Some Day That Will Never Come
It was surprisingly cold that day.
When Grant Ward stepped out into the crisp winter air from his prison where he was held for the past 2 years, he thought he would never see the light of day again, let alone be released. He hesitantly took a deep breath – the brisk, cold air left a harsh mark on his lungs as he walked out of the gates of the detention center and back into the real world.
The detention center is located tens of miles away from any connection to civilization, and without anyone coming to pick him up—he doesn't expect anyone to, since the fall of HYDRA 1 year earlier. And he was definitely sure that no one from SHIELD would even bother to contact him again. There was no need, especially after his arrest and him spilling all HYDRA secrets to them in the numerous, torturous interrogations. Or was there?
He wasn't sure how he was released; he was pretty sure he would be stuck in that prison for years to come. Still, somehow, only a day earlier, two guards came in and threw a bag in his face, and that's when his journey began.
(flashback)
He hardly flinched when the packed, small duffle bag collided with his face before falling to the stone floor. Ward looked up, a confused expression on his face.
"Get up," the first burly guard ordered. "Get changed."
He remained silent and glanced down at the bag, still not making a move.
The second guard stalked over slowly, grabbed the bag, and shoved it into Ward's lap. Glaring, he repeated, "Get, changed."
As soon as the guards noticed he started to take the contents of the bag out, they left and shut the door. Ward was even more puzzled as he pulled out a bunch of clothes –HIS clothes, for that matter, ones that he used to wear when he was on the Bus.
Oh, the Bus. So many memories. But who? How?
He put on the first set of clothes he found. It was complete with his favorite sported leather jacket, crew shirt, and black jeans.
Like clockwork, as soon as he finished dressing, the two guards came back in. Ward opened his mouth about to ask, but the first guard got to it first.
"An official decided that you need to serve your sentence out of this place. No walls, no guards, just yourself. As I quote him, 'Your torture, it will be internal'."
He knew that only one man could've—would've spoken those words. Coulson. But why? All of HYDRA's secrets were revealed, all the ones he knew, at least. So…what else was there?
(end flashback)
Ward continues trudging along the cold path for hours, with his mind now constantly on one thing. One thing since his release—one person, rather.
Skye.
I wonder what she's doing now, he thought. How is she doing? Is she getting training by May? Is she still with SHIELD, what's left of it?
He mentally slapped himself. I have no right be concerned for her well-being, since I endangered her well-being.
His mind went back to a flashback of his last memory of her.
(flashback)
His was cuffed, bloodied, and bruised as he silently listens to Coulson promising his torture for the rest of his life. His voice was robbed of him [which to this present day has returned only with some husky roughness, only with intensive rounds of personal therapy as prison medical treatment was only mediocre], but he didn't have a heart to listen intently anyways. His attention shifted to Skye, who was coming in from behind Coulson of the compound hangars, with the same look of anger and sadness on her face. It was only minutes earlier that he had aimed a gun at her—he never intended to harm her nor shoot her, but inside some sick, twisted logic, he wished he could've just obeyed his orders and have her for himself.
He tried his best to not look at her, though he knew that her attention was on him. All he wanted to do was to run over to her and explain why he did what he did, to make her understand why he had no choice but to follow through with his orders…no. It was more, why was he was too weak [Skye's words] to realize what hell he was put through by going against her…them.
(end flashback)
He would've given anything to reverse time, to go back and undo all the crimes he's committed. He wished he could've gone straight to Coulson from week 1 in joining the team and tell him he was from HYDRA and that he wanted out from HYDRA permanently. He was sick of the killing for the debts he owed, though he couldn't shake off the feelings of indebtedness ever. Perhaps Coulson would've helped him somehow in repaying the debts to Garrett—or, the debts he thought he owed Garrett—without having to hurt the people he's grown attached to: the team. To Skye.
Perhaps she and he could then truly be together, and there would be no lies, no going back—only a happy future. In that future they would fight for justice—ha, justice—together side by side, hand in hand. He would protect her, and she would have his back too. They would settle down, get married, and start a family together. Where there were no orders from above except from what they decide to do together themselves. If only he could reverse time. Maybe if he can see her again, he can finally explain. He can finally tell her his whole story, and she will understand. It's good to hope, right?
I will make it right, he thought. Someday, I'll find her, and I'll explain it all to her. Someday—let that 'someday' come soon…
These thoughts circulated his head for hours as he finally made it to the edge of a neighboring town. It was now sunny, and the weather has warmed up from the chilling temperatures from earlier. It seemed fitting in a way – the coldness of the air seemed nothing compared to the numbness he felt in his heart whenever he thought about her, and team that made him forget that he was HYDRA all the times he spent with them. How much simpler and warmer those days were, but those days were long gone. Grant Ward had nowhere to go except forward.
It's with those steps that he continues walking for another hour through this town called Awakening, a little town that had a charming south eastern look. Brick buildings were everywhere, and the landscape was laced with rolling green hills and luscious evergreen trees. It was a very peaceful town, no hustle and bustle of a large metropolitan city. Mothers and children were slowly walking through the sidewalks and shops, couples sitting outside tea parlors enjoying the day. Frills and lovely, colorful ornaments decorated certain store fronts, and pots of greenery were planted along the edges of the street dividers. Everything screamed life and calm. Just like Skye, he thought.
He kept walking until he reached a tiny hillside, where he noticed a somewhat sizable crowd of people were standing. It was about 3pm by his estimation, and the sun was hovering right over the area. All the people were dressed in black, which was a stark contrast to the colorful streets he passed through earlier. He realized it was a memorial service, and he was about to avert his eyes to walk on, until he noticed a specific group in front of the crowd.
It was May, Fitz, Simmons, Trip, and Coulson.
Ward blinked his eyes for a bit and halted in the direction he was walking. What are they doing here, of all places?
Then, the realization hit him hard in the gut.
Skye.
There's no Skye. Where is she?
No, no, please no…
He started walking quickly down the hillside as stealthily as possible to look closer and listen; there's got to be a mistake. Maybe she's handling surveillance off in the distance somewhere? Maybe she left SHIELD? Maybe—
"We are gathered here today, to say good bye to our courageous, beautiful friend—Skye…" Maria Hill's voice sounded from the distance.
That did it. Ward halted in his tracks, stumbled and collapsed on his knees. Breaths were coming at a shallow and rapid rate and he struggled to breathe. No, he could not believe it. No! It can't be…Skye's…dead…HOW? WHY?
"Her life was tragically cut short in the wake of saving others," Hill continued. "In a heroic attempt, she saved all the children from the St. Agnes Orphanage from a surprise bombing attack from by lone HYDRA fugitives."
Ward choked on that statement. He thought he was going to be sick. HYDRA? Didn't that get disbanded a year ago? Who else is out there? Why would they attack an ORPHANAGE of all places?
"From St. Agnes herself, Skye filled the role of a big sister to so many of these children beautifully. Such selfless acts of bravery are only some of her many courageous actions in her lifetime to help others. Putting others first, was her dogma." Hill's voice was starting to crack.
He stared harder at the scene below him. The solemn faces of the people at the service were now marred with tears and tissues. He could see Fitz and Simmons embracing each other as they wept, while May slipped on her sunglasses, probably trying to hide the tears that were forming in her eyes too. Trip held his head low, and Coulson just stared ahead to the casket.
Skye. Skye. Always thinking of others, he thought, bitterly. Never herself. Always letting things roll off her back for her, but taking others' matters so seriously. Why Skye, why were you there—
He couldn't hold it in any longer. Tears built in the corners of his eyes fell, and he didn't stop them. He couldn't and wouldn't stop them. Skye is gone. His Skye, his bubbly junior, is gone. It was a disturbance of natural order to life without her. She was supposed to live on and continue fighting alongside SHIELD to rebuild it, always the survivor, always the smartass charming her way through life. She was supposed to be the colorful, life-filled girl that could only spread cheer from her presence.
"It was Quinn."
Ward briefly halted his sobs as he looked up to see the source of the voice.
Coulson.
Somehow, some time had passed for Coulson who was suddenly down at the front of the service, to now his side. Ward looked back down at the crowd below. The crowds were slowly making their way to pay their final respects to the casket, one by one. Coulson must've taken that chance to come up here. It wasn't that Ward was trying very hard to stay hidden, anyways.
"What?"
"It was Quinn," Coulson repeated, stepping closer to him as Ward slowly stood up. "He wanted his revenge. The Gravitonium he had in his possession was used to harness a power that could eliminate scores of people and weapons in his way at once, to make it an ultimate weapon. He wanted his revenge against us from stopping him before in his compound and mansion."
Through his tears, Ward burned with anger. That sick bastard. As if shooting Skye wasn't enough, and he has to go and try and kill a whole orphanage of kids, just to test his weapon? "I—I'm so sorry—"
Coulson grabbed Ward's shirt and threatened a menacing glare into Ward's eyes. These were not the eyes of the once calm, forgiving man he once knew. "Don't even, Grant Ward," he hissed. "I don't care if you knew or didn't know about this attack. You've taken a member of my team/family away from me, and I will NEVER let you forget it. HYDRA or not, you have as much ties to this murder as Quinn and the next rotting son of a bitch agent in the cell next to you. YOU. KILLED. HER."
I killed her, he thought. He never felt so destroyed in his life than this moment. HYDRA killed her. I was HYDRA, I killed her, I killed her…
"This is just the beginning, Ward," Coulson repeated. "I promised you, your torture would be internal. I can see that it has already started."
Ward didn't even both to fight off the tightening grip Coulson had on him—he felt too limp from devastation to the mantra he kept repeating in his head. I killed her, I killed her…
"I let you out from that cell of yours so you could come and see for yourself, the cost of what it meant to be part of HYDRA," Coulson continued. "You see now? The girl who you claimed to care about and have feelings for? Dead by your former organization's hand. You have the rest of your life to be haunted with this fact, as well as the many other lives you and HYDRA have taken. Think about it on your way back to the cell."
As he finished that sentence, he saw 4 heavily armed agents walk up behind Coulson, with rifles ready. Coulson released Ward's shirt and he dropped to the ground, panting heavily. The agents dragged him to his feet and cuffed his hands, holding him in place to watch Coulson leave.
Coulson paused in his steps back toward the memorial site and turned to Ward, stating, "Welcome to hell."
Ward couldn't agree more. The tears returned, not because of him knowing he's being whisked back to prison after only briefly tasting freedom, but because the one word that escapes his lips.
Skye.
That "someday" will never come for him.
THE END