The shot rings out loud in the thick, smoldering air. He hears it at the same time that he feels it. The hit is right where it belongs. Grant Ward doesn't hear anything else. All he hears is the blood as it pumps through his heart. He hears himself gasp and cry out in pain. He feels defeated as he slumps to the ground with his back against the exterior wall of an abandoned building in the middle of nowhere, finally understanding on some revealing level just how John Garrett felt when he wanted to cheat death. Ward knows just from looking where it hit that he doesn't have a lot of time left, but he knows he has enough time to know his fate while it's happening; he isn't going to come back from this one.
Her voice is the only thing that brings him out of the fog. He looks ahead of Skye and sees she is heading straight for the same building he tried to enter before he was forced to take cover and then ultimately shot. It's almost enough to make him smile; they at least partially trusted him.
Ward knew Shield would get his message about Raina's whereabouts and want to take her out. It was Skye's personal mission after what happened to Trip, and Ward saw it as his personal mission to undo as much of the damage he caused after letting Garrett brainwash him. It took months, but he finally was able to admit he was brainwashed. That's why he spent the better part of six months tracking Raina, her whereabouts, her activities – everything about her. That's why he used this to prove to Skye, Coulson and the entire team that he was a changed man. That he wanted to be the Ward they remembered. He feels the ground tremble just once before he sees Raina emerge from the rubble. Ward knows what will happen next. After all, he'd just met the same fate.
With his fading will, he forces his gun to aim at the sniper overhead. Letting out a shot in that direction, he buys Skye just enough time as the man takes cover. Her eyes don't move away from Raina, and he sees her eyes focus in a way he'd never witnessed when he was her SO. His breathing is shallow as he watches Raina fall to the ground. Dead.
"I outlived you after all," he whispers, but he knows very well it won't be much longer before he comes to meet the same fate.
The shivering is coming along nicely. It overtakes his body, and as Skye looks to where the shot came from, she looks like she has no idea what to do at first. His eyes close, and he can't move even as he hears the building housing the sniper crumble to the ground. It's getting colder, but it warms up with surprise as Skye's hands reach his.
"Ward," she whispers. Her voice reminds him of the last rose before winter, standing out with a brilliant shade of crimson as the colors of the world drain into the bland pallet of grays and whites and blacks.
He opens his eyes to see the tears forming in her eyes. Her hands are shaking, or maybe that's his. Either way, he can barely manage the breath that comes to his lungs. His hand goes to her face, and for the first time in a long time she doesn't shy away from him.
"We're going to get out of here," she tells him. "We just have to get you up."
She tries to gather him in her arms, but it only does more damage. He lets out a sound of pain. Ward shakes his head, gripping her fingers with his. Tears are in his eyes, too, as he wipes away hers.
"No," he tells her. "Just sit here with me."
"Please, Ward," Skye tells him. He knows she's holding it together really well considering the circumstances. "If it weren't for you…"
His finger is on her lip to stop her.
"Consider a last shot at redemption."
This makes more sobs come from Skye, and she pulls him closer to her. He can feel the world starting to fade. His breathing is shallow. There's nothing left to do now but give up. Unfortunately, Skye has pulled him up and put an arm around her shoulders. Still disobeying him.
"You listen to me," she tells him, grunting from the effort. "You don't get to die like this. You get to die whenever I say so. I won't let you go without a fight!"
Ward smiles as they half walk, half stumble the last of the distance he can manage. He falls to his knees with Skye beside him.
"Skye," he whispers. "I don't want to spend the last little bit I have fighting."
"Well too freaking bad!" Skye yells at him. "On your feet!"
She's desperate. He's heard that edge in people's voices before when they were losing someone they cared about. He just never thought he would hear her voice like this. About him. Ward can't feel his legs anymore, and he feels the warm breeze that comes from the jet engines. There's no telling what fate awaits him in there, but he knows what awaits when he dies. It's not pleasant, but it's his.
"Tell Coulson I finally figured out what kind of man I want to be without Garrett," he tells her.
"You can tell him yourself, Ward," she whispers. Her hands cradle his face and pull him into her. "Please don't leave me, Grant. I still want this."
Her voice is so soft and trembling with fear, but he hears it over the engines. The cargo bay doors are opening, and all he can do is sit on his knees while he feels the blood, energy and life draining from him. Ward closes his eyes as he feels other hands on him, pulling him away from Skye as she barks orders to them.
The last thing he hears is Skye's voice. It's saying his name. Screaming it, even. He can't feel it, but she's telling him to squeeze her hand and come back to her. He hears Fitz and Simmons, and he even hears other voices he doesn't recognize. But the only one he focuses on is Skye. His eyes open when it gets quiet, and he notices the room starting to fade away around her. But then it pauses, turns to a frozen moment in time. There is no sound. There is…nothing.
Ward finds he's able to move without pain. It's like nothing happened. Confused, he raises himself from the table and tries to touch Skye. He does, but she doesn't budge. She's warm, too. It's like the moment really is frozen in time. The others are frozen, too. Simmons looks like she might throw up. Fitz has a look on his face like he's afraid. Coulson isn't looking at Ward; he's paying attention to Skye. And May? May mostly looks like she always does, but Ward thinks he sees something like pity maybe mixed with some regret etched deep inside her eyes. It's Skye that he wants to read the most, though. He wants to tell her he's okay. That he doesn't want to leave her again.
"Welcome to death," a rugged voice says behind him. Ward turns around to see an old man who looks like he just jumped from the pages of some Western book he used to read when he was a kid.
"So I am dead?" he asks.
"Only if you want to be," the man says.
"And if I don't?" Ward makes a stand deliberately between the cowboy and the team. The cowboy has a smirk on his face when Ward replies.
"Then don't be," he says. "This offer only happens because someone around here thinks your soul is worth it."
Holding out a long piece of paper, the cowboy takes a long drag at a cigarette in his mouth. All Ward can do is smell the fumes of sulfur. They try to choke him, but he resists. Always resisting and fighting back. He coughs at the smoke running towards him.
"Can you put that out?" Ward asks through a cough.
"Don't like smoke?" The cowboy chuckles. Even his laugh sounds rough, like dry rope rubbing together on a boat. "You better get over that."
"Who are you?" Ward asks.
"Consider me your handler from now on," the man says. This makes Ward worry. He's had a handler before, and he's not sure he's willing to go back to the days when Garrett told him what to do. It was easier, but it was also the reason he lost everything, including himself. The cowboy obviously sees it, because he finishes with a raised eyebrow and flippant attitude. "Don't worry. You'll still have your freedom to be part of the old team, but when I call you for something you better make that your number one priority. Your friends will more than likely understand. Heck, they may even help seeing how they seem to be set on making sure the world doesn't end."
Ward watches him with furrowed brows.
"Just call me Carter." The cowboy finally tosses his cigarette down, and he stomps it out with his dusty, dark brown leather boot.
"I'm—" Ward starts, but he doesn't get to finish.
"I know who you are, and I don't care about what you called yourself before," Carter says, taking another drag and blowing the smoke in Ward's direction again. "From now on, when I call you'll answer to Hellfire. Just sign here."
He edges closer to the document, his eyes barely able to make out the letters for all the smoke going into his eyes. The paper isn't real paper. It's more like the letters are written on actual flames. Ward glances up, unsure.
"There's not a pen," he tells Carter.
"No, but there's this." Carter reaches into his worn leather jacket and produces a knife. Its handle is made of a hog's tusk, curving back away from the blade. The blade itself is small but useful. Its edges are worn, but the point is sharp. It looks like a weird pen.
"I'll be able to stay alive, but what's the cost?" Ward asks when he grabs the knife.
"You'll live for as long as you can," Carter says. "You'll be the same person as before, but with a few minor improvements. This contract is good for as long as your heart is beating. You will be able to have the girl and the rest of it. Consider this your last shot at redeeming yourself in the eyes of the world."
Ward stopped listening when he heard he could have Skye. He will be alive. He will be with her for as long as he can stay alive. That's all he's ever wanted. The rest of Carter's words are just minor details.
"I'm not signing my soul over to be some slave, am I?" Ward grips the blade, hard.
"No," Carter tells him. "But it does have a clause in there about if you do die, I have the right to rip you out of your eternity and bring you back for missions should I need you."
Ward nods. The curved tusk doesn't make for comfortable writing, but he has to admit that it looks cool. When it doesn't draw anything on the flaming paper, he glances up with a confused look to Carter. The cowboy takes the blade and slices a cut along the inside of Ward's wrist. Finally, he manages to draw an "H" on it. The blood singes on the blade, and he hands it back to him. Ward takes it, and signs his name to the paper.
"I'll give you a bit to get accustomed to the improvements," Carter tells him. "I'll be seeing ya."
Glancing around, Ward starts to ask more questions, but he's thrown back onto the table. The world speeds up around him. The colors become brighter. The faces become etched in more detail. He can hear things again.
Suddenly, he's back in the land of the living. Surrounded by beeping machines and blood stained gauze. He's familiar with this environment, having spent the better portion of his time in places like this after each mission he was sent on. He feels the wounds as he moves, going over a mental checklist of what does and doesn't hurt. His arms feel like they're on fire, and he feels warm. Ward isn't entirely certain what Carter meant by "improvements" and wonders just what he's signed up for.
But all that disappears.
She's there.
Skye has fallen asleep beside him. Her head rests beside his hand, and though it takes him much longer and requires a lot more effort than it normally does, Ward reaches his hand to stroke her hair. He wants to make sure this is real. It's not a dream. It's not some sick joke. He remembers what she said to him, and he wants nothing more than to tell her everything.
Her head jerks up, and her swollen, red stained face reveals a smile of relief. Ward feels his heart become lighter, and an unmistakable warmth takes over him.
"Grant!" she says. Skye's hands clench his, which burns when the IV needles dig further into his skin. He winces, and she immediately lets go. "You're alive."
She uses his first name. He doesn't even use his first name.
Skye's lips are on his before he can even manage to say anything back. His hands tangle into her hair, pulling her to him. His body stings and aches with bruises and healing holes. But that's the last thing on his mind. She is warm and soft. The world explodes into color as he holds her mouth with his. They suffocate each other with something held back for far too long. It's not long before Ward has to come up for air. His eyes search hers for a moment, and he can feel the sting of tears in his eyes as fresh ones fill hers. He makes a promise to himself that he will be strong enough for her. That he will always be whatever version of himself she needs him to be.
It's when he glances at her face that he notices the "H" is still carved into his wrist. It makes him know everything is real. Ward can't escape the feeling that he's someone's slave. But at the moment, he doesn't care. Skye's eyes are on him, and for the first time in a long time she doesn't have disgust anywhere in her gaze.
That's all he can manage to care about. He's certain he'll have to answer to that scar on his wrist one day, but that's not today. Today, he is all hers.