It's only when she's like this – when her eyes are closed and her breathing is quiet and her entire body is littered with scars, bruises, cuts and injuries ... only then does Ward see it. He sees her vulnerability that she tries so hard to disguise behind a wall of sarcasm and wit. He sees that she's still just a goddamned kid. It wouldn't surprise him if she was barely even 24.

Simmons is sitting on the other side of the bed, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. Ward doesn't really know when the two of them became very close but obviously they have because after Simmons almost died jumping out of the bus and now that Skye's lying here unconscious, the two seem to have shown nothing but compassion for one another. Ward kind of admires that about both of them. Fitz is right beside Simmons, hands shaking, chewing his bottom lip anxiously. May is still flying the plane and Coulson's on the line with HQ in his office. Ward knows that he should be emotionally detaching himself and focusing on getting himself up to speed on their latest son of a bitch target who put Skye in this position but he can't bring himself to leave her side.

He hasn't eaten or drunken anything since this morning and it must be around ten o clock at night now. He'd thrown his shirt to the ground of his bunk – the one that had been stained with her blood from the gunshot wound to her side. Now, he's just wearing the standard white SHIELD singlet and the same khaki trousers he'd had on during the mission.

Dammit, he was her S.O. He was meant to be looking out for her. How the hell had he let her get kidnapped and tortured? Great team agent, he was.

'Ward, stop blaming yourself,' Fitz says quietly and Ward breaks out of his angry spell to look at the young scientist.

'How can I not?' Ward hisses through grit teeth. 'She's my responsibility.'

'And when she got taken, you were getting your face pummeled into the ground by an army boot,' argued Fitz. 'How were you supposed to help her from the other side of the compound? You did everything you could and you've brought her back alive, haven't you?'

Ward frowns slightly. He's never seen this side of Fitz before, but then again, the guy's been different ever since Simmons threw herself off the bus.

'Guys ... you should go get some rest,' says Ward after a few moments silence. 'You've been here since she was brought in. You examined her injuries, you sewed up her wounds – you've saved her life. There's nothing more that you can do. I'll come and get you when she wakes up.'

'You need to sleep too,' noted Simmons.

Ward hesitates. 'I want to be here when she wakes up.'

He notices a brief look wash across Simmons' face but it's gone almost as quickly as it appeared. She then nods, nudging Fitz gently and pulling him to his feet. The two drag their feet over the floor tiredly until they reach the doorway of the medical sector, closing the door behind them.

Nobody really ever uses the medical ward, Ward realises. Generally, if someone's injured, they just use the lab and one of the main couches to patch each other up. This place is reserved for serious injuries. Which is why it's being used now.

His attention returns to her. To her peaceful face, her hair tumbling over her shoulders, her clenched fist covered in bruises and grazes. Carefully, Ward reaches out and covers one of her hands with his. She's warm, thankfully, and he can feel the slowly healing cuts underneath his palm. She stirs in her sleep.

'I'm sorry,' he breathes, the words falling off his lips in a stuttered choke as they catch in his throat. 'Oh God Skye, I'm so sorry.'

He can still hear her screams in the back of his mind, her pained and tortured cries and pleas and begs. Her insistence that she doesn't know anything – she honestly didn't know anything – and then the resuming of sobbing, blood curdling shrieks as the electric charges rippled through her.

She hadn't been prepared for that. She was still learning how to properly fire a gun.

Ward remembers how she looked when he stormed through the doorway, May and Coulson dealing with the gunmen in a matter of minutes, giving Ward the chance to rush over and drop to his knees in front of Skye, who's eyes were flickering and fists were curled tight. He could see the blood where her fingernails were digging into her palm.

'Skye,' he said softly. 'Skye open your eyes.'

She did. A small smile crossed her face. 'Hey. You being all Prince Charming and saving my ass?'

'Something like that,' Ward grinned, trying to ignore the rising anxiety as he saw more and more wounds all over her body. 'Come on rookie. Let's get you out of here.'

'I can't move,' she whimpered.

'I know. I'm gonna carry you.'

'Oh God.'

'Shut up and let me get you back to the bus.'

'This is gonna be embarrassing though.'

'Do you want me to save your life or not?'

'Well yeah, but can't you get a stretcher or something? Like, carrying me? Really?'

'Guys!' Coulson shouted. 'They've got reinforcements on their way, we need to go!'

'Okay, you can carry me,' Skye said with a defeated pout. She'd sucked in a sharp wince as he scooped his arms behind her knees and her back, her eyes snapping shut and her left hand grabbing his jacket suddenly.

'You okay?' he asked worriedly, inwardly cursing himself because that was literally the stupidest question in the world.

'I'm sorry I let myself get kidnapped,' she whispered as he began to walk briskly out of the warehouse and towards the SUV.

'Don't you dare apologise,' said Ward sharply. 'This wasn't your fault. Their ambush took as completely by surprise.' He could hear the rattle of gunfire and increased his pace towards the car, hoping he wasn't hurting her too much.

'My eyes are heavy,' she mumbled into his chest, clutching his jacket tighter. 'Everything hurts.'

'Go to sleep,' he murmured into her hair. 'I'll get you out of here and back to the bus. It won't hurt anymore when you wake up. I'll keep you safe.'

'I know you will,' Skye said with a small laugh.

Now she's silent and so is he. Any laughing, any smiles, any jokes or sarcastic remarks or bickering between them has died down because she's out cold and his heart is pounding against his ribs and all he wants was for her to open her eyes and make some smart-ass Skye retort.

But then she does open her eyes – those gorgeous, rich dark eyes that tear at Ward's chest because they overflow with tears and she lets out a strangled cry of pain.

'Hey, hey, hey,' Ward says immediately in a low voice. 'It's okay, you're okay.'

'I'm okay?' Skye exclaims. 'Are you crazy? I feel like I'm on fire!'

'I know,' Ward interrupts.

'No, how could you know when you're saying that I'm okay – shit, it's like I'm being torn apart – '

'Skye, just stop for a minute ... '

'Ward, just jab me with a needle or something and don't wake me up until I'm healed because right now I can't deal with this – '

The frustration bubbles over to boiling point and in a desperate attempt to make her fall quiet mixed with an overwhelming sense of joy at hearing her voice, Ward surges forward and with as much gentleness as he can muster, takes her face in his hands and presses his lips to hers. She immediately grows still but before he can pull away and stumble out of the room in the horror of what he'd done, her trembling hand is on the nape of his neck and she's kissing him back, her free hand pulling him closer by his singlet. Finally, he breaks away for air, resting his forehead against hers and opening his eyes reluctantly. Hers are still shut and her hands are still shaking.

'Still hurt?' he asks softly. She manages a hoarse chuckle, her breath ghosting over his lips.

'Not so much anymore,' she admits. 'But still. I'd like some painkillers.'

'Fitzsimmons will be at your service the minute they know you're in the world of the living again,' informs Ward. Skye rolls her eyes but neither of them have pulled away from each other, their foreheads still touching, their eyes locked, their lips inches apart.

'What are we doing?' she asks in barely a whisper.

'Something probably very ill-advised,' Ward answers. He hesitates for a moment before leaning in again. She meets him halfway, their lips crashing together again and he can't help but smile at her slightly muffled giggle.

They're interrupted by an exasperated exclamation of 'For God's sake!' coming from the doorway. The spring apart, Ward scrambling to his feet, dread settling in the base of his stomach as he sees Coulson standing there, arms folded, eyebrows raised.

'Aw crap,' mutters Skye.

'Look, sir – ' Ward begins but he really doesn't know what he's going to say because he can't say it doesn't mean anything because it does ...

'First Barton and Romanoff, now you two,' sighs Coulson over exaggeratedly.

'Barton and Romanoff are romantically involved?' Ward echoes, although it really doesn't surprise him because the two are basically one person split in half.

'Um... who are Barton and Romanoff?' Skye brings up, eyes shooting between the two agents.

'Hawk Eye and the Black Widow,' Ward replies, still keeping his gaze worriedly on Coulson.

'What – you mean from the Avengers? Are you serious? They're together?'

'Sir, about this ... ' Ward tries again but Coulson raises one hand to silence him.

'Can I talk to you outside, Ward?'

Ward inwardly groans. Well shit. He doesn't look at Skye, afraid of the look he'll find on her face. Instead, he follows Coulson out of the room and shuts the door behind them, slowly turning to face his boss.

'I'm not going to do anything,' Coulson says surprisingly. 'As long as you can continue a professional S.O. - rookie partnership, I won't intervene. Barton and Romanoff are two of our best agents and nobody would ever think of splitting them up, even if their relationship did come into question.'

Ward opens his mouth but no words come out.

'Relationships between agents are against SHIELD regulations however,' continues Coulson. 'Clint and Natasha have known each other for years and been on countless missions together. They've saved each others' lives time and time again and been in situations that creates a bond that no other two people could come close to. I'm just going to bring up the fact that you barely know Skye. I know you care about her and I know that you feel that her current injured state is your fault. Whether or not you think you can continue a strictly professional role as her S.O. while you two have a relationship on the side, I'm going to leave that up to you.'

He makes a move to leave but Ward grabs his arm.

'Sir,' he says, confused. 'You wouldn't normally let this happen. I've seen you break apart romantic relationships that you've found on bases all the time.'

Coulson's lips curve upwards in a small smile. 'I haven't seen you let anybody into your life in all the time you've been at SHIELD, Grant,' he says. 'And Skye needs somebody that she knows she can trust. Especially after that blowup with Miles.'

Ward can't help the jealousy and fury that sparks within him at the mention of Miles but he can't make anything of it because Coulson is already walking away and Ward knows that he already needs to go back in and face Skye. The moment he's in the room, she's bombarding him with questions.

'Are you fired? Am I fired? Is May my S.O. now? Are we screwed? Am I getting kicked off the bus? Are you getting kicked off the bus? Also – do you have Romanoff's phone number because she has the coolest suit – '

'No, no, no, no, no, no and no,' Ward interrupts, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. 'Coulson's not taking any measures against us. He says whether or not we think we can keep a professional S.O.- rookie partnership as well as a romantic relationship is up to us.'

'Nobody said anything about a relationship...' Skye says slowly. 'Yes, we kissed but ...'

'Yeah, I know, I know, that's what I was thinking,' Ward agrees, running his fingers through his hair. 'Look, I'm not saying forever, but ... for now ... do you want to forget about this? You recover and then we'll finish your training and then we'll just see where things go.'

Skye nods. 'Yeah. Sounds good.'

Ward feels an enormous flood of relief wash through him. Which is accompanied by a sting. He ignored it. 'Okay. Good. I'll go find Fitzsimmons to grab you some painkillers and you need to take it easy for a while. Do you want anything, like food or water ...?'

Skye shakes her head. 'No ... no, I'm alright. Thank you.'

'Goodnight Skye.'

'Night Ward.'

He's about to get to his feet when he's suddenly pulled back down to the bed and her arms are around his neck and his are resting on her hips and he's kissing her again and no, no, no, dammit this isn't the plan.

'Skye, I thought we agreed – ' he murmurs against her lips.

'Yeah, I know,' she answers, weaving her fingers through his hair. 'Just one last time for good luck.'

'Good luck?'

'Shut up, take the compliment that I just wanted to kiss you again okay?'

'Taken.'

'Are you gonna go get Fitzsimmons?'

'Not when you're sitting on me.'

'Do you want me to move?'

'Not particularly.'

She laughs, cut off by his mouth catching hers again and Ward feels a tight, breathlessness in his chest and a warm happiness in his stomach. She's alive, she's laughing, she's kissing him, she's covered in injuries but she's beautiful anyway and he loves her so much that –

Everything in his head goes quiet and Ward yanks himself away from her.

'What?' she asks, furrowing her eyebrows. She's breathing heavily, her arms are still looped around his neck and her eyes are gazing at him with a look that knocks every last breath out of him.

'I better go find the others,' he says quickly, slipping off the bed and darting out of the room.

He loves her.

Shit.

– FIN –