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They were coming. An army of footfalls surrounded them, some friendly, most not. Ward cupped Skye's face in his hands, resting his forehead against hers with a pained expression on his face.

"Go. I promise you, I will find a way out of this, we will be together again. But right now you have to leave."

Skye had tears running down her cheeks, shaking her head in denial.

"No, I'll talk to Coulson, he'll fix this."

"How? Believe me, he won't. Not even for you. Now you need to go. Leave, Skye!"

Suddenly the door to the hotel suite burst open. Two men led the charge, one with a buzz cut, the other slightly balding. Skye knew the older one quite well.

Coulson had his gun drawn, pointing it at Ward. It didn't matter how much she tried to explain, the man wouldn't believe her when she said he wasn't a traitor. She clung to Grant for a few more seconds, trying desperately to stay by his side, but she recognized Bobbi's strong hands when they began to pull her away. Melinda holstered her weapon and helped when Skye began to scream and claw.

"No, no please! Please, you can't do this! Don't hurt him! You can't take him away! Please! I'm carrying his child! You can't do this to us! Coulson, stop this!"

Both agents restraining her momentarily froze, glancing at the Director. When he showed no signs of reconsideration, they pushed a needle into her neck, and she fell unconscious. They then carried her out of the room and into the waiting aircraft.

Coulson watched as Ward was ordered to his knees, his face a complex mixture of fear, sadness, confusion, and joy. His movements were slow, as if he were trapped in a daze, even when Rick Martin slapped cuffs around his wrists and yanked him to his feet. The Hydra agents followed their leader out of the hotel, leaving Coulson, Hunter, and Mack to clean up.

Phil lowered his gun, staring out the window as Ward was herded into an armored vehicle and taken away. He rubbed his eyes.

The two other agents were already trying to tidy up. There wasn't too much damage, but they would still be getting a bill from the hotel.

"I'm gonna have to admit, I didn't see the baby thing coming," Mack stated.

"What, you think she made it up?" Hunter asked in response.

"Oh no. Looking back, I can definitely see a change in behavior and eating habits. She's been chowing down on pickles the past few weeks. Ate almost an entire jar in one sitting the other night."

Lance straightened with an incredulous look on his face. "And that didn't clue you in immediately? We gotta get you out of the garage more, mate."

As they continued to chatter in the background, Coulson meandered into the bedroom, looking for anything, really. He gave the room a quick once over before beginning to open drawers, the one in the bedside table making his chest tighten when he saw what it contained.

Inside the drawer was a piece of paper and a photo in an ornate frame. The director picked up the photo and studied it.

Ward and Skye looked into each other's eyes while they held hands. The hacker was wearing a pretty little white dress, and her boyfriend had a suit on. The background had been blurred out, but it looked like they were in a church.

The paper was a marriage certificate, signed in the city they were in, and the witnesses names were Becca Thompson and Laurent Delaney. Coulson noted them to research later, trying to ignore the regret that was clawing at his gut.

"We're pretty much good out here, so whenever you're ready," said Hunter, poking his head into the room. When Coulson didn't move, he raised an eyebrow and walked over to him.

"May thirtieth. Hm, I always pictured Skye as more of a winter bride. But I guess we owe her a happy six-months when she wakes up, eh?"

"That's why they were meeting. Hunter, if you say anything to her about this, you will be immediately released from the organization."

Coulson continued to stare at the paper, then pinched the bridge of his nose.

"'What God hath joined let no man separate...' What have I done?"

The room was silent as Phil carefully packed the certificate and photo into a briefcase.

A few minutes later the ritzy hotel was fading below them as they flew. Skye stirred and began to wake up, but Coulson gently pushed more sedative into her veins.

"Not yet, sweetheart," he said, bending down and placing a kiss on her forehead. "I'm so, so sorry."

~ One Week Later ~

Skye's eyelids fluttered open. The room she was in was illuminated by a dim, bluish light. There were no windows, save for the tiny rectangle on the door, and medical equipment surrounded her, an IV in her wrist and monitors on her chest and stomach. A nurse was at the foot of her bed, scribbling on a clipboard, giving the girl a nod before she left. Skye tried to remember how she'd ended up there.

When the memories did come back, she leaned over and vomited into the pail next to her, tears beginning to pour down her cheeks. They'd made it six months. That was it. Six months as husband and wife, and they'd seen each other for maybe three weeks of it, a majority of that their honeymoon.

She puked again, then grabbed the tall cup of water that had been left for her on the end table and guzzled it, trying to quiet the sobs that tore through her. She knew they were watching, why give them a show?

Suddenly she felt it. A small movement, like a nudge from inside. A kick.

Skye gave a small gasp and placed a hand on her slightly swollen stomach. Another nudge, this one a bit stronger. She laughed, tears of sadness now mixed with tears of joy.

"It's okay honey, mommy loves you. It's gonna be alright, I promise. Everything will be alright."

:

Elsewhere, Ward smiled as he thought of his wife and the child she carried, his wrists locked at his sides. He wondered whether it would be a boy or a girl, which led him to begin thinking of names. Suddenly fire flooded through him, yanking him into reality.

They weren't going to kill him. Hydra was cruel, but they weren't wasteful. If he could fool them into believing he'd returned to them, (though he'd never really been loyal to them,) perhaps he could find a way to get back to Skye. It would buy him time at the very least.

As more fire coursed through him, Grant prayed to whatever God was listening, begging it to let him live. He began to fall unconscious, his last thought a vision of Skye with a newborn in her arms, smiling as the infant curled its tiny fingers through the air.

His eyes closed, and he smiled.

So... Not even sure where this came from, but its not too cringe-worthy, And I hope you liked it! I will not, however, be making a sequel or prequel, this is a stand-alone fic. Use your imagination to fill in the blanks! Although CIA Ward is still alive in my head, maybe he's not in yours. Have fun!