A/N: Ok, so this is what I wrote for 084 Day over on Tumblr instead of going to bed this morning/last night. It's a little rushed and I made up the mythology on the fly, but this is my favorite theory about Skye's past. Hope you enjoy! :)

(Title is from Jen Titus' O Death)

"Think about it, Skye. It makes sense."

"Shut up! You are a liar. Everything you say is a lie."

Not everything. My feelings for you. They're real. Always have been. He keeps talking anyway.

"You are discovered as a baby, the only survivor of a massacred village. Hardly a coincidence. You show up to the team and Simmons almost dies not that long after. Everyone you've touched since meeting the team has faced life-threatening danger-"

"And I was shot myself!"

He shrugs. "And you survived. Miraculously."

She shakes her head and one hand falls to her abdomen. He closes his eyes for a second, overwhelmed by the memory of blood, so much blood. He opens his eyes and forces himself to keep talking. He doesn't want to remember that.

"Coulson, who died himself and came back, is instinctively drawn to you. Supernaturally so. May and I—well, we're killers-"

"Exactly! And explain to me how that doesn't make you a better candidate for this! I've never killed anyone!"

"Not directly."

She gasps, throwing her hands to her face. He has only seen her this horrified once before. "How dare you! How dare you!"

Monster, monster, won't you come out and play?

He ignores her, a pitying expression on his face. "I'm sorry, Skye. As I was saying, May and I have killed so many people and we're both drawn to you also, in different ways. I think. May doesn't swing that way, at least not that I'm aware."

"If I have killed and endangered everyone that I've come into touch with, then why not you? By all rights, you should be next. You at least deserve to die."

"Life isn't fair, Skye. Besides, you don't mean that."

"I do. Believe me. Never underestimate how much I hate you."

A twitch. A light shrug of his shoulders to pretend he doesn't care. "But you couldn't let me die when you had the chance."

She looks relieved. "That has to mean that I'm not this, not what you say I am. Doesn't it? If you were near me and you didn't die?"

"Death only takes who she wishes, Skye."

She whimpers.

Then, sitting down on the other side of the interrogation table, and burying her head in her arms, she whispers, "What if it's true? What am I going to do? I don't want to kill anyone."

He reaches his hand out to her, but stops just shy of brushing her fingers. "I'm sorry, Skye. I'm so sorry."

He wants to tell her that he'll fix this, whatever it takes, but he doesn't know of anyway to fix telling someone that they are Death Personified.

Then, softly, offering an olive branch he desperately wants her to take: "What do you need me to do?"

"Don't tell the others."

"Ok."

She glances up at him and then a look of horror crosses her face. "The others! Ward, I have to stay away from the others! I'm going to get—I am going to kill them if I stay!"

"Skye," he says, gently, reaching for her.

She jumps back from the table in blind panic. "I can't—they can't die. Ward, what if they die? I have to leave now. I have to go and-"

"Skye. Skye." He stands up, steps forward, is jerked back into place by his shackles. It's infuriating. He wants so badly to take her in his arms and hold her tight, protect her, even if it's only from her mind.

He knows that the shackles aren't the only things keeping her from his arms.

"Skye. Calm down. Look at me. There you go."

She's still shaking and there are tears running down her face. "I need to keep them safe. Tell me how to fix this."

"I—I don't know. Raina wasn't that specific."

Skye's face crumples.

"But, Skye. We're all still here. You've been around all of us for a year and we've had numerous close calls and we've survived. Despite all odds. That has to mean something."

A look of realization dawns on her face.

"What? Skye, what is it?"

She takes a deep breath. "You."

He blinks in surprise. "Me? Me what?"

"You're the counter-balance."

He frowns, confused. Skye stands straight now, no longer shaking, the tears having vanished from her eyes. She's looking more and more relieved.

"No, Ward, think about it. Ying and Yang. For everything there is an opposite. You're mine."

Well, that's certainly true. But he has no idea what she's getting at.

She gives a shaky laugh of relief. "Yes, that's it. Everyone's still alive because of you."

"Excuse me?"

"I am Death; I endanger. You are the opposite; you save."

"I think you're confusing me with someone else. Trip, maybe?"

She is smiling now, a real genuine smile, and he can't remember the last time he saw that.

"I could thwart death for myself, but everyone else? That was all you. You saved Jemma after she jumped out of the Bus. You stood between all of us and bullets and explosions and all kinds of danger so many times. It also explains why Fitzsimmons survived after you pushed them out of the Bus."

He winces; it's something he sees every day, but still tries to forget.

"It should have been fatal, but they survived. Perhaps if I can only take who I want, so you can save who you want."

"You forget; I'm a killer."

"Didn't you once tell me that you only killed bad people?"

He thinks of Koening and of Hand. "I don't know that that's true."

She shrugs. "I am Death Personified and I have never killed anyone, not with my hands. You are Life Personified—man, does that sound cheesy—and you have killed people. Many people. Maybe that's just how it works, Grant."

Maybe. Probably not. But it sure would be nice if it did. He likes the idea of being Life Personified—and Skye's right; that does sound cheesy. He likes the idea of being one who saves, even if he is a killer.

She laughs, a shaky, unsteady sound. "I guess we'll just have to stick together."

His heart begins hammering against his rib cage. Together together together.

He has never wanted anything more.

-end-