cages.”
Simmons rolled her eyes. “They’re not lonely. They’re rats. And they’re supposed to be in their controlled environments. You’re giving them a reprieve from their physiologic stressors.”
“Not to mention getting rat urine and feces on our equipment, and letting them chew on the equipment.”
“Guys, I was here the whole time. They weren’t running all over the lab. I was just taking them out and holding them and playing with them a little.”
“And singing to them,” Fitz added. “We heard you singing. You were pretty good actually.”
Skye blushed. She had not realized that anyone else was around to hear her. “Thanks.”
Simmons frowned. “How long have you been doing this for?”
“A few weeks,” Skye admitted.
“You must be the reason the data’s been off.”
“Wait, what? But I didn’t change any of the settings on the experiment. I just took them out for a few minutes a day.”
“That’s enough. Giving love and attention to lab animals, even just singing to them, makes them healthier.”
“Really? That’s cool,” Skye said.
“No, it’s not. You’re contaminating my results,” Simmons said.
“What are we supposed to suggest to S.H.I.E.L.D., that agents ask their captors to sing to them to relieve stress?” Fitz asked.
Skye sighed. “Fine. I’m sorry.” She put the rat back in the cage and went back to her bunk.
*****
Skye tried not to think of the rats after that. After what happened with Miles she found herself spending most of her free time in the lab with FitzSimmons. It might be full of weird equipment and mysterious substances, but at least FitzSimmons talked to her and made her feel like part of the team. She tried to keep up with their rapid fire science chatter, and whenever Simmons opened up the rat cabinet she turned away from their sad faces and swallowed any objections that were forming on the tip of her tongue. She did not want to do or say anything that would alienate the only people who treated her like a teammate and not a criminal.
Then Simmons contracted the Chitauri virus, and the rats took center stage in the lab as Simmons tested the antiserum on them. Skye watched with baited breath as Simmons administered the antiserum to three of the rats, hoping that at least one of them would survive. When the third and final rat died and levitated despite receiving the antiserum, Skye cried at what that meant for her friend. Fortunately Fitz realized that the antiserum had worked. The rat had been knocked out, but was fine, and after Ward jumped out of the plane to catch her, so was Simmons.
The day after the rescue, FitzSimmons were sorting through the lab to decide what should be left at the Sandbox before they went off to their next mission. Skye stared at the lone surviving rat from the Chitauri virus. He was snoozing in a corner of the cage, looking perfectly content despite his brush with death.
“So what’s going to happen to this guy?” Skye asked.
“I offered him to researchers at the Sandbox who are going to be working on the Chitauri virus, but they weren’t interested. I’ll probably keep him onboard and monitor his status. It will be fascinating to see what long term sequelae that the infection may have.”
Skye looked at Simmons and Fitz who were trying their best not to look worried. “But he was cured. He’s going to be fine, right?”
“It looks like it, but we won’t know for certain for the next few weeks. Maybe even months or years,” Simmons said. “A virus can lay dormant for years before reactivating.”
Fitz placed a hand reassuringly on her shoulder. “We’ll be able to keep an eye on it in case anything happens.”
“He needs a name then. I mean if he’s going to hang out with us for a while,” Skye said.
“He already has a name. He’s specimen W756.”
“That’s not a real name. What about Fievel? Like from An American Tale.”
“Fievel was a mouse. This is a rat,” Simmons said.
“Fine. I don’t know any cartoon rats.”
“He doesn’t need a name. He’s not a pet,” Fitz said.
*****
A few days later Skye came into the lab after everyone else was gone. She did not want to mess with FitzSimmons’ experiment, but she figured that since the Chitauri-infected rat was no longer being exposed to harsh environments it would not hurt to hold him for a second. She smiled when she saw that someone had written the name “Nicodemus” under “Specimen W756” on the cage label.
Skye looked up to see Simmons hovering above her. “Hi. I was just, uh -” she began guiltily, but before she could explain herself Simmons thrust a sheet of paper at her.
“Here.”
“What’s this?”
“If you’re going to insist on playing with the rats and singing to them, we need to make sure that you do it evenly to each group. I’ve drawn up a schedule so you can keep track.”
Fitz came up behind Simmons. “You know we could integrate music into the treatment protocol. The comms could be programmed with have music files that would activate in cases of capture.”
“I wonder what type of music would work best. We should set up another experiment and have Skye sing songs from different genres to the rats.”
Fitz nodded vigorously. “And then we could record her singing and implant the files in the comms.”
FitzSimmons turned their excited faces towards Skye, and she wondered how her attempts to play with the rats have led to her becoming a S.H.I.E.L.D. popstar. She thought of Ward, listening to Skye singing through his comm while being held captive, and smiled.