It's been so long since I attempted to write a long(ish) fic and it's my first time really writing a canon compliant skye/ward fic, so any kind of feedback is greatly appreciated and guaranteed to be a inspiration/motivation booster. okay, without further ado.. enjoy.
chapter i - pull the blackout curtains down (just not for long)
Her heart beats excitedly against her ribcage, sending tremors through her whole body.
Skye can feel her pulse in her fingertips, her toes, her lips, everywhere.
The ground beneath her rumbles in time with her every heartbeat and the only thing Skye feels is exhilaration.
She feels amazing. There's a new kind of awareness flowing through her veins and she feels strong.
But then her eyes land on Trip.
Her heart stutters, and the world follows it's pace.
Watching Trip's body break apart, breaks something in Skye, too.
—
Her sobs shake her body and the ground.
The debris falling from the ceiling is getting bigger and harder to ignore.
And Skye forms her first clear thought: I need to get out of here.
—
And that's what she does.
Skye runs.
Because she's good at that.
Running away.
Leaving a mess behind.
Every breath rattles on it's way out.
It burns, but Ward keeps on breathing.
He doesn't really know why he does though. It would be so easy to just let the darkness claim him.
He knows his body, knows his limits. He knows he has reached it.
But he also knows himself.
He's a fighter. No matter what life threw at him, he survived. And this time he will, too.
Ward decided in that damn cell, he wasn't ready to die and he isn't going to change his mind now.
—
Somewhere, deep in his mind, he hears the words if the job was easy.. but he pushes them away.
No.
He isn't doing this for him. Or her.
This is his own damn life and the only person he owes it to stay alive is himself.
So, Ward takes another breath, embracing the pain it brings, it grounds him and he opens his eyes.
And what he finds is May. No, not May. Agent 33.
He doesn't think long, he's doesn't need to. Ward has already found his way out of here and he will be damned if he lets this opportunity pass by.
—
And if the lost look in her eyes makes him feel something, he doesn't dwell on it.
Skye finds May first.
May asks what happened, asks for Coulson and then for Trip.
That's when the tears come.
"It's not your fault." May says and Skye wants to believe her.
But she remembers the horror she felt and she remembers calling out for him. Asking him to help.
Whatever he did to help her, it cost him his life.
Skye is the only one to blame.
—
May guides her to a med team, ordering her to stay put.
"But Coulson-" Skye protests, but May cuts her off. "I'll find him."
And with that she hurries off, leaving Skye in the hands of people she has never seen before.
—
Her minds wanders off as the med team treats her injuries. May said, Coulson had gone down into the city after her. What if Coulson, like Trip, died for her?
The thought makes her stomach lurch and the ground rumbles once in reply.
There's a gentle pushing and prodding on her left shoulder and Skye decides, she's had enough. They shouldn't be wasting time with cleaning her cuts or stitching up wounds, that aren't even remotely life-threatening.
Every person here should be looking for Coulson.
She pushes the person hunched over her away. It's a simple move, her hand on his shoulder, her grip just tight enough to ensure that he moves away.
But the result makes Skye's heart stutter.
She feels it, before she's aware of what is happening. A tingling sensation flows from her hand to the shoulder she's gripping.
There's a connection, she can feel another heartbeat through her fingers and she can feel how the tingling sensation leaves her own body and goes into his.
And then he coughs. Once, twice. He doesn't manage to do it a third time.
His heart stops. Or rather, it explodes. And he crumbles to the ground.
Skye's hand is still outstretched. "I'm sorry." She says, her voice shaky.
And Skye takes off again.
And this time her goal isn't to find her team, but to get away from them.
As far as it is humanly possible.
—
Words, from long ago, echo in her mind as she runs.
You love to stir things up.
But you're never around for the fallout.
Skye only runs faster.
Grant Ward isn't bothered by pain.
Well, he is but if he has to choose between pain and death or incarceration or something equally terrifying, he'll choose pain. Gladly.
So, when Agent 33 tells him that they have no pain killers whatsoever, Ward only shrugs.
"Just stitch me up." He tells her, hating how wounded he sounds.
He would do it himself, but his wounds are on his side and reaching them would be near impossible.
Agent 33 is quick in her movements, sure. She cleans his wounds, threads the needle, holds his skin together and stitches him up.
Ward doesn't close his eyes, if he does, he might fall asleep and that's the last thing he wants to do.
—
As it turns out, it happens anyway.
—
When Ward wakes up, he's lying on a bed. The covers are pulled up, tucked neatly under his chin and there's a bottle of water on the nightstand.
He remembers dimly, that they checked into a motel and berates himself for letting his guard down so easily.
But then again, the look Agent 33 gave him makes it clear, that she isn't trying to kill him or harm him in any other way.
She wants him to keep his promise. Figure it out.
He sits up slowly, taking in the room and noticing that he's alone.
The sound of running water, though, tells him Agent 33 is in the bathroom.
—
Grimacing at the pain, he reaches over to grab the water bottle.
Before his fingers can curl around the plastic however, he sees that the water is rippling softly.
He frowns. Earthquakes in Puerto Rico isn't much of a stretch, but since a group of people is trying to enter an alien city, he assumes the earthquake's cause isn't natural.
Ward checks the time and decides that watching the news may be the best thing he can do right now.
The building Hydra had been occupying has collapsed due to a series of earthquakes. Ward bites his lip, forcing himself not to think about who he left in there.
It's impossible.
He can't help but wonder if Skye has made it out alive.
—
And after he lets that thought take it's course, it's like he has torn down a wall in his mind.
Skye shot him. Took the gun, aimed and shot. Four times.
He is angry. Angry at Skye for shooting him, when he was just trying to help. Angry at himself for lowering his guard and giving her the opportunity to do it. Angry at Raina for saying the words he hadn't dared to think much less say out loud.
It's love.
He grits his teeth, when the shower cuts off and he hears Agent 33 moving around in the bathroom.
Love. Love. Love. Love. Love.
Ward closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and holding onto it.
This isn't the time to dwell on feelings. He can't, not when he is injured, not when he isn't sure what Agent 33 expects him to do.
—
He opens his eyes and releases the breath he's been holding in.
Licking his wounds in peace will have to wait. Thinking about Skye will have to wait.
However, Skye has this annoying knack of sneaking up on him. Even in his thoughts.
When her body grows tired, Skye hot wires a car.
It's easy to fall back into old patterns.
And for a while, driving down a dark, lonely highway, it feels like she has never joined S.H.I.E.L.D.
Like she never got shot. Like she never killed anyone. Like she never fell in love.
The only thing that makes it impossible for her to imagine that she's still the girl living in her van, is the tingling in her veins.
—
She's aware of everything around her. Feels the car's vibrations and how the road beneath her reacts to it.
And she knows, knows that this is something she can never, ever ignore.
It's pure power pulsing through her. Like someone took her blood and replaced it with something new. Something better.
If only that something better didn't kill people.
—
Her hands grip the wheel so hard, her knuckles turn white.
Skye feels lost. Feels like she's sixteen and running from the orphanage all over again.
Only this time, it's harder.
The orphanage never felt like home.
The nuns never felt like family.
But S.H.I.E.L.D. did.
The team did.
Skye lets herself imagine how she turns the car around, calls Coulson, or May, asks them to come pick her up, explains what happened down there.
She lets herself imagine how Coulson pulls her into his arms and tells her that everything will be okay. That none of this is her fault. That they will find a way to fix her.
She knows, that won't happen.
Trip is dead. The guy who tended to her wounds is dead. And Ward..
Skye closes her eyes, willing the thought to stop.
—
Only the vibrations coming from the ground alert her to what is going on. Opening her eyes again, she sees the truck coming straight towards her.
In her panic, all she can to is jerk the wheel left as hard as she can.
Her hot wired car drives off the highway, tumbles, and then everything is happening too fast for her to follow.
The only thing Skye hears is that sound of metal on metal and her own pulse drumming against her ears.
It's in the middle of the night, when Agent 33 finally speaks up. "How are you feeling?"
Ward only grunts in response. The tv is running, the sound muted. He can't help himself, he keeps watching as the death toll rises.
They have been holed up in this room for eight hours and Ward is beginning to feel uncomfortable. "We should go." He says, not bothering to look over to his companion.
"Where?" She asks immediately.
Ward shrugs, the movement pulling at his stitches.
The pain reminds him of Skye.
"Anywhere." He says and stands up.
His movements are sluggish and Agent 33 is by his side in an instant, ready to catch him should he loose his balance.
"Grab your things, let's go." Ward says.
—
They steal a car.
Ward makes himself comfortable, or as comfortable as he can be, in the passenger seat.
Agent 33 throws him a questioning look. "Where are we going?"
"It's your choice." Ward says and her eyes widen.
He can't help but smile at that. He isn't sure if it shows on his face though.
Agent 33 starts the car and they're off.
—
Ward turns on the radio after about twenty minutes.
It's better than to sit in silence and try to beat down the thoughts that are threatening to overwhelm him.
Agent 33 drives them down a deserted highway and the only other car they encounter is a truck.
—
Half an hour passes, until they see something else.
Headlights. But they aren't shining from the other side of the road. The car is turned over, on the side of the road.
Agent 33 slams the brakes, causing Ward to grip the dashboard.
And she's out of the car, before Ward has time to ask her what the hell?
He follows her at a slower pace and watches as she squats down next to the car.
—
"Hey, you okay?" She asks, the slight mechanical voice sounding worried.
Ward hears a cough in response and a groan.
It's distinctly familiar and his heart clenches.
He walks as fast as he can, holding onto his side.
Agent 33 has opened the door and is reaching into the car.
"Put your hands on the roof." She instructs calmly. "I'm going to unbuckle your seatbelt, okay?"
From where he is standing, Ward can only see her hair. But it's enough.
—
"Skye." He breathes and she turns her head at the sound.
There's blood tickling down the side of her face.
Along with tears.
"Y-you're alive." She stutters and then she laughs. "I thought you were dead. Like the others."
—
No matter how hard he tries to forget her, Skye always finds a way to sneak up on him.
He had been stupid to think this time would be different.
A/N: cross-posted on ao3 under the same pen name. come find me on tumblr.
story and chapter title are from fall out boy - immortals.
Reviews are like Ward staring at Skye after Raina dropped the L-bomb, not caring about Whitehall or all the HYDRA soldiers around him.