Authors' Note - This fic is a collaboration between Silverspoon and Welshwitch1011. After being forced to sit through the AOS DVD boxset and subjected to Silverspoon's constant and borderline obsessive Skyeward chatter, Welshwitch has finally hopped aboard the ship and is willing to co-captain this baby! I've warned her that there aren't enough lifeboats for us all, but she seems pretty optimistic.
If we missed any errors, it's probably because we were too eager to go work on part two, so you'll forgive us, right?
We should probably mention that this fic is set in an AU universe where San Juan ended in Skye stopping Raina instead of being exposed to the mist. Tripp is still alive, but not featured, and Skye has no awakened powers. She still shot Ward, though. And he is still so pretty that it should be illegal.
Part One
'Inside Out'
Berlin, Germany
October 12th 2015
He didn't really expect anyone to come.
He'd made his fair share of mistakes, more than his fair share actually, and it was time to reap what he had sown. He supposed it was long overdue, really. But that didn't mean he didn't have regrets. Those were piled high in his mind and were probably the only thing keeping him conscious after the extreme blood loss he had endured over the last 48 hours. It was possibly a miracle that he was even still breathing but Grant Ward was nowhere near narcissistic enough to believe that he, of all people, deserved one of those.
Not to say that he was a religious man; he'd spent far too much time in his youth praying to a God that had never answered for that. Nonetheless, he knew that there was more to Heaven and Earth, Science and Nature, than his tiny, compartmentalised little mind could possibly discern. So, miracles did indeed happen and his regrets were too innumerable to count, and he was very likely going to bleed out on a metal gurney in an abandoned psychiatric hospital that had been commandeered by Hydra. There was irony lurking somewhere in the whole situation but Ward's body was too tired, and his mind too addled by pain and the face of a smiling brunette to truly appreciate it.
The sound of footsteps in the hallway outside the old operating room made every muscle stiffen in anticipation of further torture. Despite his captor's admittedly dedicated efforts to extract information from him, the secrets he guarded had yet to be compromised. Ward wasn't sure just how long his physical self could endure the torment but he knew his mind was unbreakable, having spent the last few years so deep undercover as a triple agent that he found it difficult to remember his life before this mission, or the man he had once been.
SHIELD... Hydra... SHIELD. Ward had become a skilled and cold-blooded operative, able to effortlessly move between the two organisations without initially having raised any concerns for his loyalty. But Grant Ward had become lost in the performance and if he allowed himself one regret it was that Coulson and the team still believed him to be a traitor. Perhaps one day Fury would reveal the intricate details of the operation but, for now, Ward was lost to his former colleagues and the woman he had accidentally fallen in love with.
Struggling to raise his head to greet the three imposing figures filing through the doorway, Ward offered them a self-assured smile and took a slow breath. He wouldn't let them see him flinch; he hadn't yet. For every injury they inflicted, he found himself withdrawing further and further into the recesses of his mind. And those recesses were carved pretty deep.
"Mr. Ward," one of the men crooned, his clipped German accent making even the greeting sound like a thinly veiled threat, "and how are we doing this morning?"
"Never better," Ward replied through gritted teeth, discreetly pulling against the straps that held him down as he tested their strength.
Glancing at the monitors surrounding their prisoner, the man briefly examined the screens that displayed Ward's vital signs and he smiled in amusement. Although Ward's blood pressure periodically changed- perhaps due to their colourful interrogation methods or possibly as a consequence of blood loss and dehydration - Ward's heart rate remained infuriatingly low.
Picking up an electrode from a nearby trolley, the German flicked a switch and immediately a series of blue sparks hissed and crackled from the device. Casting a sinister glance at the man strapped to the metal trolley, he gestured for his accomplices to surround him.
"I guess it's party time, huh boys?" Ward quipped, and allowed his head to fall back hard against the thin mattress even as two hundred volts ripped through his body.
x-x-x
She had never felt more alone.
The feelings coursing through her were incomparable to anything she had ever felt before, and she had been an orphan, kidnapped by a government agency, shot in the gut twice and betrayed by the man she had loved, so that was really saying something. Doubt, fear, rage, guilt and shame collided into her with such force that she was genuinely surprised that she was still standing.
She checked her weapon again, if only to steady her nerves, and found that the task actually only succeeding in causing her heart rate to accelerate wildly. She could hear her own blood rushing in her ears and feel the frantic thrum of her pulse in her neck, and soon the monitor she wore on her wrist had begun to beep shrilly, threatening to blow her already tenuous cover entirely.
Skye swore louder than she really ought to have and ripped the strap from her arm, before tossing it some distance into the surrounding trees. The mental institution had lain abandoned for several decades and had been allowed to fall into a state of disrepair that gave Skye cause for concern that the floorboards might actually give way beneath her feet. However, she hardly had the time to entertain such thoughts, given that her target had been in the hands of his abductors for well over a day already.
Indecision briefly stopped her in her tracks, and she wondered whether or not risking her life for a self-confessed traitor and murderer meant she had finally lost her mind. The fact she was breaking in to a former asylum was not lost on Skye.
But whatever Ward was - a traitor, a monster or something far worse - he had still somehow managed to worm his way into her heart, and she wasn't about to let him die at the hands of Hydra scumbags who made the Third Reich look like the Care Bears. If anybody was going to make Grant Ward suffer, it was going to be her.
Of course the question of just why Hydra had decided to target their most infamous specialist was another matter entirely. Skye could only suppose that he'd been caught in some duplicitous act or other.
And of course it had been no surprise to Skye that Coulson and May had refused to assist in an extraction of their former friend. She understood their reasoning and accepted their indifference, but that was one thing she could not be where Grant Ward was concerned; indifferent.
Once Skye loved, she loved recklessly and completely, and it was one of the many personality traits she hoped her SHIELD training would help to eliminate. Although given her current position, hiding out in the overgrown shrubbery surrounding an abandoned mental hospital overrun with Hydra operatives, with nothing but a couple of handguns and a few stun grenades in her arsenal, it was safe to say that it was still a personality flaw she had yet to overcome.
"Get in, extract the treacherous douchebag... get out," she said quietly, closing her eyes and taking slow, deep breaths to try to calm herself and stop her hands from shaking quite so much.
Pushing down both her fear and her confusion, Skye stole from the bushes concealing her and moved closer to the ancient, crumbling red brick building. She ducked down behind more foliage as a trio of Hydra soldiers appeared from around the far left corner of the asylum wall, carrying rifles and talking animatedly about some football game that Skye couldn't have cared less about if she'd tried.
Almost holding her breath, the woman lay flat on the damp grass and curled her knees up into her chest to prevent from being spotted. The move seemed to do the trick and, as Skye listened to the sound of the voices retreating into the distance, she sprang to her feet again only to make a beeline for a boarded up window. It was hardly the safest or most covert entrance she would choose but time was not on her side, so Skye set to work prying rotten wooden boards from the window frame with her bare hands.
After only a few minutes she had managed to pull away enough of the temporary barricade to allow her to slip through the window. She barely had time to hope that there was not another Hydra guard on the other side before she had thrown herself into the corridor, executing a somewhat clumsy forward roll in the process.
Skye sprang to her feet and adopted a defensive pose, relieved beyond all measure to discover that the corridor was completely empty, aside from a rickety looking wheelchair and a broken old IV stand. She let out an involuntary shudder as her eyes swept the perimeter, taking in the layers of dust, creepy paintings hanging lopsided on the walls and the ominously stained floor tiles. Her own research had told her that the hospital had been closed down under the immense weight of claims of physical and mental abuse, but Skye quickly buried those particular thoughts, not wanting to dwell on the horrors that were undoubtedly imprinted on the very fabric of the building.
She watched her feet carefully, trying not to step in the rubble, paperwork and medical supplies or make any noise that might alert the guards to her presence. Creeping toward a doorway, gun gripped tightly in hand, she peered furtively down each end of the hall and listened for the sound of anyone approaching.
A muffled groan suddenly caught her attention and she strained to ascertain the direction it had come from. She needn't have waited long, because a louder, more anguished cry assaulted her eardrums only moments later, leading Skye down a gloomy hallway littered with abandoned beds and wheelchairs.
She flattened against the wall suddenly as three men wearing white coats strolled past, laughing and joking to each other in another language and seeming thankfully oblivious to their guest.
Making sure the hallway was now clear, Skye crept down the corridor, glancing into each room she passed as she made her way toward a larger room where an old sign hung precariously from the wall. Since speaking German was not in her particular skill set, Skye had no concept of where she was headed, and so she approached the door with renewed caution.
She stood on tiptoes to see through the glass panel in the door, taking care not to injure herself on the shards of broken glass that jutted out of the neighbouring panel. Squinting through the gloomy room, lit only by a skylight partially concealed by ivy and overgrowth, her breath caught in her chest as she made out a figure lying on the operating table in the centre of the room.
Skye paused, closing her eyes and exhaling before she hesitantly pushed on the door and adopted a defensive stance.
"Back so soon?" a voice called out weakly - it was a voice Skye recognised at once.
Every muscle in her body tensed in reaction to it and Skye almost stumbled forwards, a witty retort dying on her lips before it had been born.
Ward squinted in disbelief, his lips curving downwards in a grimace that furrowed his brow and accentuated the cleft in his chin.
"You're not real," he accused, his tone gruff and cold, "you're a... a hallucination... the mind's attempt to comfort the body through its pain... or a side effect from... a... drug..."
Skye bobbed her head once in acceptance of Ward's skepticism before pulling back her right fist and punching him hard in the jaw. Ward's head was flung to the side from the impact of the blow and he let a strangled cry of pain as Skye shook her tingling hand and watched him.
"Still think I'm a hallucination?" she checked, arching a dark brow at Ward, who opened his mouth experimentally to test if she had dislocated his jaw with the vicious punch.
"How badly are you hurt?" Skye demanded, wasting no time in undoing the wrist restraints and releasing the metal shackles that held his ankles to the table.
"I'll live," Ward said through clenched teeth, finding that he lacked the strength to sit up unaided and the pain that overcame him when he tried was almost enough to cause him to vomit.
"Whoah, easy does it, tiger," Skye instructed, peering toward the door as she slipped her arm around Ward's waist and tried to help him to his feet, "we gotta get out of here."
Ward's chest rose and fell with alarming frequency, and she could see he was struggling for breath. A warm, sticky substance coated her fingertips and she glanced down in horror at her hand to find a slick of blood coating her skin.
"Oh my God," she breathed, panic now well and truly setting in as she saw the true nature of his injuries, and the bruises, burns and stab wounds that marred his torso made her mouth run dry.
Ward tried to gently shrug her off as she attempted to usher him toward the door, and he halted her steps, reaching up to rest a shaking hand against her cheek.
"Skye... what are you doing here?" he asked quietly, brushing his thumb over her cheek and allowing himself to revel in the fact she did not immediately recoil from his touch.
"I came to get you," she replied, confused by his question as she thought the answer was already more than evident.
"Why?"
He frowned, unable to comprehend why someone who believed him to be a murderer and a traitor would risk their own life to rescue him. His pitiful existence was not worth her life, and the idea of Skye putting herself in danger to save his sorry hide made Ward feel sick to the stomach.
"Now's not really the time for caring and sharing, Ward, okay? We have to get the hell out here. Just... just lean on me and we'll take it slow," she directed, helping him to hobble a few paces toward the door.
Droplets of blood landed on the dusty linoleum floor, and they had barely made it three steps when Ward almost dropped unceremoniously to the ground. Skye pushed him sideways, just about managing to push him against the side of the operating table so he could assist her in holding him up.
"Skye, go!" he demanded, struggling against the unfamiliar sensation of his heart beating furiously in his chest.
"I'll just hold you back, I won't..." he winced as the searing pain in his chest caught each time he inhaled too deeply, "I won't let you sacrifice yourself for me. Please, please just get out of here."
"Would you just quit whining?" Skye snapped, her voice low but sharp as she struggled to bear Ward's weight, which was at least twice that of her own. "God... I broke protocol and about 3 billion SHIELD rules to come here, not to mention my own admittedly sketchy moral code so... could you at least pretend to be grateful that I'm trying to haul your butt out of Dodge before they had a chance to make Grant-julienne?"
"You're... here alone?" Ward demanded, groaning as he gripped the edge of the table in an effort to alleviate Skye of the burden of some of his weight.
"Do you see anyone behind me?" she retorted, her eyes dropping to the ground as she realised not for the first time just how in over her head she really was. Coulson would likely be furious with her, if she ever made it out alive, and she didn't even want to consider what May would do to her. Their orders had been clear enough when she had approached them over Ward's abduction; stay away, leave it alone, let him rot.
"After everything that I've done, everything you think I am... why would you..." he began, trailing off as his breath caught in his throat.
"Hey, hey, easy there, big guy," Skye instructed, gesturing towards the door with a slight inclination of her head, "let's take it slow and steady, okay?"
From outside the building, the unmistakable sound of gunfire rang out, and before either agent had a chance to move, the skylight glass smashed and a uniformed Hydra operative hurtled unceremoniously to the floor. His body hit the ground with a sickening thud, and Skye's eyes widened in surprise.
"But, you know... fast is good too," she instructed, trying to lead Ward that little bit quicker towards the door.
"Sounds like someone else has joined the party," Ward speculated, listening to the distinctive sound of a fist fight that seemed to be taking place only yards from where they were standing.
"Let's not stick around to find out," Skye replied, rolling her eyes and sighing in abject irritation as Ward once again stopped dragging his sizeable frame toward what she hoped would be safety.
"Seriously? What is it now? You forget your purse or something?! We have to go, Ward! Like, now!" she hissed.
"Look," he began, starting to feel more than a little disorientated, he assumed as a result of the wounds expelling a steady stream of blood down his chest and back, "just... just wait a second. I... I need to tell you something..."
Seeing her shoot him a patented glare of death, he held up one trembling hand in a bid to silence her.
"I'm not what you think I am, I... I need you to know that. If I don't make it out of here, and..." he glanced down at his injuries, "that's a pretty real possibility... you need to know that I didn't betray you."
"We're not doing this now," Skye sighed irritably, "you're a treacherous bastard, Ward. But I'm not letting you take the easy way out. You're coming with me and then you can spend the rest of your life thinking about the horrible, messed up, psychopathic... crappy things that you did."
Hearing the scuffle upstairs drawing nearer, Ward realised time was of the essence and he decided to forgo any detailed explanation in favour of a more 'bullet point' approach.
"I was working for Fury. Black ops... Deep cover. Level ten clearance," he faltered, "I couldn't tell you and Coulson has no idea. I still shouldn't be telling you this, but I don't want to die with you thinking I'm some kind of monster."
"Fury?" Skye raised both eyebrows, her expression dubious.
"Did they load you up with the good drugs, Ward?" she glanced around the room, peering in an accusatory manner at the trays of syringes and vials.
"I'm serious, Skye," he replied through gritted teeth as a wave of pain washed over him, "I promised you I'd never lie to you again and I..."
"Cut the crap, Ward," she hissed, feeling a jolt of mild satisfaction as she began to drag Ward towards the door and he grunted in pain. "Just keep moving."
"I wish there was something I could say to make you believe..." he lamented, his voice sounding so small and mournful that Skye almost experienced a stab of pity on his behalf. Almost.
"Well, there isn't," she answered, although somewhat gentler and more measured.
Nodding as though he had accepted Skye's refusal, Ward bowed his head as they shuffled out into the hallway. Frantic yells and pained cries drifted down the corridor, and Skye deliberately turned a corner in order to avoid running into the two warring factions. She could feel Ward breathing laboriously at her side and she made an effort to coax him into picking up the pace, uncertain of how far away the nearest actual hospital was from the asylum. She knew that his chances were dwindling by the moment and the possibility that he might not pull through scared her more than she would ever care to admit, either to herself or anyone else.
"Wait here, I'm going to check the hall," Skye instructed, pausing to lean Ward against a wall before she inched towards the end of the hall and peered around the corner. Noting that the coast was mercifully clear, Skye ran back to Ward, only to find him slumped on the ground with his back pressed against the wall. His skin was pallid and a thin sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead. As he peered up into Skye's features, his eyes hazy and almost glazed over, a wistful smile ghosted across his lips.
"No, no, no..." Skye chanted, shaking her head in horror as she watched Ward all but slip away in front of her eyes. "Wake up, Robot. Come on, stay with me."
Ward murmured something unintelligible in response and, chewing on her lip in panic, Skye made a hasty decision. Screwing up her nose, she dug her index finger into the largest stab wound visible on Ward's shoulder, drawing a howl of pain from her former SO that would certainly bring Hydra's best running. However, the tactic had the desired effect and, overcome by pain once again, Ward was brought back to his senses.
"You enjoyed that..." he accused in a grunt, his eyes narrowed at Skye.
Skye shrugged in affirmation, "Little bit."
Ward dragged himself up to a standing position and, with Skye's help, the two shuffled toward an old fire exit located at the end of the hall. Though the doors were bound closed with a chain, the metal was almost rusted through, and Skye was confident that one kick would be more than enough to provide them with an escape path.
The sound of boots pounding the tiles suddenly caught both of their attention, and from out of nowhere six heavily armed Hydra guards ran toward them, weapons aimed.
"Stop!" their apparent leader commanded as two of his men dropped down onto one knee and adjusted their automatic rifles as if poised to open fire.
"Crap," Skye muttered under her breath, certain that she could feel her pulse pounding in her ears.
She glanced down at her hand, realising that in the time it would take her to raise and aim her gun, she and Ward would both most likely be dead.
Ward too had obviously made the same deduction, and though in ordinary circumstances the odds would be stacked far more considerably in his favour, in his current weakened state he wouldn't last seconds against so many opponents.
Before either could react, two small metal discs skittered across the floor from behind them, exploding almost the second they reached the unprepared soldiers.
A blast of smoke concealed the men from view, but as Ward and Skye used the distraction to try to double back toward the other end of the hall, the sound of slow, measured footsteps approaching them from behind made Skye's blood run cold.
Ward blinked in confusion at the unlikely sight that met him, though his surprise soon turned to relief as he took in the black leather clad figure of the woman sauntering toward them. The young redhead stalked in an almost predatory manner down the hall, a cascade of curls tumbling down her back and an amused smirk tugging at her full lips.
Skye raised her gun at the stranger who shot her an expression that indicated boredom more than fear, and Ward hurriedly seized Skye's wrist and pulled her arm toward her side.
"Whoah, whoah, whoah!" he grasped her arm gently but firmly, and nodded apologetically at the newcomer, who simply rolled her eyes, "you do not want to do that. Trust me."
"Agent Ward," the woman nodded curtly at the man. Her eyes then briefly fell upon Skye, who was staring at her in confusion. Deciding that the young SHIELD agent presented no immediate threat, the redhead strolled past with an air of confidence that instantly reminded Skye of her own infamous SO, Melinda May.
"Agent Romanoff," Ward returned the greeting, leaning on the window ledge behind him as the burning pain in his chest made breathing intensely unpleasant.
Without uttering another word, Romanoff produced two guns from behind her back and began firing indiscriminately at the guards, who were yelling in obvious panic. The man coughed profusely as they inhaled large quantities of the gas still pervading the air around them.
Skye shook her head incredulously, "No! No way! That's Natasha Romanoff? The Black Widow?"
Ward consented to chuckle, regretting that action almost immediately as the motion jarred his broken ribs. "Yeah, and... you should probably fangirl from a safe distance because things are about to get messy in here."
He almost pitied the guards and the fate that was about to befall them. Almost.
"Should I, like, help?" Skye queried uncertainly, watching as Agent Romanoff dropped into a crouching position and her leg whipped out, sweeping the nearest guard off his feet. The man landed hard on his back, his weapon flying up into the air, and Romanoff shot out a hand to catch it deftly.
"I think she's got it," Ward answered, pressing his hand to his shoulder to staunch the renewed bleeding from the wound that Skye had buried her finger into.
"No way," Skye repeated in disbelief, her eyes impossibly wide and the quirk of her lips belaying her astonishment as she watched Romanoff take out the guards that filled the hallway without so much as breaking a mild sweat. When she had finished, the men lay sprawled haphazardly before them, some still evidently breathing and other perhaps not. Skye wasn't about to shed any tears over that one, however.
Letting out a sigh that was almost bored, Romanoff spun on her heel and sashayed back towards Skye and Ward, the former of which had yet to close her open mouth.
"You're welcome, Ward," the Avenger stated, laying one hand on her hip as she evaluated Ward's condition with a sweeping glance. She frowned as she watched him hug the wall for support before letting out a sigh and then sliding herself underneath his other arm.
"Come on, let's get your useless ass out of here," Romanoff barked, and Skye found herself immediately leaping to attention and ducking underneath Ward's other shoulder in order to take his weight.
"I was handling it..." Ward grumbled petulantly, clearly unimpressed at the turn the situation had taken.
"Oh you've been handled all right," Romanoff chuckled, shaking her head as Ward's pride reared its ugly head, as usual. "Should we just set you down over there and let you continue to 'handle it'?"
"You, what's your name?" Natasha nodded across at Skye, who seemed to gape like a goldfish as she floundered for an answer.
"Uh... Skye... ma'am," Skye replied, anticipating the arrival of an order somewhat warily.
"Skye, you wanna grab that?" Natasha nodded over toward an abandoned wheelchair, frowning as Ward dared to voice opposition to her plan by emitting an unamused groan.
"Hey," Natasha began testily, "I got pulled out of an op in Belize to stop Adolf and the boys here from crossing you off Fury's dance card. You wanna work with me here, Ward?!"
"Ma'am," Ward replied grudgingly, hating to admit that he felt instant relief the second he was seated in the worryingly rickety wheelchair. Skye instantly began pushing him down the hall with Black Widow walking at their side, efficiently and quickly dispatching any unfortunate guard who dared offer opposition.
Once they had reached the fire exit, one kick from Romanov was enough to send the chains splintering. She gazed up in relief at the sky, raising her wrist to her chin to speak into the communication device concealed beneath her sleeve.
"I have the package secured," she stated, raising both eyebrows as Ward glared up at her almost contemptuously.
"Package? I'm the package?"
"Nothing in my orders said I had to bring you back conscious," Romanoff warned, earning a smirk of amusement from Skye.
"I like her!" Skye enthused as she struggled to manoeuvre the wheelchair over the grass.
"You would..." Ward grumbled, hissing in pain as Skye ran over a bump in the terrain.
Skye ignored him pointedly, instead shooting a glance at Agent Romanoff, who strode at her side swinging her arms in a carefree manner as though they were going on a trip to the mall rather than attempting to escape a Hydra facility with a wounded man slowing them down.
"Can I... I mean... I just..." Skye began, wincing at her own lack of eloquence. Black Widow shot the younger woman a glance and nodded, not waiting for Skye to voice her question before she provided the response she was near certain was the one the other agent was looking for.
"I'm guessing Grant here spilled his guts to you back there," Romanoff stated rather than questioned.
"He may have mentioned something about Fury and... triple agents and... I zoned out somewhere at the end so that part is a little fuzzy but..." Skye mumbled, glancing from Romanoff to the back of Ward's head.
"And you're wondering if it's the truth or yet another tangled web of Nazi lies?" Natasha guessed, her hair suddenly whipping up around her shoulders as the sound of chopper blades roared to life around them.
"I did kind of shoot him..." Skye confessed, her expression suddenly sheepish at the memory. Romanoff actually smirked, her brows furrowing as she regarded Skye.
"There's not one of us who hasn't idly thought about doing that," she replied.
Ward suddenly found that he felt far too disorientated to respond, and his eyes fluttered closed mere moments before the SHIELD quinjet landed in a clearing to the side of the building.
"Ward?" Skye shook his arm gently, heightened panic evident in her voice as she called his name over and over.
Gunfire rang out from the roof of the hospital as the few remaining guards opened fire- fire that was instantly returned by Romanoff and the whirring gun turret of the jet.
Two heavily armed, kevlar attired SHIELD operatives ran from the plane and unceremoniously hauled Ward from the wheelchair before dragging him to the loading bay of the aircraft.
"Let's get out of here, boys and girls," Natasha commanded, using the few remaining seconds before she ran aboard the plane to take out a further two guards from an impressive distance.
Shooting a final glance at the abandoned asylum, crawling with hostile Hydra agents, Skye scrambled aboard the jet with the Black Widow following in her wake.
x-x-x
Skye swallowed hard and closed her eyes momentarily as Coulson slammed his fist down on the surface of his desk, overturning his pencil pot and sending stationary flying in multiple directions. Coulson's entire body was tense and his whole demeanour radiated fury and betrayal. Skye could hardly say she blamed the guy, and yet she hugged her arms around herself and took a small step backwards on instinct. As a child in the sometimes sketchy foster system, she had quickly learned to shy away from raised voices and disappointment, and old habits were hard to shake.
"How the hell could you make that call and just assume it would all turn out okay?" Coulson thundered, the vein in his temple pulsing madly. He slid one finger underneath the collar of his shirt and loosened his tie, leaving Skye concerned that he might actually be on the verge of a heart attack.
"What gave you the right to jeopardise the safety of everyone on this plane? My team? The people I have come to care about!"
He paused, as if listening to the unfortunate soul on the other end of the phone, yet his increasingly irritated expression gave Skye a clear impression that their words were falling on deaf ears.
"Oh, you what? That's bullshit!" Coulson thundered, "and you know what else it is?"
Finding that his level of rage now exceeded the brain capacity required for coherent thought, he simply echoed unapologetically, "It's... bullshit!"
Skye hid an amused smirk behind her hand and a feigned cough, her eyebrows shooting up to her hairline as her boss slammed the telephone down onto the cradle with so much force that the desk rocked in protest.
Skye pursed her lips and clasped her hands together as she stared down diplomatically at the floor and awaited her reprimand. Two weeks after rescuing Ward from the Hydra base and Coulson was still not in a particularly 'cuddly' mood with his youngest agent.
"I spoke to Fury," Coulson stated, and Skye found it difficult to contain the somewhat snarky quip she felt bubbling up. Given the volume of Coulson's voice, it would have been difficult for anyone in their airspace to have not overheard the discussion.
"Yes, sir," Skye bobbed her head.
Coulson watched her intently, assuming his following words would provoke a certain response.
"He confirmed Ward's story," his chest rose as he inhaled deeply, "seems he was telling the truth. He was working as a triple agent... under Fury's command."
Skye couldn't help the small smile that briefly settled on her lips, and she glanced away shyly as she saw Coulson staring at her.
"I see," she replied. Unemotional, detached, a perfectly professional response. If only the blush that rose up her cheeks hadn't betrayed her.
"Don't think you're getting off easy on this, Agent Skye," Coulson snapped, raking one hand through his tousled hair and glaring at the young woman. "You disobeyed my direct orders, lied to your SO and stole SHIELD equipment to aid you in the rescue of a wanted fugitive."
"Borrowed," Skye mumbled, her gaze averted to the circular pattern on the carpet as she struggled to remain detached from the situation. She still regarded Coulson as a father figure and his obvious disappointment in her actions smarted considerably. However, given the opportunity again, Skye couldn't say that she would do anything different, save for perhaps coming across as marginally cooler in front of Black Widow.
"What did you say?" demanded Coulson, raising an eyebrow as he regarded Skye, who wisely chose to keep her lips pressed together.
After several seconds of tense silence, Coulson let out a sigh and sank back in his seat.
"You could have been killed, Skye," he lamented, his tone coloured with the emotion that he was fighting hard to disguise. "All for a man who you believed in your heart of hearts to be a liar, a murderer and a Nazi. What do you expect me to do with that? How do I justify your place on this plane to the people out there that you let down with your recklessness?"
"I... I don't know," Skye replied honestly, holding his gaze for a moment before she averted her eyes to her shoes.
Coulson sank back in his seat and sighed as he stared up at the ceiling of his office, clasping the arms of the chair in an obviously tense grip. Finally, he returned his gaze to Skye, who appeared as remorseful as he realised she was ever going to be on the subject.
"Get out of here," he flapped his hand toward the door, sighing once more for dramatic effect as he added, "and try to look slightly more ashamed and apologetic when you're talking to May. She might not be quite so understanding, okay?"
"Sir," Skye assented, chancing a smile that Coulson grudgingly returned.
As she turned on her heel to leave, her boss' voice stopped her in her tracks. When she regarded him, she couldn't help but be amused by the expression of childlike awe and excitement that was suddenly etched on his features.
"So Romanoff was there, huh?" he asked, his eyes almost lighting up at the mention of the infamous specialist. "Did you see her in action? She's really something, right?"
Skye's mouth fell open and for a moment they were both mutually geeking out.
"Oh my God, she's AWESOME!"
Her manic smile and dramatic hand gestures were soon accompanied by Coulson's own vigorous nodding and wide grin.
Suddenly thinking better of her initial response, Skye cleared her throat, "I mean... she's... very effective."
Coulson coughed gruffly, his expression sobering as he glared at Skye in the harshest manner he could muster.
"Back to work, Agent," he snapped, calling out as an afterthought as Skye retreated through the office doorway, "and you're grounded from the field for a month!"
As Skye closed the door with a quiet click, Coulson added loudly, "And you're on bathroom duty until I say otherwise."
Letting out the breath she hadn't realised she had been holding, Skye rounded the corner and proceeded to the lounge with a sense of relief like no other overwhelming her. She threw herself down onto the couch and allowed her head to fall backwards, her eyes closing as she contemplated not for the first time her now very complex feelings towards Ward. Whilst she was undeniably both relieved and ecstatic that her former SO was neither a Hydra cheerleader or murdering psychopath, she could not seem to quash the intense rage that swept over her every time Ward so much as breathed in her direction. She still felt betrayed and used, but now for entirely different reasons. Ironically, when she had believed Ward to be a duplicitous madman, she had found him infinitely easier to understand. Now, after the reveal of his triple agent status, her mind was left reeling as she contemplated the true identity of the man behind the traitor behind the spy.
Suddenly sensing movement behind her, Skye opened one eye and regarded the agent standing before her with a curious mixture of irritation and affection.
"You mind if I join you?" Ward asked uncertainly, feeling ill at ease being on the bus again with a group of former friends who had been curiously annoyed at finding out he hadn't betrayed them all.
Skye sat up and swung her feet back onto the floor as she gestured to the seat beside her, "Nope. In fact, you can help me clean the bathrooms later too. Hope you brought a toothbrush."
Ward's brow furrowed into a confused frown, but he sat down beside her and allowed his eyes to roam her face with poorly concealed adoration.
Skye caught his loaded gaze and shrank back in her seat as she waggled her finger at him in warning, "Oh, no. No you don't, mister. If you think we're just gonna pick up where we left off, then.. I... You know, just because you're not all 'grrrr' and evil and, okay so Hand was a Hydra plant and Koenig was a cyborg... robot... thing, that does not mean that you and I are going to... you know..."
Ward grinned, inching slightly closer and trying not to grimace as the movement disturbed his still healing ribs.
"Thank you," he said softly, completely sincerely.
"For what?" Skye asked, realising just how low her defenses slipped when Ward looked at her like that. Given the smirk plastered across his obnoxiously handsome face, she was certain he knew it too.
"For coming for me. Risking your life to save me," he stated, pleasantly surprised when a blush tainted her cheeks and she averted her gaze to her lap to pick at invisible threads on her shirt.
"Yeah, well I make poor choices," she retorted as she shrugged brightly, hoping to lighten the decidedly heavy mood, "that's actually how we met, remember?!"
Ward only smiled thinly but the light in his eyes told Skye that he would never allow himself to forget that moment, even if he lived to be a hundred.
"Look, Ward, I want to trust you, I really do, it's just..." Skye trailed off and the brief expression of hurt that crashed across her usually guarded features was enough for Grant to understand.
"Too much to ask right now," he finished, nodding his head in agreement. "I get it. I hope it won't always be this way but... I get it."
Skye watched without word as Ward climbed to his feet, one arm wrapped protectively around his aching ribs, and turned towards the direction of his bunk. However, before he reached the doorway, he spun around slowly to face Skye once again.
"Don't forget, you still owe me that drink, Rookie," he murmured quietly, a hint of a smile playing across his lips. Silently, Skye regarded her former SO, her expression unreadable.
Then she guffawed, loudly and without the slightest hint of elegance. She rocked back in her seat, clapping her hands in amusement as she dissolved into laughter.
"Tell me you didn't just use that line!?" she giggled, shaking her head in disbelief.
Ward's cheeks flushed bright red and he turned back to the doorway, scurrying off to his bunk with a telling crimson blush spreading up to the very tips of his ears. Skye only continued to laugh long after the door to Ward's bunk had slid shut. Slammed shut was probably a more accurate description.
With just the slightest hint of fondness present in her tone, Skye whispered to the closed door, "Asshole."