All language subtitles for Agent.of.SHIELD.S01E06.720p.BluRay.x265.10Bit-Pahe.in

Thing is, no one exactly knows

what happened
to the Crying Man that summer.

Some say that he drowned in the lake.

But others say that
they've seen his ghost

wandering these woods
in search for his lost sister.

Actually, they say if you're quiet
and listen real hard,

you can still hear him crying.

Mr. Cross, that was, like,
the worst Crying Man ever.

- Really? I thought it was pretty good.
-No.

You guys think we're kidding.

Just remember to stick close
to the campfire tonight, okay?

Hey, guys, do you hear that?

Hear what?

That humming sound.

Stay here. I'm gonna take a look
around the campground.

What humming?

Where's Mr. Cross going?

He's just trying to scare us.
So lame.

Come on, guys, grab a s'more.
All right, these are for you.

Ooh, I want the marshmallows.

Tom, I know you like chocolate,
so there you go.

- Don't hog the marshmallows, okay?
- Of course, my favorite.

Hey-

- Everyone, to the truck! Now!
-No!

Go, go! Go! Come on. Hurry up.

What was that?

Are you guys Okay?

Mr. Cross?

Mr. Cross?

Come on, guys. Let's go look for him.

Stay close.

Mr. Cross, are you okay?

Where is he?

Mr. Cross.

We should just go back.

Ahh!

Working up a good sweat there, sir?

I don't sweat. I glisten.

Blood pressure, heart rate,
biochems, all normal.

All that's left is the blood sample.

You should know,
I'm not a fan of getting poked.

Tell me, sir, have you been feeling
under the weather lately?

- Why?

I just noticed from your chart that
you're not due for a general physical

for another three months.

I made a mistake.
Took a call from my physical therapist.

Asked how I was feeling,
I said, "A little rusty."

Next thing you know,
I'm wired to this hamster wheel.

Well, you can officially
tell your physical therapist

that you're fit as the proverbial fiddle.

Especially for a man of your age.

"A man of my age"?

That's something
you say to an old person.

Is it? Well, let's get you
some electrolytes, shall we?

Huh.

Sorry, Fitz.
It's close, but it's just not right.

Really? 'Cause Agent Coulson
had no problems.

It's an ounce too heavy.

An ounce? Seriously?

It's the difference
between success and failure.

When you're on a rooftop
with a 15 mile-an-hour wind,

your target is 500 yards away...

Yeah, but we do have a rifle.

Lose the ounce.

Yeah, okay. On it.

Lose the ounce.

"I'm Agent Grant Ward,

"and I can shoot the legs off a flea
from 500 yards,

- "as long as it's not windy."

Hey, that's a sound
I haven't heard in a bit.

Yeah, well, you wouldn't be
laughing a whole lot

if you were living in Ward's doghouse.

You made the rounds,
apologized to us all.

- What more can he ask? Mmm.
-I don't know.

I have been busting my ass,

memorizing every S.H.I.E.L.D.
protocol manual,

following every order.
"Yes, sir!" "No, sir!"

I even let them tag me like a stray dog.

I mean, I know I lied to you guys,

but I was trying to protect my boyfriend.

You know, we all make mistakes.

I don't care...
Who cares about your ex-boyfriend?

It's not like
I'm comparing Ward to Miles,

but at least with Miles,
I didn't have to worry

about passive aggressive stuff.
There's no mind games.

We spoke the same language,
you know?

Yeah, yeah, a bit like we do.

Totally. You and Simmons are so tight.

- It's like you're psychically linked.
-No. Actually, no, I don't think so.

So Ward was here? Let me guess.
The Night-Night pistol again?

Yeah. Oh, yeah, and he said
it was off by an ounce.

'Course he did.

"I'm Agent Grant Ward,

"and I could rupture your spleen
with my left pinky.

- "Blindfolded."

- That is dead on.

Hey. Hustle up and grab your gear.

- We're on a mission.

Something funny?

Poor, silly Fitz.

He mistakenly left a dummy round
in the pistol.

Should be proper now.

Great. Thanks.

Troop leader's name
was Adam Cross.

Apparently, he said he heard
something in the woods,

went to check it out.

That's where
the electrostatic anomaly occurred.

What I don't understand is

usually they're caused
by a massive electrical storm.

But there wasn't a storm
within 1,000 miles of here last night.

This anomaly's different.

It has a side effect
we've never seen before.

The battery blew straight up
through the hood.

Landed over here.

Hell of a force
to create that kind of trajectory.

Huh.

What are you doing?

I'm shadowing my supervising officer.

Shadowing. Not smothering.

There's scorch marks all over that tree.

Lucky the whole forest
didn't burn down.

I don't get it. Seems to me
like this electroshock thingy

was some freak lightning strike.

I mean, why call us? What's the big...

Oh

Never mind.

So sad a man died this way.

And yet, so amazing.

Fitz-Simmons, any idea
what could cause an effect like this?

- Well, judging by the horizontal...
-The soliton hypothesis...

Time. Let's try that again.

Any idea what could cause
an effect like this?

- The hell if I know.
-Uh, no, no clue.

Seems to me like we're either dealing
with some freak natural event

or a new high-tech weapon.

Or could it be someone
from your über secret Index?

There's no one on the Index
with this type of power.

That we know of.

I'll contact Agent Blake
at S.H.I.E.L.D. H.Q.,

have him check it out.

Whoever or whatever's responsible,

we can't let this happen again.

Fitz, see his forehead?

Look at that endothelial discoloration.

Yeah, same dispersal pattern
as the strike on the truck.

Could be an entry wound,
cauterized immediately?

- Freaky.

Freaky!

- You found something on Cross?
-Many things, actually.

But you already knew that,

thanks to my fancy S.H.I.E.L.D.
house-arrest gizmo

tracking my every key swipe,
my online activity, my cholesterol.

Just wish it came in another color.

Or came off.

The victim?

Adam Cross. Single, no kids,

originally from Wrigley, Pennsylvania,
not far from here.

Been there.

They have a nice little
strawberry festival in the spring.

Occupation?

Phys. Ed. teacher
at the local high school,

and varsity baseball coach,
and troop leader,

and volunteer firefighter.

This guy makes Captain America
look like The Dude.

The Big Lebowski. Seriously?

What about a criminal record,
restraining order,

something that might give us
a suspect?

--Nada. Not even a parking ticket.

I skimmed all his posts,
anyone linked to his pages,

hoping for a crazy ex
or super-powered stalker,

and he's clean.

Everybody looks clean
on their first go 'round.

Ward's right. We're missing something.
Dig deeper.

You've been pretty tough on her.

She lied to us.

Contacted the Rising Tide
while we were on a mission.

If she wants our trust back,
she's got to earn it.

The background she ran on Cross
is a good start.

Put it up on the server.

I want May to have a look
when she's done with her interrogation.

Have a cookie.

Excellent timing, sir.

I've been analyzing sagittal
and coronal images

of the victim's brain.

What's Fitz doing out there?

He detected a strange energy
coming off the body.

- He's afraid of it, isn't he?
-it's the smell!

There's no shame in it, Fitz.

It's perfectly natural to be afraid.

No, the only thing I'm afraid of

is putrid, decaying flesh
corrupting my pristine workspace.

Do you remember the last time
you brought a dead thing into the lab?

Oh, not the stupid cat again!

- And it's our lab, Fitz, not your lab!
-The cat! Tell him about the cat.

You left his liver next to my lunch!

Guys, can we please...

Yes, sir.

Um, as I was saying,
this is the victim's brain.

Looks like
a burnt baked potato.

That happens when it's hit

with close to 2,000 megajoules
of electrostatic energy.

That's almost double the power
of a lightning bolt.

Kid's clean.

You figure out
why the body was floating?

--Not yet.

The molecular density of the victim
was temporarily altered

by an unknown energy source.

I'm hoping to shed some light
on its effects

once I extract a brain tissue sample.

It's happening again!

It's science, Fitz!
I have to dissect something!

No, the satellite's picking up
another electrostatic event,

not 20 kilometers from here!

Fitz, what's the latest reading?

We're at 324 megajoules
and growing stronger.

Dangerous territory, sir.

There's a farmhouse a mile north of you
right at the center of the signal.

That's gotta be it.

Skye, dig up everything you can
on whoever lives at that farm.

We need to know
who we're dealing with.

Hold on now. What just happened?
Um, it's gone.

- What's gone?
-The electrostatic signal.

It seemed to pulse, then disappear.

We need a shortcut.

Door's barred from the inside.

- Hayloft's open.
-We could ram it with the truck.

Or...

Scan the perimeter.

Whoever did this
couldn't have gotten far.

Barricaded himself inside.
Went for his shotgun.

He was scared.
Trying to protect himself.

From who? How'd they get to him?

Another burn mark on the forehead.

No sign of anyone.
No tracks, no vehicles down the road.

Skye, we need real-time
sat surveillance on this area right now.

- Hang on.

I think I found something
you might wanna see first.

Sending it over now.

The guy who owns the farm's
name is Frank Whalen.

He's a volunteer firefighter

at the same station house
as our first victim, Adam Cross.

Our two victims knew each other?

They were both responders
when the aliens crashed New York.

Two victims from the same firehouse
found in the same weird way.

We're looking for a killer.

Gotcha!

Hey, urn, anyone else notice all
the metal scattered around the body,

like an electromagnetic field
was present?

Question is, what created it?

We need to get this body back
to the lab as soon as possible.

Something about these wounds...

Skye, what'd you find out
about the firehouse?

It turns out
they sent an engine to New York

with a dozen volunteers
after the Chitauri invasion,

including Cross and Whalen.

Maybe it has something to do
with why they were targeted?

Or how they were killed.

You mean, like, an alien weapon?

Let's just make sure
we get to those firefighters

before anyone else does.

Evening, gentlemen.
Agent Phil Coulson with S.H.I.E.L.D.

We were on the ground with you
in New York.

S.H.I.E.L.D. Right.
What's this all about?

We'd like to ask you a few questions,
take a look around.

Hey, guys-

What's goin' on?

- What are you looking for?
- A scented candle.

Not you.

This wound,
something doesn't quite make sense.

Initially, I thought
these were entry wounds,

as if from a gunshot, but they're not.

They're exit wounds.

What do you mean? Frankie's dead?

- I'm very sorry.
-You know how it happened?

The same way your other friend,
Mr. Cross, died the day before.

Which was how, exactly?

I'm sorry. Your name is?

Tony. Tony Diaz.

You okay, Mr. Diaz?

Actually, uh...

I'm actually not feeling so hot.

Cover the back door.
Nobody comes in or out.

What if this weapon
overloaded the brain

past the threshold
of its electrical capacity

causing it to discharge, like an EMP?

You're assuming
we're dealing with an external source.

I'm saying it was
something from inside him.

Something's happening.

The satellite's picking up
another reading.

It's coming from the firehouse.

That humming noise, you hear that?

No, I don't.

Were you in New York
with Mr. Cross and Mr. Whalen

after the Chitauri invasion?

Come on, you don't hear that?

It's driving me nuts.

Mr. Diaz, are you with me?

Whatever you're doing, make it stop.

I'm not doing anything!

- Where's the weapon?
-The what?

Coulson, I found it.

It's a Chitauri helmet.

Fitz-Simmons, are you seeing this?

It's not a weapon,

yet it caused a cranial discharge.

- What are you doing with the helmet?
-What? The alien thing? It's a souvenir!

--Aah!

--Not again.

Answer the question, Mr. Diaz.
What are you doing with the helmet?

The first time anyone's touched it
since New York

-was a couple nights ago.
-Why?

It had rust all over it.
We were cleaning it.

That wasn't rust.

May, don't touch it!

Sir, he's not using a weapon.
He's infected.

I think the helmet was the source
of an alien virus.

All we did was clean it, I swear!

Me, Frankie and Adam,
we were bored on the third shift,

so we decided to clean it.

Adam and Frankie...

Mr. Diaz, I'm putting the gun away now,
okay?

Sir, he's at 600 megajoules
and climbing!

Sir!

Clear everybody out.
Clear everybody out now.

I'm gonna wind up like them, aren't I?

Why don't you have a seat?

You have any family? Wife, kids?

Is there anyone you wanna talk to?
Anything I can do?

Sir, you have to get out of there
right now! He's going...

Listen to me.

I've been where you are right now.

So please believe me when I tell you,
you don't have to be afraid.

What are you talking about?

Your job.

It gets pretty dangerous, doesn't it?

Mine, too.

I got hurt once. Pretty bad.

And I died.

Some say it was only for eight seconds,

but I know it was more than that.

I know I wasn't here anymore.

I was there.

What's it like?

It's beautiful.

You better get going, buddy.

Go.

All clean.
No traces of electrostatic energy.

What about the other firefighters?

They'll be quarantined and observed
at a S.H.I.E.L.D. bio-hazard facility.

Um, anyone else notice they're putting
the infected alien thing on our truck?

- We're flying it to the Sandbox.
-Sandbox?

It's a S.H.I.E.L.D. research facility
across the Atlantic.

They specialize in hazardous materials.

--if what you suspect is true,

that this is a virus,

then those firefighters
could be infected,

and they're gonna need a cure.

Find one.

Yes, sir.

What's our ETA?

3:37 West Africa Time.

Gonna be a long four hours
and 26 minutes.

You Okay?

Fine.

Just want this alien thing off our plane
as soon as humanly possible.

You wanna talk about your physical?

Nothing to tell.

My physical therapist requested it.
He's updating his files or something.

You'd tell me if something was wrong.

Of course.

Sir,
I think I've discovered something.

- Could you come down to the lab?
-I'll be right there.

Phil.

The fireman,
you did everything you could for him.

So,
what am I looking for, exactly?

Wait for it.

What was that?

A groundbreaking discovery!

I believe the firefighters
initially contracted the virus

when they cleaned the helmet.

The friction activating
some long-decaying Chitauri organism.

Hang on. These cells are
from the bodies of the firefighters?

Brain cells, yes.
The last vestiges of the infection.

Some viruses sleep inside host cells
for years before reproducing,

as they did inside the helmet,
the initial source.

But what those cells tell us is that

we're dealing with a propagating virus,
which means...

The virus can move
from person to person.

Exactly! And that's
the most exciting part, how it spreads.

Not through the air,
or through direct fluid transfer,

but through electrostatic shock.

It's like nothing
we've ever seen on Earth.

I didn't think it possible a virus could

alter its host's molecular density
and polarity.

That explains the floating.

I can't wait till the virologists at the CDC
and S.H.I.E.L.D. H.Q. see this.

Sir, is something wrong?

I'm so sorry, Jemma.

Oh, no.

Simmons believes
she contracted the virus

approximately 36 hours ago

when she received an electrostatic
shock from the first victim.

How much time does she have?

Based on when
the firemen were infected,

how quickly
their symptoms manifested...

Two hours at most.

That's enough time, right?

I mean, S.H.I.E.L.D. has dozens
of labs and scientists

working on this thing, don't they?

They do. How soon
can you get us on the ground?

Three hours.

Our path to the Sandbox has us
right in the middle of the Atlantic.

So, correct me if I'm wrong,
but if we can't land in time...

Simmons will release a pulse that
will blow this plane right out of the sky.

We can't just sit here and watch her die.
We have to do something.

There's only one person on this plane
capable of finding a solution for this,

and I'm willing to bet my life
that she will.

She's just a kid.

I believe we have a winner.

Fast and efficient,
the perfect delivery mechanism.

Uh, hey, um, not that it was easy
to find a mineralized solution

that could suspend the vaccine
and conduct electricity.

I wish you wouldn't use
the word "vaccine".

It's really more of an anti-serum.

Okay, so...

These antibodies should be able
to target the virus' antigens.

If this bloody alien virus
even has antigens.

- Come on, now. Come on.

That wasn't very cooperative
of him now, was it?

Why aren't you down there?

They don't need an audience.

You can stay.

If you want.

I hate this.

- I just feel so...
-Helpless.

Yeah.

I wanted it to be a person.

Some super-powered psychopath.

Someone I could hurt.
Someone I could punish.

That I could do.

What I can't do is protect you guys
from stuff I can't even see.

Or understand.

So what do we do?

We wait.

And get ready.

Ready for what?

For whatever it is
we're called upon to do.

Coulson, nice to see you're not dead.

Did you get our analysis of the virus?

We did, and S.H.I.E.L.D. has
no record of anything like it.

No one does.

So it's imperative it reach
the Sandbox without incident.

In case of a pandemic,
we're gonna need it.

I'm aware of that,

but I don't need more orders
or ultimatums. I need answers.

I wish I had some for you.

I'm sorry, Coulson.
I've been ordered to inform you

that if you have infected cargo,
you need to dump it.

Do you copy me, Coulson?

--These orders are coming from up top.

I'm sorry, bad connection.
Didn't get that last part.

Don't even think it.

I don't have to. That's your job.

It's all right.
Everything's gonna be fine.

Please stop saying that.
I see you looking at your watch.

Are you sure you don't need
my help just to...

Are you sure this thing even works?

Yeah, well, you know it does.

My device isn't the issue.
It's the vaccine.

Anti-serum!

And all I'm wondering is
whether you calibrated it correctly...

Hey, it's not the device!
Hey, don't put this on me!

I was doing just fine tucked away

in a safe, indoor, non-mobile lab
at the Academy.

Then you had to go and drag us into
this flying circus!

Didn't even pass our field assessments,
for God's sakes.

Oh, please, as if I forced you
to follow me anywhere.

You said, and I quote,

"Oh, Fitz, it's the most perfect
opportunity for us to see the world!

"We'd be fools to pass this one up."

I hate it when you use that voice.
That's not even how I sound.

And you were just afraid
of going into the field.

I was not afraid.

And don't you dare act like
these last months

haven't been the highlight
of your entire pasty life.

Pasty. Oh, really?

Well, when did you become
so sun-kissed?

Because I'm pretty sure
that every minute of every day,

you've been stuck in a lab
right beside me.

At the Academy, at Sci-Ops, this plane,

you've been beside me
the whole damn time!

You have to fix this.

I don't know how, Fitz.

The antibodies
from the three firefighters

aren't strong enough to fight this virus.

It's born from alien DNA.

There's no one to create
an anti-serum from,

because no one's actually
survived this except...

The Chitauri.

The minky bastard who actually wore
the helmet had the virus...

Yeah, and managed to survive

without ever emitting
an electrostatic pulse because...

- He was immune.
-Yes!

She was just the carrier.
Like Typhoid Mary.

Uh, she? Well, no, wait.
You don't really think that...

Okay. Doesn't matter.

Um, so if I can scrape some epithelial
cells from the inside of the helmet,

we can create a vaccine.

Yes! Anti-serum, but yes!

- Isn't that...
- Fitz!

No! Uh...
You can't be in here!

Too late. It's done.

Just try and do your best
to keep your hands off me, yeah?

Fitz, I don't know what
you think you're doing, but...

I'm doing what we always do.

We're gonna fix this. Together.

Third time's a charm.

May I do the honors?

I can't breathe.

We did it.

No.

Sir, I know the protocol
in these circumstances,

but could you please tell my dad first?

I just think my mum would take it better
if it comes from him.

We're not there yet. There's still time.

Sir, please?

Would you mind if I had
a brief moment alone with Fitz?

Let's go.

We'll try again.

The electrostatic pulse from the third rat
seemed much less,

so we're making progress.
If we can calibrate the anti-serum...

Anti-serum, yes.
You finally got it right, Fitz.

I'm so sorry.

Aah!

Agent Blake is on the line.
He wants to know what's going on.

If you won't answer, he asked for Ward.

Sir, what are our orders?

They're unchanged.

What is that?

Someone's lowering
the cargo hold ramp.

What the hell?

Hey, it worked.

The pulse just knocked
the rat unconscious...

Jemma? Jemma!

Jemma, it worked!

What are you doing? No!

Jemma, no!

Jemma!

Jemma!

I'm coming. Come on, it's gonna be fine.

It's gonna be fine, Jemma.

The anti-serum works, but she jumped!

--Ah!

Don't get me wrong!
I'm happy you're both alive. Truly.

And I realize you were trying
to save the team.

But what you did today,
that was not your call.

Just getting you out of the water,

do you have any idea what a pain it is
dealing with the Moroccan office?

Don't you ever
pull a stunt like that again!

We'd hate to lose you, Jemma.

Thank you, sir.

Oh, does that mean we're to leave now?

So, what'd you think
of your first time sky diving?

Honestly, I'd rather not
think about it anymore.

I thought what you did
was incredibly brave.

Oh.

Well, I suppose now's as good
a time as any to tell you that

I may have misled you earlier.

You see, when I gave you back
the Night-Night pistol, I lied.

It's still an ounce off.

I know.

- You do?
-Of course.

After all,

"I'm Agent Grant Ward.

"I just jumped out of a plane
without a parachute on

"and saved your life!"

Actually, that's not quite it.

- It's a bit more nasally than that.

Oh.

Hello, Skye.

Oh!

How was Simmons?

Amazingly resilient.

You'd never know she almost died.

An experience like that,
it takes a while to sink in.

That her medical report?

Mine, actually.
Blood work finally came back.

I'm perfectly normal.

Little heavy on the iron, but don't worry.

You don't have
to start calling me Iron Man.

Wasn't planning on it.

My doctors never requested any tests.

I ordered them for myself,
but you knew that.

This piece of paper is telling me
that everything's fine.

But I don't feel fine.

I feel different.

Take off your shirt.

Excuse me?

Your shirt.

Unbutton it.

Whether it was eight seconds or 40,
you died.

There's no way
you can go through a trauma like that

and not come out of it changed.

- You know how long it's taken me to...
-I know.

The point of these things
is to remind us that

there is no going back.

There's only moving forward.

You feel different
because you are different.

- And I was going to do it.
-I know you were.

I had the anti-serum, the chute,
everything.

I just couldn't get the straps on.

Fitz, please.

And maybe I couldn't
have done the whole James Bond

-in-mid-air type of thing...
-Fitz, shut up. Please, just...

Ward did an amazing thing, yes.

But it wasn't Ward
by my side in that lab,

searching for a cure.

It wasn't Ward giving me hope
when I had none.

It was you.

You're the hero.

- Yeah.
-Yeah.

Thank you.

- Blake.
-Coulson.

That's the best
you could come up with?

"We've got a bad connection"?

- I was pressed for time.
-Bold move.

You know our chat
wasn't exactly private.

They never are.

I don't know
what happened to you in New York,

if you really flatlined,

or if that's just what they tell us
when we reach Level 7.

But whatever did happen
doesn't give you license

to disobey an order from H.Q.

And you keep pulling stunts like that,

someone might decide to take
this little dream team away from you.

I'd like to see them try.

That doesn't sound like
the Phil Coulson I used to know.

No, I suppose it doesn't.

Get used to it.